The great doors to the Throne room opened. A skull-shaped face emerged from the darkness. The rest of its body was an elegant black and red ensemble.

"Ah, Tabula-san, there you are," he said. There was a figure on the other end of the big throne room. It was humanoid, with slimy, grotesque features which looked more at home in the lightless murk of the oceans. "Are you not ready? The meeting's about to begin."

The one named Tabula raised a hand in greeting. "Yo, Momonga-san. I'll be right there, just give me a sec." He waved his hands in front of him, like he were casting a spell.

"...What are you doing over there?" Tabula stood before one of the NPCs. The name escaped Momonga at the moment. Yet he was sure she was Tabula's.

"Fixing something." Tabula did not say anything more than that.

Finding it hard to maintain the pretense of conversation, Momonga palmed the [Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown]. "Okay. Try not too take too long. It's an important meeting, after all, and I hope everyone'll be there."

"I will, Guildmaster," Tabula said. In a flash of light, Momonga left, leaving nothing but silence and a pensive man, standing before his creation.

Last spring, Prince Barbro of the Archduchy of Re-Estize crossed the border with an army of ten thousand. The next day, the Holy Kingdom's best and brightest crossed their side of the border. For a while it was a race on who could gobble up territory before the other. People in my city laid odds on the two rivals getting stuck in on a fierce battle.

A week later, the city of Rober lifted the white flag to the armies of Queen Bessarez. Not long after, Pesper fell to Prince Barbro after a brief siege. After that the rumors became vague. Some say the two armies had skirmished; no, that there had been a deal, a treaty, an agreement.

Brumarashur had long sold itself to Re-Estize. Rivela had been captured through treachery. Last winter the Bloody Emperor had forced the surrender of easternmost Urobar before the Archduchy could campaign there.

So much for the Union of Free Cities. Now with Rober and Pesper gone, the only remaining city that was "free" was Carne.

The city council debated long and into the night. They did so for many nights. Surrender, but to whom? On what terms? Defiance, but with what force?

As spring crossed lazily to summer, it became clear that Prince Barbro would make the attempt before the year was done. The Queen had recalled much of her armies back, meaning the Holy Kingdom was satisfied with gaining Rober.

Now we received emissaries from the Archduchy, demanding peaceful surrender. Carne had been the technical "capital" of the Union. The Duke who had sparked the rebellion against the then-Kingdom of Re-Estize had ruled in Carne. Together with his allied nobles, they had carved out a land for themselves, leaving the old Kingdom a bleeding husk.

Re-Estize would not surely forget that humiliation. That was the source of Carne's trepidation. They would have gladly vowed fealty to the Archduke otherwise.

In our turn, we sent emissaries to certain people. Of these, I was not aware, until I witnessed the rituals.

Asking the gods for help wasn't something I would scoff at. But surely this was not the time for auguries? Besides, did not the enemy have the patronage of these very same gods?

They prayed at the temples of Touch Me, of the triune aspects of Bukubukuchagama; at the sanctuaries of Blue Planet, of kind Yamaiko, the shrines dedicated to Warrior Takemikazuchi, Slayer of Dragons, the forge-God, Amanomahitotsu, or the God of Wiles, Punitto Moe; deep in the hidden chapels of the Three-faced Goddess' Fertile Brother, Peroroncino, the Untiring Abyss, Herohero, and of the Lord of Secrets, Tabula Smaragdina.

Shady figures made their presence known in those days as well. They brought forbidden objects with them, outlawed fetishes and images banned everywhere, whose mere sight would make a paladin blush. There were cultists of the Four Disasters: Ulbert Alain Odle, Variable Talisman, Bellriver, Luci*fer. There came ill-disguised beastmen bringing their foul-smelling effigies of Beast King Mekongawa.

Even the terrible Arbiter of Death, who oversaw the whole of Creation, Momonga, was petitioned. Every Supreme Being was called, in ritual, in song, in plea.

No one answered, neither in word nor omen.

The vote to surrender was unanimous. And if the issue was only left at that then I would've been satisfied. Unfortunately for me, the city raised one more issue, one directly related to me.

"Our Great Armor must not fall to the Duchy!" was the other unanimous decision the good old council decided. Old General Alfaraz, ancestor on my mother's side, had passed down to me my single most valuable headache-the piece of junk that marked me for a soldier before I was ever even born.

The Jashin armor was eight feet tall, heavier than a house and tough enough to withstand dragon's fire. It could grant strength equal to a hundred men. It was enchanted to be worn by anyone tall enough to fit into the frame, tied to the blood of the original owner, through a secret process that only the forge-priests of Amanomahitotsu knew.

Their combat power was such that the old Duke Lima had sent six of his Jashin, including my ancestor the General, against ten thousand soldiers from the Kingdom, where they prevailed. This was accomplished by separately baiting the enemy Jashin away. It prevented Jashin from meeting Jashin, a catastrophic and expensive affair. The forge-priests demanded much for their services.

My brief tenure as Jashin-wearer was delivering cannons, boxes of shot and powder barrels to Brumarashur, work that spanned three whole days. You can imagine my consternation when that city willfully surrendered to the Kingdom instead of fighting.

Mine was the only Jashin still remaining in the Union. And point of pride meant it could not fall into Archduke Lanposa III's hands.

Naturally, there was nothing I could do about the council's decision. I could not even protest. It was off to the Dread Woods, to die if it was my fate, and keep the armor there, forever.

I stood before the mirror on the night before departure and cursed the woman who stood looking back. Cursed me for being born, for being led to this trap, when long ago I could have ended it all by hurling myself from the highest point on the city walls. The armor had once been my pride, when the city of Carne and all who lived there had been worth fighting for. But time and toil had changed my perspective.

I could not flee, taking my burden with me; to become mercenary, or to offer my Jashin to the Archduke's mercy. While I held the key to unlock and use the armor, the city mayor held another key, which ignited the magical process that allowed me to wear it. Worst of all, it was like a compass-and could point to where the armor was in the world. If it pointed in any other direction than the Dread Woods, then he could easily deactivate the magic, crushing my body inside the armor in a single instant.

"You're still awake," said a voice behind me. I looked back and saw my childhood friend, Nfrea Bareare. I could almost pity him. When he heard the council's decree, he had been the loudest to argue. He'd condemned the decision, even insulting the need to glorify Duke Lima's memory. He'd get a lot of stink for that, and if it weren't for his alchemy shop, they'd already be dragging him out the walls.

"I finished with the last bits you wanted," he continued. "Several potions, antidotes, flash-sticks. And the mini-bombs."

"You're so kind," I said. "Thanks, Enfi."

"It was my pleasure."

I can feel the conflict raging within him. He desperately wants to go with me to certain death, to face down the unknown perils of the Dread Woods with me. But the woods were no place for humans, nor less a boy. For decades it had been a natural deterrent from the Slaine Theocracy in the south, even before it had gained its current notoriety.

Turning away from the mirror, I stood before Enfi. I embraced him, and lead him to my room. Today is possibly my last day on this world. I was a soldier bound to my duties; and I must leave all I care for behind.

I already took Enfi's virginity a short while ago. Our lovemaking now was long, painful and bittersweet. I could almost hear his silent pleas to me to reconsider. But Enfi was never the type to openly voice his mind.

A pity. If he'd just had more courage I could have risked losing some of mine.

It was a few hours until dawn, but I was already up. I felt restless, almost excited. I left Enfi snoozing on the bed and went down to my workshop, where the accursed Jashin waited.

If there was one triumph I could salvage from this whole mess, it was that I would be taking one of my best secrets to the grave. Neither Enfi nor the city of Carne nor my instructors at Jashin "boot camp" knew about it.

I had the Divine Eye.

It was a bothersome thing for most of my life, until I learned to use it. It then became just an annoying little speck in my sight. The Divine Eye allowed me to see certain runes and numbers on objects in my sight. For example, in this very moment, I lay eyes on my Jashin armor and see a dizzying set of runes and numbers floating all around it, like a cloud of flies.

Many people died to claim a child with the Gift. It was said to be a blessing from the Supreme Beings, a way to view the world through their eyes. Luckily, I'd been precocious enough to learn all about what happened to people with the Eye. I kept my mouth firmly shut, even to my parents.

The Divine Eye could allow me to see information on things. If I were looking at Enfi, I would see his full name, see several bars representing his "health", his "mana", his "stamina" (his stamina bar only refilled itself to a quarter full-once-last night, if you know what I mean) and something called "experience level". I could see he was 100% human. I could see he had levels in various classes in a grid: he was currently an Alchemist (Genius) Level 4, Pharmacist (Genius) Level 4, Wizard Level 2 and Jashin Tech Level 1. I could see what spell he was using, or what concoction he would make, while he was doing it.

And it wasn't just limited to Enfi. I'd gauged adventurers from out of town, and seen their rank before they even announced it. I could see their overall levels, their varying classes. I could see the information on their gear, and what enchantments they had. Once, I had seen a Level 5 Thief pretend to be an honest merchant, witnessed rookie adventurers gaining a level in their classes. I could even appraise the price of whatever objects they sold.

Certain information the Eye gave was still unknown to me. Beyond one's parameters like "Strength", or "Magic", the rest of the info was useless.

According to my Eye, the modified Jashin armor had well over 800 armor. Compare that to the brigandines used by our city watch, which only had only 5, or 6. Adventurers usually came up to a hundred or more, depending on their rank. Our outer walls came in at 600 armor. An easy conclusion could be made: a blow that could shatter our city wall would not dent the Jashin.

Aside from its protective potential, the armor also had a number of other things my Eye could see. It listed the amount of modifications dear Enfi had made. All of them were additions to the inner surface of the armor, as none but a forge-priest could modify the outer shell itself. The most important ones were potion injectors, with vials already set up and ready. If ever I needed a boost to my stamina, or to give me a little drug-induced frenzy, I could just press my skin against the injector and it would activate.

When already wearing a Jashin I could not reliably use spells. And I was a perfect dud as a spellcaster. I think most Jashin users were, because it seemed difficult to cast spells from within the thick armor. The little slots on the forearms of the Jashin hid secret compartments where one could insert scrolls. I took a stack and inserted those which I needed. [Light], a couple of [Fireballs], an emergency [Message], etc.

Lastly, I began one final touch of cleaning up the armor with a special oil. I'd seen Enfi had already done that yesterday, the sweet lad, but I could not relax without doing it myself. It was more than my little ritual; after all, no matter how much I hated it, this Jashin may just become my epitaph for Lord Momonga to collect. I snorted, finding it funny to imagine his bony fingers struggling to pry my soul from the black shell, like Enfi trying to unscrew a stubbornly latched cork.

I sighed, banishing that thought. It seemed kind of unpleasant.

When I was done, daylight streamed fully from the windows, bathing the room with gold. When Enfi came down, yawning his sleep away, he yelped and covered his eyes when he saw me. I was nearly naked, a necessity for operating the Jashin.

I snorted. He'd just had me naked for hours. I tossed my last bit of underwear to the side and approached the Jashin.

"Um...! Enri!"

I paused. "What?"

A long silence. The moment passed, long and brittle. "Sounds like you've got nothing to say," I spat, then walked up to the Jashin. The fool said nothing more as he helped me get snugly fitted inside my prospective tomb.

For a brief moment I stood in sweltering, contemplative darkness. The armor was designed such that no article of clothing could be brought within, or else the spells would fail to work. The thought always amused me-inside the shells of each active Jashin was a utterly naked man or woman, sweating like a pig.

Then, the cooling spells came on, and I looked out through the Jashin's pitiless eyes.

If ever there was a weapon that was basic to the Jashin, it would be the eight-feet long chunk of iron I now swung around. Known as the Beater, the Whacker, the Slab, the simple weapon was less a sword than a long, thick, brutish club.

Yet a swing from this baby, coupled with the Jashin's enhanced strength, could send the unwary enemy Jashin flying. It could not batter the thick, reinforced armor; but the vibration from impact would most definitely break a bone or two. Against a lesser-armored soldier the club was unashamedly more brutal and decisive.

Well, that was what I heard from my instructor, of course. I'd never had to battle another Jashin. Back then I wished I didn't have to; on the day I die I still don't want to.

Using the Divine Eye I'd seen the weapon had a hefty amount of "strike power", as well as a decent amount of durability. As it was not enchanted, I saw no spells on it. Its weight was equivalent to fifteen robust work-horses.

I'd be exiting through the southern gate. While walking with Enfi towards it, practically nobody seemed to be around to see me off. But I did feel a dozen hidden gazes crawling around my body from everywhere. It didn't take my own "Eye" to sense it. It was kind of strange. Then again, the sight of a giant, hulking piece of armor, with a sword easily almost as tall strapped to its back, would be intimidating to the average folk.

The departure committee at the gates was so sparse I could have easily voiced a protest. It was only the mayor, some of his fellow flunkies, and Enfi. The rest of the city council who'd condemned me to the forest wasn't there. For a moment, I greedily thought about turning around and rampaging through the mayor's house, to find the deactivation key-and then freedom.

If Enfi had suggested it, I could've gone along readily. But he's a good boy. Kind. He was angry on my behalf, but he'd be disappointed if I went that far.

Still it wasn't as if I couldn't voice my final displeasure with the whole affair-by rudely snubbing the mayor's practiced speech, and heading out the gates. I passed by the gate guards (armor still valued a 4 each, after a quick check), then knocked my arm against the open portcullis. It made an ominous clang, which half the city surely would have heard.

"Nfirea Bareare, sir, what might you be doing?" the mayor asked. I turned to look.

"I'm coming with her," Enfi said, tightening the strap of the large travel bag on his back. I rolled my eyes. I lifted Enfi by the back of his coat, and then flung him back towards the goodbye committee.

"Goodbye, Enfi. I don't need weaklings where I'm going."

"But Enri-!"

"I think you're also misunderstanding something. I don't like you, Enfi. Never did. You're just an annoying little twerp. I had fun with your entertaining attempts to woo me, but you're not exactly my type. So just stay here, for your own sake, by the gods. Thanks for all your help, but this is goodbye."

Chuckling to myself, I left Carne without looking back.

Was it too much? Not really. I meant almost half of what I said. Things might have been different, if I'd just been an ordinary citizen of Carne, and not the heiress of an accursed Jashin. And this moment was definitely goodbye, no matter how much Enfi wished otherwise.

Down the paved road I could clearly see the forest in the distance. But it was some walking distance still. To the left and right of me were some of the crop fields belonging to brave farmers from the city. I spotted those people still working the fields there, and they stared at me as I passed them by. Some of the braver kids tried to get a closer look, but they all seemed like Enfis. No backbone.

Soon enough, the lumbering Jashin finally reached the edge of the forest. I walked past a few of the trees, and continued on into the dappled shadows of the inner forest. It was easier not to feel trepidation when I was encased in armor stronger than a castle wall.

When I was a kid, the forest hadn't been called the "Dread Forest". It had simply been the "Great Forest". There had been no awesome story attached to the forest, just the rumors of elves, and other creatures like ogres, or lizardmen, living in its depths. It was a natural deterrent for the old Kingdom of Re-Estize from southern threats, particularly the Slaine Theocracy.

Several years ago, that seemed to change. The adventurer's guild in Carne received more and more reports of irregular activity that disrupted normal work in the forest. Simple requests to hunt goblins or giant spiders ended in tragedy. Veteran groups sent to investigate never returned. A joint expedition of Union soldiers, workers, and high-rank adventurers could not even get past three miles before the commander called a retreat, speaking of "devils and demons and dark things".

Fewer adventurers came to stop by Carne, until business practically evaporated, and the hub was moved north to Rober. A skeleton crew was all that remained of our local guild, and was forbidden to handle complaints about the newly-named "Dread Forest".

I've heard not even the hardiest of criminals wanted in here. It may all just be bullshit, but a man about to be executed in the Archduchy was questioned about possible hideouts in the Forest. The guy said not even the hardasses with gallons of blood on their hands wanted to hear about going down there. Crossing the haunted Katze Plains was better than having to enter the Forest.

I experienced the eerie uneasiness for the first time when I was about an hour inside. I had no direction, just "forward", and it was then that I noticed there were no living creatures I could sense. No birds chirping, little creatures chittering, no movements in the bush-nothing. This was definitely not natural. How could the previous surviving adventurers not have mentioned this little fact? Or what about the farmers in those fields back there? They never got once to remarking, "This is a bad forest, with no one living here but the silent trees". I suppose the people of Carne, including myself would not have believed it.

As always I was ready to fight at a moment's notice. They expected me to die, but I damned sure would get to the bottom of the mystery before I'd let my body vomit my spirit out to Lord Momonga. If there were things here that a Jashin could not overcome, then the whole world was in for a rude awakening.

Though I do keep reminding myself that I'm not a warrior, just a Jashin-using woman. If I could use the Divine Eye on myself I'd probably see just "Civilian" and "Jashin User", and probably something else mundane. I wasn't expecting to be the very next hero or anything.

Movement. I immediately drew the Whacker from my back. My Divine Eye pulsed. I braced for an attack that would come.

A blur came from the right, its shape unrecognizable until I felt something latch on to my right wrist. Whatever it was held on, like a leech, as I flailed my arms up and down, until I managed to throw it off. I focused on the thing, and let my Eye do the observing.

A wolf? It certainly looked the part. But it was a larger, stranger breed of wolf than I was taught. On its feet it was taller than a horse. Its thick jaws were wide enough to swallow a man whole, and filled with razor sharp teeth, each as long as a sword. Its cruel eyes seemed to stare deep into my soul, as if possessing its own Divine Eye.

Could it be one of those dire wolves I heard about? Against enemies-or things I had not observed for long-my Eye was slow with gathering information. I could see its health first. Other aspects came, like its name, but it was an unknown. Level: unknown. Parameters: unknown. Everything else seemed an unknown.

"Fuck me!" I roared, swinging my Beater menacingly. The huge beast growled, its eyes now regarding the twirling weapon. I leaped forward and swung downward. But it jumped back.

The wolf charged forward like a rocket. Before I could raise my weapon it was on me, clawing at my armor while its jaws clamped around my helm. The Jashin could filter out smells, but not all, and the inside of its mouth stank to high heaven.

"Get... the... fuck... off!" I managed to force the wolf's mouth away before I flung it with all the force I could muster to the side. Breathing deeply, I scrambled for my fallen Whacker before I swung in a wide arc behind me. I was satisfied to hear it collide with a bone-crunching smash against the wolf. It went flying back with a pained howl, slamming against a far tree.

Briefly winded, I leaned on the Beater. That wolf was no ordinary beast. It had taken an effort to wrestle it off her. It had only been knocked away by the Beater, and not hideously eviscerated. This was a dragon-like threat.

"...No wonder the forest is all silent," I remark. If this thing was here at the very depths it would explain a lot.

The wolf rolled to its feet, its eyes furious and hateful. It was strange: either it was a quirk of my Eye or something, but I could almost read the creature's emotions. It seemed wary and confused, more than it had been at the start. It sniffed at me.

"C'mon you," I said, hefting the sword. "Want to get some more? I'll give it to you."

The wolf snarled. I expected it to attack, but instead it cocked its head. A moment later, it bounded off to the side, and disappeared into the bush. I stood there for a good long moment, my weapon raised, but the wolf never did reappear. Cautiously I checked out the direction it went, and saw no sign of my enemy.

I slumped to the ground in frustration. My adrenaline leaked out of me slowly like liquid pouring through Enfi's sieve. It was a good thing I'd been conditioned by Jashin training not to piss myself in fear at the first onset of combat. That would've been quite horrifying to experience, being trapped inside with my own piss.

There was practically no place for waste to go in this armor, unless one were to open it. That meant me having to go all the way back to Carne to beg the mayor to let me out of my stinking armor.

Remembering where I was, I got up and started to head in the same direction as where I thought the wolf would go. That thing seemed to be the source of the mystery in this forest; if not, then it would lead me to the real truth.

It seemed I was on the right track, at least. The forest grew denser, the trees growing ever closer to each other. At the same time I could definitely feel like eyes were on me. Fine then. The wolf was not the source, but was connected to it, at least.

I was prepared to find anything at the heart of it. A dark, forbidding cave, or a clearing filled with strange creatures-even a dragon. But what I wasn't prepared to see was the graveyard.

"What the-?" The forest suddenly terminated in a large, ornate staircase, which led up to an eerie-looking graveyard. Countless mausoleums, statues, and epitaphs littered the area towards the back. Stepping forward cautiously, I saw that it was no crumbling, haunted ruin.

The place seemed clean, almost sterile. In fact, it almost seemed better kept than Carne's own graveyard. Still, the fact that this thing existed within the forest obviously meant something.

Could that wolf really have gone here, I wondered. Maybe it went someplace else. It was hard to imagine that thing making its home in these ruins-unless, I thought with a blanch, that was actually some sort of demon wolf I'd fought. I suppressed the shiver that came over me, and ascended the stairs.

The graveyard area proper was as hauntingly silent as the forest that preceded it. I took care to walk slowly, cautious for traps. After all, I'm just a stupid, uneducated civilian with barely any experience with nearly half the things copper-ranked adventurers dealt with routinely. I only had the Jashin to help me survive the unexpected. I walked forward one step at a time, my Eye constantly alert for anything.

After a while, the silence became unbearable. Also, the feeling of being watched seemed to triple. Something, or many things, were definitely here. "Oh, by the gods if you're here, then show yourselves already!" I called, holding out my Beater like a talisman.

Then, there came the sound of clattering, like stones clacking against each other.

It wasn't my first time seeing the dusty dead rising in a huge clatter to strike. It was standard for young Jashin inheritors, the raw recruits who'd only worn their armors for the first time, to have to face undead. Skeletons, for example, like the ones now rising from their earthen graves before me, were common "first enemies".

I guess they figured the shock value of seeing undead move for the first time would make oneself develop a resistance to being shocked by other, unnatural things. Though Jashin users were not expected to fight exotic monsters, like adventurers, enemy countries could be known to field bizarre troops from time to time. An undead ogre, for example, was a decent shocktrooper in a battle, and if a Jashin were not sufficiently experienced, they wouldn't be able to attack.

Also, skeletons were common occurrences in the world, arising from accumulated negative energies almost everywhere. Cheap fodder, in other words. Those who did not or refused to pay the Cult of Zuranon had infamously dreadful graveyards teeming with the things every day, like maggots swarming over a corpse.

Carne had invested in Zuranon's upkeep of Lord Momonga's shrine at the center of our graveyard, but owing to our declining fortunes, we'd let payments lapse. I was responsible for skeleton cleanup every couple of months or so.

Now these skeletons at the moment formed a veritable army. But, my Eye could not see anything particularly dangerous about them, or the rusted weapons they wielded.

"Shaaa!"

After shouting that inelegant battlecry I charged forward, my fear as my shield. I might just easily die from some crummy skeletons, but I didn't care.

It felt real good smashing them up into little pieces. It was exactly like de-weeding a garden, except not as back-breaking. The Beater made good work annihilating them, too fast for my Eye to keep up.

I felt the hairs at the back of my neck rise. I stopped, still high from all the adrenaline, to see new skeletal forms appearing in the distance.

"Oh."

Sometimes one just didn't need experience to know something bad was up. One didn't need to compare the new skeletons' look, their weapons, their armor; to the skeletons I'd just been dusting, to know the former was bad news. It was like suddenly seeing an armored soldier just march into your vision, when you didn't expect it.

Quickly, I flicked the flap on my wrist open. I drew the scroll within, then activated the magic writ on it.

"[Fireball]!"

The bright red magic slammed against the new skeletons. Though their fellow was engulfed, the others moved forward, implacable.

Then, a moment later, the fire faded, and my target walked forward, looking none the worse for wear.

I clucked my tongue. So, all of my magic was out of the question. Though cautious, I saw no other means but to charge forward still. Which I did.

One particular skeleton with a shield as large as its body was blown away, though its shield looked like it had only taken minor damage. I leaped up and slammed my feet onto the shield, crushing the skeleton underneath.

I turned and clashed my Beater against the sword of another, before I slammed my fist against its head, crushing it instantly. So it seemed the Jashin was still useful. I grabbed the fallen creature's sword before it could clatter to the ground, after then hurling it at another.

It was harsh, messy work. The skeletons were more skilled as warriors than I was, and I was only saved from being skewered or shot by the Jashin. Slowly but surely I carved my way into their ranks, using my fists mostly to bash skulls in.

My Eye gave an estimation of their levels: Level 30. I could almost laugh hysterically at that. Me, going up against level 30 monsters?

My body felt bruised and worn, as the repeated impact of their weapons on the armor had taken effect. Feeling winded, but triumphant, I grabbed hold of a spine and slammed like a whip it against the last skeleton, shattering both skulls instantly.

"Gah!" I had to use Enfi's potions now. I was on the brink of exhaustion. The things had been too strong. A better trained Jashin soldier could have breezed through without much effort, but I was only a civilian.

A civilian fated to die.

A soft snicker interrupted my gloomy thoughts.

"What the-"

I caught a glimpse of an armored figure standing mere feet from me before I scrambled back, on Jashin-powered feet, landing a distance away. I looked up, and saw the mysterious figure already standing there, close to me, having moved just as quickly.

"By the gods!" I yelled, raising the Beater before me. I glared at the thing, literally pushing my Eye to give me an idea of this new thing. Its armor was completely red, almost rose-colored. The dim surroundings shrouded the face in its open-slitted helm.

On second inspection, the armored figure seemed far shorter than I was. But it didn't seem any less oppressive in presence. It was like walking near an adamantatite-ranked adventurer-it was like being in the presence of the Supreme Beings.

"Hey," I said. "I'm not looking for trouble." That was kind of a lie, but the other one didn't need to know that. "What is this place?"

Only a muffled giggle was the reply. I clenched my fist around the handle of my Beater.

"Haah!" I struck hard and quick. But the warrior seemed like wind, always one step away from my attack. After making another loud giggle, the warrior lashed out, knocking the Beater from my hands.

I was lucky enough to raise my hands in defense, and ended up locking my palms against my foe's. I gasped at the sheer strength belying its diminutive size. I could feel my muscles straining at the powerful force that struggled against me, something that I've never felt before. I gritted my teeth; dug in my heels.

Despite my struggle, I almost laughed in my turn. The situation reminded me of something from my childhood. I used to wrestle Enfi like this when I was just a kid, and I won nearly in all bouts. I don't really know if he just let me win because even back then he already had a crush on me.

I laugh, because there was one time I got really pissed with Enfi that I went ahead and broke his nose. And I did that by smashing my head right in his stupid face.

I laugh, because that's exactly what I do. I rear back a little, then smash the Jashin's black helmet against the giggling warrior's.

I laugh, again, when the smaller warrior gets blown back, its head literally snapping backwards from the force of impact. Its body tumbles backward helplessly, like a puppet thrown carelessly to the side.

"Haah... Haahh... How'd you like that?" I asked weakly, my knees trembling from the strain. My feeling of triumph was diminished by the fact that I finally realized I was in way over my head. My Eye could definitely see a number of unknown enchantments-on just one piece of that thing's armor. Every piece of its armor was filled to the brim with magical effects too advanced for me to comprehend. I hadn't seen such an amount-not even on adventurers.

An awful screech answered me. The fallen warrior pushed itself upwards, as if it were being raised by invisible strings. It continued to make such awful sounds, before pouncing on me like the wolf had.

It was like fending off a rabid animal. The warrior would strike, quick as lightning, pounding against the Jashin's armor repeatedly until I threw it off. That didn't last long as it would pounce again, giving me no time to rest.

"Get...off...whoa!" In my struggle, I slipped, falling to the ground with an almighty crash. Then, it punched the helmet, sending my head crashing against the inside. Stars bloomed in my vision as the impact of the blow left me woozy.

Yet the enemy was relentless, now pounding its fists against my unprotected chest, while all I could do was lie there and do my best to weather the storm. When I rallied myself, I raised my arms to seize its body, but the warrior lashed out, slamming into the helmet and making my head spin once again.

Its fingers found the hinge that opened up the Jashin from the front. It scrabbled at that part, clawing and smashing until I could almost feel the armor give way, followed by the screeching sound of something metallic being forced apart. I could feel the slight instance of the outside air coming in through the small hole it made.

"Found the weak spot!" the warrior said. It sounded like a child, somehow. I blinked, and raised my head. My jaw dropped down when I saw that it now held a long, cruel-looking lance. I moved to rise, but the thing lifted me by the head before throwing me through the air, my back slamming against something hard.

The pain was much too unbearable now. The Jashin had done its best, but it had also helped turn its occupant into liquid mush. I could only lie there, my body stinging and ringing from the lopsided battle.

It was obvious even to me that I was about to have an appointment soon with jolly Lord Momonga. No matter how much I could struggle, I could not hope to best this enemy. I was just a rookie; no, I wasn't even that. Just a poor girl who'd inherited one of the worst things in this stupid world.

The warrior dipped its lance forward, the tip pointed straight at me. There was no mistaking that lethal intent.

I could feel the corners of my eyes darkening. Momonga's black cloak, I thought to myself. It was the superstition that this was the last thing anyone saw before death.

I closed my eyes.

Moments passed. I could still hear the harsh sounds of my breath within my black tomb.

I opened my eyes. Had something happened?

I saw quite a sight before me. Standing next to the armored figure, who now kneeled on the ground, surrounded by something like tree roots, were several figures. The strangest part of it was that each of them looked markedly different from the other.

There was a figure with bat wings sprouting from his back, dressed in strange clothes. There were a couple of young, dark-skinned children. Some distance behind them were a group of people wearing something like maid clothes.

"Really now, Shalltear, you were supposed to only test the armor's capabilities," came a smooth, sophisticated voice.

"I don't-I shouldn't-Damnation! Get these roots out of- Kuh! Fine. I merely wished for a sip."

"You're really dumb, aintcha?" asked another unfamiliar voice.

"What was that?"

"And did you forget exactly who was inside?" said the first voice.

"I-I-of course not! I'm not stupid!"

"Yet you very nearly killed them." There came the sound of feet crunching against the ground. The stranger in the elegant suit approached.

"Wh-who are you?" I said weakly, trying to struggle to get back on my feet.

The footsteps stopped. "Ah, my apologies, agent. Allow me to undo the binds on your mind.

"[Green]."

"Gah!"

Images filled my mind, so many that it made my head throb, made it feel like it would burst-

"This, then, is your mission..."

"...only one who can do this..."

"...avenge Sebas' failure..."

"[Twist]."

"Hurk!"

Pieces fell into place. I writhed under the weight of everything, as if the whole world crashed down on my head.

"...difficult to infiltrate..."

"This new armor, will be..."

"...wish you all the luck, and may the Supreme Beings..."

"[Seven-seven-five]."

I see.

I was. I am. I AM!

"[Glory to Ainz Ooal Gown]."

Nighttime. The girl doesn't scream. But she did drop her tools making such a loud clatter, and that's bad.

You hide in the darkness, your very essence clamped down on the girl's, absorbing her mind, her memories, her form, everything that encompassed her.

"Enri? Are you there? I thought I heard something. Enri?"

In the darkness, things get squashed and mixed, like cookie dough. Frantic.

The sound draws the boy.

"Enri? Are you there? Please say something...!"

Lamp. Discovery. Failure?

No.

I rose, and turned to smile at my childhood friend [Nfirea Bareare]. "Hey there, Enfi. I-I was just checking something in here."

"Oh, right. You know, for a minute there, I thought I heard you scream."

"Perhaps it's your imagination?"

"...Maybe there was a rat and you did?"

"Oh, shut it, you-"

The mists have been drawn from my mind. I rose from within the "tomb" of the Jashin, and knelt before the Floor Guardians of Nazarick that have gathered.

"I bid you greetings, my lords," I said, in my other, truer voice. "This agent has returned successfully. Glory to the Supreme Beings!"

That's right. I remember now. I am grateful for recalling it.

I was not Enri Emmot, citizen of Carne City, and heiress to the legacy of a Jashin armor.

I was an agent of the Supreme Beings, servant in the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

And lo on my welcome rebirth do I say with renewed conviction: Glory to Ainz Ooal Gown!

"There was once a man named Zuran. He was a necromancer. When they caught him practicing his wicked ways, they punished him according to the practice of their time: they cut off his vile hands and tongue, carved out his eyes, then flung him into the deepest dungeons below a holy temple, from where he could not raise his dead.
One day the Supreme Momonga came to that prison, and said to the necromancers buried therein: 'My Boon we shall give you, my Champion I shall make you, if you answer correctly. How shall you serve us, if we free you here?'
The first necromancer said, 'I will unite the lands and forge the Empire anew. I will spread your name far and wide, that the people shall fear Momonga, greatest of all Supreme.'
'Glory is a mortal, fleeting thing, and you shall choke on it for the rest of your days,' Momonga replied. And so he took the necromancer's heart, that his pride would no longer torment him.
Then the second necromancer said, 'I shall accumulate knowledge, with your blessing, and become the strongest, wisest magic caster of all. I shall raise temples and spread your wisdom through all the lands.'
'Fool that you are!' Momonga said, 'To imply that we shall ever be forgotten!' And so he took the necromancer's heart, that his idiocy would not spread throughout the lands.
Finally, Zuran spoke, 'I ask only, blessed Momonga, to tend to the glorious Garden that you have created. Let me be Your instrument. To bring Your embrace to those that deserve it, to nurture life in those that need it. The people shall forever remember you, my lord, not for conquered lands or raised temples, but for the perfectly arranged world You have envisioned for us all: the beautiful Ainz Ooal Gown.'
Pleased by the answer, Momonga raised Zuran to be the first of the Faithful, and gave him a glimpse of the secrets of Life and Death. He made his body whole and healthy, and charged it with immortality: that for as long as His Garden exists, so shall Zuran continue to maintain it."
-from the Chronicles of the Forty-One Faithful