30

"Say it again - who are you?" - it seemed as if John was absolutely calm, but anyone could feel the barely restrained anger in his voice, which made the huge man in front of him shiver under the sheer pressure of John's voice.

"Henry, son of a blacksmith..." he repeated once more, so John, hearing the same response as the few times before could not restrain himself and hit the table next to him, making the table to creak plaintively.

"Devil!" - he said, continuing to beat on the oak boards, - "Devil! Devil! Devil!"

"John!"" - Gilles de Rais shouted at him, after which John, having brought his hand up for the next blow, stopped.

"Leave," he dismissed the big guy in front of him to jump out of the tent instantly, after which he became silent for a second.

"Chevalier deceived us all," Ainz sighed and looked at his hands.

"HELL YES! He created a trap in which we didn't gain anything - no, even worse- we lost one of your champions in it, one of the few champions capable of fighting the Witch!" - it seemed as if finally saying it out loud infuriated John more, - "He created a trap - and goddamn Hell - this one turned out to be successful!"

"John, please, calm down," Gilles said calmly, but instead of stopping, the man in front of him only froze, and then sighed.

"I'll go get some air," John took a few quick steps, and then left the commander's tent.

"Don't be angry with John," Gilles said, after which he sighed and reached for a glass of wine, "The attack of the Witch happened... Not as successfully as we had hoped."

"Yes, I know," Ainz sighed, "A thousand dead and as many wounded."

"Yes," Gilles sighed once more and took a generous sip of wine. "We did not plan that other Servants would participate in the attack."

"I know " Ainz sighed. After the failed rescue attempt, he would not move directly to the camp - he was afraid of a chase from the Witch, and especially from her dragon. So he teleported randomly several times, after which he hid, then watched the city with his magic. Unfortunately, his observation of the city did not bring him any special information, except for the fact that, having been brutalized by the operation that had already been considered unsuccessful by the Witch and the unrest that had begun, she just ordered her dragon, due to which it, without any distinction between who were allies and who were enemies, simply burned the whole city, along with all the guards, wyverns and civilians. At the same time, due to observing the city and fearing the possibility of a chase, Ainz was unable to protect the French army camp at the moment its attack by the Witch's Servants, because of that the battle took place without him - all that he knew was exclusively from the words of Cu Chulainn, Medusa and Serenity. They told him a very sad - but probably logical story.

The Witch really was pissed off by the failure of her ambush, as Chevalier had said - however, the attack on the French army did not happen with the goal of destruction - but of intimidation. In addition to the army itself, many undead and wyverns, two Servants also took part in the attack - and in addition to the already familiar, to him, Carmilla a certain mage entered the battle too. They did not pursue the destruction of the Servants remaining in the camp — all they wanted was to bring the Witch's wrath to the soldiers. And they did it.

The original plan was that when any enemy would try to attack the army, Jeanne would appear with the other Servants and then shield the soldiers from the assault - however, as it turned out, even a few minutes of delay in responding to the attack would bring a large cost to the army.

While Carmilla did not possess the abilities capable of a large scale massacre - the second Servant, the mage,was more than capable.

"Caster was not identified?" - Ainz said, not expecting an answer, and Gilles shook his head, after which he poured himself a second glass of wine.

The mage was capable of some kind of summoning - and the monsters he summoned did a good job of emptying the camp. Jeanne arrived immediately at the moment when the Witch's punitive operation attacked the camp, but by the time she was able to strike, hundreds of people had already died. The Servants of the Witch, having achieved their desired result, did not even continue to attack, only exchanged blows several times with the Servants of Ainz - and the allies he have- and then fled, leaving their monsters to be torn to pieces by the French army and Servants.

On one hand, such a result could even be considered a success- the soldiers of France accepted their inevitable death, seeing the monsters, appearing from the dark, led by the chosen champions of the Witch, which meant that the intervention of Jeanne - the real Jeanne, the Saint - looked like a miracle to them. Salvation. This was enough to make them believe both in the authenticity of Jeanne and in the possibility of surviving this battle - however, not enough to achieve anything more.

After Vichy was burned down by the Witch and then the French army lost a thousand people in one attack - this meant only one thing.

"We can't wait for reinforcements anymore," Ainz nodded with clarity of the situation, to which Gilles, having drained the second glass, only nodded frowningly.

"In that case," Gilles, without ceremony, poured himself a third one, "What is our plan?"

Ainz slowly began to get used to the fact that for some reason all the people around him were asking for plans from him, so he thought.

"When will the Witch attack again?" - the mage looked at Gilles, to which he only shrugged.

"Who knows?" - he took a sip - "Maybe in ten minutes, maybe in ten days. If you want my opinion - the Witch will try to recuperate, calculate her losses and gains, after which she will gather a new army and then strike again. Approximately? Three to four days. At best, a week."

"In other words, we have virtually no time," Ainz nodded unhappily. If they could save Etienne, seed unrest in the camp of the Witch and inspire the soldiers to battle - they could afford to wait another week or two, but in the current situation, each subsequent attack by the Witch will only take more and more lives. In other words, they had to act.

"In that case," Ainz sighed. "Raise the army. We must storm Orleans."

"Yes," Gilles sighed at that, "But at best, it will take a day — an army of this size is extremely slow. It will take time to raise it and bring it to the Lair of the Witch."

"I know," Ainz nodded. At least he hoped so. "I know of another place where the Witch's Servants could be."

"Hmm?" - Gilles raised an eyebrow.

"Lyon," Ainz nodded to himself, "Lyon. We will infiltrate Lyon, after which we will return to the army with what we managed to find there -and then, attack the Witch."

"Hm, there it is," Gilles drained his glass, "The final battle that we have been waiting for."

"Yes," Ainz looked at the Gilles. "The time has come."

"Good," Gilles nodded. "Tomorrow we will have to organize the soldiers. I think that your Servants will be able to put the wounded back on their feet overnight, so tomorrow morning we will begin the offensive."

"Yes," Ainz sighed. "And I have one more thing left to do."

Marie Antoinette continued to look towards her tent. Reflexively she rubbed her neck, where not so long ago there was a mortal wound, after which she looked up to the ceiling.

"So Ainz is also a wonderful potion maker," the girl sighed, "Unlike me."

The girl turned to the side of the entrance when she heard the sounds of plate boots rattling on the ground, but instead of the guard expected there, she saw only Arthuria entering the tent.

"Ah, King Arthur," the girl tried to smile, but instead she was only able to create a faint grin, "Come on in, but I don't think I can entertain you with a conversation."

"I know," Arthuria took a step inside, after which, instead of sitting in a chair nearby, she took a few steps, and Marie Antoinette felt her bed creak under the weight of the girl, "But I came anyway."

"Perhaps, it was in vain," Marie Antoinette had no strength for the usual idle talk, so she only turned away from the knight and stared to the side.

There was silence for several seconds, during which thoughts continued to spin in Rider's mind.

"He knew what he was doing," a voice suddenly came from Arthuria, it was so unexpected that Marie twitched in response.

"What?" She asked, believing that she had incorrectly heard what was said, but Arthuria only nodded.

"Hassan," Saber explained. "He knew what he was doing."

For a few seconds, Marie Antoinette only silently blinked her eyes, and then abruptly turned away.

"I don't want to talk about it," the girl said, after which she stared at the wall again.

"But you should," Arthuria said calmly.

There was silence for a second before Saber heard a polite and calm, yet incredibly strained voice, - "I do not want to talk about it."

"Do you think that it is better to think about your deathwish alone?" - Arthuria said it calmly, after which she glanced at Marie Antoinette, who jerked as if from a whiplash.

"I don't want to discuss this with anyone," she said again, this time with pressure, not holding in her voice the politeness that had been before, "Neither with Mozart, nor with Ainz, much less with you."

"Who else then should you discuss this with?" - Arthuria tilted her head to the side, after which, without waiting for an answer, she continued, - "Hassan himself spoke about the need for this mission - and he was the one who spoke out about the possibility of sacrificing himself…"

"Enough!" - at this moment, Marie Antoinette's hand crashed into Arthuria, but it didn't even make her sway, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Each word of the girl was accompanied by a blow, delivered to Saber, but instead of forcing her to retreat, the swordswoman only continued silently to endure the attacks.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" - Marie Antoinette continued to shout this despite the fact that Arthuria was already silent for a long time,- "JUST SHUT UP!"

After delivering the last blow, the girl felt her energy leaving her body and simply crawled onto her bed.

Arthuria continued to stare silently at the girl, who fell powerlessly onto her bed.

"You care too much about the loss of one person for someone who called herself aQueen," Arthuria mercilessly sealed, "A True King is obliged..."

"SHUT UP WITH YOUR TRUE KING!" - Marie Antoinette rose from her seat, looking at Arturia angrily, eyes to eyes, - "DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A QUEEN?!"

For a second, Marie Antoinette broke off and went limp, - "So many people died because of me... So many people…"

Arthuria continued only to silently look at Rider, lost in thought.

"My husband, Louis..." The girl sighed. "He was executed before me. They executed him as well as me. He was not to blame for anything - he was kind, honest and open-minded, he indeed was. He did not even participate in any scandals - it was because of me. My decisions and my actions incurred the anger of the people on him... And he was executed."

"He was executed," Marie Antoinette grinned unhappily, "Then they executed me — and my son... I have no anger at those who executed me — but I cannot understand why did they die? Why did my son die?"

Arthuria only continued silently looking at the girl, who sighed and closed her eyes.

" Why are you silent?" - She grinned sadly. - "I know why he died. He died because he was my son - he also died because of me…"

"If it weren't for me, they would still be alive," Marie-Antoinette sighed, "Lots... Lots of people would still be alive. If not for the revolution that started because of me, they would all be alive. My actions, my attempts led to a revolution - and after me, after my husband and son, there were others. Danton, Robespierre, Lavoisier... Tell me, King of Britain - if there was an opportunity - would you not dare to return to the past? To prevent all the bloodshed?"

Arthuria was silent for a few seconds before she spoke, "No."

"What?" - For a second, Marie Antoinette doubted the girl's words.

"No," she repeated once more, "My goal, my desire is to allow Britain to live forever. Let her survive in the past and future, let her survive everything that was before and will be next. It's my goal."

"But the people?.."- as if confused, Marie Antoinette asked, - "Innocent people…"

"Let it be so," Arthuria snapped coldly. "So be it. If my country needs my head, so be it. If they need human blood - let it be. If I have to sacrifice everything I have - my knights and subjects - so be it. This is the way of the King."

For a few seconds, Marie Antoinette was silent.

"You're a monster," she said.

"I am the King of Britain," the knight answered calmly, "And the lowest of the servants of my country. My goal is the prosperity of Britain. And if necessary, I will sacrifice everything for this."

Rider could not understand what was said, just continuing to silently look at Saber.

"We are Servants," Arthuria said, glancing at Marie Antoinette, "Not Heroes and not Kings. We are Servants. We are just soldiers fighting for an ephemeral purpose outside of our time, outside of our legend and outside of our country. We fight and we die. Hassan was the one who proposed this plan - he was the first, who offered to sacrifice himself. He realized that he was less important- and therefore sacrificed himself. He did not die because of you - he had a choice. He could sacrifice himself or you. And he made the right decision - a decision that I would have made - or you - if you were in his place. He judged his strength and his need - and he made a decision. He sacrificed himself for you."

For a second, Arthuria fell silent, after which Marie Antoinette heard the sound of metal. Turning around, she was ready to be hit - but instead, she felt someone ruffled her hair.

The girl looked up to see how Arthuria, removing her plate glove, continued to stroke Rider's head.

"You are ready to sacrifice everything - even yourself - for what you think is right," Arthuria once again ran her hand through Marie's hair, and then put the glove back in place. "In that case, not allowing others to do the same will be too hypocritical."

After that, Saber suddenly fell silent for a second again and sighed, changing her face a little, - "Come on. Our mission is not over yet - apparently, the Master plans to leave in the night."

Mashu could even say that she liked the abilities of senpai - his ability to teleport allowed him to save a lot of time on moving, because of which all the time that had passed in the singularity fit in just one week. Although the sheer amount of what had happened to the girl, seemed as if more than one month had passed in the Singularity itself - it was definitely much more eventful than her previous life in Chaldea, exclusively filled by research rooms and medical rooms...

"We are in Lyon," senpai's voice sounded next to her and the girl turned to Ainz. Although, perhaps, it was wrong for her to call someone like Ainz, senpai - he was her Master and was clearly much stronger and wiser, which is why putting them together in a group was even somewhat offensive to Ainz. Of course, Ainz himself did not speak out about this - however, Mashu suspected that it was unpleasant for him to hear such form of address. On the other hand, he himself allowed her to call him that...

"Or what remains of it," Archer said calmly, forcing Mashu to be distracted from her thoughts and look at the territory surrounding her.

The city around her had little resemblance to a city - these were just ruins. Numerous destroyed buildings, no longer burning, only some were still smoldering, creating an oppressive atmosphere in the slowly approaching night,causing one only want to hide in a corner and fall asleep, covered with a blanket. No, Mashu was not afraid of the dark - however, the atmosphere of the ruined city is extremely depressing, as if the enemy was still waiting for them somewhere around the corner.

The girl shrugged and looked at Ainz.

"Archer," he immediately turned to the main information gatherer, "Can you see anything?"

"In such darkness, my vision is not very useful," Archer just shook his head t, "Perhaps I can see something if I come closer — or if there is at least a little light."

"Hm," Senpai thought about this, and then sighed. "I can use several spells, but their range will not be enough for your vision. Other ways... it's impossible for now."

"It's a pity," Archer stated, after which he sighed, "Then I can do nothing."

"This is bad," Ainz sighed. He possessed the passive ability of all undead, night vision, but without Archer's abilities, it was now useless,- "Then all that remains for us is to do is to wait. At dawn, try again - if, in that case too, you cannot find anyone - we will have to return to the army empty-handed."

"Good," Archer nodded, realizing his mission. "In that case now..."

"Now we're setting up a camp," Ainz sighed and looked at Mashu. She, realizing that she was the only one who still needed sleep, tried to brush it off.

"It's all right, we can continue the search," she tried to say, but Ainz himself only responded.

"Night searches are too dangerous," the magician sighed. "In addition, to carry out searches at night we would have to split up, which would make us a target for attack, while the Servants, although there is no need for sleep, could benefit from it .

"Maybe then it's worth returning to the camp?" - Mozart gave a sound idea, but Ainz just shook his head at it again.

"Our goal is to find the reason for what exactly in Lyon is giving a strong signature as soon as possible, and then retreat - in this case, we need to wait for the earliest possible time and return to the army. In this case, it would be best to be here at the moment when it just begins to get brighter, so that Archer could find our goal."

"Archer, hmm," Amadeus only looked at Archer, and then backed away, "Good."

Mashu looked for a second at the silent Marie Antoinette and Arthuria, but it did not look like they were about to say something, so the girl backed away, feeling as if she had said something stupid. Of course, she acted as if she were the only Servant for whose sake everything was done...

'What nonsense…' - Mashu shook her head - 'Why did I think that it was because of me…'

'Perhaps because you would like it to be true?' Came the voice of her subconscious, which sounded for some reason like the voice of Serenity in her mind, to which Mashu just shook her head.

"Mashu?" - Ainz suddenly turned to the girl, startling her - "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's all right!" She shook her head, after which she turned her gaze to the camp that appeared out of nowhere, "And this..."

"A spell," Ainz explained simply, then turned away from the girl.

'And yet…' - the voice of Serenity was heard in the girl's head, but she only waved it away and slowly moved to the bedroom intended for her.

Archer was the first to be chosen as a sentinel, who would later be replaced by Mozart, then Ainz - after which, at the first dawn hours, Archer would replace them again in order to determine whether his vision could help him in these conditions. So now Archer was supposed to be the first as nightwatch.

Archer once again walked around the camp, watching the already asleep Servants, after which he focused his eyes on Ainz's tent. He did not sleep, but also preferred to rest for the night. Archer could not have guessed why he had done this, but he suspected that Ainz would not answer him honestly anyway, so Archer ignored the wizard's actions and returned to his watch.

Without any problem, he jumped onto a nearby tree, then leaned against a trunk and looked at the church standing in the distance on the hill of the destroyed city.

He felt the Servant.

The signature was weak - as weak as that of Jeanne - but he clearly felt that the Servant was in the church. He felt it.

And did not say anything.

Archer did not want to talk about it. Should not have.

For a second, Archer's mind noticed something odd in his reasoning, after which Archer froze and strained a little, shook his head. Why shouldn't he do this? Why didn't he want to do this?

Archer closed his eyes, continuing to think. He did not tell Ainz about the Servant because ... Because...

Quiet music and a melodious voice touched Archer's mind again, cooling his seething consciousness. He did not say anything because... Because...

Gradually, the voice, touching only his mind, grew louder - instead of a quiet, barely legible singing, it was now slowly, gently whispering in his ear.

Oh yes, that's why he didn't tell Ainz about the Servant because...

The singing became louder and louder, because of which a quiet, barely perceptible whisper on the verge of consciousness slowly turned into a voice. A voice that spoke to him.

He should not have told Ainz about it because he should have...

The voice that spoke suddenly fell silent - after which a trembling passed through all the bones in his body at the moment when an order was heard in his head.

He should not have told Ainz about the Servant he had found because he had to kill Mozart.

Archer nodded to himself, after which he quietly jumped from a tree, preventing a single sheet from moving and suddenly froze.

Is he? Kill Mozart? Why?!

The voice in his head fell silent for a second, then twisted into a grin and echoed in his soul with an indescribable rattle. Archer clutched at his head, trying to calm his mind, after which, when the voice in his head again subsided - he sighed.

He must kill Mozart because he must do it. No other reason or justification is required for this. He just has to do it.

The quiet singing audible only to him continued to sound in Archer's head, which he slowly took one step forward - then the second - and the third. He moved silently - despite the fact that he was not an Assassin - for his long life as a killer and Conter-Guardian, he learned to fight discreetly, leaving no traces and never showing himself to the enemy.

Slowly he walked through the camp, hearing how a voice on the verge of his consciousness, turned into quiet music, whispered to him.

The first tent is Arthuria's. The second - in it is Marie Antoinette. The third is what he needs.

Archer took an inaudible step, followed by another and another. To admit, it would be difficult for him to make the other Servants stay out of the camp at night, but Ainz's offer greatly helped him in this regard.

'Stop!' Archer froze. 'Make him stay out of the camp at night?'

The voice in his head fell silent, after which his soft whisper turned into melodious singing again - and Archer, feeling that the incorrectness of his actions evaporated completely, moved forward.

He threw back one side of the tent's door, and then looked inside. Mozart slept on the bed in his usual clothes, breathing slowly. Archer nodded - good. It will be done quickly.

Archer slowly took a step, allowing his familiar swords to materialize in his hands without a single sound, after which he took another step towards Caster, which did not even budge when Archer approached. Good.

Archer took the last step, being next to the bed of the mage, after which his right hand slowly brought the blade to Mozart's throat. One hit - and it will be done.

Archer pressed the mage's throat with a blade, and then froze. But he did not freeze in doubt - a quiet voice swept away all his doubts. He froze because he could not move.

"It's very naive and presumptuous," Mozart didn't even open his eyes, while uttering this phrase, "I said that I hear everything. And the thundering of your boots, too."

After that, Caster's fist crashed into Archer's face, throwing him to the side - however, his paralysis did not completely disappear, due to which the body of the Servant flying off to the side froze in the same position in which it fell to the ground.

"And I also could hear your battle in Vichy," Mozart said it calmly, rising from his seat, "Like your loss."

The voice in Archer's head seemed to stop hiding - and exploded a howl of a thousand agonizing screams. Archer, unable to tolerate such a howl, twitched, but Mozart's spell held him securely.

"Oh, I heard how another one intervened in your battle," Mozart sighed and extended a hand to Archer's head. Archer instantly twitched, trying not to let Caster touch his forehead, but Mozart grabbed Archer with both hands, - "Another Assassin - and his disgusting singing."

The voice in Archer's head agonized, however, whatever Mozart tried to do, he certainly did successfully, which is why the pain in Archer's head gradually began to subside, and the squeal became quieter and quieter.

"That voice," Mozart grimaced. "Three notes missed — such a terrible singing."

Suddenly, after these words, Archer's mind froze, after which the obsession subsided. Damn it, then, in Vichy!

"Hush," Mozart stopped Archer for a second when he tried to move. "I know. A third man intervened in your battle and took you under his control. And he - and his fake singing - is still here."

Archer felt Mozart stepping back from him, after which the spell that bound him before disappeared. Amadeus chuckled.

"Fake singing, hmm..." came a voice - another voice. Archer could instantly recognize this voice - it was he who sounded in his head all this time - "That's a bold statement, human."

"I'm just a human, of course," Mozart took a step back and smiled, "But I am still Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the Child of God. And all music obeys me."

The figure that appeared on the threshold of the tent was human, without a doubt. He was a beautiful young man - he was thin, handsome and even to some extent feminine. His feminine features, long hair, gathered in a single tail, and thin hands, along with thin-rimmed glasses on his face, made him graceful - and even to some extent divine. If not for the mask that hid half of his face.

Part of his face was hidden behind a disgusting mask - it seemed as if it was made of leather and iron and did not compliment Assassin's features, but instead emphasize its ugliness, imitating a mutilated skull.

"What can a person like you know about art?!" - his face that looked at Mozart was transformed into a grimace of contempt and anger, disfiguring his face.

"A lot," Mozart smiled. "For example, about you, Phantom of the Opera."

For a second, all the speakers froze, after which the Phantom broke into a smile.

"Ah, it means that I was still revealed - and my little prank with the puppet failed," he smiled. "Good. In that case, let it be so."

Archer, who finally came to his senses, felt his blades in his hands again, continuing to watch the Phantom that only smiled.

"Well, in that case," the Phantom spread his arms to the sides, as if announcing, and spoke, "Christine, Christine!"

The Phantom's words turned into form a second later, after which Mozart felt as if he was again in the middle of a stage - in the middle of the opera. However, this time he was not in the role of a musician,which is familiar to him - it seemed as though he was participating in the performance itself. And the role that was assigned to him was by no means the main character.

"Singing, haha?" - the speaker's voice was distorted, as if a ghost was speaking through a malfunctioning microphone, because of which the echoes of his words sounded throughout the camp, "So I will let you all enjoy my voice, Surely My Love Song Shall Resound Even Through Hell!"

It was not like Mozart's Noble Phantasm - his ability embodied Music That Can't Be Written. It was an insidious Phantasm, the power of which could not be underestimated - a terrifying choir of impossible voices and nonexistent sounds, violence against reality. In contrast, the ability of the Phantom of the Opera was not so alien in itself - although this did not mean that his Phantasm was in any way weaker. No, because the Noble Phantasm of the Phantom of the Opera embodies all the victims who died at the hands of the Phantom of the Opera - but, of course, not those that were created in the opera in the form of faceless characters. It was the embodiment of all the deceased singers and musicians - their unsung songs and unwritten melodies, sounds from the other world, from hell itself - carrying the horror and chaos of an unfinished play of life.

Anyone who heard this song would die - bursting into the consciousness of unfortunate victims, this music destroyed the very part of life, penetrating into the mind of the target, destroying their soul and body. Servants throughout the camp, hearing this music, had to instantly fall in agony, feeling the blood flow from all the pores of their body, bringing them suffering.

However, the Phantom, instead of lowering his face to see the affected Servants, suddenly felt a prick of pain. Looking down, he could only find a blade stuck between his ribs, and Archer, holding the blade.

"Ha?" He unexpectedly blinked, after which he stared at Mozart with an incomprehensible look, which only smiled at him.

"I'm just a simple musician," he smiled, "But still I am God's Child. Music - even the one like yours - obeys me. All I had to do was drown it out to prevent anyone from hearing these sounds. No more and no less."

"Ha?" The ghost looked at him blankly, after which he took a step back, allowing the two blades that remained in Archer's hands to slip out of his body, "Oh, in that case..."

"Hold Species," Ainz's spell bound the Assassin instantly, causing him to freeze, "Good."

Ainz's spell possessed catastrophic power - it was able to interrupt the movement of all muscles in the body of a Servant - including the respiratory ones. Prior to this, using aspell to bound the Servants, Ainz did not take this opportunity. Now? Perhaps the time has come for that.

The Phantom of the Opera froze - and suddenly realized that he was suffocating.

The nature of a Servant is amazing - the weapons of modern times were not able to inflict any damage, neither a blade, a firearm, nor even a strategic weapon. However, at the same time, such natural and ordinary things as strangulation or falling from a height were still dangerous for them. And therefore, now the Phantom of the Opera froze, feeling, that now he was choking.

Ainz took a step toward the Assassin, carefully examining the him.

Phantom of the Opera, hmm... It seems he heard about this one before - hmm, didn't Touch Me talked about him when he could get into some elite theater - or something like that?

The Phantom froze. How is this even possible? Together with Chevalier, they organized such a wonderful ambush - to use Sanson as a false Assassin, after which, when he is left alone - to strike and gain control over the mind of a Servant. Then - it was all so simple then... All of them could be cut one at a time, but Chevalier insisted that the captured puppet destroyed Mozart first - and the damned Mozart discovered his actions...

'Damn Chevalier!' - The Phantom of the Opera cursed to himself - 'He set me up!'

Ainz sighed and then put his hand forward, preparing to destroy the enemy Servant.

'Damn Chevalier! Damn Chevalier!' - the Phantom continued to think to himself. He was suffocating - and his death was as if inevitable. But not now.

The Phantom froze.

But not now.

The Phantom of the Opera was disgusting - his body and face were terrible, disfigured, disgusting and unnatural. This is how his image entered human consciousness - because part of his face was hidden behind an ugly mask - because, having exposed only a part of his ugliness to the public, he could hide his much more ugly features from the eyes of the onlookers.

But now he needed this ugliness.

Suddenly Ainz froze when something in the form of the Phantom subtly changed. It was as if some small but significant detail had caught his attention - while he knew that the victim of the spell was supposed to die from strangulation - something seemed to have triggered the instinct of the old veteran in him - and the mage rushed back.

"Get back!" He shouted, forcing Mozart and Archer to jump away from the already considered dead enemy, so the other Servants, that only now arrived, froze.

"Ah, you are not bad," the Phantom's voice suddenly sounded, but instead of the usual melodic, even feminine voice, it was a low, vibrating voice at the very limit of audibility "Very good."

The Phantom of the Opera was still paralyzed, so his face did not move - however, a voice still came from him, which caused Ainz to freeze. The light swaying of clothes on the body of the Assassin attracted his attention - and the rich experience in the destruction of the most disgusting and unnatural forms of life, coupled with the instinct of an old player, made him stop speculating.

"Magic arrow!" - he used the weakest spell available to him, which made the Phantom to sway when a clot of pure magic crashed into his body - however, the Assassin only continued to stand. Ainz achieved his goal - causing the cloth on Assassin's chest to burst, allowing Ainz to see the unnatural.

"Good," the huge, unnatural mouth on Assassin's chest blurred into a smile, "Good."

"Damn it!" - Ainz knew what such transformations usually meant. They meant the second phase of the battle with the Boss - so the magician instantly canceled his spell, after which he prepared for battle. The binding magic in this case was useless - no, even worse, it allowed the Servants to prepare a new attack.

However, the Assassin only swayed at the moment when the magician's binding ceased to act on him, after which he turned to him, "Thank you."

After that, the Assassin moved- but not forward, as one might expect - but somewhere to the side. For a second, Ainz was surprised - before he realized. The ghost was rushing toward Archer.

Archer managed to react to the Assassin's movement - he moved both his blades to take the blow - however, the second hand of the Phantom of the Opera darted to his face. For a second, something else distorted the Phantom's appearance - after which, instead of a thin, almost female hand, a clawed palm crashed into Archer's chest, turning into five blades where the fingers should have been.

"Napalm," Ainz reacted instantly, after which Assassin was caught on fire, but it didn't affect him much. Jumping back, he retreated to the far corner of the tent, after which, not paying any attention to the next spell, he threw himself through a cloth dissected by sharp claws. Archer, staggering, fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

"Don't chase him!" - Ainz gave the order to Marie Antoinette, who was already preparing for the chase,- "He is luring us into a trap."

"Archer," he turned to the Servant, after which he took a step towards him. Archer just waved his hand, spitting the accumulated blood in his mouth.

"I'm fine," Archer completely ignored the blood running from deep wounds and closed his eyes, "There, on the hill, in the church... Another Servant."

After that, Archer tried to breathe, but could only cough up blood yet again.

"Archer," Ainz just sighed at it, after which a bottle of red liquid, familiar to those present, appeared in his hand, "Drink it..."

"Regeneration will cope with this," Archer tried to brush aside what was offered to him, after which he opened his eyes, looking at the mage, "I don't need your medicine."

"Maybe," Ainz agreed, "But I still will offer them - and insist on it."

Archer fell silent, after which a sharp cough caused him to spit out bloody foam.

"Don't try to play friendly with me," Archer spat out viscous blood and again looked at the necromancer, "Necromancer."

"Sure thing," Ainz sighed, and then carried the bottles of blood-red liquid away from Archer. Archer sighed a little calmer, after which a few drops sharply hit him.

"What?!" He opened his eyes indignantly, seeing Ainz shaking the bottle, the contents of which he threw out onto the Servant. Archer was indignant for a second, but the magician only sighed.

"Still, they act like that," he said, after which he looked at Archer. Archer nevertheless looked at Ainz, but after a few pats on his body he discovered that even though the blood and torn clothes did not disappear - his wounds were healed, so while spitting blood again - he did not find more in his mouth.

Somewhat indignant, Archer looked at Ainz, to which he only sighed and nodded.

"I'll stay on guard," he said, "But you still need to rest ... Archer, you especially."

The Servant was about to argue, but looking at the magician, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"I can see in the dark," the magician explained, "And I don't need to sleep, so I can do my job. If the Servant is still here, then we have nowhere to rush to now."

After that, the Servants, nodding several times, slowly moved to their tents.

Denial of Life: EX (B)

Since this skill is the skill responsible for the existence of the undead as a creature, it was required to be of extremely high rank - however, with one important refinement, the Overlord, the highest rank of mages among the undead, is obliged to have an even higher rank. Despite the fact that, in essence, this skill is responsible for various abilities, such as protection against black magic or vision in the dark, the fact that this ability is responsible for possessing negative energy is also important. While all undead exist through negative energy, the Elder Liches - and their higher brethren, the Overlords - are able to seep negative energy through their touch or even presence. In other words, at this moment, since Ainz is completely suppressing his ability and this feature - in connection with his new body - this skill is only responsible for the ability to exist as undead and for passive features - protection and vulnerabilities. At the same time, if Ainz did not suppress this skill, his presence would exude such an amount of negative energy that even a single touch would be enough to turn a living person into a moderately strong undead, and his ability could turn even thrice consecrated silver into rotten trash in seconds. Even a Servant could not easily tolerate just one touch.

Even his presence would create certain problems, since dead corpses would rise up as brainless zombies within ten seconds in his presence - and living people would most likely die at the same time.