Chapter Sixty-Three

  The after wedding scene was one of drunkenness and debauchery, with wine flowing freely, only a few of the guests made their way ‘away’ from the scene. Albedo, chose to remain, her arms wrapped around Momonga’s body, she whispered into his ear as soon as she isolated him from all the others, “It’s not fair that you should have less delights than Lord Ulbert, right now he’s upstairs continuing the line of Supreme Beings… Master, beloved… you should be the first. You are the one who kept faith with us all those years, you have all the women of Nazarick to be the mothers of your children if you so desire.” Her soft hands clung to him, her thigh rubbed against his bones…

  “Albedo, control yourself.” He commanded, though without raising his voice, she held the cup of wine up beside her face, ready to offer him some with a kiss.

  For Ainz, it was as intoxicating as it was impossible, though when he looked through his ruby red eyes, it was obvious that for a rare moment, nobody was paying much attention to him. Jircniv was having a warm conversation with one of the court ladies of the Draconic Kingdom, the Masked Evangelist had fallen into a conversation with Renner on, from what he could tell, the subject of marriage…

  “Power is the ability to act, those without power can do nothing, those with power, know its limits by what they fear doing so much that they can’t do it. If a monarch has absolute power in their country, marrying a commoner is just an expression of their will. If they are too weak, and bound by their nobles, how secure is their throne really?”

  It was a strange thing to overhear, but then from what he recalled of Neia, it fit with her evolving notion of power and its uses, and it seemed to please the Princess to no end to have a justification for her to act on her desires.

  When he felt Albedo’s thigh tighten against his own, and inhaled that wondrous scent of lilac perfume, and heard her sultry whisper… Ainz had never so regretted choosing an undead character for himself.

  ‘I wonder how Ulbert is handling his first night as a married… demon?’ Ainz pondered, and began his struggle to politely disengage himself from the clinging virginal succubus.

  ‘I know she’s only one quarter dragon, but it seems she has the stamina of a whole one!’ Ulbert shouted in his head as the Queen drew out hidden depths of pleasure from his body that very well could have had a succubus saying, ‘Tone it down.’

  Whether it was the fact that they now had their promised union or whether it was the certainty of victory, when the bells tolled outside, and the crier’s voices echoed from every street corner in rapid succession…

  “The Draconic Empire is born! Under the reign of Demon Emperor Ulbert Alain Odle and Empress Draudillon Oriculus! Let it hereby be proclaimed that His Majesty the Demon Emperor is declared the eighth God in the pantheon, and the patron deity of our new empire!”

  The announcement had been timed to coincide with the hour of their union, and it was carried out from the steps of the palace to all the criers who would then spread out from the city. Officially sealed letters would go out that night to every city, and from those the word would spread to towns, and from there to villages.

  Along with those pronouncements came offers of land for settlers who would move east and reoccupy the territory lost to the beastmen over the last one hundred years and more.

  It was a great deal to celebrate, and in the morning after the drunken guests had recovered enough sobriety to enjoy a common meal, there would be the more serious business of drawing investment, settlers from surplus populations, and new trade agreements.

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  But for the moment there was another duty to perform, or perhaps a privilege to be exercised, and that was to ensure that the Kingdom would be stable for the next generation.

  It was only after the Demon Emperor Ulbert was drained as if he’d lain with a succubus that his new wife chose to converse with him. “Husband, do you intend to remain here in our Empire, or will you return to the place… Nazarick, that you called your home before?”

  She was lying on her side head resting in her palm and propped up at the elbow, the sheets rustled as she moved and she drummed her fingers on his chest, “I can hardly complain no matter what your choice, but before you answer, if it matters what my preference is, I would prefer to have you here.”

  Ulbert didn’t answer right away, it was strange enough to be told (by someone other than Momonga) that his presence was desired in the long term.

  “Nazarick will always be home for me.” He answered, and rolled onto his side to look into the eyes of his new wife. “But Ainz will understand. This is a great big world, a beautiful world… and I’m an Emperor now. It will be easier to work here, perhaps I could bring Demiurge over as an advisor… and besides, it’s as easy as using a [Gate] spell to go back and forth, I’m not even hours away, not even minutes, I’m three paces away at all times.”

  “So then does that mean you’ll stay here?” The Empress asked of her emperor, and he answered without delay…

  “Yes. But I will visit Nazarick often. If the others made it here as well, it’s only a matter of time before we find them. I think the others will start doing, well, no. Let me say it another way,” Ulbert cleared his throat, “I think others will realize the merits of a supremely powerful emperor and the union with another empire. In time, it may be enough to make peace with all of this world, and enough to turn it into a true utopia… a place very different from the other world.”

  “Perhaps.” Draudillon had her doubts about that, but she put those aside and reached for his manhood, finding him ready at her touch, she smirked at him when she squeezed her hand. “For now, my Emperor, let’s have a different sort of peace.” She said with a dusky voice, and he reached for her waist to endorse the idea in a coupling that would leave them late for breakfast the following day.

  Torald’s enjoyment of the wedding was true to his core, but he, unlike many of the others, went without much in the way of alcohol. There was too much to think about, specifically his promotion to the rank of Duke the following day. Inducing a hangover could wait, for now he had other things to think about. So though he enjoyed the music, the dancing, and the welcoming ‘introductions’ of houses there were now junior to his own in status and inevitably poorer than his own in wealth of land as well as a connection to the Emperor and Empress… his mind was more on his work.

  ‘I must make sure I protect the interests of my Lord at all costs…’ He told himself, and so while his lord made love to the Queen, Torald slipped quietly away as soon as possible to draw up a list of names to suggest as potential lords for new great houses. Some were men with titles already in some capacity, but minor ones so shrunken by the reduction in lands over the years that they might have nothing but a village, or even nothing at all but their military equipment. Some were not nobles by birth, but were mere squires who demonstrated exceptional courage, cunning, or skill.

  Torald’s noble lineage left him in a unique position, to see the best and worst of mankind. He thought of the peasant who defended a dying dog, and the knight who hid behind his men-at-arms whom he was meant to lead. He knew better than almost anyone that character was action, not birth, and what his Lord needed, what their Empire needed, was leaders of iron and incorruptible character… just as much as it needed some men without it… every now and then.

  ‘I wonder how far along the ruffians have gotten? Farther if they learned to work together than if they haven’t, that’s for sure.’ He snorted and scratched the quill along the paper as he chose another name out of many.

  ‘We’re on the verge of a whole new world here… and I am blessed to live to see it. When my God’s son is born, I vow that he will always have a teacher, always a protector, till there is nothing left of me to bar any danger to his life…’ Torald’s vows were a power all on their own, so long as it remained unfulfilled, he could, he would carry on. No matter how many times he had to die to make it happen.