20 Premonitions
"The Elothris Coalition must be stopped! Their greed and recklessness will bring ruin to this Alliance!"
A loud bang echoed throughout the room as the large fist of a fuming orc slammed onto the round stone table.
A dozen figures of all shapes and sizes stirred in their seats upon the sudden outburst, but none immediately moved to protest the orc's angry words. A few of the seated individuals had expressions that burned with a similar outrage, but the majority's eyes were dull with the lightless color of resignation.
The human Quartermaster of the Military Quarter, Randell Forris, was in the latter party. The neurotic nature of his thin lips and unfocused gaze gave the impression of someone who had long grown accustomed to bleak circumstances.
"Calm down, Kazer." he finally said in a tired voice to the furious orc. "We cannot afford to act rashly when the Connelier is just around the corner."
Kazer scowled at Randell's words, the large tusks beneath his boar-like snout jutting out even further as the corners of his mouth twisted in disdain.
"The Elothris Coalition has been expanding their territorial holdings with impunity. All of the forces we've sent to prematurely halt their encroachment have disappeared without a trace. Not to mention their forays into the forbidden lands; some of the centaur tribes of the Eastern Plains have been subjugated and now provide tribute to their new masters."
"If left unchecked, their ambition will draw the attention of the Trolls and the Minotaurs of the Far East. Those fools still think that Karnassus deserves to rule over the City-State Alliance-there is no telling how far they will go. Their actions already prove that they no longer respect the tradition of the tournaments. We must take decisive action."
Another voice rang out from right across Randell's position at the round table.
"We don't have enough information. For the past several decades, the Elothris Coalition has demonstrated an almost impenetrable network of counter-intelligence. The source of their uncanny ability to leave no survivors and the reason behind the efficiency of their lightning-fast assaults are completely unknown to us."
The speaker was an elven woman draped in a mottled green cloak. Randell recognised her as the head of the Venerian Ranger Corps: Namys Xillen. Her dark green eyes glinted with a razor sharp acuity as she spoke.
"What type of action would we even take?" she continued, "The three Coalitions exist for a reason. If we move against the Elothris Coalition, the Kabelia Coalition will almost certainly be waiting to pounce in the aftermath of our struggle. We teeter upon a delicate balance of power, and we have kept bloodshed to the minimum through the Connelier. To deviate from our system of non-confrontation would be to shatter our peace and invite chaos into this land."
Randell nodded his head. "Namys is right, counter-aggression is not a feasible option for us right now. I hear your concerns, I do, but let us wait until after the Connelier is over. The preparations for the tournament are too important to be disrupted."
Kazer sat back in his seat, but the fierce conviction in his eyes did not falter upon the harsh reality of Namys and Randell's words.
"There is....one final option." Kazer responded after a moments' pause, his voice cold and grim. "The Cult's hand of assistance remains outstretched. If it is a question of letting the Elothris Coalition walk all over us and cooperating with them..."
Several members of the council recoiled in naked disgust upon the Bafolk's suggestion.
"Preposterous." hissed a snakeman seated near him. "We barely know anything about this...Deathless. It is foolish to flirt with powers we do not yet understand."
"It is even more foolish to do nothing." countered Kazer, his voice like iron. "I will respect the city of Oaknys by waiting until after the Connelier to make my decision. However, If the Elothris Coalition continues with their insolence...as Grand Chieftain of New Orcneas, I will take matters into my own hands."
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Within a moss-filled grotto on the outskirts of the city, the Oracle of Oaknys meditated upon a podium of coiled branches.
Her appearance resembled that of an anthropomorphic sheep, with two small bulbs of horn jutting out atop her wool-covered head. The being's short, squat humanoid body was wrapped in a piece of brown cloth too large for her size, the extra length of fabric pooling in a makeshift tarp around her body.
Upon the cavern ceiling far above her, twinkling orbs of light swam in the air like sentient stars. They bathed the cavern in a magical luminescence, and under their mystical glow, the Oracle listened to the countless whispers emanating from the mysterious lights.
The lights were the ancient Wisps of Oaknys, ethereal spirits that had watched over the surrounding lands for millenia. Normally, the average humanoid or demihuman would not be able to make sense of their "words," hearing naught but an unintelligible buzzing.
But the Oracle was no average being. Within her blood manifested a unique talent, one that allowed her to tap into the infinite whispers of the Wisps. Occasionally, she would glean slivers of knowledge, premonitions of events yet to pass. They would tell her of disturbances in the woods and the rivers, and she would communicate their worries to the city-dwellers, allowing them to take care of any potential regional threats before things spiralled out of hand.
Over time, this relationship became a custom within the city of Oaknys, and the mouthpiece of the Wisps had since occupied an invaluable position within the city. She had long forgotten her original name. Now, she was simply the Oracle.
She opened her eyes, revealing a pair of pupils that shone like reflective mirrors. The corners of her mouth creased down into a slight frown as she considered what had happened that morning.
The wisps had exploded with a fervent energy, the volume of their whispers escalating to a deafening peak. The sound was so unbearable that the Oracle had been forced to cover her pointed ears. Furthermore, the words of the Wisps changed into something completely incoherent, their meaning unintelligible even to the Oracle.
The extreme noise eventually subsided, and the sound and coherency of the Wisps eventually reverted back to something that more resembled what the Oracle was used to. However, something was still amiss.
The whispers grew dark and secretive, weaving words that sounded more like cryptic riddles than the vibrant wisdom the Oracle so dearly relied on.
In spite of this, the Oracle managed to identify a general premise from their veiled message: a Great Evil had descended upon the forested hills not far from Oaknys.
And so she sought the assistance of the Military Quarter. A group of Chosen were dispatched to investigate the site of the unholy presence that had so disturbed the serenity of the Wisps.
It should be a matter of time before they return….
The Oracle's eyes locked onto a hole on the cave wall some distance away from her, which led to a pathway through which her visitors could enter into her natural abode.
She waited and waited, until finally, the silhouettes of the team of four that had headed out on their quest that morning loomed into sight.
But that was not all. Her eyes squinted to confirm a fifth figure following behind them, an imposing presence sheathed in cold, black steel.
The group's leader-a human female-came before her and began to speak:
"Greetings again, Esteemed Oracle. We have returned from our investigations. A powerful undead creature known as a Death Knight was encountered around the location you indicated to us this morning. The monster has been neutralised with the help of our new acquaintance, Momon."
The human woman gestured towards the black armored individual beside her.
The Oracle nodded her head to express that she had heeded the human's words, but did not immediately respond.
<Death Knight.>
The Oracle had heard the Wisps speak of such a monster before. From what she knew, it was an undead being of great power, one that appeared every so often in this world to wreak pain and suffering to all in its vicinity.
Perhaps that was the presence the Wisps had sensed in the forest? The location and timing made sense, yet the Oracle could not help but wonder if such a monster alone sufficed to shock the spirits into such harrowed behavior.
Suddenly, her ears twitched as she suddenly realised that something was terribly wrong.
The Oracle gazed up to stare at the lights above, at the spirits she had dedicated her life to representing. The Wisps had stopped moving, and their lights had dimmed so much that they were now almost invisible to the naked eye. But most alarming of all…
Their whispers had ceased completely.
A dreadful silence hung about the grotto, something that the Oracle had never once encountered in her long life of interacting with the Wisps.
Their whispers were her Truth, a ceaseless existence that knew no pause or rest.
But for whatever reason, they had stopped.
She gazed at the five of her visitors. None of them seemed to have noticed or cared; all they probably felt was the absence of the usual buzzing and the dimming of the light, not knowing the significance behind the phenomena.
The Oracle's glassy eyes hovered over the newcomer, Momon, in particular. From head to toe, not a single inch of flesh was visible, his body completely covered with plate armor as dark as the night.
She tried to peer through his visor to glimpse whatever lay beneath, but all she could see was a pitch darkness.
If the Death Knight was so powerful, surely the one who had assisted in its defeat was also an individual of great power? And yet, she could sense nothing from the armored warrior, as if that mysterious suit of plate consumed any and all attempts to scrutinise its wearer.
A morbid curiosity gripped the Oracle, and she felt the mounting urge to ask "Momon" to reveal his face and background.
However, just as she was about to phrase her request, she sensed a faint presence tugging at her mentally from above. She looked up to see the light of one of the wisps flaring again in full radiance. This time, however, it shimmered with a color she had never seen them use before: an eerie light of pure crimson. As she stared at the light, an extreme sense of danger washed over her, and she hurriedly swallowed the previous words that were on the verge of leaving her lips.
"I see. That will be all for now." the Oracle replied instead, doing her best to maintain a calm composure. "You may leave to inform the Quartermaster that the threat has been neutralised. I will call upon your people again if another situation emerges."
The group of five bowed before heading back out of the grotto. However, just as the imposing silhouette of Momon reached the mouth of the cave, the Oracle could see him pause for a brief moment to look back behind his shoulder.
A mysterious glint of red flashed for a fraction of a second from the side of the warrior's helm, before he too disappeared into the distance.
The Oracle continued to sit quietly in the grotto. After several seconds, the Wisps finally stirred from their seeming stupor to swim about the air once more, their lights flickering back to their full, luminescent bloom.
And yet, their voices still did not return. The suffocating silence continued.
The Oracle finally could not wait any longer. She raised her head and looked up at the cavern ceiling, reaching out with both her hands in a gesture of utmost respect as she asked: "O' Great Wisps of Old, I have heeded your warning, but I know not what it entails. Why do you remain quiet? What lies beneath that armored guise?"
Her question was met with no immediate response. The eerily quiet atmosphere stretched on, until finally, a single voice spoke to the Oracle from above.
Seven words echoed in the Oracle's mind, words that would be carved into her memory for the rest of her life.
"Gaze not upon the face of Death."
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Afterword:
There have been some questions I've received and some I wish to address prematurely in an official capacity, so here they are:
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Q: Classic Ainz/Momon again? That's boring! It's a fanfic so not why go with something more original?
A: Look, my fic inevitably has to take some liberties with the canon mechanics and plot, but there are some lines I do not wish to cross. Revamping the power system and Yggdrasil mechanics of Canon is one of those lines.
I considered many alternative avenues. I considered having Ainz come back as a cursed item and have someone pick it up and unwittingly release slivers of the Overlord's soul one by one. I considered having him return as a level 10 skeleton mage and slowly regain his job and racial levels back by killing people. I considered having him return as a spectre and gradually reconsolidate his power at the edges of civilisation. I considered him adopting a mage alias where he uses an illusion spell to appear human. I considered many things, but I concluded that none of these could be justified whatsoever using canonical mechanics. So I went with the classic Overlord route.
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Q: You do realise Zesshi is not actually named Zesshi, right?
I am aware of that, and this is actually something I'll have to ask everyone to bear with. Zesshi's real name will likely be revealed in Vol 15. When this happens, I will probably edit out her name with whatever Maruyama reveals to us. Kind of a shame tbh, I love the "name" Zesshi Zetsumei.
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Q: Who were the people at the beginning of Chapter 6? Who was the person Renner was speaking to?
A: The Ch. 6 scene was Pandora's Actor requesting Avarice and Generosity from the elf twins. Renner was conversing with Pandora's Actor in her scene as well.
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Q: Why did the elf twins seem guarded against PA's request? Wouldn't they jump at the prospect of Ainz's resurrection?
A: They were guarded for the same reason Pandora avoided letting Demiurge in on the plan. The "singular truth" that PA alluded to during his conversation with Renner is the fact that Ainz is not all-knowing, nor is he immune to making mistakes. Demiurge and the twins fall under the assumption that Ainz would have returned if he could, and that his silence indicates the impossibility of his return.
This is hinted at with Demiurge's reaction to the Staff's activity. Demiurge shows excitement and considers the possibility of Ainz returning, but does not actually make any move on the Staff: he expects Ainz to return through the Overlord's own power and resourcefulness. This is in stark contrast to how he acted before Ainz's duel with Shalltear, when he was overtly concerned with Ainz's well-being and doubted the wisdom of Ainz's actions.
The subsequent change in Demiurge's attitude after Ainz's victory over the Vampire has cemented a crucial misunderstanding, one that Pandora does not wish to risk interfering with. PA understands that his Father needs help, and that he has to take the initiative to save Ainz rather than bide time until the big Sasuga moment.
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Q: Why could PA move when the other floor guardians couldn't?
A: During Demiurge's exposition about the current status of the NPCs, he stated that all the floor guardians outside of the Tomb seemed to have entered into a stationary guard status. He also mentions that the lower level NPCs outside of the Tomb were operating normally, besides the amnesiac Pleiades. PA is an area guardian, not a floor guardian, so his status would simply be unknown.
