Overlord: Crimson Sovereign

Chapter 10 — The Emperor's Gambit

E-Rantel Adventurer's Guild — Guildmaster Office

The morning sunlight filtered through frosted glass, illuminating the gold-trimmed envelope on Ainzach's desk like a relic. The seal—black wax emblazoned with the Imperial Sun of Baharuth—radiated quiet pressure.

Ainzach hadn't opened it yet.

Not because he feared its contents, but because he already knew what it was: a favor from Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix.

And favors from emperors were never free.

Finally, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside. The letter was written in crisp, flawless penmanship—formal, respectful, and loaded with subtext.

To the esteemed Guildmaster Ainzach of E-Rantel,

I extend cordial greetings on behalf of the Baharuth Empire and convey our admiration for the Adventurer's Guild's swift actions in restoring balance to the Western Wetlands.

We have encountered a matter of peculiar magical disruption near one of our northern border cities: Arwintar. Our Imperial Battlemage Division has reported anomalous mana currents, faint summoning echoes, and minor civilian disappearances. No hostile activity has been confirmed—yet.

As a gesture of trust and cooperation, I request that the Guild dispatch a seasoned individual to assist in a preliminary investigation. Naturally, the name of Rein was mentioned by my court mage as one worthy of such a task.

With sincere anticipation,

—Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix

Ainzach slowly lowered the letter.

"Naturally," he murmured.

The Emperor didn't order that Rein be sent. He requested it, buried beneath formalities. But the meaning was unmistakable:

"Send him. I want to see him up close."

He looked over to his side, where the Guild's diplomatic advisor, Magus Thonil, hovered nervously.

"Is it… real?" Thonil asked.

Ainzach nodded.

"Real enough. Jircniv wouldn't risk sending a false flag. And Fluder's behind this too."

"You think this is bait?"

"Not exactly," Ainzach said, leaning back in his chair. "It's curiosity. Interest. And a power check."

"But Rein isn't a guild pawn."

"No," Ainzach said. "He's his own."

He reached for a different parchment, already half-written—the next contract in Rein's queue.

Then he paused.

What would Rein say?

He doesn't care for politics. But he's always curious. Investigating arcane shifts? Definitely his domain. And it's an excuse to travel.

He tapped the desk once, then scribbled a note:

New Request Added – Classified Tier: Platinum

Client: Baharuth Empire (External)

Target Zone: Arwintar – North Border

Risk: Unknown Anomalous Magical Activity

Required Adventurer: Rein (Veilcaster)

Request justification: Arcane phenomena overlapping with known faultlines. Possible correlation with Western Wetlands incident.

Ainzach signed and sealed the request. He handed it to his assistant.

"Deliver it to Rein's residence. No urgency. But make sure he knows it came from the Emperor himself."

"And if he refuses?"

Ainzach smirked faintly.

"We do nothing. But I don't think he will refuse it, not with the benefits he will get."

Elsewhere — Imperial Palace, Arwintar

"Did he bite?" Jircniv asked, eyes narrowed as he toyed with a wine glass.

The attendant bowed. "The letter has been received. No rejection issued."

Jircniv leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Let's see what kind of monster we're dealing with."

Across the chamber, Fluder Paradyne stood in reverent silence. His ancient eyes gleamed.

"You truly believe he is comparable to you in terms of magical capabilities?" the Emperor asked.

"Oh no," Fluder whispered. "He's better. The way his magic tears through the weave—he doesn't use spells. He commands them."

"You sound like you're in love."

Fluder smiled softly.

"No, Your Majesty. I'm in awe."

**********

Rein's Residence – Morning Departure

The first rays of dawn stretched across the rooftops of E-Rantel as Rein stepped out, his robes lined with crimson thread trailing in his wake. By his side, ever silent and poised, walked Narberal Gamma—her long black hair fluttering beneath a silver-accented hood, her expression cold and unreadable.

"It's an insult," she said without preamble, golden eyes narrowing. "To request your presence like some hired servant. The emperor should grovel to have your gaze, not draft you for errands."

Rein gave a small sigh. "It's not about pride, Nabe. This is strategy. If I refuse, they press harder. If I accept, I choose how the game is played."

"Hmph. Vermin don't get to set the board."

They passed through the main gate, the Adventurer's Guild's crest gleaming in the early light. A guild courier approached cautiously with the request scroll and a teleport crystal.

"L-Lord Rein. Lady Narberal. This is for your assignment in Arwintar. The Guildmaster sends—"

Narberal's expression didn't change, but the courier flinched as if a blade had passed too close.

"You do not address Lord Rein like a market vendor," she said sharply. "Kneel, or vanish."

"Nabe," Rein said calmly.

Her glare didn't waver. "Yes, my lord."

Rein took the crystal and nodded to the courier, who wisely bolted. With a sigh, Rein turned to Narberal.

"We're not trying to start a war. Yet."

"Only waiting to finish one," she murmured.

With a shimmer of teleportation, they vanished.

*************

Imperial Capital — Arwintar Outskirts

The wind was crisp, brushing snow across the cobbled road leading to the imperial outpost.

A brilliant white glyph pulsed midair before unraveling into spiraling motes of light. From within stepped a pair—cloaked, calm, and composed.

Rein moved with effortless grace, his crimson-trimmed robes trailing like dusk itself. At his side walked a young woman clad in black and silver, her expression frozen somewhere between boredom and disdain.

Narberal Gamma.To the soldiers present, she was just his companion. But none dared to meet her gaze for long.

It was like staring at thunder behind glass.

"Th-they've arrived," a junior mage whispered, barely able to stand upright.

A decorated battlemage stepped forward, his words carefully measured.

"Welcome, Lord Rein… and companion. The Emperor awaits your presence. If you'd follow—"

"Your breath offends," Narberal said, flatly.

The battlemage blinked, confused.

Rein sighed inwardly.

Oh no. Not again.

Outwardly, he kept his tone level.

"Nabe."

"...My apologies, Lord Rein," she said without remorse, tone unchanged.

The battlemage stiffened, but said nothing.

Great, Rein thought. It's been five minutes and she's already threatened someone's lungs.

*********

Imperial Palace – High Chamber

From a tower window, Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix watched the duo approach the outer gate.

"They really travel alone," he muttered. "No escort, no party… just that woman."

Behind him, Fluder Paradyne leaned forward slightly.

"She's unusual. Not in spell structure—her aura is tightly concealed—but her temperament. Every report calls her terrifying."

"Terrifying?"

"A quiet sort of fury. Unflinching. And her magic… maybe even reaching 4-tier magic, perhaps. But still not conclusively."

Jircniv raised an eyebrow.

"You're uncertain?"

Fluder chuckled.

"For once, yes. The rumor about her seems to have been erased somehow; every witness can't remember".

"And how is her attitude towards Rein?"

"She worshipped him," Fluder said softly. "She defers to him completely. It's loyalty. Absolute."

*****************

Arwintar Embassy Quarters — That Night

The quarters were lavish. Imperial hospitality—velvet cushions, spell-insulated windows, and a fruit tray enchanted to stay fresh. A bottle of vintage wine sat on the sideboard, unopened.

Narberal stood near the door like a silent guardian, arms crossed.

"These decorations are gaudy," she muttered. "And these apples are probably poisoned."

Rein sat by the hearth, rubbing his temples.

Why did I forget to ask the Guild to leave her behind just once…?

He glanced at her. She was glaring at a fruit bowl.

Right. Because if I go alone, she'll kill someone anyway.

"Relax, Nabe. They're trying to impress us."

"It's insulting. Their offerings are beneath your station."

"We're in their palace. Try to at least pretend to care."

She turned slowly, golden eyes narrowed.

"I do care. I care that they're wasting your time."

He exhaled, leaning back.

Why is loyalty so exhausting when it comes with lightning bolts and murder threats?

"Nabe. Promise me. No electrocutions tonight."

"I make no promises I can't keep, my lord."

"That's… honest, at least."

****************

Next Morning – Imperial Balcony

"No traces yet," said the Mages assigned to them. "But the anomalies appear during pre-dawn hours."

Rein nodded.

Narberal simply stared, unblinking. The mage eventually excused himself, visibly sweating.

Once alone, Rein turned to her.

"You didn't even say anything."

"He was standing too close."

Rein pinched the bridge of his nose.

Why do I feel like I'm babysitting a living thunderstorm in heels?

He sighed.

"Alright, let's see what this anomaly really is. If it's serious, we'll act. If not… I'm billing the Empire for every wasted hour."

Narberal tilted her head.

"Shall I begin preparing an invoice… or a crater?"

***********

Certainly! Here's the complete continuation, now including Ainz's internal monologue where he realizes it's all a test orchestrated by Jircniv and Fluder:

Chapter 11 — The Stillborn Rift (Finalized Scene)

Arwintar – Northern Faultline Site | Pre-Dawn

The site was quiet.

Too quiet.

Rein stood atop the frost-covered ridge, overlooking the basin where ancient stones pulsed faintly beneath snow. The residual magic here was erratic, layered like fingerprints overlapping each other—summoning, distortion, planar interference… but none of it felt truly alive.

Behind him, Narberal stood in practiced stillness. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face, though she occasionally glanced at the imperials watching from behind their perimeter lines.

Rein let out a slow breath, then raised one hand.

No chant.

No flourish.

Only a whisper:

"[ Tier: Purging Veil of Severance]."

The magic expanded like an ocean's breath—silent, total, clean.

A shimmering veil of power pulsed outward, devouring the ambient distortions as if they were never there.

Snow melted. The air cleared. Every trace of instability across the entire valley blinked out.

It was surgical.

It was overwhelming.

It was deliberate.

Ainz slowly lowered his hand, his gaze still on the basin below.

In his mind, he murmured:

This wasn't about a magical anomaly. Not really.

He glanced toward the ridge, where Imperial observers pretended not to be stunned. One of the battlemages was pale, lips moving in silent disbelief.

Jircniv sends a formal letter asking for "help." He chooses a site just at the Empire's border, close enough for eyes to watch. And he makes sure Fluder is nearby.

Of course it's a test.

Rein didn't show his thoughts. His face remained passive, almost bored.

They want to measure me. Not by words. By spellwork. Range. Control. Reaction speed. Fluder probably begged for this chance to witness something firsthand. I suppose I can't blame them.

His crimson robes shifted slightly as the cold wind rolled through.

But next time… they should try a little harder. This was obvious.

He turned away, heading back up the ridge toward Narberal.

She followed without a word.

Imperial Palace – Scrying Tower

The scrying mirror fizzled, unable to hold the final image.

Jircniv stared at the fading mist on its surface, fingers clenched around the armrest of his chair.

"He knew," the Emperor said at last.

Fluder said nothing.

"That was a performance. He didn't investigate. He demonstrated. Just enough to be terrifying. No threat. No speeches. Just magic… as fact."

Fluder finally exhaled. "He purged a full leyline fault without damage. That shouldn't be possible at any magic below Fifth Tier."

Jircniv swallowed his frustration.

"He sent a message. Loud and clear."

Fluder smiled faintly.

"Indeed. He told us, 'I know what you're doing… and I let you do it.'"