In the weeks following the debacle with Shalltear, Demiurge was pleased to see that Lord Ainz's finely crafted plans were progressing without issue.

As with most of his master's designs, Demiurge was in awe of his Lord's sheer brilliance. Worming his way into the trust and graces of the human populace, and furthering his grand vision for the future.

Truth be told, Demiurge was afraid that the plans and schemes he was setting in motion to further his Master's plans would pale before the grandness of the Supreme One's vision. A pointless collection of charades that would only result in disappointment from his Lordship. It was as if every time Demiurge thought he knew Lord Ainz's plan, his Lord would show him his folly with a great reveal or a turn of phrase that proved just how little Demiurge truly understood.

The adventurer Momon's rise to prominence? The claiming of Carne Village as his personal domain? Sebas and Solution's trip to Re-Estize? Citrinitas's own little charades in Arwintar? All carefully crafted steps in his master's grand plan! Even Shalltear's folly, a blunder by every metric, was seamlessly woven into Lord Ainz's existing plans! Such was his brilliance that even setbacks advanced his designs!

And the results spoke for themselves. The 'human' hero Momon is now the rising star in the New World, his apogee nowhere in sight. Crane Village served as an excellent testing site for rulership of the human nations. Sebas's reports, on what he saw and observed in the Kingdom's capital, were the catalyst for Demiurge coming into contact with the human Renner and allowing Nazarick to gain a contact within the Kingdom's leadership caste. Citrinitas's actions have given Nazarick a foothold in the Empire.

Why just today, Lord Ainz ordered the commencement of a 'Rulership Experiment' with the lizardmen. While humans are simple enough creatures to govern, other races have different impulses and natural inclinations to account for. While a Supreme Being was more than capable of ruling any of the subjects of his future empire, most of the mundane tasks associated with ruling are naturally beneath him. Such tasks are more fit for Nazarick's denizens and servants rather than the Supreme One himself.

To that end, Cocytus was ordered to rule the Lizardmen Alliance with respect rather than fear, a test to see if Nazarick's Guardians were worthy enough to rule in Lord Ainz's name. Demiurge had assumed Aura or Mare would have been chosen for the Rulership Experiment since Cocytus was not the most administratively inclined of the Guardians. More Mare than his sister, Aura is too rambunctious for such a task.

Such is Lord Ainz's designs that no matter how any of these plots unfold, victory or defeat, Nazarick wins.

Yet as he continued to mull over the finer details of executing his Lord's numerous plans, Demiurge overheard Albedo speaking with someone.

"I will not allow it," Albedo firmly stated. Looking into the Overseer's office, he realized she was speaking over a message scroll with someone. But who? Lord Ainz? No, he quickly wrote off. She would never speak to their Lord in such a manner.

Albedo's expression morphed as she received a reply.

"And as the Overseer of the Tomb, I have final say on all matters not directly involving the Supreme One's judgment on," she commented, wrapping her fingers against the desk. "And with the power granted to me by them, I will-"

Ah.

Familial inflection. Paternal undertones. She was speaking to Citrinitas, obviously.

She sighed over whatever her sister had replied with. "His Lordship is far too busy to be bothered with such-"

Albedo closed her eyes, rubbed her temple.

"What I am trying to do is protect you," the succubus raised her voice, her expression as natural as it can be given the heatedness of the argument.

"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"

"We are not-," Albedo sighed, her expression shifting. One didn't need to be clairvoyant to tell the sisterly conversation had ended.

"Shall I guess what that was all about, or will you deign to tell me," Demiurge finally made his presence known, taking a few tentative steps into the Overseer's office.

"Demiurge," he could feel the iciness in her tone. "This issue doesn't involve you."

"Even if she didn't, her orders from the Supreme One come before anything you would command of her," Demiurge ignored Albedo's comment and turned to the homunculus. "I heard enough to gather you're concerned for her safety."

"She's too valuable to Nazarick to risk falling under someone else's control." Like Shalltear went unsaid.

"The concept of value was hardly the primary cause for your concern," he shook his head, pushed his glasses up, and crossed the threshold of her office. "There's nothing wrong with admitting familial attachment is coloring your thoughts."

"…I worry for her," Albedo finally admitted with a sigh, the coldness in her tone draining away. "I would never seek to undermine Lord Ainz's goals with my own selfish wants, but I can't help but worry for her safety. While brilliant and talented, she is the weakest of my sisters. If whoever went after Shallter was to turn their gaze upon her…"

"Understandable," Demiurge nodded. "But don't think so little of her. The role she is to play in the first major operation of Lord Ainz's grand plan should be evidence enough of our Lord's faith in her abilities. And now that we are aware of this outside actor, they will never catch us unawares again. Shalltear's domination was shameful, but it hardly disrupted Lord Ainz's plans."

"…and how are the preparations for it moving along?" Albedo did not challenge Demiurge on their Lord's confidence but pivoted to another topic, moving away from the emotional nature of her relationship with her sister.

Demiurge knew when to not press his luck and dig deeper into a topic.

"Quite well," Demiurge smiled, seamlessly shifting along with her. "I actually find myself a bit taken aback and humbled by how quickly your sister finish preparations on her end. Here I am proud to have gotten my first collaborator, and there she is already finishing up the last of the necessary set up for her side of the operation."

"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?" Albedo's earlier concern and iciness gave way to playful mirth and banter. While her tone was genuine, he could hardly tell if it was from his comment on her sister's actions or his perceived back footedness that his praise implied. Most likely the latter.

"Merely good sportsmanship," he dismissed the subtle jab. "I'm not so proud as to deny a well-executed plan when I see it. I expect no more than two days before her designs are completed. After that, all she has to do is wait until the operation begins in earnest."

"Which are still set to occur by the end of the month, at the latest, correct?"

"Naturally," Demiurge smiled. "While our Lord's persona has reached the highest adventurer rank obtainable, his deeds must be further exalted before Gehenna can begin. With his and Naberal's current rate of accumulating accolades, he will no doubt find his way to the capitol soon enough."

"So what is this plan you and my dear sister have been scheming?", Albedo questioned.

"We hardly devised it," he shook his head, "we are merely carrying out our parts of Lord Ainz's plan. We are merely humble servants executing his will."

"And that is?" she pressed him again.

"Oh, you don't know?"

"I know enough to see the end result, but the exact specifics elude me," Albedo admitted, before shooting Demiurge a look. "And I do trust you will take my sister's combat experience, or lack thereof, into account before you send some beast after her."

"I am not one to overestimate others abilities no matter how substantial they may appear at first glance," Demiurge assured the Overseer. Sharp and intelligent as she might be, Citrinitas lacked the combat skills of even Lord Ainz's handicapped Momon persona. "While the battle will be far less grand than the one in Re-Estize, it will be quite the performance and safe for her. I'm hardly going to summon an Evil Lord to be her foe."

"I'll hold you to that," Albedo noted, no doubt thinking of ways to hurt him should her precious sister be harmed in any meaningful way. "Still, I have to ask: what is the 'Demon Emperor's' connection to my sister's character? Lord Ainz's Momon is simple enough, it's a standard hero's journey tale humans can't seem to get enough of. But her part in this plan, and even your own for that matter, seem opened ended in most regards."

"For our benefit naturally," Demiurge replied. After all, how could mere servants like them be expected to follow Lord Ainz's glorious plans to the exacting letter? Knowing his subject's limits, Lord Ainz must have crafted such a scenario in such a way that even deviations from his original vision advance his grand designs! Such is the intellect of their liege. "As for her connection, well… I'll leave that a surprise."

"From Lord Ainz?" She scoffed at the notion.

"Hardly, he's fully aware of our little storyline and all the potential paths it may take," Demiurge chuckled at the mere thought of surprising his Lord. "No, the surprise is for the Tomb's denizens. After all, what good is a story if you already know the twists and turns it will take?"

While Albedo looked as if she wanted to dispute his claim, she did not raise the issue. They exchanged some more small talk over some trivial matters. Current food consumption rates, the course of Cocytus's rulership, the supply of human chattel for scroll production, nothing too important.

Still, as he made his way out of her office, he would silently admit that Albedo did have a point.

Despite her strength, Demiurge would be an utter fool to let Citrinitas wander about without any protection. Personal acquaintanceship aside, she is an asset the Tomb cannot afford to lose. Given the weakness of her own homunculi adjuncts, the most reasonable course of action was to send another with her to act as a guardian of sorts.

But that still left him with an issue that he didn't know who should play the role of her 'Lilith's' persona associate from her 'homeland'. They had to fit the theme Citrinitas had created for her fictional lands while also taking into account the origin of 'Jaldabaoth'. True, the role was meant for later in their performance, but he was certain she would understand why they had to move it up the timetable.

Yet still, who would play the role?

Aura and Mare were still mentally too young for him to put on a mission like this in spite of their strength. Sebas would be a fine choice, were he not already on a mission with Solution.

Cocytus, too inhuman to blend in without considerable magical illusions and too inflexible to socially integrate himself within human society.

The Pleiades were too busy seeing to Nazarick or other minor tasks, like Lupersiga overseeing Crane Village or Naberal masquerading as Nabe with him.

They could hardly send an inhuman looking servant without considerable magical illusions, not to mention how well they would interact with humans for prolonged periods. He's already seen from Naberal that some in the Tomb, though loyal and true in their convictions, cannot hold their tongues when dealing with lesser beings.

It does bring up an interesting paradox, he supposed. Should a servant of the Supreme Ones defend their Master's honor, or do they hold their tongues as ordered by Lord Ainz himself and allow their Lord to be disrespected by lesser beings? It was quite the cyclical argument. They were created to serve and exalt the Supreme Ones, yet to follow their orders they must allow Lord Ainz to be insulted and to speak up in his defense would mean disobeying him.

Demiurge understands the mental dissonance such orders can cause. But in his mind, if Lord Ainz orders one to hold their tongue before a lesser being insulting himself then so be it. Did their words really matter before a godlike being such as Lord Ainz? When those lesser beings lie rotting in the ground, Lord Ainz will still be spinning machinations the likes of which even Demiurge could hardly fathom.

But as he ran through the list in his head, even considering sending one of her other sisters with her, debating who would be more amiable, Negredo or Rubedo, he had an epiphany!

There actually was one person in the Tomb who fit the criteria for a long-term mission like this. Humanoid in appearance, so she could blend in more easily with her surroundings with minimal illusionary magic required, socially aware enough to interact with lesser beings for prolonged periods (even if her baser urges need to be kept in check), strong enough to ward off any threat, and has a personal, vested, interest in working with the homunculus.

It almost seemed too fine a match for random chance.

Unless…

No.

Could He have foreseen this as well?

The variables are too specific to be a product of mere chance, a greater intelligence must have been behind it.

Lord Ainz's brilliance truly knew no bounds!

---

Even physically out of the Tomb, I still seemingly get roped into the nonsense that goes on there.

"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"

Like having an overprotective sister who thinks I'll shatter like glass if I so much as scrape my knee.

Albedo has gotten very helicopter-parent like ever since I returned to Arwitnar following Shalltear's mind control incident. I mean objectively I know she has no idea I have the item used to control Shalltear in my inventory and therefore cannot have it used against me, but she doesn't know that, and I can hardly tell her. Way too many questions can be brought from that can of worms. Still doesn't make listening to her constantly calling me to come back any less annoying.

And she keeps calling me about what it feels like every other day.

She even tried to pull rank on me. Which I countered by telling her that Ainz specifically told me to be here, and therefore she has no authority to recall me.

I mean, I think that was his order. Eh…that's the story I'm sticking with.

But I have more important things to do right now than waste half an hour talking in circles with this succubus.

I hurriedly, and clunkily, moved to end the conversation, "Look, I'm sorry, but I do have important things to do today. I'll talk to you another time."

"We are-" I cut the connection and sighed. Wish she would just stop calling me already. Oh, I can already tell I'm going to hear an earful from her next time she contacts me.

But I wasn't lying when I said I have more important things to do.

Walking away from the manor study I had sequestered myself in, I quickly made my way back to my guest. Coming towards the hallway, it seemed she had moved on from admiring the weird looking crystal chandeliers to the suits of armor on display

"What is this stuff," Arche asked when she noticed I had returned from the 'bathroom', tapping her knuckle against a transmuted suit of armor. "I can tell it's not painted, so what is it?"

"Scarletite," I answered.

"I've never heard of it," the mage admired her own reflection in the polished crimson breastplate.

After about a month away, Team Foresight finally returned from their mission a few days ago. While hardly rushing over to see me, she did catch me when I was leisurely walking the streets yesterday. Kind of a 'small world' moment where she managed to find the exact place I was in a massive city. Still, we had some small talk and I invited her over to both to just hang out and to show off my home. She accepted, and here we are today.

"it's a type of metal called a prismatic ore," I continued, feeling more than a little smug showing off Yggdrasil stuff to a new worlder. "Higher quality, and rarer, that even adamantite. And your right about not seeing it anywhere else. Brought a chunk of this stuff to a mineral expert and he had no idea what it was. I guess it's not native here?"

"Like I said, I've never heard of anything like this. At least, none of the books I've read mention anything like this stuff," Arche hummed to herself. "I mean, there are experiments into mixing metals like mythril with more mundane ores to make something new, but mineralogy is hardly my subject of choice."

"You don't say."

"Wait," the mage tilted her head as she realized something. "If it's rarer than adamantine, how can you afford so many suits of armor?" She gestured to the six other suits of armor lining the walls.

"Well Arche…that's for me to know and you to guess about," cryptic, but it's easier to leave it as that then say, 'I used my video game powers to magic it into existence'.

"Don't worry, you keep your secrets," she rolled her eyes at my over overly cryptic words.

"So you want to sit down and have something to drink," I asked, gesturing to the living room.

"Yeah, that would be nice," Arche rubbed the back of her neck. "No offense, Lilly, but while these are beautifully made, I feel like they're watching me. Weird right?"

"Not really," I shrugged, leading her into the dining room.

"Why? Did you feel the same when you first got them?" She asked.

"What? Oh no. I meant, I don't think it's weird because they are watching you," I clarified.

"…eh?" Arche stopped mid step and blinked at my comment, then swung her head around to look at the suits again.

"Yep," I smiled looking at the arrayed suits. "Take two steps forward."

Before Arche could question me further, the suits stepped off their small platforms in perfect unison. The young mage looked startled by the suddenness of the motion and had the look of a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a speeding car at the display. Her gaze shifted between me and the golems.

"Face me," I grinned. Yeah, I was showing off a bit, loving the look of surprise on her face as the suits turned in unison to me. "Kneel," I saw her mind going into overdrive as the golems fell to one knee before us.

"How did you get…I mean, why do you have them," Arche was at a loss for words by the display.

"Remember when I said that prismatic ores are used in magical processes," I reminded her, "well one of them is to create high quality golems."

"Golems…really?"

"That's the technical term at least," I shrugged. "Constructs created with magic, that about sums up what a golem is right?"

"Um...yeah," Arche gathered herself and cleared her throat. "That is the official definition. I'm just surprised how small they are. Most golems I've seen are far bulkier."

"Bulkier as in…"

"This hallway would be too small for them," Arche explained, gesturing with her arms. "Also, they tend to be made of more common materials like rock, iron, and wood. Not that they can't be made of other materials. Master Burkens texts on the matter say that…"

Oh I think I excited her…

"….and sure they stand upright, walk on two legs , have two arms, and usually have an analogue to a head atop the torso but they're hardly human in appearance," she noted, her hands running along the helm of the sanguine knight. "But these? They move with the grace of a normal man…"

You know, for a girl that is a bit on the quiet side, she sure has a motor mouth when she really gets into something she likes. I don't think it's the golems themselves, but the magic behind them she's interested in.

"…and look how smooth the material is. I've never seen anything like it," she continued to gush about the suits of armor. I didn't think I did that good of a job. "And the soft curves, as if the plates were forged specifically for the frame."

"Are you still talking about the golem?" I coughed as I realized exactly what I just said.

"Hm? What else could I be talking about," Arche tilted her head.

Oh Arche, you sweet summer child. Being so innocent, I cannot help myself now. "I mean, you're talking about curves and slimness, and you look like you're about to salivate on the thing."

"As a magic scholar, amateur as I am, it-" Arche's explanation stopped dead in its tracks as a tinge of redness filled her cheeks. Oh, looks like she finally realized it. She pouted and shot me a glare, "very mature, Lilly."

"I don't know, you were the one sliding your hands down along the sides saying how 'smooth to the touch' it was and complimenting its curves. Was this a slip of the tongue Arche? Maybe you had something else on your mind? You are 'that' age when these things become prevalent." I just couldn't stop myself!

"You know exactly what I was talking about," her pout intensified yet she didn't elaborate further. Probably out of fear that I would twist her words into something far less 'mature' than she intends. She's right, of course. "And besides, you're about the same age as me. Perhaps you were the one whose mind was in the gutter?"

"If you say so," not commenting on her assessment. "Couldn't you just be projecting your deepest, darkest, desires without realizing it? It starts with words, but where does it end? Should I be scared to be alone with you Arche?"

"You ought to be if you keep at it," she pouted again, I had to hold back laughing as she tried to look upset.

As much as I would love to keep teasing her, I knew better than to push my luck…this time at least.

"Fine, I'll drop it," for now, "let me just get these guys back in place and you can get to that story you have about your last job." Waving to the golems, they returned to their original places, all in eerie unison. "Now you were saying that-"

"Forgive me My Lady," Mya walked towards us, shooting Arche a quick glare before turning her eyes to me. "But you have a supplicant at the door waiting to speak to you."

"Wait…waiting for me?" that threw me for a loop.

"Yes My Lady."

"And they asked for me? By name?"

"They did not, they merely wished to speak with the owner of this domicile," Mya corrected me.

The fact that I was asked for that very generic title means that this probably wasn't someone from Nazarick. But then who could it be? Eight Fingers? A stupid Eight Fingers then if their walking up to my front door and announcing themselves. By that token it could even be a city guard coming by to take a statement on the issue. Maybe someone from one of the shops whose inventory I pilfered with my transmuted gold? Maybe finally figuring out I hoodwinked them with copper coins?

Waving Arche to go to the living room ahead of me, I didn't really know what to expect as I strode to the front door.

But I can safely say that I didn't expect a purple haired woman with mismatching eyes and a monocle.

"Greetings, and good morning, madam," the woman gave an overexaggerated bow, "I am Sophie Noia, Head of the Chosen. Please pay no attention to the mages hiding behind the hedges to the left."

"Uhh yeah, good morning," well this is off to a quirky start. I arched my head out of the doorway to look where she mentioned. Sure enough, I saw the top of some hoods behind the bushes. "Can I help you with something?"

"That is a bit of a story," Sophia confessed. "See, my Master has been interested in having a meeting between him and yourself for some time. While he was waiting for you to approach him yourself, your reclusiveness has caused him to change tactics and thus he dispatched a number of his disciples, myself included, to find an appropriate moment to extend an invitation. However, I feel that my time is better spent in scholarly pursuits, so I decided to simply create the appropriate moment to provide you with an invitation."

"Okay…"

"Indeed," she either didn't care or didn't notice my indifference to her words. "All you need to do is present yourself to the Earth Guards at the Ministry of Magic at your earliest convenience, tell them the Arch Wizard is waiting for you, and they'll do the rest."

"Okay. Um…thank you," I didn't really know what else to say, who was this lady even talking about?

"It is no problem madam. And since my work is done, I bid you a good day," with another exaggerated bow, she turned on her heel and walked off. Her companions rushed from the bushes after her, no doubt giving her an earful for her breaking 'cover' I guess. I watched them until they turned the corner, still bickering with one another it seemed.

Hmm, kind of strange, but not the weirdest thing to ever happen to me.

I almost forgot about the whole exchange by the time I reached the living room.

"So, who was it?" Arche asked, her gloves laid beside her on the sofa, bare hands cradling a fine China looking cup of tea.

"I don't know," I shrugged, sitting across from her. "Some lady that is part of a group called 'the Chosen' or something. Said her teacher wanted to see me or something. Sounds like a cult to me."

"Wait," that got Arche's attention. "A person from The Chosen Thirty? Did she say what her name was?"

"Umm, I think it was something Noia? Sophia I think." I was a little surprised by Arche's sudden interest.

"You mean Sophie Noia," Arche corrected, her eyes grew wide.

"Yeah, that was her name. Know her?" I took a sip of the sweet drink laid out for me. Looks like they weren't a cult after all if Arche knew them. Or maybe they were, and Arche happened to know about them.

"Lilly," she looked at me in a mix of befuddlement and amazement, "The Chosen are the personal students of Master Paradyne. The strongest mage alive," she added the second part for my benefit as I was a foreigner. "Every one of the Chosen is at least a third-tier magic caster. Sophie is a fourth-tier caster, and one of the strongest mages in the Empire."

"Oh…"I commented. Though I will say I kind of remember a guy named Paradyne in the source material. "You seem to know a lot about them."

"I know a lot about them because…I used to be a member of the Chosen," Arche looked down at her drink. "I used to be one of Master Paradyne's students, until I… when my parents started to…"

"Until you needed to help your family with their financial situation," I finished her sentence.

"To keep them from going destitute and dragging my sisters with them, yes," she frowned for a moment at the mention of her parents. "I loved learning under him, I was even on track to become a fourth-tier caster but… My sisters need me more than I needed to learn. So I left."

Oh, now I remember him! Fluder Paradyne! The Empire's quisling.

"What could he want with me?" I thought aloud. All I can really remember about the character is that he sold out his own nation after he met Ainz and saw the skeleton's true power with his magical eye talent that shows a person's magical power based on sight alone.

…

Hmm.

I think I know how he 'found' me.

"I'd guess it was because your magical power is abnormal," Arche proposed.

"Abnormal," I parroted. That's right, Arche has the same talent as him. Wait…does that mean she can see how powerful I am, or how powerful I really am?

"Abnormal in the sense you have so much magical energy," she quickly corrected herself. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she put her hand in front of her eyes. "Looking at you with my talent is like looking at a light after being confined to darkness for hours, it burns my eyes. Kind of like a less intense aura than Master Paradyne's actually."

"Really? He has more mana than me?" So as powerful as I 'am'. I guess I should be glad that the suppression ring is working if a human can be seen as more powerful than me. Then again, it kind of makes sense why Arche overreacted when she first saw Ainz in the story if my fifth-tier magical signature is enough to bother her.

"Magical energy," Arche corrected, "different from mana, and yes, he is. Master Paradyne's aura is akin to looking into the sun with your bare eyes, so bright and overpowering that it'll make you blind if you stare for too long."

You haven't seen anything yet Arche….

"And me?"

"Like I said, less intense than Master Paradyne, but still painful without preparing myself," taking a deep breath, she slowly moved her hand away from her eyes. Her eyes glowed a cerulean blue. She squinted immediately, and I could almost see her pupils dilate. "It's actually how I was able to find you the other day."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her eyes a tad more open. "Your signature is so unique that I can pick it out across the city. Beyond Master Fluder's, yours is the only one I've ever been able to differentiate on sight alone."

"So you're saying I'm special?" For whatever reason I just loved hearing someone comment how powerful I was, even if they were only seeing half of what I was truly capable of.

"Yeah, I guess so," she took another sip of her drink. "So, when are you going to go see him?"

While I was going to give a flat, 'I'm not' the thought occurred to me.

One of the reasons for the Empire's vassalization to Ainz's kingdom was thanks to the efforts of Fluder who saw Ainz's power and just swore fealty to him on the spot. Given I have an equally ridiculous pool of mana and capable of tenth-tier magic, wouldn't he give me the same reverence if I took off my suppression ring next to him?

Granted, I can hardly just walk over, kick down the door, take off the ring, and go 'bow, I am your God now!'. Not just because I think that's a little weird, but I ugh…

"I…I don't know where he is," I sheepishly noted. Before I could say anything else, like ask for directions, I saw Arche had her eyes fully open now. Her talent enhanced sight seemingly adjusted to my reduced magical power. I stared transfixed at their color.

The blue glow was mesmerizing…

"Most days he's the Ministry of Magic's main building," Arche told me. Blinking, she cut off the talent and stood up. Smiling, she offered me her hand, "come on, I'll take you there. I know from experience that Master Paradyne doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Before I could even reply, I was led out of my own home by Arche. With her hand clasped around my own as we fast walked down the busy mid-day streets, I couldn't help but feel like this was going to be a long day for more than one reason.

---

"What a mess", Morrice Lowton sighed, looking over the recent letter from the Executive Committee. Raced into the city by the fastest courier service the Eight Fingers had control of. It was marked as urgent.

"How bad sir?" Gramm commented at his superior's distress. "Like how burning down bad?"

"Worse," sighing, he handed the message to Gramm for him to see what he meant. Morrice's day had been going so well until now. But this letter made his stomach turn and his blood run cold.

In response to their own failings, the Committee was now demanding greater revenue shares from their foreign branches in such a short timeframe that it was completely impossible to meet.

The cause? The adventurer group Blue Rose just took down another couple black dust plantations, meaning the Eight Finger's coffers were going to take a sizable hit in potential profits. It was the same across the board in Re-Estize thanks to the Princess's reforms. Weapons sales down, need for hired muscle down, debtors being sold into slavery raking in a fraction of their debt's value, it seemed like the only damn thing that still made a continuous profit was gambling and prostitution.

But how in the Gods name did they assume he gathered a sum five times that of his branch's annual revenue as the monthly amount they wanted from now on? It was ludicrous!

And it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. When the Manager of the Roble branch replied to this dictate with a strongly worded message detailing how Committee's demands were outrageous, they responded by sending the Six Limbs to 'deal' with him. The freaks tore through Roble's Branch's security and tortured the Manager to death in front of the survivors.

So no, Morrice does not have a means to counter these insane demands. It wasn't solely a monetary issue, his branch was the most solvent of all Eight Fingers operations by far, but a manpower one.

Suppose he did turn his back on the Committee, raise his 'banner' in defiance, strike out on his own, then what? Line up his own, merger, forces against the full might of the Eight Fingers? Across the Empire, he had only about eighty or so men he could rely upon to stay loyal to him if such a conflict were to break out. Granted he's been funneling the best equipment to them for quite some time, and he has men with potent Talents like Gramm by his side, but eighty against the hundreds are not odds he likes.

He also lacked the funds for any sort of prolonged conflict. True, his manpower shortage could be alleviated by purchasing the services of every worker in the Empire to act as a meat shield between himself and the Committee. And it could work….until he ran out of money to pay them, where the workers would then fight amongst themselves for the privilege of turning him over to the Eight Fingers themselves.

Maybe he would have all the funds he would ever need if his plans with that gold making girl came to fruition. He had some of his men shadow her and that worker friend of hers for a while, found out where she lived, but his plans didn't get any further than that. When his men started reporting that she was also being tailed by imperial agents he called off all observations and washed his hands of the kid. He may be greedy, but he's not stupid. The girl caught the eye of someone at court, probably a mage who wanted her to join the Ministry. Kidnapping someone with that kind of attention was bound to paint a target on his back.

So here he was: either stay loyal to the Committee and be strung up when he eventually can't meet their insane monthly quotas, or rebel and get strung up anyway when his meager forces collapse in the face of the tender mercies of the Six Limbs.

"Sir, they can't seriously think that this is workable," Gramm questioned, having finished reading the missive.

"I'm afraid they're deadly serious," Morrice nervously laughed at his own play on words.

"If that's the case, remind the men that I'll triple whatever they offer them," Morrice sighed as he cleaned his glasses. "There is very little I wouldn't give to keep my head firmly on my shoulders."

"Well then I have quite the proposition for you…"

"What-" Morrice jolted in his seat at the sudden appearance of an unknown voice.

As if appearing within the blink of an eye, someone was standing before him. There was no sound, no movement, he just appeared there. At first glance, they looked like a man, even dressed like one. Look being the keyword however, since even discounting the pointed ears and abnormal height, he knew no civilized race that had a metallic tail.

"What the-" Gramm glared at the creature, quickly placing himself between Morrice and the intruder.

"I apologize for any immediate distress I may have caused," the figure commented, spoken with an air of affable politeness, even the mask on his face unsettled Morrice to no end. "But I couldn't help but overhear your problematic situation."

"How the hell did you get in here?" Gramm ignored the pleasantries. "Hey Boys! Get in here already!"

A tiny voice in Morrice's mind whispered that his guards were probably dead if the…man was in here with them, perhaps the halls of his home were running red already. But low and behold, moments after Gramm's call, guards flooded into Morrice's office one after another. They seemed just as confused as Gramm and Morrice at the sight of the intruder. They surrounded the figure, weapons drawn, gawking at the overall strangeness of the intruder in much the same way he and Gramm had moments ago.

"The fuck is this freak doing here?" One of his men thought aloud, his blade tip centimeters from the figure's orange attire. "How'd he get in?"

"I simply entered through the front entrance," the intruder glibly replied, lolling his gaze over to the speaker. "It is hardly my fault I so completely evaded your detection when your security precautions are so pathetic."

"Pathetic!?"

"Indeed," the figure shook his head, "but your own ineptitude is hardly the issue at hand." He returned his gaze to Morrice, "instead, I would like to focus on your problems."

"You break into my home and expect to sit down and have a chat with me?" Morrice tried to hide his inner concern, hands slowly moving under his desk to a magic wand enchanted to hold several spells of the third tier. An expensive bauble that he hoped he'd never have to use in an actual capacity. He's only used it twice, both occasions to see if the wand still worked from lack of use.

"In simple terms, yes. Though no need to bring over a chair on my behalf, I prefer to stand," the metallic tail swished back and forth.

"You think you're funny?" Gramm growled at the intruder, gesturing for the men to apprehend their 'guest'. "We got a place for clowns like you, the breaking wheel."

"I would like to think I have an above average sense of humor," the man chuckled to himself as the men closed in around him. "And I would recommend against this course of action, for your own sake," the demi-human commented as a guard grabbed him by the shoulder, though his tone was still far too relaxed for one in his situation.

"Really think you're in any position to make-"

CRUNCH

Morrice blinked as he felt a gust of wind blow against him and something red splatter across his face and glasses. Taking off his glasses with a surreal sense of calm, he noticed a cloud of sanguine vita now hung where a dozen men once stood.

And there was blood everywhere….

The walls, the furniture, the windows, everything was caked in a fine layer of gore. His men were little more than pieces of flesh and bone, some pieces still held together by the thinnest of strings of meat, surrounding the figure whose attire was clean of even the smallest drop of viscera.

Of the men from before, only Gramm was miraculously still alive after whatever that was. Slumped over against a wall wheezing, trying to hold his chest closed with his bare hands in a vain effort to keep his innards in place.

"Oh? Would you look at that," the man- creature commented looking at Gramm, his voice sounding genuine for the first time since this…interaction began. "Not only did you survive my strike, but you even managed to make me feel some slight discomfort in my wrist, momentary as it might be," wringing the offending hand to emphasize the point. "But how? Not magic. No enchanted items besides the ones below the desk, no potions, no…ah! I see now. You have one of those Talents I've heard so much about? Some kind of dynamokinesis or kinetic redirection. You didn't hurt me, you redirected some of my blow back into me and in turn softened the blow against yourself. It must work automatically, since there is no possibility your reflexes were fast enough. Do I have the gist of it?"

Gramm spat at the creature as his gore-soaked form slid to the ground, still wheezing as blood filled his lung.

"Now don't be like that," the creature chastised. "I mean all of this as a compliment. Truly, congratulations are in order, as you are the first human in this world to have harmed me. Granted it was my own strength reflecting back upon me, and it was the merest hint of discomfort than actual harm, but one should hardly nitpick over details. Indeed, such deeds deserve a reward, wouldn't you say?" The demon reached into some kind of portal that seemingly appeared to his side and poured the contents of a small vial of sanguine liquid onto Gramm's blooded chest. "That should suffice. Now where was I? Oh yes, my proposition!"

Morrice looked on as Gramm's chest knitted itself back together before his very eyes. It took him only a moment to realize what the vial held, as Gramm seemingly returned to normal from the brink of death. "God's Blood? How does a demon like you have something like that?"

"Is that what you call it?" It was amused. "Moving back to the topic at hand, I wanted to discuss with you a solution to your 'committee' issues."

"We have nothing to speak of demon," Morrice's heart was threatening to burst inside his chest from fear.

"Your Executive Committee will be powerless by the end of the month," the creature brusquely cut off Morrice.

"I'm sorry?" Did he hear that right?"

"Assuming they aren't killed," the demon continued. "Given the power vacuum that will form, with Roble's branch already decimated and the theocracy's branch barely existing as a solvent entity, you would be the single most powerful member of the Eight Fingers by process of elimination. In such a void, all the power would be yours, you'd only need to reach out and take it when the time comes. With my assistance of course, provided you are willing to work with me."

"I- What?" Morrice was at a loss for words. What was this creature, this demon, talking about?

"Goodness, where are my manners? I have yet to properly introduce myself," the demon took an over exaggerated bow, the kinds Morrice would see in a mummers performance. "You may call me Jaldabaoth, and as I said before, I have a proposition for you."

Without waiting for him to reply, the demon began to speak at length of his plan, of the sheer scale of his machinations as if Morrice had already agreed.

What choice did he reasonably have? Voice his refusal and become a part of the new coat of paint on the wall?

Yet as the minutes ticked by and more of the creature's plans came to light, Morrice started to feel lightheaded. It was…monstrous. Horrid. Evil.

"-but I will handle those specifics. Simply stick to your part, and I promise you shall be rewarded beyond your imagination; everything I promised and more. So, what do you think? Do we have a deal?" As the demon finished saying his piece, Morrice could only imagine the demon's facial expression mirrored that on his mask: a sinister smile that foreshadowed greater horrors just beyond the horizon.

And what choice did he have?