53: Outsiders and a new Retainer: The Overlord Meets a Shop-Keep
The sun was a lazy, warm weight on the back of Leornars Servs Avrem's neck. Two weeks had passed since he'd caught the Vurnam City Lord, that arrogant windbag, red-handed in his political theater. He had already dispatched Stacian and Zhyelena—his two most competent retainers—to dig up the deep roots of the man's deceit.
Leornars sat outside the manor, a cup of dark, fragrant tea in his hand. It wasn't a fancy teacup, just a functional porcelain mug. He was poring over documents that, frankly, were about as exciting as watching paint dry on a dead wall.
He muttered to himself, reviewing the papers: "So, their main export is cotton and fish, huh? And the imports are perfume, wine, wheat, and rice." He took a slow sip of the tea, letting the steam warm his face. "Reasonable. Mundane. Which is exactly what I want."
His plan was simple, and yet, it was proving to be a monumental pain. He would draft a trade agreement, getting Lurtra and Vurnam financially entangled. Once that was achieved, their ridiculous declaration of independence would seem less like a noble cause and more like a suicidal business decision.
With Avangard—his new nation—set to be operational in a month, he was going to need a bigger labor pool. He'd better start his rally of the monsters.
He sighed, a long, weary sound that had nothing to do with the cool breeze. "Huh, this is a pain," he muttered, tossing the trade papers onto the small table beside him.
The real headache was the Lord's midnight visitor—a shadow who delivered a box of leftover Pollium (the cause of the kidnappings) and some hefty gold bars. Stacian was right; this wasn't a local issue. It had the stench of a large, organized syndicate.
Snap.
An Undead Knight, one of his most reliable summoned subordinates, materialized beside him. Leornars scribbled a quick, concise message on a piece of parchment, sealing it with a drop of crimson wax.
"Deliver this to Durmount for Selrose," he instructed, handing the paper over. "Tell her this matter is officially getting under my nerves."
He rubbed his temple as the Knight vanished with a soundless shimmer. Leornars finished his tea, stood, and decided a walk was in order.
The Yamaguchi Outfits
The town square was a minor miracle. Beastfolk children with tiny, twitching tails were playing tag with human children whose cheeks were flushed pink.
Why can't the world have the same ambition as children? Leornars mused, his hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive, if slightly threadbare, coat. They don't know racism, or hatred, or war. It's the self-proclaimed leaders who manufacture it all.
He reflected that a true leader's job wasn't to send their citizens to die, but to protect them. The irony was palpable: the masses held the real power, yet they constantly handed it over to the few. What good was a crown if no one followed you? It was just a shiny hat.
As he walked, a flash of color snagged his attention. A young woman was passing by, dressed in clothes so starkly different, they felt like a glitch in the world's matrix.
She noticed his stare and stopped, a slight, genuine smile on her lips. "It's nice, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at her own outfit.
"Yes. It's… unusual," Leornars replied calmly, his curiosity piqued. This fabric, this cut. It's not of this world.
"So, where did you get them?" he asked.
"At the guild—wait, no, the shop opposite it. I think it was called… Yamaguchi Outfits?" she said, then continued on her way.
Leornars watched her retreating back. New cultures are good, he thought, resuming his stroll. They inject new life into a stale world, effectively erasing the idiotic concept of 'who's better' by introducing 'who's simply different and interesting.'
He found the shop a minute later. A little bell tinked sharply as he opened the door.
"Welcome!" a cheerful voice called out.
Why does this feel… unusual? he wondered. The clothes hanging inside—vibrant, patterned, and made of lightweight cotton—were like nothing sold in Lurtra.
A girl, maybe in her late teens, hurried from the back. "How may I help you today?" she asked, her eyes bright and expectant.
"I'm here asking about these unusual clothes," Leornars said, deadpan.
She glanced down at the vibrant, floral pattern of her own outfit and promptly burst out laughing.
Leornars raised an eyebrow, a flicker of irritation hitting his composure. He thought he had a better opening line.
"Forgive me," she managed, wiping a tear. "They're called Yukatas." She reached behind the counter and pulled out a soft, pink one.
He took it, examining the weave closely. "Hmm. Cotton. But there's a lot of silk mixed in."
"Wow," she breathed, genuinely shocked. "You figured that out just by touching it?"
He's been sewing up all of Shullah's clothes and Stacian's ridiculous dresses for years. That's beginner-level stuff.
"Yukatas? That's another odd name," he said, deliberately letting the word linger.
A slight, almost imperceptible hesitation. Her eyes darted around the small shop. "They were actually very common in my world," she whispered, clamping her mouth shut immediately afterward.
"I knew it." Leornars allowed a slow, predatory smirk to cross his face.
"Manipulation 101: Always let them speak about something they love. They'll be wide open to you, because people—even those with secrets—love talking about the things they love." He thoughtfully said
She slumped against the counter, defeated. "You got me. My name is Kurumi Yamauchi. I'm from a different world than this—a country called Japan." She squared her shoulders. "So, what are you going to do? Take me to the knights?"
"My, my, you are a feisty one," Leornars said, setting the Yukata down. "But why would I waste valuable resources?"
"Resources? Valuable?" She tilted her head, then barked out a short, bitter laugh. "Listen here, buddy, I've been working here for ages and only sold ten Yukatas in the last two months. I'm far from valuable. I'm practically worthless."
"No," he corrected, leaning closer. "These clothes are a rarity. Even I, in my own world, never saw them. I'm shocked to see them here, now."
Her eyes widened, suddenly sparkling like polished obsidian. "You're from a different world too?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
"Which country?" She stepped closer, an excited energy radiating from her. "With your pale complexion, I'd guess probably Russian or Polish?"
"Russia? Polish?" Leornars looked genuinely puzzled. "What are those?"
"They're different countries where I came from. Wait… are you from Earth really?"
"I came from a world called Muryian," he clarified. "I don't know what this 'Earth' is. What year did you come from?"
She placed a finger on her chin. "It was the year 2019 when I was transported here."
"Hmm. So even our times were off. How… intriguing."
"What year did you come from?" she countered.
"1289, of the Lutian Calendar."
She stared blankly.
"We'll talk about worlds later," Leornars said, cutting to the chase. He gave her a winning, if slightly terrifying, smile. "Right now, I have a proposal for you."
She tilted her head.
He watched her face, waiting for the scream, or the disbelief.
"What?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You want to invest in my clothes?"
"That is the proposal. You and I, Kurumi, are going to make Yukatas extremely popular."
"And how am I sure I can trust you?"
Leornars paused, letting the silence settle, then delivered the final, crushing blow.
"I've already created a new nation. It's thirty miles south of here, and it's called The Empire of Avangard. I hope that clarifies it."
Her disbelief was a physical thing, washing over her face in a wave of shock.
"Manipulation 101: Suggest a deal with a beneficial result for both of you. Then, if they hesitate, add a more convincing—and often overwhelming—piece of evidence to prove your value. But never lower yourself. In business, even a slight drop in confidence is crucial. It could be the difference between ruling and going bankrupt." He thoughtfully said
"You're a King?!" she shrieked, finally breaking the silence.
"Not yet. Give me a month," he corrected smoothly. "But I hope our agreement is acceptable. I'll be your benefactor, and you will act as a cultural bridge between Lurtra, Vurnam, and Avangard. Or is there anything you would add?"
She shook her head rapidly. "No."
She offered her hand across the counter. "I'm Kurumi Yamauchi. A pleasure to do business with you."
Leornars took it. "I'm Leornars Servs Avrem. The pleasure is mine."
He bought five Yukatas and left the shop, the sound of Kurumi Yamauchi's victorious scream echoing behind him.
"The clocks will tick as you either fulfill your dreams, or watch them wither," Leornars thought, smiling slightly. With her, he could acquire new ideas, new devices, and maybe even learn more about this 'Japan' place. Mother mentioned it to him a few times, but she was always annoyingly vague.
Carrots and Chaos
Leornars was loaded down like a mule: five Yukatas, five more pieces of jewelry, a selection of fresh fruits, children's shoes, and a stack of colorful books.
He really should have summoned a knight, he thought.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the manor door burst open.
"Uncle Leornars is back, brother!"
Before he could react, Shullah, his adorable, tiny niece, launched herself off the steps and straight into his arms.
"Eeehhh!" he exclaimed, nearly dropping the merchandise. His instincts kicked in; he instantly summoned Bellian—a silent, hulking Undead—to catch the goods, while he secured Shullah.
Zaryter—his retainer and Shullah's older brother—came out holding a plate of something green and steaming.
Both Shullah and Leornars looked at it in identical disgust.
"Yucky! I don't like vegetables! They smell like… like pee!" Shullah declared dramatically.
Zaryter frowned. "Lord Leornars, tell her vegetables are good."
"Did you just cook carrots?" Leornars asked him, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
"No wonder something smelled like… well, not pee, but definitely crap."
Zaryter's face fell. "I guess you don't like vegetables either."
"He has no problem with vegetables. He just hates cooked carrots. Raw are… tolerable." Leornars placed Shullah gently on the ground. "Here, little terror."
He handed her the small box of shoes and the brightly colored children's book. Her eyes lit up.
"Thanks, Uncle Leornars!" she cried, hugging his legs, then ran inside to show off her spoils.
Zaryter watched her and smiled, a pure, genuine expression. "Thanks, Lord Leornars."
As he started to turn, Leornars tossed a small box to him. Zaryter caught it instinctively. Inside was a brilliant red dragon bracelet. He wore it immediately, a huge grin on his face, and sprinted inside, yelling:
"Stacian! Look what I got!"
Stacian's perfectly dry voice immediately cut through the air. "Did you finally get a working brain?"
"You're mean!" Zaryter retorted. The sounds of a domestic squabble were a strange but welcome part of Leornars' life.
A New Retainer: Salene Nurlia
The basement was another world entirely, thick with the scent of ozone and strange chemicals. Leornars opened the door to find Ayesha Truelah—his chief scientist—in her element, wearing a pristine white lab coat and a pair of utterly absurd purple glasses.
She turned and immediately bowed. "Lord Leornars, I didn't know you were coming."
"You can rise, Ayesha. He's not here to scold her."
"Then what brings you here?"
Leornars presented her with the small box. "I came to give you a Yukata."
"A Yukata?" she asked, taking the box. She opened it to find a deep purple one. "Thank you, Lord Leornars." She bowed again.
As he turned to leave, her voice stopped him.
"Lord Leornars, can I ask you for a favor?"
Ayesha isn't the type to ask for anything. She's the most independently focused of his entire retainer system. What could she possibly need?
"Salvera!" Ayesha called out.
A girl with intense red hair emerged from the inner laboratory. She was striking and held a surgical knife in one hand and a needle in the other.
"This is Salvera," Ayesha explained, bowing low, a rare bead of sweat trailing down her temple. "She is a Demonfolk. I was asking if you could, Lord, make her a retainer."
"A retainer? A Demonfolk? I haven't officially met one yet. Is this luck? No, I can't rely on luck." He thought
Leornars' gaze shifted to Salvera. "Salvera, was it?"
"Yes, Lord," she said, her voice surprisingly level.
"I'll access her behavior. Master-servant contracts could be broken now; I'm not as weak as I was wheni made a permanent bond with Stacian and Zaryter." He thought
"What are you good at?" Leornars asked, his curiosity shifting into a professional interest.
"As you see, Lord, I am a scientist," she said. "I am proficient with Explosion Magic and Cellular and Anatomy Control. I can warp someone's organs, manipulate their physical forms, or even just twist their heart out with a spell."
Leornars' interest turned into a satisfied grin. Excellent.
He looked back at Ayesha. "I did make you stronger. What can you do now?"
"I can use Illusions, Hypnosis, Decay Spells, Lightning Spells, and some Healing and Charm Magic," she recited proudly.
"Good."
They walked out to the main hall, where the entire retainer system was waiting, including Zhyelena, who had just arrived.
"Alright, Salvera," Leornars announced, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "I will make you a Retainer. But know this: betrayal will be dealt with death."
She nodded once, her eyes unwavering.
A red magic circle formed at their feet. Leornars pricked his thumb and let a drop of his blood fall onto the crest. Salvera did the same. Red crests shone instantly on the hands of every retainer present, and one appeared faintly on Leornars' own palm.
Salvera knelt on one knee.
"Salvera, I, Leornars Servs Avrem, hereby ask you to pledge your loyalty unto me."
"I, Salvera, pledge my undying loyalty to your noble cause, Lord Leornars."
The crest on her hand flared brightly.
"I grant you a new name as you discard your old life to serve me. Do you accept it?"
"With all of my core," she replied.
"I grant you the name Salene Nurlia."
As the name left his lips, a flash of power surged through her. Her horns shifted from black to a brilliant white. Her red eyes deepened to a profound blue, and her red hair followed suit, becoming a rich, dark blue cascading over her shoulders.
She rose, a completely new person.
"Salene Nurlia, at your service, Lord."