Overlord And The Blue Citadel - Chapter 5

Neia sat across from the self-proclaimed God named Fenrir, her hands resting on the smooth top of a chestnut-colored table, large enough for just the two of them. About a dozen coins littered the table, her pouch sitting beside her hands.

The fireplace was lit, the window was frosted but slowly clearing as the interior of the room was heating up. It felt good to be out of the cold, though her cloak was rather wet and sticking to her shoulders. She ignored it for the time being.

Whether or not both names that he had given her were really his, she wasn’t sure, but that didn’t matter one iota. The one thing she did know, was that he was not human and was far more powerful than anyone she had ever seen before. He had created an entire world inside of a tower, he had created creatures and people she had never seen. Wolves, she never thought them any greater than a beastman, and yet here he was opposite from her with his hands clasped together in front of him.

The Slaine Theocracy had lost contact with them, and their only real outside connection was the Re-Estize Kingdom, but they aren’t much help. It appears that both Kingdoms were unstable.

The South didn’t respect the Holy Queen’s rule due to her being a woman. Remedios and her antics that she knew of as being unfit for leadership and only having been placed there because of talent.

She spoke of magic training and how Paladins needed a certain level of clerical skill. She even spoke of martial art skills, which to him seemed derived from the use of magic. These skills though made him curious.

Being a squire seemed to have been good for her at least, but he saw that it was a waste of her time. So much information, so much basic knowledge. It was almost as if she had been wasting her talents.

“So, you’ve never heard of YGGDRASIL, the world tree… Or Niflheim…” A light chuckle left his lips as he looked over the coin which was by his hand. She had told him a large number of things, mostly the history of the Northern and Southern regions of the Holy Kingdom.

“I am sorry, Fenrir-sama, I have no heard of these places. I can only assume they are as magnificent as your home here…” Her eyes trailed over to the frosted window momentarily before returning to him. “To think there was more than one world than our own on top of many other planes, it is just overwhelming. Would I be able to see the realm of the Gods? Is it waiting for you?” Her eyes were wide, excited, friendly and accepting despite their feral-looking nature.

Overall she was receiving things well, and she was trying her damnedest to remain calm. Still, the wonders he spoke of, a series of worlds where Gods waged war on one another was fascinating.

Neia though knew that she didn’t have much to offer in ways of information. Heck, she had little to offer in muscle or even ability and he was still talking to her. It was as if he was yearning for her presence more than just knowledge though. She only knew things about her world, and her world was small compared to that of others who traveled and even compared to his.

Since she was a child she always wanted to explore the world, go to other cities and meet other people. Her justice was protecting the weak, protecting humanity from those who wished to devour it.

She let out a soft sigh as she leaned back in her chair, looking over the much taller man who still towered over her even as they were both seated at the same table. He was even leaning forward in his chair towards her, but it did her no favors.

“Pfff….” Slowly deflating, her breath pushed her lip forward slightly as her eyes dropped to the tabletop ahead of her. She had given him all she knew.

“You feeling alright, girl?” Fenrir asked which immediately garnered her attention, not expecting someone so high and mighty to ask how she was feeling. “I can put more wood on the fire.” Gesturing towards the wall beside the mantle of the fireplace, was a long row of cut logs.

“Huh… Uh…” She clenched her jaw as if she was feeling guilty of worrying the supposed God which had taken her into the log cabin to get out of the cold. “N-no I’m fine,” she nodded lightly before she went to look out the window again.

The next thing she saw she wasn’t really sure what she was seeing, either way, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. A muscle figure with shriveled oxygen colored skin, nearly the color of ash was standing before the window. His head was bowed forward, out of sight, but she could tell.. He was more skeleton than flesh, but she saw no bone, but a creature with wings that looked to imitate an angel and yet it had a holy aura. Was it not undead? It looked to represent the waste disease often found on wildlife, or pestilence the embodied of sickness and decay.

She couldn’t move as it slowly lifts its head. His face was without visible eyeballs, but there were two floating sapphires within the blackened sockets. Sharp teeth littered his mouth, and his tongue looked like a giant worm, a puppet’s tongue.

She gulped heavily, wanted to scurry away from the window. Its wings were just as shriveled and decayed as its body that appeared to be almost filled with blackness entirely. Her eyes rested upon the halo which hovered just a foot above its head.

Was that an angel? What kind of angel is that? All she could do was stare, she couldn’t move, even as the creature eyed her with such curiosity and a strange sense of envy.

“Pelleon? It took you that long to find us here?” Despite hearing Fenrir speak with a chuckle to his voice, Neia could tell he was also disturbed by the appearance of the creature, but he appeared to know it.

Slowly but surely, Neia exhaled, an uncomfortably quick sense of safety coming over her as she knew it was a friendly, simply because he had called it by name.

“Ah… Master… Of the Citadel…” His toneless short and raspy voice faded in and could be heard in both of their ears as his speech seemed to travel through the cabin walls unhindered. “You… You.. have brought a guest… Into our humble abode… What is it’s purpose…? Do they hold your Arcane Mark…?”

“This is Neia, my Squire.” He gestured faintly towards the woman across from him. The creature was scary, even as it stood on one leg like a crane and kept its arms hugging his bare torso.

“Ah… Neia, a splendid name… For a Squire…” Its eyes traced over her apparel, she looked to be a Paladin and she had pride in that much to be seen. “Did you choose it yourself, Master…?”

“Her parents chose it,” Fenrir chuckled as he scratched the side of his head.

Neia was flushing in the face, not knowing why she was being referred to as an ‘it’ not once but twice. While in some way it had made her curious about what it really was, it was clear this thing saw her as lesser than itself.

That may be though because it was powerful, it saw her as nothing more than a pet for its master. It seemed she had a lot to prove to not only herself and him, but his followers as well.

“Fenrir-sama… If I may,” her eyes remained on Pelleon as she spoke, still taking his attention. In the following seconds, it seemed Fenrir had caught onto what she wanted to know.

“He is an Angel of the First Sphere, a Cherub, though his wounds and appearance aren’t as severe as they might seem. Each of his dead-looking shriveled feathers represents a wing. Pelleon is the Guardian of this particular level, he doesn’t have visitors often… Right, Pelleon?”

“…RIght… Master…”

Neia let her eyes slip-on back over to Fenrir with a light sigh escaping her lips.

“Unsettling, I know. Not the type of Angels you’re used to, am I right?” Fenrir had gotten a bit more comfortable, quite a bit more than he was before. She was able to keep a note of that as he was quickly adapting to the creature’s presence.

Why would a God such as himself fear one of his own followers? This question didn’t reach her lips, nor did she want to speak out loud, in case she was wrong… Insulting a god was nothing more than a swift death sentence, right?

Neia brought her lips into a small curved smile, nodding her head in agreement with the words he had said. Many of the angels that she had seen were only of the third or fourth tier, anything of the seventh was from the Slaine Theocracy and she had never seen those.

The fact that he had an Angel though in his service, meant that he had to be a God, no? This creature could speak for itself. It lacked the generic armored humanoid, it wasn’t wearing robes.

This Angel wasn’t summoned! It was created with a mind of its own, and even a name, which made her grow even more excited about just being here.

“How many angels do you have in your service?” Suddenly she went blurting out as she leaned into the table, she didn’t know what came over her, but he didn’t seem to restrain her curiosity at all. Her hands were grasping tightly on the edge of her end of the stand.

“Three Angels. Pelleon a Cherub, Nidrennyius an Ophan and Lucifael a Seraph. They are all members of the First Sphere, Lucifael standing on top of their hierarchy.” The way Fenrir explained it seemed almost natural, but strange. Their names rolled off his tongue with much familiarity, they surely had to be his creation, yes? “Speaking of which, since you are serving as my Squire, you must meet the Guardians.”

His eyes moved towards Pelleon before she could even part her lips to reply, “Collect Gravelyn on the first floor and have her arrange for Lucifael to bring our subordinates to the throne chamber.”

“Yes… Master…” Pelleon flashed out of existence having used his ability to teleport out of the area, and down the lower level of the Citadel in which they had originally come from. This left them alone in relative silence whilst excluding the sound of crackling flames.

“He… Vanished?” Neia blinked several times before rubbing her eyes at Angel’s sudden absence seconds after the order was given. The idea of such a creature teleporting frightened her, plus the fact that it had sat in the window for God knows how long and just watched them.

“Yes, he has free reign of the complex, as do many of the other Guardians, though they do have their posts.” As he crossed his arms and leaned back against his seat, his eyes traced over her.

Neia wasn’t ignorant of the gaze, though its meaning she couldn’t quite comprehend as he still seemed lost and needing of company. It was hard to understand, now that she found he had more talkative companions here before her arrival. Perhaps he had grown bored with his creations? No, that didn’t seem quite right. He could just create more, couldn’t he?

“Who is Gravelyn?” The inquiry was innocent, not quite fitting the name on anyone in particular.

“She is the Dragonoid you saw prior to coming here, the one that you held your breath upon seeing,” Fenrir hadn’t been oblivious of this fact at all. Though he did find it rather funny. “She is a Champion of Light and daughter of the late Sepulchure, an Ancient Dark Dragonoid.”

“An… An Ancient Dragonoid…?” She could only imagine if that was the girl’s true form, or if there was something even larger beneath. Perhaps she was correct on comparing her to the Dragon Queen? It was clear though, she was on a whole different level.

Fenrir nodded his head almost formally.

“That’s amazing, Fenrir-sama. I’ve never heard of such a thing and a Champion of Light?” Neia was far from surprised by the title, but it still kept her thoughts in an exciting tumble of motion. “A Holy Knight? Like our Paladin Order?”

Neia was wondering what kind of title Champion of Light entailed. It sounded important in a way that they were chosen by a god or deity. She was also curious about how she could be a Champion of light while being born from something of darkness.

Was she a living contradiction?
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What was she like?

Would she train her in the ways of a ‘true’ Paladin?

Was her name Gravelyn a play on words? How many people had she put down, killed and buried into a grave? The name itself seemed to have some sort of meaning to it that he presumably wasn’t going to explain.

“She can cast higher tier level magics than just about any human you’ve described. She’s a Paladin Grandmaster and a High Cleric… Except in comparison to your Paladin Order, her blades don’t break as easily, and she doesn’t trip her comrades in order to flee for her life.” Fenrir in a way disapproved of the comparison, seeing her people as cowards. He did not see her Paladins in anywhere near the true thing.

If they couldn’t stand up against his aura of fear, they would not be able to stand against his killer intent. Paladins that had nothing or no one to live for, and only sought Justice for themselves, were no Paladins at all.

“A Grandmaster?” The word reminded her of Remedios, a woman she detested for being able to become the leader of the organization she had dreamed of being apart of.

“She has the power to slaughter your entire Order singlehandedly if you’re wishing to understand how powerful she is…” His head slowly lulled to the side with a faint smile across his lips, his voice had been far too casual when stating that Gravelyn could destroy everything and everyone she knew.

Neia if she were willing to face him as an enemy, would’ve shat bricks upon hearing such a thing. However, if her country were to regain its lost glory since its continental isolation and continued corruption, she was sure someone like he himself was needed along with his followers.

There could be no denying how powerful he was already, making some of the bravest people in her Order to retreat. She wondered though, just how much could her parents have taken? Would they have run as well? Did that make them worthy of serving him? She wondered what his world views were, what this God wanted to accomplish.

A wolf had a pack mentality, these guardians perhaps were family to him. The one thing she did note though was the fact he didn’t use any honorifics with his companions of any kind. Yet they freely called him Master without using his actual name.

This made her curious as to how close they were, or in another case, how far apart they may truly be. Choosing to take a slightly more relaxed posture in the chair, her gaze engulfed him with her attention.

“In a short while, we will be joining the Floor Guardians in the Throne Room,” His eyes drifted over her cloak for a short few seconds before tapping his finger on the flat tabletop.

“Fenrir-sama?”

“You can remove the cloak, this can be your cabin if you wish, there is a low likelihood anyone would be able to get passed the Labrinyths below without a guide of sorts. Even then, they’d have to be let through.” In the way that he was speaking, he doubted the power of anyone under the level of thirty, but in reality, it was really around level eighty that a person would need.

Though coming to this floor would mean certain death unless they were level ninety or above. Based on the difficulty alone, the next levels going up needed several levels one hundred characters go get by. This was the primary reason why players didn’t get passed the fourth floor.

Neia was caught off guard by the assurance of being able to take off her cloak, as well as being offered this as a place for her to stay. While it might be isolating, her eyes trailed around the cabin.

There seemed to be a bedroom, a bathroom and where they were now seemed to be living quarters and dining rooms. It had everything a single person needed to meet any expected living standards. At the same not, not that it came to mind, but a home for a small couple.

“Pelleon-dono wouldn’t mind?” Neia asked as she turned to face him, fidging with the kite-shaped metal pendant on her cloak before pulling it off up and over her head. She then rested the item against the back of her chair.

“I doubt it, he might be moving down to the first floor. Gravelyn may be moving to the third floor, due to her preferences for plantlife and forestry.” He gave a slight yawn before leaning on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he elbow bent to support it.

With the cloak off, her shoulders and collarbone were partially visible as the collar was a wide oval outlined in blue like the rest of her white tunic. “Would I be able to get some of my things at some point, or will they be provided?”

“Your essentials, including clothing, will be provided. More facilities will be built in order to fit demand if necessary,” Jack assured her as there were plenty of floors within the citadel. “If this location is no longer suitable, you may be moved to another.”

Neia smiled a bit at this, flushing at the face as she was a little nervous now. “I see…”