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Ozimandias (189)
🕑 Added 2022-09-29 06:48:03 +0000 UTCAs she followed behind the beast, who just by appearance alone exudes a powerful presence, Sita knew that she should not attend the meeting between Medb and Ramses.
No, it wasn't that Sita was afraid of accidentally violating diplomatic protocol of any kind. On the contrary, Sita was superbly educated in all kinds of meetings and royal protocol – as much as her relations with Rama would later turn out, her divine origin aside, she was still a queen.
Rather, her knowledge was the reason Sita understood that she should not be present at the meeting between Medb and Ramses. She was weakening Medb's position in the negotiations, she was simply too weak to be present in the negotiations.
Any way you look at it, they were not in a good position to bargain. After all, from Ramses’ point of view, he just had two unknown Servant waltz into his territory, and had attacked the populace, even one of his own lieutenants, Nitocris, would you want to open negotiations, then?. Luckily, it seems that because the damage was not permanent, and was easily reversed, negotiation was still possible, if at a more precarious position. And seeing that they’re going inside the heart of Ramses’ territory, in the grasp of some kind of Noble Phantasm of his, any mistake would be disastrous.
Also, as they’re in the position of ‘guests’, their negotiating position was already weaker, so Sita wanted to gain any possible advantage. In any situation, even excluding all the preceding factors, the petitioner who went to the meeting in person, coming to his patron's house, was in a position knowingly weaker than the patron's position. Of course, in such a case, the patron was bound by the traditions of hospitality – as long as the other party did not violate etiquette strongly enough to tip the scales in favor of protecting his dignity.
The one receiving the guest had to demonstrate his generosity.
This did not serve to equalize the position of the beggar and the giver, but rather elevated the giver's position even higher. Adding to the weight to he whose meeting is sought, demonstrating a magnanimity of he who can bestow his presence even to the guest who came to him first.
Not that this situation is immutable, there were many factors influencing which speaker was in a stronger or weaker position – by title, knowledge of etiquette, luxury, gifts, intelligence, charisma, eloquence, wordplay, everything down to personal power.
Not that a powerful entity barging into a king's palace would look polite. But if said king did not possess enough power to easily throw an uninvited guest out of his palace, it certainly affected the balance of power in the conversation.
Medb had quite a few characteristics that would have seriously strengthened her position, from her looks to her personal strength – but in the case of negotiation, Sita’s contribution was well below Medb. In other words, Medb’s position would be seriously weakened by Sita’s presence.
Of course, Sita could act as Medb's entourage. But that would mean that Sita herself would become primarily Medb's subordinate, which would cast a shadow over Ainz, who considered both of them his Servants. If Sita accepted a subordinate position now, it would endanger her chances of receiving credit for her work in the future, and thus would create a conflict of power between her and Medb. Something which Medb could not accept in any case.
She would sooner be known as a brainless savage than allow a shadow to fall on her lover, of which Sita was certain, and with which Sita herself could fully agree with. Simply because by taking a subordinate position, it meant that Sita had no right to her own voice, opinion, or action – anything Sita did from this point on would primarily concern Medb and be determined by her words and orders.
Which is unacceptable.
Besides, just one Sita alone was not the luxurious entourage a monarch is supposed to have, rather creating an even more pathetic and comical hue with her presence as an entourage of one middle-level Servant.
And the list of reasons why Sita shouldn’t be here could go on and on – but the bottom line was simple, Sita had to stay out of Medb and Ramses' conversation, for her own sake and theirs.
Nitocris also had to be left out of the conversation – but for a different reason entirely. If Sita didn’t want Medb’s position to be weakened, she certainly didn’t want Ramses’ position to be strengthened.
Ramses, who is in the lead in the negotiation – did not need to show off his power as Medb needed to, to make the other side consider his position more solid. He was already above Medb by the fact that he was in his territory, in his kingdom, palace and throne room. Nitocris, in this case, was not an embarrassingly small entourage for him. Especially considering that he was in his own territory, where his entourage was his entire territory and all its inhabitants, not to mention the sphinxes, which he had already demonstrated their power of.
Which meant that every extra person only strengthened his position.
Not to mention that the presence of Nitocris, who had been enchanted moments ago and was now in a state of confusion about what was going on, could create a problem for Medb with her mere presence.
Luckily for Medb, however, Sita was well aware of these things, and so as she approached the door Sita took a step toward Nitocris, causing her to automatically look away from her. Another proof of her inexperience, in diplomatic settings it would have been considered rude or a violation of etiquette, even if only a small one, to do such a thing.
From the bewildered expression on her face, she was still trying to rationalize her feelings about Medb, which had disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. But at the same time she was not ready to question Ramses’ judgment and therefore not willing to accuse Medb of anything.
Sita, however, only shook her head slightly at the faux pas, then smiled slightly as Nitocris did finally realize the picture before her. "I beg your pardon, Nitocris, this is the first time I'm meeting the great Pharaoh, Ramses himself, so I wanted to know as much about him as possible before our first meeting.”
Nitocris blinked a little incomprehensibly after these words before, as if realizing something, she nodded.
Sita only smiled a little at the words that instantly flowed out of Nitocris, who immediately stopped looking behind for Medb.
Indeed, Sita even felt a little sorry to take advantage of her childlike spontaneity and trustfulness, but…
All's fair in love and war.
Even if this war was only a diplomatic war.
After all, real wars have happened over much less than a bad diplomatic reception.
***
Medb took a step toward the large carved doors leading inside the throne room before stopping.
Protocol and etiquette required that the doors be opened for her by a special servant announcing her arrival… Not that Medb saw many servants in the palace of the Pharaoh, not a single living soul, to be exact. Except for herself, Nitocris, Sita, and the serving sphinx guide, Medb hadn’t seen any other servants, which is very strange for such a palatial abode.
Still, opening the doors leading inside the throne room with her own hands meant that the one entering was one who ‘needed to get inside’. Begging, in other words – cementing a position of subservience even further, which in the current situation was not what Medb wanted at all.
However, if no one opens the doors for Medb, and she continues to just stand idly, not only will she look stupid – she will also give the impression that she is waiting for an ‘invitation’ or ‘permission’. Something which would weaken her position even more.
But demanding that the doors be opened for her would not only be rude, it would also be plain stupid, considering that no other servants in Ramses’ castle had been detected by Medb.
So, after waiting a second to make sure that no one planned to open the doors for her, Medb shifted her gaze to the sphinx still standing beside her. Her gaze clearly conveyed the expectation she had at the moment.
The sphinx waited half a second, checking to see if it was an accident on Medb's part, then shifted his gaze, and then the doors in front of Medb opened, allowing her to pass inside.
Ramses was just as perceptive of Medb now as she was of him, so little things like this were no accident – and Medb's position was too weak to ignore such things so easily.
No, of course Medb could use brute force, but without Ainz's unequivocal orders, it was really the last resort Medb would resort to. Force or no force, Medb didn't like to begin any acquaintance with battle. Just as she couldn't simply rid herself of the knowledge of Skadi that had been hammered inside her since her creation, so is the knowledge of a true queen's behavior and her essence.
Of course, with Ainz by her side, Medb didn't need any throne of the world or any kingdom languishing to submit to her – but that didn't mean that she was incapable of doing anything but being his shadow.
So Medb took a step inside the throne room without even trying to present herself – that was the responsibility of the host and the servants escorting her inside the hall. If the other side could not do such a simple thing – and Ramses certainly couldn’t, since Medb had concealed her personal information with her skills. Something that would become a miscalculation on their part, weakening their position, and therefore playing into Medb's hands.
The throne room in which she found herself was not very large. It was large enough for anyone entering it to walk several dozen meters to the throne, but not large enough not to be able to see Ramses himself on his throne. It is a spacious room made of orange-yellow sandstone, richly decorated inside with all kinds of Egyptian-style frescoes narrating the great deeds of the pharaohs and the gods. Small palm trees lined the room, spread on either side of the blue carpeted walkway leading to the throne, just far enough away to allow any visitor to pass, and with large panoramic windows covered with a glass-like transparent material.
All of these decorations lead to the main part of the throne room – the throne itself.
Atop the couple of meters of peculiar pyramid-like staircase was a rather small and not to say overly luxurious throne made of a strange gold-like material, similar to the material that made the walls, and the same yellow-orange sandstone. It was decorated with elaborate carvings and inlaid jewels, but it did not look overly luxurious or pompous, being rather at the level of ‘acceptable’ for such a place and the person seated upon it.
Sitting on the throne, however, was a much more remarkable Servant than his surroundings, which was an accomplishment in and of itself.
A man approaching perhaps his third decade, but who definitely looked younger than his years, and only Medb’s attentive and knowledgeable eyes made her capable of telling. He did not look really grown up according to his appearance, but his posture and gaze revealed a man who had seen a lot in his lifetime. His dark skin, fully exposed above his waist, allows anyone to see his very impressive physique. Gold and azure gloves covered his hands, with the black mannish dress below his waist and the light white cloak framed by a necklace of gold that was too large hung on his shoulders and chest, completing the ensemble. All these pale in comparison when compared to the Servant’s face.
The soft, yet sharp features of his face, that made the man look somewhat effeminate and yet at the same time emphasized his masculinity. His dark brown hair with a slight glow from the sunlight dancing on it, with two gold ornaments hanging from his ears. And the Servant’s main feature, his amber and honey-colored eyes, that looked at the world glinting like the sun. And yet, not with the joy or vigor with which the sun was associated, but with a majesty of experience and years, allowing everything in his gaze to enjoy its radiance. But no one can mistake that the warmth bellied, ready to turn in an instant, a gaze full of fury and chastening fire.
Medb loved that look, sadly it was nothing but embers when compared to her beloved Ainz baleful crimson eyes, though perhaps the comparison is unfair. Nothing could equal her Ainz.
Pharaoh of Pharaohs and King of Kings, Ramses the Second, the Great Ozymandias.
Now standing in front of his throne, Medb was reminded once again that her position was not exactly a strong one – with too many reasons to list. And so Medb did not have many options for what behavior she could take.
There was no way for her to apologize to Ramses at this point. By doing so, Medb would have acknowledged a ‘mistake’ and therefore would have been ‘indebted’ to Ramses. Something that needed to be compensated for, such as with a gift or her own favor or even information. She could not do such things, as that would mean that Ainz would be indirectly put in a subservient position, one needing to make amends.
Likewise, Medb had no way at this point to ‘equalize’ their positions by showing her fighting power. Though Ramses was bound to respect personal power, as far as Medb could judge it according to her understanding, respect was not equal to submission as she understood it. Even if Medb could easily destroy Ramses palace – it only meant that he would die in a suicide attack with a smile, but would not admit defeat. An unappealing result, one that would not give her any leeway to ask for praise from Ainz.
With simple negotiations also out of reach; his position was too strong and Medb's own was too weak, there was only one way to reach a satisfying conclusion.
The only way to avoid violence, and at the same time achieve her goal of information or allied help, was to rely on the little information Medb had been able to understand about Ramses in her brief time of observation. And to act as one of her status and intelligence is supposed to.
So, Medb would not show politeness, which Medb could not afford in current situations, but instead show deliberate hubris - Medb saw only such a way forward for herself in the current situation, without battle. If that didn't work out, well…
Medb didn't like fighting, but she remembered quite well how it was done.
So, showing no fear of Ramses’ presence, Medb continued moving. Not waiting for acknowledgement of her presence, when Ramses himself would mark her presence as procedure dictate. Perhaps he would do so by raising his voice as master of the palace? Alas, that would be something that Medb wouldn’t be able to learn now.
Instead, continuing to walk almost entirely to Ozymandias throne, stopping just a couple of meters before the start of the stairs to the throne, before finally pausing. Medb was now maybe five meters from Ramses herself, a distance sufficient to deem approaching at such a distance in the face of a king in his castle as rude. Then she spoke first, to assert her dominance. “How inhospitable are your chambers, King Ramses.”
Ramses responded to Medb’s words by raising one of his eyebrow slightly, letting his eyes slowly fill with some surprise, mockery, and even respect. But not responding to Medb's words, clearly aware of herself as the master of the situation and allowing Medb to continue her speech.
“I've only just come off a long road, and I don't see a single seat in front of me that would allow my feet to rest.” Medb then shifted her gaze a little lower, clearly showing her direction of gaze.
“Except the chair you occupied. Don't you think, as King of this land, that you should show your hospitality and give way to a lady?”
Although the phrase was uttered by Medb with a certain sneer – it was certainly a grave rudeness, though disguised in a rather humorous way. To a lesser king, such a thing might even have been cause to execute the insolent on the spot – and so Medb had no doubt that at any moment Ramses might have become enraged at her words and attacked. Something that would disappoint her, but would definitely make any negotiations easier.
Instead, however, Ramses only grinned in surprise, after which he laughed out loud without covering his mouth, completely unconstrained and in violation of his luminous aura and powerful figure.
“Ahaha! Kuh, I haven’t laughed so much in so long!” Ramses’ burst of laughter lasted a few more seconds before he was able to get it under control. “Not only beautiful, but witty, a truly wonderful addition to my harem of concubines! I offer you a place, Servant!”
“Ah, I am so grateful for the offer." The thought of Ainz misunderstanding such a scene and thinking that she has loved him less caused Medb to furrow her brow slightly, but she was not one to lose composure and attack first. “But such generosity on the part of the master of the house must be rewarded – and so I will return the same offer to be part of my harem instead.”
At these words Ramses, seemingly not at all annoyed by such words, only broke out again in a resounding loud laughter, before waiting a few seconds to calm himself a little.
“What a beautiful and generous offer," Ramses, who seemed in the best frame of mind imaginable, smiled broadly. "I'm so exasperated and enraged by your words that I can do nothing but laugh… Splendid, splendid, how long has it been since no one has given me such splendid entertainment!”
“Amusement, hmm?” Medb smiled a little, making sure her assumption was correct. "In that case, why doesn't Ramses himself step down from his throne, so we can have a wonderful conversation that might amuse him even more?”
“Get out of my seat?” At these words, Ramses broke into an open smile. "It doesn't matter, because even if I get off my throne, we won't be on the same level anyway.”
A moment later, Ramses tilted his head slightly to the side – to Medb's gaze, it was the first time Ramses had ever changed his steely posture in any way.
And Medb's gaze instantly noticed the momentary and so insignificant change that such a change in posture had revealed.
As Ramses’ head moved as his head tilted, just for a moment, it shifted a few millimeters more, his head sliding minutely off of his neck. As if his head is no longer attached to the rest of his body…
Then a moment later, Ramses returned to his usual straight posture, as if what had happened a moment ago was just a trick of the eye, causing Medb to inwardly note this.
‘So this is what the real reason looks like…’ Of course Ramses could not answer directly, not from his position, that he could not get up from his throne because his head was trying to fall off his neck, and so decided to respond with a light joke, making that also a response to Medb's quip. But the very fact that Ramses had shown Medb the real reason served practically an apology on his part.
Of course Ramses would never utter such words, but his action had indicated that he himself was indeed constrained by the problem, not by his perception of Medb.
Medb could respect that – but she was not content to just stand by Ramses throne like some supplicant, she has an image to maintain after all. And so after a moment, she took a half-step back, as if to take a seat on something – to be exact, on her golden throne, which instantly appeared behind her back.
“There’s no need to worry." A moment later four figures appeared at the four corners of her throne that had turned into a palanquin, and after another moment they grasped the handles of her palanquin.
"I am quite capable of rising to your level myself.”
A moment later, the four manifested servants synchronously lifted the palanquin upward, lifting Medb to a level where she was almost level with the Servant on the throne.
Medb smiled charmingly, as if she cared nothing for the grave faux pas bordering on lèse-majesté, and only looked into Ramses’ eyes.
***
Moving through the red-hot black desert Mashu was calm… Well, no, she was certainly a little anxious – how could she not be anxious in Singularity, especially one that looked so hostile?
But at the same time, Mashu wasn't too worried – and that was primarily due to the fact that Ainz, her Master, was there.
Being near him, Mashu could not feel any worry about anything at all. Ainz was strong, so strong that when Mashu finally seemed to come to terms with his level of strength – he would, with a slight movement of his hand, turn all of Mashu's understanding upside down.
Like, for example, with her newfound immortality.
Mashu worried that she was dying? No problem, one snap of the fingers and Mashu is now immortal!
Mashu was still grateful to Ainz, but her picture of the world, already torn up and barely put back together more than once, was torn again – because Ainz was even more powerful than she first thought.
And, of course, this realization didn't particularly help to build theories of ‘who Ainz was’, but that was more Da Vinci's primary interest, not Mashu's. Besides, such great acts went a long way toward reassuring Mashu.
Ainz was so powerful that next to him, Mashu could fear nothing – and he was also brilliant, all-knowing, and ready for all events in the world.
That was why Mashu was not particularly stressed by her current surroundings.
Yes, the world had experienced an apocalypse, and she was walking through a scorched black desert with death and horror all around her, but so what? It was pretty much business as usual in the past Singularities as well.
As long as she’s next to Ainz, none of that was a problem for Mashu.
So moving through the black wasteland, Mashu wasn't even worried about the fact that she was just following Ainz, not sure where she was going at the moment – who cared? If Ainz was leading them, then he knew exactly where they needed to go, when they would arrive, and how.
She had to admit, though, that the surrounding scenery was not conducive to observing nature and enjoying the views. After just a few minutes of watching the horrifying picture of the apocalypse, the unchanging landscape had bored Mashu, causing her to turn her head around in an attempt to find a source of entertainment.
Maybe she could bother Scáthach? No… absolutely not her.
Scáthach looked as if she were half a step away from skewering someone on her spear, and there was a good chance that she wouldn't be particularly picky in her choice of targets.
And Scáthach was continuing to glare at Ainz as they walked – something that she had been doing ever since her summoning. Even in Chaldea, whenever she appeared in the same place as Ainz, she would glare at him, obviously trying to find an opportunity to kill him, and not finding one, she began to think out her plans again.
No, the very fact that Scáthach was clearly expecting to finish off Ainz was already seriously affecting Mashu's perception and seriously reducing her desire to communicate with Scáthach.
If Scáthach was out, then, um.
Mashu eyes then found Arthuria, silently continuing to follow Ainz.
‘You have a better chance of getting answers from a stone than from her.’ Galahad, whom Mashu could not forget even in her dreams, answered Mashu’s unasked question, making her sigh.
What a strange irony, Mashu, who possessed the strength and even the personality of Galahad in her head, a knight of the round table, a stone's throw from the legendary King Arthur. And they might as well be worlds away, their chance of communication so low
It would seem that they should have so many topics in common, so many memories that Galahad could share through Mashu, so much in common and so many topics from the past that they had once not discussed.
And yet, Mashu had absolutely nothing to talk about with Arthuria!
That is to say, the reason was first and foremost that Mashu herself was not even the real Servant, but simply used the abilities of Galahad, a true Servant and a true Knight of the Round Table.
But the second and also important reason was that she was not the legendary King Arthur – this was Arthuria, the Black King of Britain, the Alter Version of King Arthur, changed in her essence, her thinking, and her actions.
And, more importantly, in her desire to talk.
Mashu just couldn't think of a decent conversation starter with her.
‘Try discussing something about food,’ Galahad prompted Mashu. ‘Somehow, I'm pretty sure that will work…’
Mashu thought about it for a second – Arthuria has clearly demonstrated her love of food on more than a few occasions, on some days completely monopolizing Archer’s attention. But to talk about food? What kind of discussion could one have about food!?
Not that Mashu had other conversation topics to discuss, though, other than discussing matters of the day, like the Singularities. As a test-tube child raised completely inside the confines of Chaldea, Mashu had never even seen the outside! And therefore could only navigate the conversation by the information she picked up from books. So talking with Arthuria was out.
Mashu's gaze shifted again, this time to Medusa.
What about Medusa? She seemed quite open to conversations…
‘’Also, you're going to have a very interesting discussion with that one about your relationship with Ainz sooner or later.’ Galahad’s comment suddenly made Mashu feel a shudder running through her spine. ‘Don't worry, I'll cover my ears and eyes.’
Mashu sighed, then gritted her teeth as she shifted her stride slightly to get closer to Medusa, but only made it halfway before the sudden realization that they were suddenly not alone anymore made her stop. A moment later, though, the other Servants did, too.
Ainz, who had been walking calmly, shifted his gaze, then glanced toward the rocks in the distance.
After a moment, there was first a loud sigh from behind the pile of rocks, and then Mashu saw a middle-aged man emerge from there… Probably.
His figure was covered by a black cloak, already familiar enough to Mashu, that looked more like tattered rags, and his body itself had almost coal-black skin only further accentuating his white, skull-like mask.
“I suppose it was foolish to count on stealth when it has never been my forte.” The voice came from what looked like a middle-aged man, but it was impossible to tell his age from his appearance alone. His voice was the only reference point in this regard. “Fighting, incidentally, is not my forte either, so I suggest we just talk…”
After waiting a few seconds, and finding that none of the Servants had rushed to attack him, he exhaled once more. “I’m sorry, but you are currently trespassing on our territory, the territory of the Old Man Of The Mountain, our Assassin Sect, so may I ask for your reason to do so?”
“The Assassin Sect territory?” Ainz suddenly asked in a confused tone of voice, as if he wasn’t going there in the first place. “Ahem, and the Holy City? Is it near?”
The Hassan, though Mashu couldn’t really tell which one, was clearly somewhat surprised and confused by the question, and was deep in thought for a moment before answering. "It's about twenty kilometers north from here, and our territories are contiguous. So, no, the Holy City is nowhere near.”
“Ah, well," Ainz, sounding somehow relieved by this statement, smiled at the Hassan – and with his appearance he couldn't have been anyone else – before nodding, "Well, if so… Lead the way then.”
Comments
Edgar Delibo Jr.
Maan I wanna see the King of the hassans. That be super cool
Russian Reversal
We have Serenity and Cursed Arm, this one is not one of them
Roughstar333
Which hassan is this one? Cause we have the long armed one right?
Techrono
Thanks!
