Chapter 9: Fateful Encounter (8)
Kaiser fell into thought.
An undead with humanity — he knew better than anyone how dangerous that was.
A typical Elder Lich or Overlord was predictable: self-serving, obsessed with control, easily appeased so long as their ego and desires were fed. They could be manipulated, contained, or destroyed.
But one that retained reason and emotion? That was another story.
Such a being could become unpredictable, capable of mercy—or of unimaginable cruelty.
He understood it all too well.
Ainz valued his past, treasured the memories of his comrades, and had built Nazarick as a monument to them. What had once been love had, through undeath, rotted into obsession. Whether Ainz realized it or not, that very attachment might one day push him beyond sanity.
Perhaps he would never even notice the moment he crossed that line.
"If it's for Nazarick," Kaiser thought grimly, "he might commit atrocities… and never feel guilt for any of it."
Even if not consciously aware, Ainz's capacity for remorse had probably long since faded.
The real danger wasn't Ainz alone—it was the entirety of Nazarick.
He hadn't seen the strength of every Guardian yet, but if Cocytus's power was any indication, each of them was capable of annihilating nations. No previous Player Kaiser had ever met had built anything of this scale.
Nazarick was more than a fortress. It was a divine error—something that looked as if a god had gifted an entire world to a single being.
He smirked faintly, his voice low.
"That's why beings who call themselves gods… are always the most insane."
He sighed. Now came the hard part.
Keeping relations "friendly" didn't mean relaxing his guard. He wasn't foolish enough to do that.
Even if he built trust, Ainz could betray it at any time in the name of Nazarick's survival.
And once Ainz discovered that Kaiser was no myth—that the legend was real—he might decide to exploit that power instead of respecting it.
"Yes," Kaiser thought bitterly. "He's probably a good man… or was, when he was still human."
Because he treasured memories, because he loved his comrades—Nazarick was dangerous precisely because it was born from love twisted into obsession.
Kaiser exhaled softly and began to walk aimlessly through the streets, no destination in mind, his steps light but his heart heavy.
....
After some time, he stopped in front of a familiar-looking building.
A weathered sign read "Adventurer's Guild."
Nostalgia struck him like a blade to the chest.
He remembered when he had been an adventurer—
a wanderer chasing undiscovered lands, exploring uncharted ruins, delving into dungeons no one dared to enter. Back then, he hadn't thought about being humanity's guardian or the weight of titles. He'd just lived freely, laughing with his comrades, his sword always at his side, his heart full of wonder.
They'd bled, nearly died, been poisoned, captured—but always survived, always smiling.
Those days had been simple, reckless… and perfect.
"Well," he murmured. "Since I'm here, might as well take a look."
He pushed open the door and entered.
The smell of ale and metal filled the air—an adventurer's tavern, just as he remembered.
On the quest board hung dozens of requests: monster subjugations, noble escorts, herb gathering, bodyguard duties. The usual.
But as Kaiser scanned them, a quiet sigh escaped his lips.
"The content's changed," he thought. "Less adventure, more… labor."
Back in his day, most adventurers risked their lives for glory, discovery, or foolish dreams.
Now, the requests were safer, more practical. Rational, perhaps—but soulless.
"Dreams and romance don't pay well, huh," he muttered wryly. "Guess the age of heroes really is over."
He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes.
....
Then—whizz!
Something sliced through the air behind him.
Kaiser tilted his head just enough to let it pass.
Thunk! The object embedded itself in the wooden quest board where his head had just been.
He blinked.
"…Really?"
He turned around, unamused. "Whoever you are—throwing something straight at my head? That could've killed me, you know."
A calm, mocking voice answered from behind.
"You talk big for someone who wouldn't have died even if it hit. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"
Kaiser frowned and turned toward the object stuck in the board.
It wasn't a weapon—it was a crystal.
And not just any crystal.
It shimmered faintly with a familiar magical signature—one he knew only one person could create.
Unless she had taken on a student—no one else in this world could possibly use that spell.
Kaiser's body froze. His expression hardened as he turned his head slowly toward the voice.
"…No way," he whispered.
His pulse quickened—not from fear, but from the shock of recognition.
A flash of red caught Kaiser's eye.
A figure stood before him, wrapped in a crimson cloak, her face hidden behind a peculiar mask.
The voice that followed was unmistakably distorted—altered by magic to conceal its owner's true tone.
Even through that mask, he could feel it—pure, suffocating hostility.
From the slits in the mask, a faint crimson gleam seemed to burn like eyes aflame.
For someone so small, her presence was overwhelming.
Her companions—clearly startled—rushed to calm her.
"E–Evil Eye!? What the hell are you doing!?"
"Hey! You can't just attack someone unarmed like that!"
"Unarmed?" the masked girl spat. "If I threw that straight at him and he didn't dodge, he'd just walk it off. And if he did get hit, he wouldn't even take a scratch."
Kaiser sighed, leaning back against the quest board, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
So much for a quiet day.
Evil Eye ignored her bewildered party and kept her gaze fixed on him.
Kaiser scratched his cheek and forced an awkward smile.
"O–oh, it's been a while… Kino."
"…It's Evil Eye." The distorted voice trembled with restrained fury. "Quite a nostalgic face, isn't it, Kaiser? Walking away like that—without a word."
"Haha… well, you see—"
Thud!
Another crystal slammed into the wall beside his head, splintering the wood.
The air around Evil Eye shimmered, heat and mana flickering like fire.
Her anger was palpable—far stronger than anything he'd ever seen from her before.
Her companions could only stand in uneasy silence, caught between confusion and fear.
Kaiser gave a strained laugh, raising both hands in mock surrender.
"Right… I see you're still as direct as ever. Sorry about that."
He could hear whispers ripple through the tavern.
"Crimson Rose…" someone murmured. "That's Blue Rose—the Adamantite team!"
Ah, so that was it.
He'd heard of them from Gazef. One of the strongest adventurer teams in the Re-Estize Kingdom.
Which meant Kino—no, Evil Eye—was part of that legendary group.
"Apologies, truly," Kaiser said, still half-smiling. "If I apologize sincerely… will you forgive me?"
Even though her expression was hidden, he could feel the glare that came with her silence.
No words were needed—her murderous aura said enough.
....
Elsewhere — Slane Theocracy
Clack, clack.
A small girl twisted a ruby-colored cube in her hands, each rotation clicking softly in the quiet chamber.
One side aligned easily; the others stubbornly refused.
There was a pattern, she knew, but she hadn't yet seen it.
Her appearance was… unnatural.
Half her hair was snow-white, the other half jet-black.
Her eyes matched—one crimson, one silver.
She didn't look human, though she insisted she was, and everyone around her pretended to believe it.
"What are you doing here, child?"
The voice came from behind—a man in ornate robes, eyes like glowing embers beneath his golden circlet.
It was Berenice Nagua Santini, High Priest of Fire.
The girl didn't bother to look at him. "Nothing."
He frowned, but didn't press her. Everyone in this place treated her with formal respect—but respect didn't mean freedom.
She wasn't allowed to leave these halls except under the rarest of circumstances.
Beside her, a black scythe rested against the wall—its edge gleaming faintly with divine light.
Anyone could see at a glance that it was no ordinary weapon.
This was the Slane Theocracy's innermost sanctum.
And this girl—hidden even from most of the upper clergy—was no ordinary child.
Among the Six Scriptures, there existed a seventh, unknown to nearly all: the "Unofficial Seat," the Silent Calamity — Desperadeth.
From her vantage on the second-floor balcony, she idly watched as Nigun Grid Luin, leader of the Sunlight Scripture, staggered into the hall below, barely conscious.
He looked battered—humiliated.
Her crimson eye narrowed.
"So that's the man who went to assassinate Gazef Stronoff," she muttered, resting her chin on her hand.
"Judging by that sorry state… he ran into someone far beyond his league."
The ruby cube clicked again—one side complete, the others still chaos.
To Gazef or Nigun, it made little difference — in the eyes of Desperadeth, both were weak.
But Nigun had carried something powerful, hadn't he? The angel.
Not as devastating as her own weapon, perhaps, but still considered a "trump card" by the Theocracy.
And yet he lost.
Even with a Seraph at his command.
And worse — whoever defeated that angel had spared him.
Something about that didn't add up.
Desperadeth narrowed her mismatched eyes and listened silently as the battered man knelt before the High Priest.
"High Priest…! I beg your forgiveness! You entrusted me with a sacred mission, even lent me one of the highest-ranked angels, and yet I, Nigun, have failed! I accept any punishment!"
"Report," the High Priest ordered coldly. "Was it Gazef Stronoff who defeated you?"
If that were the case, their evaluation of the famed Warrior-Captain would need to be rewritten.
Defeating a Dominion Authority was not something a mere human could do.
And Gazef hadn't even been wearing the royal treasures of Re-Estize during that mission.
Perhaps… he had been hiding his true strength all along?
Nigun's trembling voice cut through her thoughts.
"I–I never even met Gazef Stronoff, sir."
"…What?"
"When I was about to capture him, another man appeared. He destroyed my angel instantly… and told me to leave."
The High Priest's expression hardened.
"So you simply returned? You—one of the Six Scriptures—abandoned your mission in the name of God and came back empty-handed!?"
"I'll accept any punishment!" Nigun cried. "But I believed it my duty to report that man first! His power—what I saw—was something divine!"
The High Priest frowned, recalling how his scrying spell had abruptly cut off during the mission. Some interference had blocked his view.
He had no choice but to rely on Nigun's testimony now.
"What was his name?"
"He… he called himself Kaiser! Even if he were a fake, he was powerful enough to crush a Dominion-class angel in a single blow!"
"Kaiser…" the High Priest muttered.
Up on the balcony, Desperadeth exhaled softly through her nose.
That was enough.
She had heard all she needed.
It was probably another imposter.
There had been dozens of them over the years—fools invoking that name for fame or fear.
Nigun must have met one of those pretenders.
She turned to leave—
But then Nigun said one more word.
"And… he seemed to know about the Theocracy. He mentioned something called… Panda."
The world froze.
A violent wind whipped through the marble corridor, and in the blink of an eye, a small girl stood between Nigun and the High Priest.
Her dual-colored hair fluttered like a banner of judgment, and her crimson eye glowed faintly.
Nigun's instincts screamed at him—monster.
The High Priest's face went pale.
"Desperadeth! What do you think you're doing!? This is a public hall!"
But she didn't hear him.
The girl gripped her massive scythe—taller than she was—and fixed Nigun with a piercing stare.
"Well?" she asked quietly. "Keep talking."
The High Priest could feel the temperature in the room drop.
Desperadeth's thoughts raced.
It's real.
That angel-slaying strength—yes, there were beings in the world who might achieve it.
But the mention of that one word—Panda—removed all doubt.
"You look just like a panda. Mind if I call you that?"
Only one man had ever said that to her.
No one else even knew the name existed—she had never spoken it aloud again.
If that word had been uttered to the Theocracy, there was only one conclusion.
It was him.
The real Kaiser.
Ignoring the shouting clergy and the flurry of divine wards trying to reactivate, she took a step forward, her scythe's edge gleaming.
"Report," she commanded coldly. "Tell me everything you know… about the man you met."
*****************
If you want to read 20 advance chapters ahead.
Visit my patreon; patreon.com/Vanity01