"Warning! Warning! Step away from the corpse! That is our trophy!"
Amidst the blaring warnings from amplified loudspeakers, a convoy of Military Humvees and light combat vehicles sped over the rubble, accompanied by the heavy whirring of Apache helicopter rotors overhead.
Under Shalltear's increasingly impatient gaze, a heavily armed squad of U.S. Army soldiers piled out of the vehicles, their assault rifles raised.
"We have direct orders from the United States Military," the commanding officer barked through a megaphone, stepping forward. "We are here to take custody of the hostile combatant from this incident. Please step away from the body immediately to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings!"
Hearing the sheer absurdity of the soldier's demands, Shalltear was almost driven to a mocking, hysterical laugh.
Before departing from Nazarick, the Supreme Being had explicitly told her that the enemy's corpse belonged to the Great Tomb of Nazarick as a spoil of war. And now, these fragile, short-lived mammals actually wanted to snatch away Lord Ainz's property right out from under her nose?
"Humans!" Shalltear's voice dripped with aristocratic venom. "Truly a foolish species. Not only foolish, but incredibly arrogant!"
She gripped her [Spuit Lance], her crimson eyes glowing with lethal intent.
"You! Who gave you the courage to dare offend the majesty of Nazarick?!"
[Summon Household]
Facing these fools who spoke with nothing but unearned bravado, Shalltear didn't hesitate for a microsecond to summon her vampiric kin.
From within the shadows of the collapsed buildings, massive swarms of bats and packs of shadow-wolves with glowing red eyes began to slink out, closing in on the Military's perimeter.
Seeing the sudden manifestation of monsters, the Military personnel simultaneously clicked off their safeties and raised their firearms.
A one-sided, absolute carnage was imminent.
"Wait! Wait! Wait a moment!!"
From the periphery of the ruins, an urgent, hoarse shout reached the ears of both the soldiers and the Blood Valkyrie.
Three disheveled figures emerged from a collapsed storefront, heavily supporting each other. The person shouting at the lead was none other than S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Phil Coulson.
The three agents were severely battered from the Quinjet crash and had been conserving their strength in the rubble. It wasn't until they saw General Ross's men about to trigger a war with the Vanguard of Nazarick over a corpse that they forced themselves to drag their broken bodies out.
"My lady, I am Agent Coulson," he gasped, leaning heavily on Clint and Natasha as he slowly approached Shalltear. "I have been the one in charge of liaising with Lord Ainz previously. Please, calm down. I will go and communicate with them!"
Only when he saw that Shalltear didn't immediately impale him did Coulson manage to finish his sentence.
Shalltear merely gave a disdainful, bloody smile at his plea and turned her gaze back toward the army. Her shadow-kin did not halt their menacing advance.
But at that exact moment, a familiar, authoritative magic transmission echoed directly in her mind.
[Tier 7 Magic: Message]
"Shalltear. Cease your attack. We are not yet prepared to go to open war with humanity."
The fury in Shalltear's crimson eyes vanished instantly. Lord Ainz's orders were absolute. Even though her bloodlust screamed at her to slaughter these insolent soldiers, the moment the Supreme Being's voice rang out, she obediently waved her hand and dismissed her kin.
Seeing the terrifying black shadows dissolve into mist, Coulson finally breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Still supported by the two master assassins beside him, he pulled out his encrypted S.H.I.E.L.D. phone to contact Director Fury while bracing himself to contend with the Military squad.
[The Triskelion - S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters]
"Coulson, stall for time."
Nick Fury's anxious, hard-edged voice rang in Coulson's ear the moment the line connected. "Our STRIKE teams will arrive shortly! We must not let the conflict on-site escalate!"
Those words gave Coulson a desperately needed boost of confidence. The three of them were running on fumes; asking them to stare down a heavily armed Military platoon—an organization S.H.I.E.L.D. already despised—was a tall order. But backup changed the board.
Coulson, Natasha, and Clint stood firmly between the Military squad and the vampire, flashing their S.H.I.E.L.D. credentials to initiate the standoff.
Back in the Director's office, Nick Fury slammed the phone down. His expression was murderous.
"Motherfucker!" Fury cursed fiercely. "That bastard Ross!! Does he have any idea what he's doing? What kind of apocalyptic consequences this will lead to?!"
Without wasting a second, Fury dialed the secure line of the United States representative on the World Security Council.
General Ross didn't possess the classified intelligence on the true identities of Shalltear and the master of Nazarick. To a blunt instrument like Ross, it wasn't surprising he'd make such a spectacularly foolish land-grab. But the Council knew what Nazarick was capable of. Fury needed them to put a choke-chain on the Military immediately.
Fury refused to let a larger, world-ending threat materialize right after neutralizing the current one. And in his single eye, the Great Tomb of Nazarick was undoubtedly the ultimate threat.
A single Dragon Servant had left the combined might of New York's defenses exhausted and broken, destroying multiple city blocks. How much damage could Nazarick—the entity that casually swatted that Dragon out of the sky—inflict on the planet if provoked?
Fury wasn't going to let Ross find out.
…
In the center of the battlefield, right as the negotiations between Coulson and the Army captain were hitting a boiling point, S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical rovers arrived at high speed.
The first thing the heavily armed STRIKE teams did upon disembarking was establish a hard perimeter, completely boxing in the Military unit.
Amidst the resentful, furious glares of the Army soldiers, Coulson smiled politely and shook his head. The negotiation was over. The matter was settled.
When Coulson limped back to Shalltear's side, the atmosphere had shifted entirely.
Before Coulson could speak, Shalltear—who had already dispelled her Blood Valkyrie armor and changed back into her beloved, frilly Gothic Lolita dress—spoke first.
"I am the Guardian of the First to Third Floors of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Shalltear Bloodfallen," she announced, her tone surprisingly polite. "Lord Ainz has already spoken to me about you. Now, I am taking this corpse back. You can do me this small favor, yes?"
Having unequipped her armor, Shalltear showed absolutely none of her previous, world-ending intimidation. To any ordinary observer, she looked just like a cute, harmless aristocratic girl.
Yet, Coulson knew this exact 'little girl' had just brutally pierced the heart of an ancient dragon that had brought New York to its knees.
Under Shalltear's expectant, crimson gaze, Coulson agreed to her terms without hesitation.
A heavy S.H.I.E.L.D. transport helicopter slowly descended into the clearing. The STRIKE agents very consciously, and very carefully, loaded Hebe Shikai's massive corpse onto the aircraft's cargo ramp.
However, shielded by the chaotic loading process and the swirling dust, a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical tech secretly swabbed a deep laceration on the corpse, securing a vital sample of Hebe's mutated flesh and blood into a cryogenic vial.
Sebas Tian, his suit torn but his posture as immaculate as ever, stepped onto the cargo ramp to personally escort the body.
Shalltear gave Coulson a polite, smiling wave before raising her hand.
[Tier 7 Magic: Greater Teleportation]
'I can finally be with Lord Ainz again!' Shalltear thought gleefully as the shimmering teleportation matrix enveloped her. 'Old woman, you don't stand a chance!'
In a flash of pure white light, the Bloody Valkyrie vanished from the ruins of New York.
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