Chapter 39: A "Chance" Encounter
Sebas closed the door behind him and stepped inside. What greeted him was a deep, respectful bow.
Anyone from the dining room who had wandered in at that moment would have stared in disbelief. The woman bowing to receive him was the very person who had been shrieking hysterically not five minutes ago.
Her expression now was composed and unhurried — the kind of calm that made the earlier display feel like a switch she had simply flipped. Same face, same clothes; inside, an entirely different person.
There was one other oddity. Her left eye was closed. It had been open in the restaurant.
"There's no need to bow. You were only doing your part."
Sebas swept the room with a quick glance. The luggage had been gathered into a corner, stacked and ready. They could leave the moment it was loaded.
"I'll see to those myself."
"I couldn't possibly ask you to trouble yourself further, Sebas-sama."
The woman who raised her head was Solution Epsilon, one of the Pleiades battle maids, and she was shaking her head as she said it.
"Is that so? My role at present is your butler, after all." Something almost childlike moved across the lined face of Sebas — a mild, genuine mischief.
Feeling the warmth behind that smile, Solution's expression shifted for the first time, settling into something uncertain and a little touched. "That's true. Sebas-sama is my butler — but I'm also Sebas-sama's subordinate."
"...Well said. Then, as a superior issuing an order to a subordinate: your work is done for now. What follows is mine. Rest here until we depart."
"...Yes. Thank you."
"In that case, I'll go and say hello to Lady Shalltear, who is probably already at the carriage and rapidly exhausting what patience she started with, and let her know when we're ready."
Sebas took hold of the largest piece of luggage from the stacked pile with easy strength, then appeared to remember something. "By the way — has he moved as we anticipated?"
"Yes. Exactly as expected." Solution pressed a hand gently over her closed left eye.
"Fortunate."
"He is currently in a meeting with a slovenly-looking man."
"No need to go into detail now. I'm going to bring these down, so pull the key points together and tell me when I'm back."
"Understood."
Solution's face did something that had no business happening on a human face. The corners of her eyes dropped. The corners of her mouth curved up. It approximated a smile, but "contorted" was the more accurate word — a configuration that human facial structure should technically have been incapable of holding.
"— Sebas-sama. One more thing, if I may change the subject."
"What is it, Solution?"
"...After all this is over. Would it be all right if I disposed of that man myself?"
Sebas stroked his mustache with his free hand and thought a moment. "...Well — so long as Lady Shalltear gives her approval, I have no objection. He's yours to deal with."
A faint crease formed between Solution's brows — the disappointment of someone who had braced to argue harder. Sebas continued in a gentler tone: "You'll have no difficulty. Sending him along to you alone shouldn't be any problem at all."
"I see. Then please pass along my request to Lady Shalltear — if she's agreeable, I would very much like that man."
Solution smiled, openly and broadly, and the happiness in the expression was so completely unclouded that anyone looking at it would have found it disarming.
"And what has he said, exactly?"
"Something to the effect that he can't wait to have his way with me." Her smile widened slightly. "So I thought, since the opportunity has so kindly presented itself, I would take my time and enjoy him properly."
The warmth in it was entirely genuine. It had the quality of something looking forward to a good meal.
---
Four powerful horses drew the large carriage through the night well clear of the city walls, moving at an easy pace. The carriage was big enough for six people with room to spare. A full moon hung overhead. By any sensible measure, making carriage journeys after dark was foolish. The intelligent choice was lanterns, watchmen, and a camp.
The passengers were: Sebas, Solution beside him, Shalltear across from them, and two vampire brides flanking her on either side. Zack occupied the driver's seat.
The carriage jolted sharply. The horses screamed.
"...It seems we've stopped."
Ten large men had stepped out from the trees alongside the road and drawn themselves into a loose semicircle around the carriage. They were discussing how to divide their prize among themselves with the unhurried ease of men who already knew how the night ended.
The moment Zack jumped down from the driver's seat, he cut the reins, making sure the horses couldn't bolt. Then he trotted toward the men who had appeared.
As though in response to all of this, the carriage door slowly opened.
A beautiful woman stepped into the moonlight. The assembled bandits and hired men watched her with expressions that said everything about their intentions. One of them was startled rather than appreciative — Zack. He had never seen this woman, and the gap between who he had expected to emerge and who had actually appeared left him thoroughly confused.
Then a second woman in identical dress stepped out behind the first. Several of the men exchanged puzzled looks. Then a third emerged — silver-haired, red-eyed, young enough that calling her a girl would not have been inaccurate.
Hair like drawn silver wire caught the moonlight and gave it back. Eyes the deep color of red water carried a light in them that was difficult to look away from. Even the bandits could only stare.
Shalltear's face settled into a slow, indulgent smile. She walked toward the men without a shred of defensiveness, as though crossing a room at a party. "Gentlemen. How kind of you all to gather here for me. Now — which of you is in charge?"
She watched the bandits' eyes converge on one man among them, and noted that she had the only piece of information she needed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Oh, please forgive me. When I said 'negotiate,' that was only a small joke to draw out the one detail I required. My apologies."
"Just who are you people—"
Shalltear glanced toward where Zack was standing. "You would be the one called Zack. I'm handing you over to Solution as agreed, so would you mind stepping to the side for a moment?"
One of the bandits reached out and placed his hand on Shalltear's chest.
The hand dropped to the ground.
"I would prefer you not touch me with dirty hands."
The man stared at the end of his wrist for a full second before the scream caught up with him. Shalltear raised her hand in a small, casual motion, and his head came away from his shoulders. The blood that rushed from the stump moved as though it had somewhere it wanted to be, gathering above her head and drawing itself into a perfect sphere.
"A spellcaster!"
Shalltear swept her gaze across the panicking men with an expression of thorough boredom. "How dull. The rest is yours."
The two vampire brides stepped forward together. One of them drove a fist into the face of a bandit who had charged at Shalltear with a drawn sword. He left the ground.
There was a sound like an overfilled balloon detonating. The bandit completed a spectacular arc through the air. More than half his head was no longer present on his person.
Zack watched this from a fixed point, his hand reaching inside his coat to find the short sword hidden there. What had he gotten himself into? He had never for a single moment considered trying to do anything to creatures like these.
While that thought was still forming —
"Mr. Zack. Come over here."
A voice reached him from behind, unhurried and easy, belonging to an entirely different sort of evening. Zack turned.
His employer was standing there.
"What are those things?" The pitch of his voice had abandoned him. "If you had monsters like that with you, why didn't anyone say so?"
Fear and something like outrage sent Zack's hand shooting out. He grabbed Solution's collar and shook her back and forth.
"...I understand. Come this way."
"You — are you going to help me?"
"No. I want to enjoy you properly before it's too late."
A cool white hand closed around his wrist, and Solution walked forward, pulling him with her.
On the far side of the carriage, out of sight of the others, Solution let the clothes slip from her body and pressed forward bare. Zack's hand moved without thinking. His grip closed around her — and his hand sank in. Not metaphorically. His hand sank, literally, into her body.
"What — what is this?!"
He shouted and yanked back. The arm didn't move. The pull was in the other direction, drawing him further. Solution watched him with those composed, undisturbed features, her gaze carrying a cold, unhurried, genuinely curious interest.
Zack's free fist swung into her face with everything he had. The sensation was something between hitting water and striking a soft bag — no solidity, no bone, no resistance. Not even an impact.
Understanding reached him.
The woman standing bare-shouldered in front of him was a monster too.
"Have you worked it out? Then the real entertainment can begin."
Pain like hundreds of needles drove up from the arm that had been absorbed.
"I'm dissolving your hand."
Zack wrenched the short sword from his coat and drove it into Solution's face. It might as well have gone into the surface of a lake. With the blade sunk to the hilt in her face, Solution spoke quietly: "I'm sorry — I have a natural resistance to physical attacks, so that won't cause any damage."
A sharp, acrid smell reached him. Within seconds the blade had been eaten through, and what remained of the sword slid out of her face.
"What are you?"
"A predatory slime. We're running short on time, so I'm afraid I need to swallow you now."
His arm was drawn inward with a force nothing human could resist. The arm. The shoulder. One after another.
"Stop, stop, stop! Spare me, please!"
"Lilia!"
He called one last name. Then his face went into Solution's body after his shoulders, and the rest of him followed.
---
It was over in a few minutes. Not a single person left standing. Shalltear snapped her fingers and the vampire brides drained the last survivor.
Solution walked back from the direction of the carriage. Without warning, a rotting arm thrust itself through her face — Zack's arm, still moving. She pressed it back inside and remarked cheerfully that she planned to let him enjoy himself in there for a full day.
"Predatory slimes are something else." Shalltear looked at her with genuine appreciation. "We should play together sometime."
"Of course. But where would you find the toys?"
"I thought I'd wait for someone to come trying to break in, catch them, and ask Ainz-sama to give them to me as a gift."
"Then please don't forget to include me when that happens. I want to absorb them to the chest and leave the rest sticking out."
Sebas's voice reached them from the driver's seat, where he had already replaced the cut reins. "Solution. Ready up here whenever you are."
Solution hurried back inside. Shalltear glanced up at Sebas. "Well then — we'll say our farewells here. I'm going to raid their base and see whether anyone there is sitting on information that might be of use to Ainz-sama."
"Your company has been a genuine pleasure, Lady Shalltear."
"How kind. Until we meet again in Nazarick."
The carriage rolled on through the moonlight, leaving the blood and the wreckage exactly where they lay, as though nothing had happened at all.
---
Some distance further down the road, a low, rhythmic thunder reached them from the trees ahead.
Sebas pulled the reins. The horses stopped.
A cavalry force came out of the dark — close to a hundred riders, each wearing electroplated mithril plate armor that caught the moonlight in dull silver flashes. They spread across the road and blocked the way forward.
A broad-shouldered, middle-aged man rode out from the group toward the carriage. An old scar crossed his face.
He pulled up and looked the carriage over from horseback, gaze moving across the plain, unmarked body of the vehicle before settling on Sebas. The old man's clothes were well-cut and his bearing was composed, but the livery of a butler and the white hair above it didn't rate particularly high in the horseman's estimation.
"Hey. Old man."
Germann's voice was rough, carrying the comfortable ease of someone accustomed to being the one asking the questions. He pressed his horse a half-step forward. The animal's breath reached Sebas's face.
"Middle of the night on this road. Where are you going? What's in the carriage?"
Sebas raised his head.
The lined face was without expression. Those pale grey eyes were perfectly still — no fear in them, no anger — looking back at the cavalryman with a quiet, level steadiness that neither deferred nor challenged.
The look made Germann uncomfortable in a way he couldn't quite place. His hand found his sword hilt without him thinking about it.
"Answer me!"
He swung down from the saddle, boots striking the road, and covered the distance to the carriage in a few long strides. His hand went for the curtain.
"Who's in there? Out."
Sebas didn't move. He only shifted slightly where he sat, placing himself between Germann's outstretched hand and the carriage curtain. The motion was easy and unhurried. Germann's hand stopped mid-reach, held at an angle it couldn't advance from.
"My good sir." Sebas's voice was low, but carried clearly. "The interior of this carriage belongs to my employer's private effects and is not for display. I ask for your consideration."
Germann's eyes narrowed. His hand stayed where it was, on the sword hilt.