rure
patreon
Interlude: Witch of the Land of Shadows (227)
🕑 Added 2024-01-11 18:30:33 +0000 UTCAinz and Medusa's ‘talk’, if it could be called that, lasted for much longer than his interactions with all his previous meetings with the new Servants. It was no surprise though, after all, in addition to his special relationship with Medusa, Ainz had simply known Medusa for longer. The new Servants, being new, Ainz simply lacked things that he could talk with them about. Discounting him calming down King Arthur, and her subsequent drunken ramblings, and Jacques future planning for a Private Military Company, there’s really not that much to talk about.
Ainz simply found it much easier for Ainz to talk with Medusa. One conversation topic followed from the other, and when they both finished discussing everyday talking topics, the conversations started to take a much more personal tone. Like talking about their future together, a house or even a family…
And the talk of a shared future quickly enough turned to talk of a shared present, which eventually turned to physical proof of such intimacy. And that in turn stretched Ainz's meeting with Medusa even further. After all, he had the inexhaustible stamina of an undead, and Medusa had the nearly inexhaustible stamina of a Servant that is supplied with the almost endless supply of mana from Ainz himself.
In other words, it was not until nightfall that Ainz left Medusa's room. Leaving a Medusa that followed after him to the door, doing her best not to look at anything else other than Ainz, lest she notices anyone around. After all, if she cannot see anyone that could have overheard her and Ainz’s passionate ‘talking’, they must not exist, right!? Is the thought running in Medusa’s head as she clutched desperately at the ruined bed sheets that she had promised her older sisters to change.
A message she must have received telepathically, and not when her sisters teased her just now.
Ainz, however, did not feel any embarrassment as he left Medusa's room… Because he saw nothing wrong with his relationships, and that’s without the assistance of his Emotion Suppression.
Sure, Ainz still felt a bit of embarrassment at the thought of his love life, and the thought of talking about it was too embarrassing to think about. But why did he have to go to the other extreme and be embarrassed about it? Wasn't he supposed to enjoy his relationship, and the things that accompanied such a relationship?
Besides, to be honest, Ainz was even a little proud of his current relationship.
Yes, he was aware that his relationship is unusual, never mind the strange fact of just how the changing and uncertain number of people involved in it. It was bound to bring him trouble in the future, but couldn't he be at least a little proud of himself at the moment? I mean, surely Peroroncino would be torn now between two states, approval and envy, if he could only learn of Ainz’s relationships…
The thought of his old friends made Ainz allow a small smile on his face as he leisurely walked with no certain destination in mind, just letting his feet lead him forward.
Thinking about his old friends almost always pleased Ainz, bringing him joy about his past accomplishments. However, along with that, the memories always brought him sadness as well, memories of not only the adventures he had with his friends, but also the fact that those adventures were over. His friends were gone, one by one, never to return.
And no matter how many times Ainz remembered the happy times he had with them, each time, even the seemingly pleasant memories eventually left him with a bit of sadness, a melancholy for the times gone by.
But this time, as he moved through the corridors of Chaldea after a pleasant conversation with Medusa, remembering his old friend, Ainz did not feel sadness or melancholy. On the contrary, the thought of his friends made him smile, imagining the pomp with which he could announce to Peroroncino that now Ainz had not only a relationship, but a harem. Something not only Peroroncino, but his entire guild had never had in the past… Though Touch Me and Bukubukuchagama would probably condemn him as a pervert.
And a girl like Medusa or Olga were existences beyond comparison, a bit literally in Medusa’s case. So how could Ainz not feel a little proud of himself in such a case?
He was a Master with many Servants, an operative of Chaldea, a powerful mage, and was in a relationship. Why shouldn't he at least be a little proud of himself?
However, his moment of self-aggrandizement came to a sudden halt. He was struck by a sudden bout of sadness, of melancholy, a familiar feeling that he felt whenever memories of his friends came to the forefront of his mind. But rather than the usual black cloud of resentment, this time the feeling of sadness was lighter somehow, even pleasant?
No, that was the wrong word, sadness couldn't be pleasant, but it could be light, as if it were something ephemeral, like a symptom of something that had to move its own way… Bittersweet.
The strange feeling caused Ainz to sink into his musings for a moment, only to snap out of them again as his feet once more unconsciously propelled him through Chaldea to his next stop even when his mind was absent. As he gazed around him, he realized where he was.
Of all the places in Chaldea, for some reason this was the one time Ainz's feet had brought him to the training ground.
Ainz didn't have time to think about the deeper meaning of his current location, however, as he was attracted by a voice coming from inside the training ground.
"Wrong, all wrong!”
For a moment, Ainz wondered exactly who that voice belonged to before quickly remembering and sighing.
Well, on the one hand, if he had already begun to deal with the problems in Chaldea, be it King Arthur or the Gorgon Sisters, why shouldn’t he deal with this one? It was a simple case of mistaken identity after all, so it should be much simpler to solve rather than a King’s unresolved daddy issues and obsession with boats.
Of the Great King, Ozymandias, Ainz once again could not recall his existence, and once again the time bomb kept ticking on. And if Ozymandias himself could have learned of Ainz's failure to meet him not because he was busy in pursuit of other goals, but simply because he had simply forgotten?
That most likely would have given Ainz yet another implacable enemy among his Servants.
However, given that Ozymandias, despite his many abilities, could not read minds, the number of Ainz's implacable enemies remained unchanged for the time being.
And it was to one such ‘enemy’ that Ainz decided to bother their training session.
***
The concept of time was of little importance to Scáthach, at least for what could be called her ‘normal’ life. In battle, every moment, much less a second, could mean the difference between protecting humanity from yet another dark enemy and an untold number of horrifying disasters.
Scáthach herself would not be harmed in this instance. If such a thing was easy to accomplish, she would not have so much trouble with her immortality. Scáthach had become too strong, achieved many feats, who had gained immortality for her accomplishments in destroying gods and demons, to be felled by mere dark gods.
But, every split-second, every failed blow could bring disaster to humanity… As much of a paradox for a defender of humanity to wish for a foe that could defeat her, she took her duty seriously.
Outside of battle, however, Scáthach's existence made it such that the very understanding of 'time' was distorted for her. After all, what point is there in keeping track of ‘time’ for an eternal witch that lived in the void on the border of the Shadow Lands, where she endlessly performed her service, guarding Humanity? Her entire existence was an endless circle of battles, interrupted by lulls in the battle.
However, such lulls could, should, never put a damper on her combat skills.
After all, the amount of combat experience that Scáthach has is exemplary, even among thousands of other heroes. Her endless battles had honed her abilities to the very limit. Besides, aside from the endless battles, there were few distractions from her never-ending mission to protect humanity from the creatures of the Shadow Lands.
Even while in the meaningless lull in between battles, Scáthach didn't have many distractions from her endless battle.
However, speaking purely in terms of theory – Scáthach’s abilities and skills could degrade. Purely theoretical of course, however, unlike Lancelot, Scáthach did not possess a special ability that could prevent her from losing her combat skills. So, theoretically speaking, keeping her skills sharp is of paramount importance.
Theoretically speaking, of course.
In Scáthach’s life, however, she had no need for such a thing. Deprived of the very possibility of leaving her post in the Shadow Lands, the problem of losing her skills due to a sudden change of situation or distraction was as insignificant as the possible loss of skills due to their non-use.
However, the current situation around Scáthach didn't fit too much into the possible framework of her 'normal life'. Of course, it could not be said that the summoning of Servants fit the definition of ‘normal’ for any Servant. But, then again, Scáthach was not even a Servant in the proper sense of the word.
Her appearance in Chaldea was due to the destruction of the Shadow Lands, something she had thought eternal, and was even more out of the realm of ‘normal’. Then again, even if the Shadow Lands had survived the Singularity, there was no more Humanity to defend.
Her further involvement in the Singularity had only pushed her further out of her norm. And the final nail in the coffin of Scáthach’s current situation was her admission that it was at least theoretically possible that not all existing dark creatures were totally evil.
Of course, that didn't mean that she would now be loyal to Ainz or abandon her sacred mission of protecting Humanity from the creatures of the Land of Shadows. But the very fact of such a monumental admission, which went against everything that Scáthach believed in and fought for, could even happen, could not help but affect Scáthach, at least in some small and insignificant way.
But the problem with small things was that they tended to accumulate.
Her summoning as a Servant, the journey to the Singularity, the admittance of something that went against everything she stood for… All of these things together couldn't help but impact Scáthach in some manner.
And unfortunately, these unexpected events had an equally unexpected effect.
Scáthach had lost some of her combat skills.
No, of course it was not an instant degradation in which she would forget which side she was supposed to grasp her own spear from, all the gods of the world powers’ combined were powerless to deprive her of such basic abilities. It was not so significant of a loss of ability, so much so that calling it a ‘loss’ was perhaps a misnomer. A thousand out of a thousand opponents that faced Scáthach in the past and the future would not find any difference between Scáthach of old and her of now. They would all find their end at the edge of her spear, never realizing that her skill had deteriorated in any way.
But they indelibly had.
And among all possible people that were familiar with Scáthach’s fighting skills, there was one person that could instantly detect the fact that her fighting skills had indeed become worse. Maybe her spear had deviated by a fraction of a millimeter, but it had deviated nonetheless.
Scáthach herself.
With every thrust of the spear, with every feint, both real and not, and with every step, Scáthach could feel her action deviating from the perfect path. One that she had carved with an eternity wielding her spear. Her thrust had been a moment too late, her feint had opened up a hundredth of a percent larger opening, her steps had not been perfectly balanced.
It was such slight deviations that Scáthach, the strictest of judges and teacher, could not consciously deem her actions to be less than perfect. There was no decrease in her deadliness, nor could she deemed her ability to have rusted, and yet… With every strike, and every step, she knew that it was imperfect, like grains of sands inside the sole of her foot. A minor irritant, but no less noticeable.
An insignificant little thing, barely noticeable even to herself, but certainly existent, a slight irregularity that irritated more than any wound.
Annoying, in that there was absolutely nothing Scáthach could do about either the cause or the effect of this change. Scáthach couldn't just change something to fix this issue, because she herself didn't understand what it was that she needed to change, what it was that was the cause of this deviation.
Or rather, she certainly understood that what had happened was a consequence of many small factors, but she couldn't change any of them!
A spear thrust that she would usually have deemed to be perfect, a hundred points out of a hundred, a thousand out of a thousand, felt wrong. As her spear entered the body of the silent mannequin, a feeling of wrongness made her grit her teeth helplessly.
“Wrong, all wrong!” It was only by sheer force of will that Scáthach kept herself from doing something stupid and irresponsible, like throwing her spear, for example. With the vexation she felt, it would not be a surprise if she accidentally fired off her Noble Phantasm and killed some unlucky bystander, piercing their heart. It was as if all the reflexes sewn into her nerves and muscles had tensed at once to suppress her emotional impulse.
Scáthach pulled her spear back, watching the damaged mannequin recover before her eyes, annoyed, knowing that such petty problems could have led her to much bigger problems later on. Because she had let such petty things affect her psyche, the anger awakening in her could lead to far bigger mistakes – especially on the battlefield.
Scáthach paused for a moment and exhaled forcefully, trying to release all the negativity and annoyance she felt. It did, if for a moment.
But even though this action brought her peace of mind for a while, Scáthach realized that it was only a temporary solution. And until she dealt with the cause of her irritation, all she could do was rely on such temporary solutions time after time.
Scáthach closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she controlled her breathing. A warrior’s mind is their best tool, and she could not hope to solve her issues with a troubled one.
It was then, when she had gathered her calm, did she notice that she was no longer alone in the training room. Her steadied calm, allowing her warrior nature to return to full alertness once more, as she turned towards the unexpected interloper. Berating herself internally for the fact that in the heat of her emotions, she had managed to miss almost half a second of a potential opponent's presence near her.
An oversight that was unacceptable for any Servant, let alone a warrior like Scáthach herself.
As she turned towards the intruder, she couldn’t help but lose her calm once again, as her emotion soured.
The one who appeared beside her turned out not to be a Servant, but Ainz, her Master. The cause of Scáthach’s unpleasant feelings, causing her to feel uncomfortable wielding her spear. Something which made her feel the familiar anger, and irritation, rise again in her soul before quickly quelling them.
While being friendly with Ainz was definitely impossible, approaching an opponent as dangerous as Ainz should have been done with a cool head.
“Ainz.” Scáthach noted the distance separating them, and how quickly she could cover the distance, addressing him joylessly before turning her head slightly, showing only cold curiosity instead of respect. “Did you want something?”
“No, I was just strolling through Chaldea and heard the sounds of your training.” Ainz's words made Scáthach feel another surge of irritation, both at Ainz for overhearing her frustration and at herself for not being able to contain her emotions.
“You were training, I would presume?”
Scáthach didn't want to answer, but trying to send him away with her silence now was doomed to failure, especially after he had already noticed her training, so she was forced to answer briefly.
“Yes.”
“That’s good.” Ainz nodded at her answer before turning his gaze to the now immaculate mannequin standing across from her, already back to its original form. “Are you okay? There are no problems?”
Ainz's words struck a jagged blade through Scáthach's heart, forcing her to clench her jaw before she said something. Admitting any amount of weakness to Ainz was like anathema to her.
Yet to lie, to send him away now, after she had answered his first question, and truthfully at that? Ainz seemed to enjoy looking at how Scáthach was forced to dance to his song while answering his questions. She would give out more bait for this dark being to enjoy!
“No problem, just a normal training process.”
After saying these words, Scáthach turned away, readying her spear, her whole demeanor showing her reluctance towards interacting with Ainz and her desire to send him away at the moment. A simple kata should show her busyness, but the thought of Ainz's presence made her think that she would surely not be able to show her full effectiveness at the moment.
Ainz's eyes were on her, which only reignited the irritation inside her mind that was usually so indifferent to all kinds of problems and the most horrible battles. Before she could start her usual routine, she turned around to face Ainz, as his gaze felt like lead on her limbs.
“Ainz, if you have something you wanted to say, say it now.”
Hearing her declaration, Ainz looked at Scáthach before slowly closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Whether you believe my words at this point or not, but I just wanted to meet and talk to you.”
Scáthach could feel her composure snapping, hearing such blatant lies. And unluckily for her, her usual way of dealing with such irritants, that is skewering such things at the end of her spear, was not available to her. She certainly could try, but it was only the insane who repeated the same actions expecting different results.
Another fight between her and Ainz would only once again result in her defeat. And so, all she could do was to vent some of her negativity at Ainz's expense – oh, how far she had fallen.
“To make my life difficult once again? Or is this not going to stop until I follow the rest of the Servants, and dance to all your tunes, forgetting my mission as protector of the Shadow Lands?”
Whether or not Ainz wanted to respond to those words at this point, Scáthach didn't know, as she was too busy venting all the repressed anger she had felt, that had made her familiar spear felt alien to her.
"It wasn't enough for you to humiliate me by making me a Servant and then questioning my beliefs! Now you've decided to take away the only thing I have, my powers, and you have the nerve to pretend you're just here to talk to me!? Or is that just a threat? A desire to crush all that I am out of your petty sadism, part of the infernal plans of a creature looking thousands of years into the future? Whatever the excuse, I don't care at all! You're an enemy of humanity, and I'm going to destroy you!”
There was silence for a moment after Scáthach's outburst of negativity, in which she was even able to breathe a little easier, feeling a little better, but Ainz's voice sounded cold in response. “Are you done or are you going to list something else?”
Ainz's tone, though cold, was neither threatening nor even hostile, it was rather formal, if not even somewhat polite and understanding. As if Ainz was letting Scáthach express herself, as one would expect a Master trying to deal with a foolish Servant whose explosive temper was more due to their immaturity and lack of social skills than anything else.
In other words, it was an unmistakable insult, and the last strands of her patience snapped.
Her spear spun in her hand, and a moment later Scáthach leapt forward, casting aside all her thoughts of how unwise her move was, her spear aimed towards Ainz, feeling nothing more than bloodlust. No, not even that was in Scáthach’s mind. For a moment it was as if she had reached a state of Nirvana, absolute Zen, and struck a blow that left no room for thought, emotion, or rage.
It was probably the best blow she had ever thrown in her entire life, surpassing even the attacks she had thrown in the Shadow Lands.
After all, in the Shadow Lands, while instinct and training guided her, at the furthest corner of her mind Scáthach kept thinking. About her enemies, about humanity, about the tricks and tactics of her opponents, about future battles.
However, at this moment, there was no humanity, no Lands of Shadows, nothing but Ainz in front of her – the enemy that she desired and needed to destroy. It was the perfect thrust of her spear, aimed solely at one target.
A moment later, however, a familiar feeling of restraint covered Scáthach's body and her consciousness plunged into darkness.
***
As Ainz might have expected from a powerful Servant, Scáthach didn't stay unconscious for long, blinking her eyes awake after only a dozen seconds, despite the fact that the spell he used was quite good even for its not very high level. A cost-effective spell that is less draining on his Mana pool.
However, that was where the positive, if that could even be called a positive, of the current situation ended, and all the negative sides of the current situation somehow boiled down to one final thought.
Scáthach had once again attempted to kill Ainz.
Moreover, this time, it was no longer possible to write off Scáthach’s attack to a possible disorientation after just being summoned by someone she had mistaken as a past enemy. A disappointment to be sure, as Ainz thought that all this time he was making small but still steps towards, if not reconciliation, then at least neutrality with Scáthach.
As far as he could tell, Scáthach could maintain some semblance of communication with Nobunaga, someone that she had come to blows with. She had managed to calm herself down during the Singularity, and wasn't even in a hurry to get into battle with Angrboda, a quite literal enemy to Humanity.
Moreover, judging by her bouts with the other Servants, had found a way to vent her anger and other emotions in sparring sessions.
A more than worthy option out of all the possibilities, considering how many of his past friends from Ainz Ooal Gown had used this same method to deal with their stress in the past. Showing their love in battles precisely because they couldn't wait to crack someone's head open in battle in order to avoid snapping at someone in the real world. Ainz had thought that he had built some amount of rapport with Scáthach.
This time, however, his assumption did not hold true, and even his generally very calm and neutral attempt at communicating with Scáthach had led to her renewed attempt to attack Ainz. It was certainly not a threat to him, but the fact that Scáthach had tried to attack him could not be ignored. Either in terms of just signaling to all his other subordinates at how he needs to punish insubordination, and outright attacking him, or in terms of maintaining some sense of self-respect in front of his own eyes.
He needed to punish Scáthach… But how?
Ainz doesn’t wish to lose such a valuable piece of his collection still, even if Scáthach did try to attack him.
Not that she would have any success in that regard against him.
Frozen with indecision, Ainz saw Scáthach to open her eyes, come to her senses, even check the condition of her own body. Restraining her under the effects of movement-restricting spells was not something Ainz would do this time, as that would probably just irritate her more. Ainz observed how, even with how he had just shown the futility of her attack, Scáthach had still not let go of her spear.
At the very least, if Ainz had ever had to choose a Servant to be hostile to him, Scáthach would be the least dangerous. A spear as a stabbing weapon was the least dangerous way to attack Ainz after all.
And so, despite his instinct screaming at him to disarm any possible enemy, Ainz had allowed Scáthach to keep her spear. If only not to risk provoking her into attacking again, and this time in another unpredictable, more dangerous way, rather than the weapon that Ainz knows he counters.
Scáthach, however, rather than attacking him, thankfully, simply started moving her spear up and down as if she was trying to weigh it. Then, strangely, after she was satisfied that nothing had changed – Ainz had done nothing to her spear that would elicit such a reaction, Scáthach flourished her spear in a spin a few times.
After a few test thrusts to test the balance, Scáthach paused, and then with a sudden sharp turn, she lunged with her spear… Thankfully, not at Atinz’s direction.
With a graceful efficiency that prevented even air from even rippling around her attack, her spear glided through the air with a speed that even Ainz was forced to at least note in his perception.
Scáthach, however, despite the fact that such a demonstration of her own combat skills should have pleased her at the very least, only sank into thought, frowning slightly before turning her gaze to Ainz. Rather than the hate that had made her attack Ainz in the first place, there was only a reluctant smile.
"Ah, so that's it, now I see why you are considered a genius strategist… And why I was right to fear you as a major threat to humanity.”
Closing his eyes, Ainz tried desperately to curb the reaction that he wanted to express right now. Ainz wanted nothing more than to rush forward and started shaking Scáthach for answers, at how she could reach such a stupendous conclusion. How could such a random series of events lead her to conclude that Ainz had done anything at all!?
The ruse of his ‘great’ intelligence had saved his hide many times in the past. He couldn’t count just how many times his lackluster plans had been saved by the simple fact that his enemies had overthought themselves into a dead end. Because they had thought that some random actions he took were some part of a great plan.
So great and intricate, that even Ainz himself couldn't discern its beginning and end!
On the other hand, despite just how confused it usually leaves him, does Ainz have the right to complain about it? It somehow made his subordinates see him in a much more competent light than Ainz could ever have expected, which flattered him considerably. Never mind the fact that it also served as another additional support for his Servants.
And besides, it was not like Ainz could now answer all the questions that would inevitably follow his sensational statement that he had long ago had no idea at what exact ‘stage’ his ‘brilliant’ plan was at. Or what plan it is in the first place, as he typically just flies by the seat of his pants, and somehow things worked out well.
Nobody would be happy to hear that their pilot had successfully flown over a typhoon simply because they just hit the right buttons at the right time.
And therefore, all he could do now in response to another supposed display of his ’brilliance’ was to silently prepare himself to endure another portion of incredible revelations about his equally incredible ‘plans’.
“Indeed, how could I think that you would leave alone the one who promised to destroy you?”
Scáthach grasped her spear tightly, but even Ainz could see that she was clearly not going to attack him with it at the moment, but simply out of irritation. "Every little part, every little detail is just another touch, a small thread in the big picture, a blow not to my body, not to my mind, but poison all the same to both. To poison me with doubt, to destroy me from the inside, my pride, my fighting skills, relying on my own psyche – like a parasite, you had planted a worm of doubt in my mind, letting me fight myself…”
Ainz had barely even thought of Scáthach a few times up to this point, let alone trying to 'poison' her in any way, least of all lessening her strength. After all, he needed all her skills so that she could be the best Servant she could. But even so, Ainz wouldn’t disabuse whatever notion Scáthach had thought of for what had troubled her.
What was the point of trying to convince Scáthach of that now?
“And just when your strategy started to work, you came back again, holding out your fake ‘salvation’ to me.” Scáthach gritted her teeth, anger lacing her every word, as she glared at Ainz.
"Really, what a blatant attempt at provocation, when you know that you would never be in any danger? I know I can't kill you, and you know that as well. You know you won't attack me back, and I know that… So wouldn't it be easier for me to unleash all my hatred in an attack?”
Once again, Ainz did not explain to Scáthach that he had just thought about possible ways to punish her for the attack. Allowing her to speak her mind instead of once again doing something completely random and thereby doubling the complexity of his 'grand plan'.
“Fighting you is what helped me get rid of this poison, a blow stripped of feeling, thought and emotion as my only salvation. And I had swallowed it, hook, line and sinker…" Scáthach was clearly satisfied with herself, that she had figured out the next part of Ainz's diabolically cunning plan. Ainz wasn’t planning on stopping her, when she was busy telling Ainz his own plan.
"But that's simply the next step of your plan! To make me strike that blow as if into your heart, to make me see the enemy before me, and when I see the enemy, to analyze it, to come closer to understanding it, to defeat it… To turn my abilities into a swamp that would swallow me up until my mind left me completely. The one who always acts according to your orders, or the one who always does the opposite, what's the difference between them? If both are obedient dogs rushing to the target you specify with just a matter of a few words…”
Ainz, having stopped even listening to Scáthach’s monologue as if inside a mystery novel, and she was the detective that had discovered the killer, explaining the tricks behind every murder. He had tried to connect the strands of thought that had led Scáthach to her conclusion, and had gotten lost at the first step.
He didn’t even know that Scáthach was having issues in the first place! And had entered the training room simply because his feet had led him here, and he had simply decided to go in at a whim. So how could he have planned anything out!
Giving up, Ainz had started daydreaming about his relationships, taking advantage of his Undead nature to keep a poker face, so he almost stumbled when Scáthach suddenly slammed her spear on the ground, creating a loud thump.
“Either be poisoned by doubt or be consumed by mindless rage, is that the choice you have in store for me!?” Scáthach looked at Ainz with such hatred in her gaze that Ainz started trying to remember the massacres he had most definitely done to evoke such a reaction from Scáthach. Only to remember that he had done no such thing, it was simply Scáthach being Scáthach.
“No, you will find in me no simple hunt, Ainz. Keeping myself balanced between the mires of doubt and the fires of rage while interacting with you would be difficult, but you will gain me neither poisoned mercy nor defeat. You will be studied, you will be understood… And you will not escape me.”
Ainz hesitated for a few seconds whether he should say or do anything, checking to see if Scáthach had finished accusing him of all the deadly sins. Determining that she clearly wasn't planning to continue, he asked her a calm question.
"So everything's all right?
“Sure.” Scáthach answered him almost calmly before turning away, lifting her spear and getting ready for another round of training with renewed enthusiasm.
“Then I will be going.” With their conversation, if one person speaking and another just nodding along could be called a conversation, Ainz could only turn around and head away from the training hall. Thinking that day by day, the legend of the great strategist Ainz was only getting stronger and stronger.
He really would like to meet that Ainz person, he would like to ask for advice one of these days.
Comments
Abaddon Lucifer
thx
