Chapter 222 ~ Mighty Aid

Chapter 222 ~ Mighty Aid

Numerous spires ascending high as if to touch the blue sky above, each one rising to pin-like points at the peak.

The many towers stood high and proud as a testament to the wealth concentrated in this single building, and the power that went with it, looming like the shadow of a mountain to those who even came close to it. It was designed to make those who would come to meet with royalty feel small and insignificant.

However, Pandora’s Actor, the true son of Ainz Ooal Gown and the resident of the unconquerable Nazarick with all its otherworldly marvels and wonders that no mortals beyond its walls could even begin to imagine, thought nothing of it.

To him, at most, these arrogant humans looked like children at play with castles of sand. Incomparable.

He walked with his head held high, the tapping of his staff visibly sending shockwaves through the guards, the pair of them in full plate armor holding long halberds across their bodies and wearing long swords at their sides. But not the royal guard captain, whose steel resolve and heart were tempered through countless battles and ridicule.

The two guards reached for the tall, white and gold-gilded double doors at the same moment. They pulled, and the doors groaned their objection, but gave way before the royal guard captain and the honored guest of King Ramposa.

A long red carpet led straight to the heart of the palace. And as they tread it slowly, Pandora’s Actor could not help but notice the many paintings hung on the walls, depicting the likenesses of the Kings and Queens of the past, and their many children.

Below it, on the golden wooden frames of each painting, a little bronze plate indicated the date of their birth, rule, and death.

Pandora’s Actor looked at the paintings, noticing the resemblance of each pair of father and son; square jawed, muscular, and “heroic” in their mannerism and expression. Some, he noted, even seemed to puff their chest even more, as if trying to overcompensate for something.

So it was, all the wya to the last, where the painting of the current King Ramposa and his family showed something unique.

The second son bore very little resemblance to his father.

‘Curious. The eldest son inherited his physique. While the second son inherited his intellect, though nothing noteworthy.’

Pandora’s Actor considered. Having read the intelligence reports that Albedo and Demiurge had gathered, the second son was vastly superior in terms of intellect when compared to his elder brother. Though that was easy, considering how dysfunctional the first son’s brain was. To Pandora’s Actor, the second son was hardly remarkable.

The princess, however, was certainly interesting.

“This is as far as I can guide you, Gown-dono. I must return to my King’s side and welcome you from the other side. In fact, I should have not gone and welcomed you personally.”

“That is fine. Go be where you belong. I shall see you soon, Stronoff-dono.”

Pandora’s Actor waved his hand in a benevolent and kingly gesture.

Gazeff nodded deeply in place of a bow that he would’ve done if not for the two guards that came along. He turned, and left.

“Shall we proceed?”

“Yes, my lord!”

The guard Pandora’s Actor looked to straighten up, as if forced by the sheer charisma and majestic presence he exuded. Even the other guards similarly stiffened at his words, and they proceeded to the throne room.

Before long, they arrived at the large double doors where a herald stood in front of it.

A young man, barely past his teenagehood, it seems, dressed in white doublet and a black gold vest. There was a short dagger at his side, but his main instrument was a long brass horn held at the ready, resting on his right shoulder and held in his right hand.

“Name, my lord?”

The herald asked, his voice intentionally lowered to appear more mature than his true age, which was obvious.

“I am Ainz Ooal Gown, here at the invitation of King Ramposa.”

The herald lowered his head upon receiving his name. He turned to the door, opened it, and brought up the horn to be held by his left and right hands, brought the thin funnel to his lips, and blew.

The loud trumpeting announcement called the court’s attention to the door, in great mass. The dozens of courtiers ceased to converse and turned their eyes towards the entrance.

“Announcing, Ainz Ooal Gown! Guest of the King!”

The herald proclaimed in a ringing voice.

Pandora’s Actor approached with a slow, stately step befitting that not only of a noble, but a ruler, a monarch of his own domain.

Each step of his foot drew him closer. Each flutter of his outrageously expensive jet-black and gold embroidered cloak drew the gasp of amazement from the rich onlookers. And the staff of gold tapped over the marbled floor and was the only sound until he stood within courtesy distance of the king.

Ramposa sat on his throne, back straight and with a steady, serious look befitting a true king. Pandora’s Actor could a glimpse of the powerful and majestic warrior king he must’ve been in his youth who had now been reduced to an old, tired ruler with heavy weights on his shoulders and heart.

At his right hand stood Gazef Stronoff, clad in enchanted armor and bearing a great sword at his side.

Pandora’s Actor gave a slow and steady bow. The most courtesy he would ever give to a human, king or not.

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The long, silent hallway once again welcomed them as Pandora’s Actor walked, following Gazef’s lead to where the quarters the King had spared for him would be.

And when he was sure they were alone, Gazef did not delay anymore and began speaking.

“Thank you for coming, Lord Gown.”

Pandora’s Actor looked to the back of his figure in silence for a moment, before responding.

“You are welcome. However, I have a feeling this is more than just proper thanks and a reward as a show of gratitude, am I wrong?”

The royal guard captain kept his stern, stoic visage. However, having been scrutinizing him closely, Gazef failed to hide the hint of shame and the clenching of his jaw.

“No... No you are not. But please, when we are in your room.”

He whispered, and Pandora’s Actor went silent.

The rest of the walk was silent except for the sound of their feet and Gazef’s armor.

The luxurious display of paintings that sat at intervals between windows, depicting Re-Estize’s royal family in particular in their glorious moments throughout its centuries long history, continued on.

“A kingdom with a rich past.”

Pandora’s Actor said, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes... Yes it does. I love this country, and my King. We’ve survived great and terrible things and won our freedom from the Empire.”

“Really, Re-Estize was once part of Baharuth?”

“Yes, and we’ve had the same royal family since. But... times are hard now.”

Silence returned after a low grumble of agreement from Pandora’s Actor.

They soon came to a door, luxurious just like any other. The royal guard captain reached for the brass handle, opened it as a servant would, and stood aside, allowing Pandora’s Actor to duck under the arched door frame and enter.

“Times are hard because our nobles are selfish bastards. They keep the king weak, and so keep us weak to the Empire. Our war every year is bleeding us of our wealth and people. Peasants died by the thousands and many harvests went uncollected because the farmers took up swords instead of hoes and scythes.”

Gazef looked up to the supreme magic caster. His eyes firm and determined and locked onto Pandora’s Actor, as if capable of seeing the eyes of the great mage before him.

“You were right, Gown-dono. We need help. Mighty help. Your help.”

Words flow out of his mouth. Words that shouldn’t have been uttered by the most loyal servant of Re-Estize. But it did, like the milk that had been spilled over and continued to flow to the ground.

Then, before the great man that saved his life and the only hope he could think of with his dull mind, Gazef went down to one knee and bowed his head.

“You’ve saved a village because they were weak. You said that it was only common sense to do so. Please... Gown-dono. Save my kingdom the same way.”

Pandora’s Actor fell to silence, taking in the request.

It was the crudest and most direct of actions, far from the savvy political maneuvers that he sensed intended from most of the court.

But, he supposed it was to be expected from a warrior. Direct, to the point, and without games.

“...Out of all of those present in that throne room, I did not expect that you would be the one to surprise me, Stronoff-dono. I had to admit. I expected some attempt to harness my magic. But your directness still takes me aback.”

“I know. But my kingdom, my King, has no time for games. The annual war is going to take place in a matter of months, and when it does, thousands of my people will die. And many more, starve to death. Even though we will win, as we always do, we ultimately lose. We will be weaker and they will be stronger. All this war does is push my kingdom one step closer to its destruction.”

The kneeling royal guard captain tensed every rippling muscle, his head kept down, and his voice, graver than ever.

“It is shameful. That much I understand, even with my peasant background. But that is precisely why I must beg for your help a second time, despite my rank. Only a peasant like me could beg for this without disgracing my King.”

“...I will consider your request. However, you will forgive me for not giving you an immediate answer. It is not a matter I can decide right in this moment...”

“I can ask for nothing more. Hope is good enough for now, as it is more than I had this morning.”

Gazef raised up to his feat, and his eyes stared deep into the masked visage of his benefactor and the possible benefactor of his kingdom.

“Thank you, Gown-dono.”

He said and exited the room.