Chapter Eight

  There was, in Albedo’s mind, a certain value to novelty. Not unironically, it was because there was also value to routine. Routine let you do things easily, by rote, with ever diminishing effort. However, ‘novelty’ let you grow, incorporate new knowledge, and find out things, sometimes about yourself, that you did not previously know.

  And playing the role of the wife of a traveling merchant offered abundant novelty, as well as finding out things about herself that she was previously unaware of. Specifically… ‘I like haggling.’

  In all her studies of the books of the Supreme Beings in the Library of Ashurbanipal, her favorites were two fold. On the one hand, learning how to woo her beloved, and on the other, ‘bridal training’ the things she needed to know to properly prepare her to be a wife. Everything from the Naked Apron to ‘seeing through walls’ which was the book’s term for knowing the Lord’s routine so well that she was always prepared for everything. From when the coffee should be made to what he preferred to wear when going out.

  Even the more banal information on shopping for food was useful, but none of those books taught her about the skills she was now mastering at Demiurge’s side…

  “I can give you three coppers for that, or if you prefer to trade, a single sack of grain, they don’t grow grain in the next village, so that might get you five coppers if you wrangle it right…” The middle aged woman said, pointing at the metal spoon.

  “You say that,” Albedo retorted, “But I’m asking for six, so even if I can get that in grain, that’s less than what I want. If you want me to defer profit, you’ll need to offer two sacks of grain…”

  She looked out of the corner of her eye, Demiurge seemed to be enjoying himself in the same way, and he proved to be a natural.

  “...Yes this potion can cure anything, it’s all natural, organic, made with the finest ingredients, it’ll cure warts and help heal wounds, no folks it’s not magic,” he said while standing up on the wagon, he twirled his mustache and winked down at the villagers, “if it were, it would cost a hundred times what it does. Even as it is, why, the only reason I’m selling it so cheap is because I’m looking to settle down somewhere and don’t want any old stock weighing me down. My decision is your good fortune. Why, this stuff will help make the filthy clean and the ugly, pretty, and gents, it’ll even help you please the ladies!” He held the little vial of colored water in his hands and shook it around, “And before you ask, no you’re not finding this elsewhere, I looted this from some dead beastmen, evidently they used it to enhance their pleasure in some of the things beastmen do at night with beast women… but in humans, well, it does all that, and so much more… but I must caution males who would consume it, if your manhood is too great for it, you may feel slightly ill instead of having the desired effect.”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  The bidding war went on, and he used his bardic charms to chat people up about the mysterious demon that slaughtered beastmen like cattle.

  And with their questions, little details began to filter in, until it was time to rest for the night.

  Demiurge’s little vials of colored water sold out completely, they had more stock to sell at the next village, and a myriad of tiny details, including most importantly, a single hoofprint they insisted was made by their savior.

  But as they lay down in a separate room in the home of the village chief, Albedo had to ask. “That ‘potion’ you sold, what was it?”

  “Nothing special, some random herbs mixed with a bit of spider venom and coloring dye.” Demiurge chuckled, and Albedo looked up at the ceiling.

  “Humans can be dim, but won’t they realize when they try it that it doesn’t work?” She asked, and Demiurge folded his hands beneath his head, crossed his ankles, and looked up at the ceiling too.

  “Perhaps.” Demiurge answered. “But,” a cruel smile spread over his lips, “the men will drink it, and every one of them will boast about how sick they got. Any actual erectile benefit is entirely coincidental.”

  “You truly are a wicked demon.” Albedo praised him with great sincerity, and he immediately acknowledged the compliment.

  “Thank you.” He answered, “But more importantly, did you gather any details other than that hoofprint?”

  “Trivialities, there are reports that he wore a hat, but I got mixed reports of what hat he wore. Some sound like the Ulbert we know, others… not.” Albedo answered, and Demiurge lay in silent thought.

  “Lord Ulbert.” He said, correcting her.

  Albedo was arrow quick in her retort, “Not if it isn’t he. Only the true supreme beings should be spoken of… and while we speak of this one, I can’t bring myself to say the title.”

  Demiurge accepted this with a silent acknowledgement.

  ‘My creator… is it really you?’ He wondered, that question haunted him far more than Albedo, so much so that it was only Lord Ainz’s warning to exercise the greatest caution that kept him from taking to the air and chasing down the source with all the speed he could muster.

  Even with that order, obedience was difficult. ‘If it were Peroroncino, I’m sure Shalltear would have already chased him down. But unlike that cute little idiot, I know better. My Lord is right, there were other supreme beings out there, less supreme than ours of course, but even so… such creatures could kill us, the servants of the greatest of all gods.’

  That would have been unthinkable, to go out, find a supreme being that was of the lesser supremacy, and then to die to it? ‘No. I will exercise caution, just as Lord Ainz wills it, until we’re ready to make contact up close. Once we can be sure it is neither a lookalike or mimic or worse… if there is worse…’

  Such thoughts were enough to keep anyone awake, and neither he nor Albedo really slept. Instead, they rose two hours before dawn, mounted their wagon, and rode on toward the next place one of the Supreme Beings of Nazarick might have been.