Draudillon couldn't help but feel sorry for her General as Pulla silently stood, watching Buku conquer the war room like a man would watch his wife defiled by another, feeling nothing but pure fury. To Pulla, the war room was his sanctuary, his domain. For this space to be so carelessly invaded and taken over was akin to blasphemy, a denial of everything he had held dear and important.
Winged figures clad in plated armor, Draudillon assumed they were angels, delivered large mirrors through a gate, and set them up in a half circle on the tables previously used for regional maps, said maps having been placed aside earlier. The goddess rearranged the furniture as she saw fit, with only part of the room untouched being the central table with a detailed continental map displayed with markings of the latest updates from scouts and magicians.
Buku stood in the middle of it all, radiating eager anticipation. The goddess seemed barely able to contain herself since blood would soon be spilled in her name, her excitement palpable to everyone there. She was the only one present out of the delegation from Nazarick; the rest were preparing the castle wing allocated to the divine guests.
'She is not just taking upon the duties of Nazarick's military leader. It feels… it feels like she is the embodiment of war itself. How strange. Could it be that I am in the presence of a real god?' Draudillon internally mused. In the black book, there was some sort of deification ritual, but a mortal would simply shatter their soul and go mad from it.
Only greater beings like players or dragon lords could do such a feat, and even then only the most powerful could. From what her great-grandfather had told her, the dragon emperor had performed this ritual once, but it had failed for reasons unknown and greatly scared the strongest of all dragons, and thus, no one else had ever tried to become a god afterward. Yet here stood a player who had succeeded where the dragon emperor failed, having become more than the best this world had to offer. Perhaps it was the sign that the salvation of her people had finally come.
When the winged figures set the last mirror in place, their purpose was revealed. Buku waved her arm, and the smooth, reflective surfaces rippled in response. From displaying the very room they were in, the mirrors now displayed what Draudillon could only describe as invaluable information to any commander. Three mirrors revealed an aerial view of Rodissa, the approaching beastmen army, and the surrounding area for tactical maneuvers. The rest focused on various enemy leaders.
"What are these devices?" Pulla asked; his surprise was evident as he was brought out of his sulking mood by the revelation of such artifacts.
"Remote viewing mirrors, and before you ask, no, we can't sell or lend them as our supply is limited, and we have yet to figure out how to create them with materials found in this world," Buku responded without even glancing at the man. "But they will be left in this room for the duration of my stay, under heavy guard, of course."
The goddess pointed at the ceiling, and Draudillon saw spider-like creatures skittering around for the briefest of moments. What would happen to any would-be thief of these artifacts, she didn't want to imagine. There was something deeply unsettling about the idea of sapient spiders or insects in general. Few beastmen races were insects, and they were the most terrifying things any adventurer who had lived to tell the tale had encountered.
Her attention returned to the mirrors. At Buku's command, gates opened in front of the main gates of Rodissa, and creatures started pouring through. First were the angel-like flyers, hundreds of them. Then came heavily armored goblins, lizardmen, orcs, naga, and what looked like humans, a force of about three to four thousand if her estimate was correct, which, combined with the city's defenders, evened the numbers. Although beastmen were, on average, a lot stronger than humans, Draudillon trusted that a living embodiment of war would know what she was doing.
"Would you mind giving me your strategic plan so I can update our forces?" Pulla requested as he stepped near the goddess with a mage ready to send a message waiting by the door.
"Your forces will remain on the city wall and defend the city, should anything get past my army. As for my strategy, there is no need for one. My forces are immortal, and my brother's worshippers will remove any dangerous targets." Buku explained.
"Immortal? As in, they cannot be killed?" Pulla requested a clarification.
"No, they can be killed; they just come back. Just watch what those chosen by me are gifted with," Buku replied, grinning as she continued to stare at the mirror.
The beastmen, though mildly surprised, marched on. To them, magic was nothing new; some were even more magically gifted than humans and elves, and infighting was typical. The beastmen were far from a unified force, with multiple nations of essentially the same creatures constantly fighting each other in the eastern lands. There were rumors that humans or elves existed in the Far East, but nothing concrete as the wall of monster nations blocked all exploration, forcing all resources to be dedicated just to fighting them off.
Then, the two forces clashed, and it didn't seem that the goddess' army fared particularly well as the first row of defenders was quickly obliterated. Yet the rest fought on as their peers perished, and soon she saw why; true to the Buku's testimony, her forces didn't stay down. Emerging from the ground, previously slain warriors rose to rejoin the battle just behind their comrades, crashing into the enemy in unending waves and chipping away their strength. While each fallen beast-man weakened their armies, each fallen gifted warrior only introduced a fresh and unfatigued warrior in its place, their numbers unchanging.
'An immortal, unrelenting army. The gods do not even need to step in themselves.' Draudillon could see through the mirrors that the warriors didn't lose resolve through deaths; if anything, they grew more determined to succeed each time they rose, rising to the challenge. The sight inspired both great awe and immense dread. Should they turn around after defeating the beastmen and attack her people, the war would end in weeks at most, if not more likely days. As of now, her homeland was at the complete mercy of the New Gods.
And as if she needed more fear in her heart, the worshippers of murder simply teleported in among the enemy lines, attacking the officers and confirming that the Gods could assassinate anyone they wished. The leader of the beastmen army was stabbed by a blonde human woman who disabled the mighty lionman's limbs with complete disregard for his men, who proceeded to rip off a chunk of the beast's flesh bare-handedly before swallowing it whole, shouting something to the surrounding beastmen and making them cower in pure terror.
She couldn't blame them. As much as Draudillon despised beastmen, the sight of a human turning the tables and eating one of them alive didn't fill her heart with joy but instead plunged her into a primordial fear. Cerebrate and his team may have been bad people overall, but they were practically saints compared to this psychotic monster wearing human skin who worshipped murder itself. And this was just one of the goddess of war's worshippers; a dozen more appeared rampant on the battlefield, reaping lives and presenting heads.
The gods hadn't come just to help her. They had come to unleash the horrors of what awaited those who opposed them. For a brief moment, she considered just dropping to her knees and begging for her nation to join the Nazarick Empire then and there. She watched with mute horror as the woman mutilated the still-living lionman, with no beastman daring to interrupt her as she did so. Finally, she screamed something and drove the knife into the beast's heart, ending its misery.
The other leaders of the beastmen met similar fates, and soon, the attacking army descended into chaos and halted their advance. But that wasn't all; as if she hadn't seen enough, Shalltear, the daughter of the God of Murder, stepped into the battlefield and, within the blink of an eye, hunched over, twisting into a large-mouthed beast with razor-sharp teeth, becoming a carnage incarnate. Any beastman unfortunate enough to cross her path was instantly torn to shreds, dozens perishing in minutes.
Pulla was pale as snow at this point, the man's hands slightly shaking. But the goddess watched with pure, unadulterated joy as the grassland outside the city was painted red with blood. At this point, it wasn't a battle, just slaughter.
'This is madness. Those beasts surely deserve it, but I promised to reveal the secrets of wild magic to something even worse. What have I done?' Draudillon almost collapsed on the spot.
As if sensing her thoughts, Buku turned around and walked up to her with slow, deliberate steps like a predator stalking prey. The goddess was two full heads taller than her since she was still in her child form.
"Are you not enjoying the show?" Buku asked.
"It is…illuminating." Draudillon choked out.
"Let me tell you something about our leader, Emperor Ainz Ooal Gown. Do you know what the most valuable thing he possesses is?" Buku inquired, continuing before Draudillon could respond. "The most valuable thing he has is his word. If he gives someone a promise, the entirety of Nazarick will move to keep this promise."
"B-but he only promised that you and your brother would come to see what needs to be done," She stuttered.
"No, the deal you agreed upon is that we will deal with your problem in exchange for the knowledge you offer. And you are already thinking about how to get out of the deal." Buku's pitch dropped so slightly.
"No. You have my word-"
"Ah ah ah." Buku shook her finger in Draudillon's face, "You are not dealing with mortals here. It is time for you to decide where you stand. I can feel the passion of a warrior and the darkness of a murderer in your heart. I wonder if loyalty is there as well."
There was no going back. She knew it. She invited the new Gods. She made a deal with monsters, and she needed to see it through. Draudillon canceled the magic, altering her look, and grew back to her natural size, standing slightly taller than the goddess.
"Let's converse in private, shall we." She motioned at the door.
"You think the good general won't agree with what you will say?" Buku looked up with a slight smirk.
"There are things even he is not privy to," Draudillon replied while steeling her heart. It was hard not to show fear, and the goddess knew, of course, she knew she had all the cards at the moment.
"Please call for me if my input is needed, Your Majesty," Pulla announced, reading the situation before leaving the war room briskly.
"Is your word just as unbreakable as your Emperor's?" She inquired.
"We do not want to rule over ruins, you know. And competent administrators are not easy to find." Buku spoke slowly as she circled the queen.
"I am willing to pay any price for the safety and prosperity of my people. I always have been. You showed me what happens to those who oppose your kind. But I still need to see what fate awaits those who bend their knee."
"We are inherently powerful on our own, but do you know what gives us even more power?" Buku pauses for dramatic effect, "Worship. You saw my warriors. Not one of them was forced to be there. I am war, and mortal souls crave war, conflict, and triumph. But I am not the only god. You, my dear queen, can choose who you wish to worship the same as all your subjects. But I can already sense your choice. The desire to drop your facade and use these lovely claws to get your vengeance." Buku grabbed Dradillon's hand, slowly dragging her fingers over her sharp claw-like nails.
"Those who serve and worship us will be protected to live happy, fulfilling lives. Our goal is a happy, flourishing empire filled with adoring worshipers. All we ask for is devotion. You know I can just force you to your knees. I could just call Clementine, my brother's apostle, here to torture the secrets out of you. Your fear of her was palpable even if she wasn't here, but I won't do that. Do you want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because adoration cannot be forced. If all you want is for us to drive back the beastmen, I'll do it in a few weeks. Then you can give us the secrets of wild magic and rebuild your kingdom how you see fit, and our current deal ends. No hidden clauses, no leaving you vulnerable. Just what you asked for, and for what it is you offer us. But…"
"But you want my worship and the worship of my people," Draudillon stated rather than asked.
"Correct. The question is, where do you see your kingdom in the future?"
"I always had an option to end the war instantly, but I was unwilling to pay the price. The potency of wild magic is only eclipsed by its danger. Two million souls and the Beastmen Kingdom would cease to be."
"The nuclear option. Draudillon, it won't kill us. It didn't kill those players who nearly genocided the dragons; they were much weaker than us. But I see your point. So here is a deal. Join us, and you will administer your lands for as long as you choose to live if you can do so competently. In return, you and your people will be fully protected by us and allowed to thrive," Buku offered.
'Not much to gain and likely everything to lose if I reject her offer.' Draudillon took a long breath and dropped to one knee as an answer.
"You don't need to do that outside official events," Buku declared as she helped her newest subject up with a smile. "Welcome to the Nazarick Empire; you won't regret it."
Editing by Nich L and aidan_lo.
Proofreading by mfkz_rocker, fvvck, Sluethen, and aidan_lo.
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