A dragon descends on the imperial capital!
It's the second time. Even a dire event loses its shock the second time around—not quite. The citizens tremble in fear, soldiers collapse in despair. The first time, Mare unleashed a massive spell post-dragon attack, killing many, reducing the Empire's Four Knights to three. One might call Nazarick a villainous group, but the Empire provoked them first. To Nazarick, it was justified retaliation.
This time is different. Amid the panic, Emperor Jircniv alone remains calm, forewarned. Still, it's a dramatic entrance.
Thanks to the great Ainz's thoughtfulness.
Days earlier, Albedo reported sending that man—who ranted about human extinction—to the Empire to learn diversity. Ainz caught on.
This is demotion.
Sending someone from E-Rantel, the Sorcerer Kingdom's capital, to the prosperous Empire might seem a promotion. But it's banishment from power's core to a vassal state—clearly a demotion.
As a former salaryman, Ainz knew demotion well. The rare soul who strives to return to headquarters is an exception. Most think, "Oh, that's how they see me? Fine, I'll slack off—screw this!" They grow bitter, lose drive. Ainz had seen many such colleagues.
He felt a pang of guilt. A light reprimand led to this. Though deserved, it was pitiable. The man, fiercely loyal to Albedo, wouldn't betray them, but Ainz sowed the seeds of demotion. So, he told his friend Jircniv, "I'm sending this guy—treat him well."
"Damn it, what's with that man! Is Ainz planning to gut the Empire from within!?" Jircniv, the young emperor, spat venomously once that man left their meeting.
"Is he even human? Can a man be that beautiful?"
"He didn't lie. He's human," said Roxy, a concubine attending the meeting.
Sent directly by Ainz, Jircniv took maximum precautions, meeting the dragon-riding man in the palace's heart with Roxy by his side.
"He grasped the capital's layout, the palace's structure, and its comings and goings instantly? Ainz keeps absurd company," Jircniv said. "What's your take?"
Roxy, neither strikingly beautiful nor nobly born, had a keen eye for people and sharp intellect. Jircniv valued her most among his concubines—a fact known to those close, unknown to those distant.
"He's like Your Majesty but a hermit at heart. Wealth and honor don't interest him," she said.
"Then women?" Jircniv asked.
"Pointless. Any woman sent to him would fall before he does."
"Even you?"
Roxy smiled, silent. Jircniv clicked his tongue.
(If he spoke truth, would he have served the Empire had we sent for him ten years ago? From Nazarick, yet born in the Kingdom? That beauty can't come from common stock—likely noble or higher. But what's the use? Even if I traced his origins, he'd never switch sides.)
He cut off the thought. Beauty can emerge from commoners, but odds favor nobility—powerful men seek beautiful partners, as Jircniv himself exemplified. Noble or poor, evidence wouldn't sway someone under Nazarick's Prime Minister.
Fortunately, he came to study culture, showing no intent to undermine the Empire. If Roxy saw no lies, Jircniv would ensure a pleasant stay, hoping he'd praise the Empire back in Nazarick.
Forgetting his stomachache, Jircniv returned to work. Sorcerer Kingdom diplomacy left much to address.
Meanwhile, the young master from E-Rantel, Jircniv's new headache, was getting kicked by Aura.
"Aura-sama, stand there. Look forward, spread your legs a bit," he said.
"What're you planning?"
"Something Mare enjoyed, for you."
"Like this?"
"Yes, hold still—!"
Grabbing Aura's slim waist, he lifted her, slid under her legs, and lowered them over his shoulders, standing to complete the shoulder ride. Instantly, she choked him, toppling him gracelessly. Aura, flung upward, landed perfectly.
"What was that!?" she snapped.
"Guh!" he grunted.
Her kick, gentle for Aura, merely lifted him. His slightly tougher body—leveled up oddly—and Nazarick-tailored suit's defenses helped.
"A shoulder ride for a better view," he said, brushing off dust.
"Don't lump me with Mare!"
"But in this crowd, height helps."
"Forgot my class? I sense everything. Did you forget? You told the Emperor you've memorized the capital's layout."
"Of course. The aerial view is etched in my mind. Straight ahead, there's a fruit stall. Fifteen shops to the right, skewered meat—unsure what kind, but let's start there."
"Fruit first," Aura insisted.
"As you wish."
The trio stood in the central market, the Empire's liveliest open space outside the palace, teeming with people. Stalls ranged from proper storefronts to simple carts and ground displays. The Empire's diversity—unlike the Kingdom's single ethnicity—made it a melting pot of cultures, ruled by an emperor appointing governors. Albedo wisely chose it for cultural study.
The market buzzed, but a pocket of space surrounded them. The man's radiant beauty stopped people, followed by awe at the youthful dark elf and the armored imperial knight. In E-Rantel, his evolving beauty was familiar; in the Empire, his perfected allure stunned, like a divine light in human form. Onlookers froze, worsening the crowd.
Unaware of their disruption, the pair planned to lunch at a stall. The knight, meant as a guide, became a wallet since the man claimed to know the city. Aura nibbled, passing disliked bites to him. She preferred fruit—sweet over sour.
Aura lingered for a reason. Jircniv, informed of Ainz's solo envoy, prepared a grand mansion, reserved as the Sorcerer Kingdom's embassy. Too sudden to be ready, it needed time, so they stayed at a high-end inn Ainz had used. Aura, a Nazarick minion, couldn't resist staying there, sending messages via dragon to her beasts for an overnight stay.
She also wanted to discuss something from his talk with Jircniv.
The inn, likened by Ainz to a luxury hotel, paled next to Nazarick's suites but thrilled Aura. After eating, they left the market for the inn.
"I can't say much yet, but I'll be back," Aura said.
"Understood," he replied.
For security, she withheld details about her Sorcerer Kingdom duties—its alert network. The man had told Jircniv:
("Your capital's security has gaps. Or do patrol routes compensate? The guard posts' placement seems inefficient. I can suggest improvements.")
Roxy saw it as well-intentioned. With Lupusregina, Mira, and Sixes arriving—Sixes a powerless maid created by the Supreme Beings—any harm to her would enrage Ainz, potentially razing the capital. He aimed to bolster security to prevent that.
Jircniv, masking fury, saw it as meddling in police powers—a step toward autonomy. Ultimately, Aura's beasts would secure the mansion.
Aura's interest was security. Her role was the Sorcerer Kingdom's wide-area vigilance. As its territory grew, the system risked collapse without reform. She eyed the man—Albedo's subordinate, praised by Demiurge—for ideas.
Such talks couldn't happen there. At the inn, they asked about Ainz's stay, discussed souvenirs for Mare, and enjoyed dinner. The inn's food, subpar compared to Nazarick, was made palatable by the man's orders.
Their rooms were separate. Alone, the man, relaxing after being with the high-ranking guardian Aura, turned inward to his vast memory palace, containing the entire capital. Walking its mental streets, he saw people—strangers he hadn't placed. Their chatter was unfamiliar.
Was he seeing his mind or reality? In E-Rantel's mental mansion, it was empty. His study held books, pages turning at will. Albedo's dining room showed her in various poses—on a sofa, standing, or divine on a bed. Back in the capital's palace, guards ignored him—it was his mind's construct. Unlike E-Rantel's tangible memories, these couldn't be touched.
Was this inside or outside? If outside, why in his mind? Where was this capital?
Questions swelled, but he postponed them, bathed, donned a gown, and headed to Aura's room.
To sleep beside her.
Her warmth on the dragon was delightful. Sleeping together would ensure cozy comfort.
Author's note: Quitting smoking isn't easy! (#ﾟДﾟ) Unlike Albedo or Shalltear, Aura lacks erotic traits and outranks the Pleiades, so we'll take it slow. The poll stays up for now.