Demon Kings' Plan (153) (Patreon)

If an ordinary person could get into the minds and communication networks of the Demon Kings at this moment, they would probably go crazy as they become inundated with the screams and the general commotion going on at the moment.

Panic, overwhelming panic, the kind that only the masters of worldly destinies who seemed like kings yesterday, were suddenly faced with the real and brutal world that shattered their self-image. That was what was going on among the Demon Kings at the moment.

Perhaps no supercomputer, except for the one amusing exception on the moon, could handle the swarm of thoughts, cries, and speculation that had consumed the Demon Kings.

However, comparing what’s going on right now to a supercomputer would not be correct, far from it, in fact. The machine's actions, no matter how chaotic they might seem to an outside observer, were aimed at a goal. The Demon Kings' thoughts, on the other hand, bore little resemblance to anything purposeful, although you couldn't say that there was nothing coherent in their panic.

Just one, one single thought prevailed in the hurricane of panic that is the minds and thoughts of the Demon Kings.

“How?!”

One question, to be more precise.

“HOW DID HE FOUND OUT WHAT WE’RE PLANNING?!”

The Demon Kings have only one thing that they feared, Solomon, their lord. How can you fear something when you are immortal? And how can you not fear the one person who can take away your immortality?

Well, with what they’ve learned, now there were two of them.

Everything began to change the moment they first encountered something so… strange. Unknowable, even.

It came as a great shock to them. A creature capable of fighting their Lord!? A mysterious enemy capable of killing immortals?! A Machiavellian genius waging war on their invincible, their all-powerful and all-knowing King!?

And they were the poor pawns standing in the front lines.

It was a sharp blow to their psyche. It was as if their confidence, their strength, and knowledge, their whole being had all been shattered in an instant. For the first time in their immortal lives, the Demon Kings were facing not with a ‘problem’ to be solved, but with a ‘danger’ directly pointed to their necks.

And yet it was not a fatal blow to them.

Even if their enemy was indeed as powerful, as dangerous as their King, it still couldn't destroy their faith in the power of their King. Indeed, it was a grievous blow to their very worldview, a blow to the very heart of their reality. And yet, by restraining their minds from contemplating the madness, from the collapse of their worldview, they were able to survive such a shock.

And to these Pillars, barely holding on to their foundation, they returned to the King, and found that he was going through the same thing they were going through.

Their powerful, invincible King had found their match. The sole pillar of their existence had retreated.

Perhaps, ironically, it was even more of a shocking experience for their King than it was for the Demon Kings.

The Demon Kings always had before them the example of the invincible, all-powerful, and all-knowing leader. But Solomon could never look at himself that way, through the eyes of his followers.

For him, to face something like Ainz was perhaps an even more unbelievable event than for the Demon Kings.

An equal, possessing a strength equal to him, an intelligence equal to him…

And Solomon, the invincible King, facing such an adversary… Retreated.

Centuries of planning and hundreds and thousands of plans later, Solomon, on his first participation in his great plan… Retreated.

He returned to his temple and, for the first time in perhaps ever, sank into a deep reflection.

For the first time in his life, he faced someone that was his equal, and Solomon could not afford his usual tactics.

He was not feeling melancholy as he waited and watched the uninteresting performance called ‘the destruction of the Singularities’. No, that ‘plan’ has already failed, so Solomon went back to where he first started.

Plans. Reflections. Preparation.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Solomon… wasn't sure of anything.

He couldn’t find anything about his enemy. Without it, he couldn’t reflect on his own capabilities And, lost in the darkness of doubt and uncertainty, he couldn’t prepare anything.

And with nothing in hand, Solomon returned to the most basic of steps. As every creator reviews their creation, Solomon inspected his plan. Repeated each of its steps from the beginning, studying each step, analyzing it to see where it had faltered, to achieve victory.

Not a snap of the fingers that solves all problems by the power of the King, but the so unusual method  for Solomon, the method called ‘trial and error’.

The entire Singularity of America was to be used for such an endeavor.

And if the question had been ‘what is the trap in the Singularity’, the answer would have been that ‘there is no trap’. And that was the trap.

The trap that he had devised for his equal, was that there was no ‘trap’.

The Singularity was not designed for the purpose of fooling and then destroying Ainz, no. If even Solomon had retreated, what chance does anything weaker than him could accomplish? No, the rules of the game have changed.

The Singularity was created with the sole purpose to study Ainz.

No Servants were under the control of the Demon Kings. No plans were laid by the Demon Kings. The entire Singularity was created out of that calculation.

To see how Ainz operates under such conditions. Which side would he support? How would he have reacted to such a drastic change in the paradigm? How would he look for the trails of the Demon Kings when there’s none?

A few dozen Demon Kings were brought into the Singularity as a kind of sacrifice, given away as tribute. Though, of course, it isn’t as if they were going to simply wash their neck and wait for their execution, no, the stage has to be set after all.

They did it with the lightest of touches, a bare whisper in the wind to create the stand-off. All without affecting the minds and actions of the Servants, then when the stage is set, they retreat to the background keeping themselves as quiet as possible.

The entire Singularity was created as a place to study Ainz, his Servants, his actions, anything that would give any, even the most ghostly chance to understand him, and finally how to defeat him.

That was why the Demon Kings were panicking out of their mind.

Each Demon King had concealed his power to such an extent that it was virtually impossible to distinguish them from ordinary humans. Even the King himself could glance at them without noticing anything remarkable.

And, even after doing such a thing, they were so easily found!? And so quickly!? How?!

How could their identity have been so easily uncovered!? They left no trails, so how have they been discovered?!

There was no time for the King's temple to lend their assistance, and so the preparations, the plan, the setting up of the nets that had taken so long to create, were all done by the Demon Kings. And now, to see all that effort wasted, one could understand why the Demon Kings were in such a frenzy…  It took less than a day!

It was impossible, but at the same time, it did show the truth of the matter. That their King did not call this enemy his equal for nothing.

A prospect that had brought such chaos to the minds of the normally unflappable beings. Questions and accusations alike were shouted at the aether.

How did he break through their web?! How could it have been done in just the few hours that Ainz had been in Singularity?!

Horror, fear, panic gripped the minds of the Demon Kings, their minds were in turmoil.

What were they supposed to do now?! Attack?! Run?! Just hand over the Singularity, hoping that it would save them from retaliation?

And when there was only a fraction left until the Demon Kings fall into the abyss of madness, their King, Solomon's voice, resounded.

“Do nothing.”

And for the first time, the Demon Kings became afraid.

“Your mission has not changed. Continue your observation.”

Had madness… had madness consumed their King?

Were they now doomed, sacrificed to Ainz?!

But before, for the first time, in the mind of the Demon Kings allowed a thought so alien and insane as ‘disobedience’, the King's second remark dispelled it.

“If you are still alive, then that means that he has decided not to kill you.”

What their King had concluded reached every mind of the Demon Kings, making them freeze.

“The speed of his understanding is amazing, perhaps, I shouldn't have expected anything less from a worthy enemy. And yet, if he not only doesn't kill you, but even informs you of such critical information as that he knows of your presence, well, that leaves only one realistic reason…”

The Demon Kings were silent, awaiting Solomon's verdict.

“He's playing with us… No, with me. He is showing that he is not afraid of my actions, nor of my understanding, nor of my knowledge. Should I take this as a challenge?”

After these words, a thought flashed through the multitude of Demon Kings that did not belong to them. But at the same time, it was so strange that it could in no way belong to Solomon either.

It couldn't have been…

A sneer. Why would their King have such an emotion?

“I should have expected nothing less from my enemy.”

The Demon Kings had nothing to say, each of them waiting for their new order.

“Go back to what you were doing before, continue your observation of him and his Servants. Though…”

Solomon paused, pondering his words before uttering his last thought.

“Still, be polite and keep your observation secret. Even if he already knows about you, no need to be impolite and ruin the game.”

***

Ainz was gripped by a strange feeling as he finished talking to the Servants, as if he was expecting that his words to Medea and Tesla would suddenly trigger something. Some kind of result, some kind of change in the world.

But there was no such thing.

Continuing to walk through the streets of the city, Ainz encountered nothing unusual in his path, his main adversaries in this Singularity did not suddenly descend upon him. It seemed as if nothing had happened…

Although, what was he expecting! Of course, nothing happened!

The suppression of emotion saved Ainz from punching himself in the face as he was faced with great embarrassment.

What was he thinking, telling Medea and Tesla that he had figured out this Singularity! What was he thinking!

Of course nothing would happen, all the previous times that it had worked, it wasn't because his words suddenly solved all the problems. No, even worse than that! He simply appropriated the fruits of other people's work, other people's plans for himself! Of course, how could he ever think that his words would have any effect on the situation in this Singularity!

Ainz felt like banging his head against something hard, but the suppression of emotion and the realization that his suppression of damage would prevent him from damaging himself anyway, made him sigh. With nothing else to do, Ainz decided to take a look at where he had found himself

It was just an unremarkable street, ha… What did he expect? That he'd accidentally run into the Demon King!?

Some guy next to Ainz, when he ran his gaze over him, gulped nervously and took a step to the side, giving him way…

Great, he also started scaring normal people with his behavior!

Ainz sighed mournfully as he hurried forward, trying to get away from this street as quickly as possible.

In this endeavor, the Demon King Aamon, who almost pissed his pants in fear as someone that even his King regards carefully stared at him, could only support him.

***

Medea sincerely tried to figure out exactly what was going on in Singularity at the moment, analyze any secret signs or hints that could be picked up in the few hours she had spent in this world and… She couldn't find even the slightest hint of what Ainz might have figured out.

Cu Chulainn Alter and Medb? One of their Servants? Was it about the obscure Kingdom that emerged in the midst of a nuclear war-ravaged United States?

No, it was all certainly strange, as the altered history of the unreal world was supposed to be, but it didn't add up in any way into a coherent finding.

Or, more accurately, one conclusion does, but more in the sense that the Servants simply appeared by chance and began trying to solve their own problems, created by the Singularity. Edison was simply trying to destroy the Servants opposing him. Cu Chulainn was just sluggishly fighting back, preserving his strength and excitement for a final battle. And the third side of the conflict, the free Servants, just wanted to end this madness in any way possible.

One could argue that this particular lack of suspicious activities was proof that the Demon Kings were involved somehow. But such a conclusion didn't fit into the picture the Singularity painted, either!

The Demon Kings were definitely here, the Servants in the Singularity were able to confirm that fact at least. Furthermore, having two sides of Servants fighting was almost standard procedure now. And the fact that they’re fighting openly, to destroy the enemy, and yet are still in a stalemate and that was suspicious, because it should have indicated Demon Kings’ interference…

And in that case, what was the point of revealing the presence of Demon Kings in the founding of the faction if their very presence prevented Ainz and the Servants from joining one of the camps?

Or was that just to make sure that Ainz joins a third party, and the Demon Kings' secret plan was to do just that? To force Ainz into a certain location to enact some kind of special trap that was supposed to work against Ainz?

In that case, Scáthach’s attack didn't really fit with the idea of ‘inducing Ainz to cooperate’ with her faction. Or was that just a ruse? To lull Ainz into a false sense of safety, making him focus on Scáthach’s suspicion against him that was supposed to make the situation more plausible and less suspicious?!

Medea had always prided herself on her intelligence, able to work with the most complex magic and understand even divine intrigue. But, such theory crafting of who is the enemy and who she can trust, bordering on paranoia, was not her area of expertise.

And so there was no way she could solve the mystery in this Singularity…

Something which apparently Ainz had not only grasped, but unraveled in less time than it took Medea to figure out that the Singularity was strange!

And so, if before, Medea's interest had been primarily due to the strange magic and enormous power Ainz possessed, this time, Medea was shocked at Ainz’s wisdom, with experience in intrigue probably greater than Medea herself had experience in magic… And Medea had a hell of a lot of experience in magic!

“Caster?” Trying to at least keep Medea's name a secret for decency, Mashu turned towards the silent Medea, “Are you sure you won't be ordering anything?”

Medea blinked, and then looked around her. It seems that while she was deep in thought, she had completely stopped paying attention to her surroundings, forgetting where she was.

The place she was in could only loosely be called a ‘restaurant’, with the mild aesthetics of a medieval tavern as it might be imagined by modern people. Some flags were flying near the ceiling, and some swords were hanging on the wall. Only as a decoration, as even to Medea's lack of experience in the matter of swords, it looked more like a ceremonial sword of some officer from the modern, relative to this Singularity at least, army.

Oh, that’s right, in her stupor she seemed to have agreed to stop somewhere for a bite to eat.

She doesn’t know exactly where she is, she had lost all attention to her surroundings when she was immersed in her thoughts.

However, Medea cared little about ordering food, except, perhaps, for one thing: wine. And at least two bottles of them as she gave the order to Mashu.

Mashu blinked at what Medea was asking, before simply shrugging and nodding. “Speaking of how to pay for the order…”

Medea grimaced for a moment, she had forgotten that they don’t have any. She'd probably have to charm the local tavern keeper and muddle their minds a little to make them think the two Servants had paid them. Mashu cut that line of thought abruptly, “Don't worry, Master had given us some.”

Medea blinked, had she missed Ainz's appearance during her contemplation? Before she could think about it some more she remembered something. Teleportation, of course.

Though, where did Ainz find some local currency? Where could Ainz get that from? One could only hope that he hadn't killed a few dozen local rich people for money.

And if he had, at least that he hadn't raised the dead as undead, lest her forget what necromancers were capable of.

And while Medea had some knowledge in the field of Necromancy, appropriate for her status, she even considered herself a pretty decent Necromancer. The dark rituals in general were not worth mentioning, let alone performing on humans.

Back to Ainz's enigmatic self, though. Who knows what he did and the reasons he did them? After all that had transpired, Medea was getting tired of wondering. So, if Ainz had said that the money was from the deposit of old Wild West money he had simply because he had once been the designer of it, Medea would have accepted that explanation.

As she waited for her order to arrive, Medea took another look around the place where she had found herself. The tavern had a few tables strewn around, empty, there were chefs and waiters bustling somewhere in the distance, and… there was someone approaching them?

“Two distinguished misses, may I ask for a little of your time on this pleasant day?” A middle-aged man with a pleasant smile approached the table where Medea and Mashu were sitting.

Mashu, of course, did not have time to say anything before Medea answered for the both of them. “We are not looking for company.”

“Oh, I’m not approaching with ill intent, it won’t even take long,” The man with the unremarkable appearance sighed, “You see, I am but a simple journalist covering the events happening in our Kingdom. And, looking at the both of you, I could not help but notice that your clothes looked nothing like the locals. You have come from afar, haven't you? Could you help me with my article?”

Hearing the unremarkable man’s words, Medea sighed. Sure, her cloak, like Mashu's armor, definitely stands out against the everyday clothing of the locals, not to mention the peculiarities of the two Servants. But, that didn't mean she wanted to communicate with some local journalists in any way.

Hmm, it is strange though. Did the newspaper of the Wild West have such kinds of articles? Still, given the presence of Servants' from more modern times and their influence, such incongruence was the least strange thing that was happening in this Singularity.

However, since  Medea was silent, it gave Mashu the opportunity to interject, “I think I might be able to answer a few questions…”

Medea glanced at the excited Mashu, the poor girl was curious about the strangest things. But, reasoning that if Mashu does distract the journalist's attention, Medea will be given the opportunity to sink back into her thoughts.

Seeing no harm done, Medea was once again immersed in her thoughts, waiting for her wine.

Demon King Agares only smiled pleasantly, as he took a seat next to the strangely nervous Servant, “Well, in that case, could you tell me your name, young girl?”

***

Tesla sincerely wanted to know from Ainz how he should have reacted to Edison's proposal. The most logical thing to do, especially considering that Ainz had already figured out the trap of this Singularity. But, instead of a clear answer, he just gave him a somewhat strange order. For him to ‘do as you see fit’, before cutting off the connection.

For a moment Tesla was interested in dissecting the words and decisions of the Master, but the presence of Edison, still awaiting his answer, forced him to halt such thoughts to make a decision. “Well, fine, I'll try to help you. My genius should be enough to counter your idiocy.”

Edison, refraining from even jabbing Tesla for his words, nodded slowly, then quickly shook Tesla's hand.

After the handshake, and confirming Tesla’s cooperation, the mask of politeness was soon dropped, “Now get out. You can go and take care of the pigeons or whatever you do, I'll summon you if I need something.”

“Fine, I could see that you could no longer hold on to your perversions, just, don't ask me to wear any fur suits, I don’t swing that way.” Tesla sniped one last time before taking a step out of the office, saving himself from further interacting with Edison and, perhaps, of his strange fetishes.

However, no sooner had Tesla exited the room and thought about what he needed to do when a voice caught his attention. It was quite high-pitched and loud, clearly belonging to a girl, a rather young one at that, which meant little among Servants.

Turning around, Tesla saw only the top of the girl’s head before he shifted his gaze down to find the short Servant in front of him.

The speaker was a girl of short stature, with very, very youthful features. She has short pink hair that ends above her shoulders, and clothes so scandalous that Tesla could hear the police sirens for even looking at such a thing.

What was she wearing!? It couldn't even be called a dress! And not only that! The girl, even with a gracious estimate, could not be older than sixteen at best. Though if one were honest, then no one would say that she was older than thirteen.

Her dress bared her shoulders, that made Tesla wary he might see a cleavage that he really did not want to see, but it also was paired with a very modest skirt, that barely even covered her waist! And the skirt itself didn't hide the things it was supposed to hide at all! In fact, is that her pan… Gah, abort, abort!

Considering that she was wearing boots, with what seemed to be made of leather, and stockings that rose well above her knees, Tesla really felt like he just shouldn't have been looking at something like that!

Thank all the gods, in which Tesla certainly did not believe in, that on the shoulders of the girl, rested a large cape, clearly much larger than necessary, quite complementary to the peculiar cap on her head.

Curses to his mind’s capability to categorize things! He really didn’t want anyone to think that he’s a pervert if anyone was reading his mind!

Instantly averting his gaze, Tesla coughed awkwardly to himself, before addressing the very dangerously dressed Servant. “Madam, could you… could you please put your cloak over yourself, please?”

At Tesla’s request, the servant, the very young-looking girl, only sighed, “I hate this body…”

After another second, hearing the rustling of clothes, Tesla still didn’t look back to see the Servant covering herself with her cloak. Tesla only turned around when the Servant started talking again. “Well, I already put on the stupid cloak. Anything else?”

“Ahem, probably not,” Tesla sighed, then, bringing his spirits and thoughts back to order, remembered that right now he was still a Servant, and held out his hand to her, as politeness demands of him. “Nikola Tesla, Archer.”

The girl reacted to the introduction calmly, accepted Tesla's hand, and then slowly nodded, “Helena. Helena Blavatsky, Caster.”

Tesla blinked.

Of course, the occult mystics of the nineteenth century were not part of his academic interests, but he still had some information about the Servant opposite him.

Helena Blavatsky, occult scholar, powerful magician, and supposedly half-mad in her theories even by the standards of Magus. The creator of golems, the founder of Theosophy, the seeker of Mahatma, and perhaps one of the rare mages who had come into contact with the Root. Or perhaps not. As one could understand from the fact that even among mages, a society not particularly known for their prudence, Elena still stood out as insane. So, it was impossible to determine the truth about whether she had really come into contact with the Root.

And the peculiarities of Helena's body in no way make that any clearer.

Tesla slowly shifted his gaze to Caster's face, causing her to raise one eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No, it's just that, if you're not offended, I have a question… Madam,” Tesla added the last part with some doubt as he looked at the very youthful Helena's face. Calling someone ‘madam’ when they looked no older than a schoolgirl, and not even from high school, was really difficult.

“I don't want to talk about why I got this body,” Blavatsky answered instantly, then gave Tesla a look that made it clear that she did not want further discussion, “Anything else?”

“No, nothing,” Tesla sighed, then shook his head “In any case, madam, how can I help you?”

“For me personally, maybe only as an interlocutor,” Caster glanced over at Tesla, “Edison wanted me to do the introductions, especially since you wouldn't have agreed to the little “field trip” from him yourself.”

Tesla shuddered for a moment as he pictured himself walking around with Edison and enduring his presence for another hour or two, then nodded quickly.

“Well, in that case I suggest not to be distracted,” Helena added, and then turned around on the spot and quickly walked away, “Hurry up, so we will have more time.”

At these words Tesla only nodded, walking away from the administration building to somewhere in the direction of, apparently, the local laboratory, asking a question that interested him on the way. “More time for what?”

Blavatsky paused for the first time in their interaction and before showing considerable emotion in her voice, “You know nothing of the greatness of the Mahatma and the Hierarchy! All the time that would not be spent wasted studying Edison's experiments could be spent studying the mystery of Shambhala!”

It was only at this point that Tesla realized that perhaps spending time with Helena might not be much better than spending time with Edison…

***

Geographic Handbook, Volume 4, page 312:

The perhaps strangely named Skull Island is an island in the Atlantic Ocean. With 84 kilometers of coastline and a stable climate, it was strange that the island never sports human habitation. Named after the natives' belief that the island was created by the power of a Bone God from an unstable world, it was perhaps one of the reasons as to why the tribe treats the island as somewhere dangerous.

Famous as the site of Soviet missiles emplacement prior to their redeployment to Cuba, and as the first place to prove the failure of the previous method of radioisotope dating. The island was made famous due to the fact that the island was dated as having been formed around the year 1650, which is virtually impossible for obvious reasons.

Currently, the island is in the possession of Spain, though it has no permanent population, except for the staff of the island's research laboratory of twelve people.

The previously mentioned Island’s erroneous dating strangeness and the presence of the laboratory has made the island a part of a minor conspiracy theory. The claims range from the occult to the macabre of human experimentation…

Handwritten note in the margins of the book:

And where else would they be conducted but in a place where the power of the God of Death is concentrated?