253 Chapter 253

"That is what he said." Baron Valdati said to his fellow nobles. The greatest men and women of the Baharuth Empire were gathered around a council table, none of them looked down when they heard the words The Allfather passed to them through their chosen emissary. The reason none looked down was to avoid seeing their careworn faces, a few wanted to avoid seeing the continued whitening of their hair, or the patches on their heads where it was starting to fall out. The lines on their faces, the crows feet at their eyes, and their own fear reflected back at them. The fine council table was a constant cause for torment.

"To the strongest… it does make a peculiar kind of sense, doesn't it?" Duke Habastria said while she fanned her face in a failing attempt to stifle the heat of her body in the midst of the worst stress of her life. Her white and gold clothing hung loose around her body and her limbs alike, the tassels on the arms waved like leaves in the storm while she desperately waved her hand near her face.

"It does." Count Avastrim remarked, "The legions are diminished, but still formidable, at least compared to most of our neighbors… The late Bloody Emperor built them well at least. With his children gone, there's nobody to prop up from the Royal Family even as a figurehead… so either we settle things the old way, or the Empire ceases to exist."

"Then let's do it, now, before we're invaded and everybody is too invested in fighting with armies to take a chance on champions!" Viscount Castelash insisted, his jowls flapping as he rushed out his insistence in an almost piggish squeal of fear.

General Shanash chimed in the moment the Viscount finished his urging, "I can vouch for the remaining legions, they are desperate for strength, and nobody wants to fight a civil war and a multipronged invasion, if you will the Empire 'To the Strongest', then they will swear their oath to the victor. But I would strongly advise that we limit that to combat strength alone, no magic. The Empire is still a martial place, and after the last dealings with magic, and the fact that Fluder abandoned us, nobody will trust a simple caster."

There was a general rumbling of agreement, and within the hour, the draft of the document was made and signed by all members of the council, with copies made and dispatched to every corner of the empire… and beyond.

'To the strongest… What a brilliant suggestion…' The General considered, reflecting on the advice of their dreadful neighbor, and was forced to conclude, 'Only the wisest could have divined such an ornate way of avoiding war while forging an alliance that would more easily secure the peace thereafter…' It was almost enough to let his aging heart stop the frantic beating that consumed him for months, and let the wrinkled old general sleep soundly for the first time in a long time.

Brain Unglaus stood triumphant in the small arena of Tovijar, the capital city of the Kingdom of Demalbion. It wasn't much, barely more than boards in a ring with crude chairs and raised benches, but beyond the little space stone structures, the building blocks of a much larger and majestic one were starting to rise in the distance. In a few years it would rival Arwintar, but for now this was enough for him. His katana raised high overhead, the stone spitter lay prone on his back, defeated like the rest.

In the stands, in what passed for the royal box, the Queen of Frost was politely applauding his victory. Brain grinned and took a bow, stepping back from the broken opponent.

'Leaving those idiots was the best thing I ever did.' He reflected when the crowd of both demi-humans, elves and even a few humans cheered him on, the bandits he once led were now almost certainly dead, having failed to detect the change in the winds of power giving rise to the new Wolf Queen and King of Carne, or the ascendance of Crimson Queen Renner.

Now, thanks to his foresight… he grinned and snatched a coin out of the air which was thrown from the Queen's own box. 'I'm getting rich, and I get to do what I love to do best…' He thought and made another deep bow to the dragonid Queen, Neia Baraja.

Demalbion was a shockingly cosmopolitan place, with former prisoners of war from the Roble Holy Kingdom having accepted offers of farmland of their own as opposed to lives as mere serfs working somebody else's property… but also demihumans of races Brain never heard of, and elves who traveled freely about the region without so much as a care. 'A naked virgin could walk from town to town with a bag of gold in each hand and arrive in safety.' That was the Queen's boast, and it was steadily proving true, with everyone prone to violence either brought into the national army, turned into a gladiator… or killed by the former two groups.

The applause began to die as the Queen stood, her wings opened wide at her back, the universal call for silence, while a herald stood at her side.

"Let it be proclaimed on this day, that one year hence there will be a tournament in the grand arena of Arwintar. The prize, rulership of the Empire itself! The throne of the Bloody Emperor shall pass to the strongest, be they man, woman, demi-human, or even heteromorph… the legions shall obey. All nations and peoples are invited to bring their champions. All those of ambition are invited to go and fight for themselves. Let the strongest rule, and all the rest of the world, follow."

Consternation went up in an instant, demihumans, elves, and humans set to gossiping and jabbering, but the blue haired Brain Unglaus only heard one thing.

'I could… finally… 'finally' prove myself to be the very best to ever carry a sword… How could I say no to that? Empire… a throne… that's nothing… nothing compared to this!' He sheathed his blade and began to shout with childlike glee.

Nor was he the only one, at his back, gladiators waiting for their turn to fight for the praise of the crowd were cheering as well, and the Queen snapped her wings in and out once, creating a noise like the crack of a whip.

"Further games are cancelled… warriors and gladiators… you have training to get to… a throne awaits, and a story your children will tell long after you are gone, whether they're in a palace or not. Go… go and have your dreams!" Her wings cracked like a whip again, and the cheers redoubled as the Queen of Frost gave her permission to all the big dreamers to follow their desires to whatever end they were carried toward.

Queen Calca lay on her back in the royal bed, her hair, once golden blonde, was now white as an old woman's, though the rest of her body didn't match, she still moved very little. The cause was suckling at her breast, the son of the Allfather, dark of hair, and with a powerful wail when the little wiggling child was displeased, he was the spit and image of both his parents.

"So that's their solution is it?" Calca asked, her voice sounded weary, still weak despite so much time having passed, Kelart put a sympathizing hand on the shoulder of her lover.

"It is, and a good one I think." Kelart acknowledged, "I wish it waited a good twenty years though, I think Aurelion here might be able to win it when he gets older." She didn't laugh, it wasn't a joke.

Birthing the boy had nearly killed the Queen, leaving her in a coma for months from which no magic could awaken her, and when she did, most of her skill with magic as well as most of her body's strength was lost. Even now, she was only slowly regaining what was hers, as if she'd died and then resurrected.

It was for that reason that Kelart's hand lingered longer on the arm of her lover than was truly proper, even alone, as they were conducting the business of ruling the Holy Kingdom.

"Perhaps he could…" Calca said, caressing the top of the boy's head and cooing down at him. "But I pray he never has to take such a risk… still, what will we do?"

Kelart knew what the Queen was asking. What was her husband planning to do, and to that end, Kelart pulled out a document, a letter from the Allfather. "Your husband states his intention to provide a champion of his Kingdom… and to also attend the event in his capacity as the head of state. He invites you to join him and bring the Crown Prince."

A smile formed on the Queen's face, the little corners of her mouth rising like the sun on a spring day.

"Calca… I know that look. You know you can't bear another… it would kill you…" Kelart said, and the Queen shook her head and said...

"I know, my love, I know. But it will be nice to see him again… to see him hold our son again. I am still permitted sentiment as a Queen, and I admit I'm also a little curious. I've never met the woman he loves, I sometimes wonder about that, what is she like, is she pretty? Is she charming? Witty? I can't help but envy her a little, though I hope that one day, if they have children, that our heirs won't be at odds with one another."

"We can only hope, Your Majesty." Kelart advised and held her arms out to accept the baby. He'd ceased to suckle and begun to nap in his mother's arms. Calca let him go only with reluctance, and waited for the slender brown haired magic caster to join the Queen in the royal bed after laying him down to sleep. "We have a little time before the rest of the castle is awake…"

"Then let's not waste it…" The Queen whispered and blew out the candle, opening her arms to receive her lover again.

Keeno was pressed up against Momon as close as she could be without sewing her skin to his, while she normally would use the excuse that the guild hall was crowded, today it wasn't. So she just said nothing and pressed herself against him while Gagaran and Lupu continued to talk shit and slam back to back beers.

"Face facts, red. You may be top heavy, but that's it, you can't keep up with me!" Gagaran grinned in her oafish way, showing off all her teeth and vigorously wiping beer foam from her lips before slamming her tankard down.

"You say that, virgin, but I was born loving the brew, while you only adopted it. Besides, I spend time drinking while you try to seduce virgin adventurer boys, I'm more experienced!" Lupusregina quipped back. The nickname of 'red' suited the redheaded cleric who partnered with Lord Momon, given that the strands of fiery red hung in two braids that went far down her back, and yet despite what should have been a liability in battle, only Keeno was able to give the cleric a run for her money.

Lakyus and the twins sat drinking quietly while watching the battle of booze and wits between the two adventurers while discreetly ignoring the way Keeno kept touching Momon, above the table, and they suspected 'beneath it'.

"We're going to attend the tournament, Lord Momon." Keeno said, then asked with a mooning gaze up into his deep set eyes, "Are you going to participate?"

"Possibly. At the very least I plan to attend. How could I not?!" Momon made a grandiose dramatic gesture, waving a hand out toward the ceiling, "To see such a show is a chance that comes not once every hundred years!"

Pandora's Actor played the role to the hilt, and his chief audience, Keeno, ate it up. "Why don't we all go together, you don't have to decide if you want to compete or not until the last day, and then you'll already be there after you get a chance to scout out the competition." Keeno suggested, batting her eyes up at her idol. "The journey would be more comfortable together…" She said and tried to make her voice at least a little bit seductive.

"Y-Yes, of course." Pandora's Actor answered, the sudden question and open invitation to more was the most blatant of the little vampire's acts of 'affection'.

He readjusted himself a little, and the vampire beamed up at him with bright eyes that he knew lay behind her mask. She could hide nothing from him, and nothing from the intelligence gathering abilities of Nazarick who plumbed the depths of her past at his urging.

Pandora's Actor's mind raced, 'She must be afraid of being far from me for long… and perhaps it would be a pleasant experience… I don't have to do anything here for now… and accompanying them as assets of mein Vater is vital…'

"When did you want to leave?" He asked, and allowed Keeno's hand to linger on his thigh.

The Elf King slapped the woman with the back of his hand, she fell off of him and down to the floor. "Move faster, wretch!" He bellowed, and she immediately lay prone and arched herself to draw his seed into her. She was weeping, but as long as she obeyed the command, how much she cried did nothing to distract her king after he'd had his enjoyment.

"My King…" The guard at the door uttered, his face stained with tears after watching the King defile his wife while he was on duty protecting the man, shame washing over the elven warrior that he was sure would never wash away from either of the pair.

"What is it?!" The elf King snapped.

"The Slane Theocracy has pulled back, if we make an attack now rather than attend, we can reverse the whole war…" The guard tried not to look at his wife. It was the third time he tried to distract his lord from the woman with this news, and each time it failed.

But having spent himself several times, the King finally chose to listen, his massive, towering body was almost monster like, broad and thickly muscled like a human berserker, his centuries of rule went unchallenged no matter his propensity toward violence and the violating of his own people's women.

"She will probably be there…" The King grunted, thinking of the child he created with the last trump card of humanity. 'And probably, there will be other strong women… Maybe my own race is a total failure… maybe I should try the women of other peoples…' The thought was a pleasant one.

He glanced down out of the corner of his eye, the woman turned her face away while she lay there, her eyes falling to her broken husband.

"No. I am going to attend… you weak trash can do what you like while I'm gone, try to make something useful for me… but for now… one more time before I get ready to leave…" He said, and the guard only muttered…

"Yes, My Lord…" And closed his eyes while his wife whimpered at the renewed invasion as the King assaulted her again.

Both husband and wife had only one thought in their minds… 'Please… please let him die…'

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"So you still have not found a solution, Demiurge?" Ainz asked with no small disappointment.

The archdevil knelt in front of the raised desk of the last Supreme Being, "We have had 'some' success, My Lord. The one called Remedios has thus far been turned into a ratwoman, a catwoman, an elf, an orc, and others. She has a strong proclivity toward suicide however, taking her life quickly after any transformation… It keeps Pestonya quite busy, however when she dies, she reverts back to human. This is proof that the transformation is temporary. Our standard race change item… it is simply too weak for your Lordship… and with a world item incorporated into your body, we simply don't know what will happen. Please, forgive this unworthy failure…" Demiurge's voice became miserable, his face downcast, his hands trembled on his knee, his body stiff and anxious both at once.

"It's fine, if we had the answer it wouldn't need to be researched." Ainz explained, "Continue your efforts, I am sure you will be successful one day soon, my Demiurge."

"My Lord!" Demiurge exclaimed in a half squeak and half relieved cry. He rose to his feet and retreated out of the inner office, allowing Albedo to breeze past him with only friendly nods of acknowledgement.

"Albedo, you've heard?" Ainz asked and set down the quill as if he'd been writing when she entered.

"The tournament?" She replied, a broad toothy smile on her face, "Yes, My Lord. Your plan has come to fruition, and of course I had all potential key players watched. There are some interesting potential candidates, nothing we cannot easily defeat, but we will require more than a battlemaid for the strongest of these fights, particularly to defeat the spear wielder from the Slane Theocracy."

"I see, so do you propose to enter the fight yourself then?" Ainz asked while she approached to stand beside him.

"If it is my Lord's will, I will fight all the demons of hell at once, naked, with only my breasts as weapons… but," she took his hand at the wrist, "If my King is asking my opinion, I wouldn't choose to risk his child." She said and put his hand over her belly.

It was with speed even her eyes could not follow, that he was on his feet and capturing her lips in an impassioned kiss.