At the center of E-Rantel lies a manor of grand proportion.
A semi-castle. Surrounded by walls and a moat. But despite it's size, it had never been truly tested. And by design, it was never truly meant to be tested.
In paper it was a reasonable expense. A fortress to house the Royal Family when needed and a last bastion for survivors. Allowing them to survive a sieg long enough for help to arrive.
But the resulting infrastructure showed other wise.
The walls were overgrown with vines and flowers. More decorative than functional. And by the cracks from which the vines had crawled into, it was clear that the integrity of the walls were already questionable.
The moat looked more like a canal. Filled with fishes and clean water.
And worst are the watch towers. Crumpled and by the looks of the tables and chairs adorned with luxurious sheets, it was more of a place to have their tea than to be manned by archers. Surrounded by bushes, flowers and waist high bricks... it was clear that it was left in disarray on purpose.
The only selling point was the castle and even still, it wasn't that impressive with it's clear lack of defensive design. Specially the overwhelming amount of glass windows that screamed like neon signs that says, "Breach Here!".
All in all, Momonga could see why Ainz liked the place. But also why his guardians greatly disapprove of it.
This wasn't a castle inside a fortress. It was a mansion half the size of one.
Momonga and Albedo walked trough the doors of the castle, escorted by half a dozen Warrior Troops. The two, remained ignorant of the men's caution, awe and fear.
This was after all, a Hero.
The title had resounded throughout the entire fortress city. A man who perfected Brain Unglaus' sword style and bested Gazef Stronoff, The Sword of the King.
But looking at the two, they seemed more like a loving couple than actual warriors.
Albedo walked with her arm wrapped around Momonga's elbow, while said man held his hand above hers.
The two spoke softly. Contrasting impeccably yet mixing beautifully with one another.
The woman herself, degraded the design and architecture. Questioning the tower's positions, the questionable integrity of the walls and the uselessness of the moat.
While the man, defended it by admiring the beauty. The vines, the flowers, the ruinous style that set a unique theme contrasting with the splendid manor, styled as a castle.
The two was so immersed in each other, that they barely noticed the bowing maids, the looks sent by the nobility that they passed through the halls of the castle. And the rather sultry clothes of various noble ladies, each vying for the Hero's attention.
This ignorance planted a deep wound to their pride, but the happiest of all remains to be Albedo.
She was far from ignorant to their attempts. And while her Lord isn't doing himself any favors with his actions. She deemed it appropriate.
With or without Nazarick, he is still the Supreme One in her eyes.
That, and admittedly, she liked how things are going. She could practical feel the envy graze her skin.
She could feel their greed, their lust, their anger, their futile attempts at gaining a foothold of attention to seperate them from each other. Directed at either her or her Lord.
But his attention, drowned down all worries.
His attention was focused, and singularly adhered to her. His eyes remained affixed to her eyes and she didn't dare look away.
It was appeasing, and gentle. Much like how his fingers would glide over hers. Moments and action filled with lingering desire, driven by curiosity, and hinted with lust.
Albedo had to stop herself from squirming every time his fingers would mix with hers. But nothing stopped her body from burning up, with heat crawling from her core to her toes and up to her face.
He desires her.
The feeling, alone screamed that. And while she hated the fact that his hesitation is driven by lingering disgust and resentment. A piece of her soothe her worries.
With time, his desire will grow. With effort, patience and constant acknowledgement of their respective wishes.
She hopes, it would one day grow into love.
After all, Yamaiko's teachings hadn't failed her before, it would not fail her now.
"Momonga-dono, Albedo-dono." greeted Gazef Stronoff, now wearing a steel plated armor. "This way."
Momonga acknowledge him with a nod while running his thumb over Albedo's knuckles who found the man's casual attitude rather disrespectful.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the King's chambers.
A spacious room nearly half the size of a hall. With wide sitting areas, surpsingly spartan decorations but with a four poster bed with thin white curtains.
Within the room were familiar faces Momonga had not thought he would be seeing so soon.
A blonde knightess with floating blades behind her and an impressionable sword made out of darkness, sprinkled with twinkling stars.
A giant muscle bound woman with a large Warhammer and an impressive full plate of armor.
Twin kunoichis, red and blue respectively.
And young white masked individual, wrapped in tattered red cloak.
'Blue Rose.' he thought.
"You've come."
The voice was heavy with both judgement and caution. But when Momonga turned to the source and found the King sitting next to the bed with a dressed body. He easily understood why.
Next to Ramposa was the dressed and preserved corpse of his daughter, but even then, his eyes caught the broken little girl at the foot of the bed.
A blue dress and accessories fitting a Princess. Adorned with a golden hair, cascading down her back and a pair of blue eyes, red rimmed with dried tears.
It was an expression that would broke the heart of many, but it was the feeling she gave off that made him realize the mistake, Albedo had confessed to.
Her blue eyes were dull and lifeless. Her smile, though imperceptible, was getting wider and wider. And from within her heart, he could feel a power stirring.
A seed that had been there, what was once lovingly cared for with soothing soil... is now being drowned by vile sludge and poisonous water.
Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself... the would be Witch of the Fallen Kingdom.
Time slowed for Momonga as his mind wandered to darker possibilities.
'Was this it?' he thought grimly. 'Was this her origin story? Was this why she became what she is. Aware of the Kingdom's corruption. Disillusioned regarding it's salvation?'
'Her obsession, and the maniacal desire for the Kingdom's destruction.'
To Momonga, this was the woman who knowingly fed the Empire means to strengthen itself, knowing that the Kingdom's nobility would not listen?
And openly allowed, the rising powers in the shadows with little to no challenge. Slowly but surely eroding the foundation of the Kingdom. All the while sending it's most noble enforcers on wild goose chases that achieve little.
To Momonga, it made sense where her darkness came. It was revenge and justification at the same time, a sense of freedom from the chains that binds her.
Momonga pictured the little Genius Princess, disillusioned and falling into despair.
Her saving grace was a sister who listened. One sole person who pursued her vision of a better future. Only for her to be murdered by the very people they had hoped to save.
The betrayal would see the fall of the Kingdom from within. And rise of an obsession over the one true loyal puppy that she could keep.
Criminal powers, openly operating with little difficulty. Lives destroyed. The title of nobility, eroded. And the pain of the commoners reaching a none fixable point.
Then the Empire comes, welcomed with open arms by the masses, while the Capital drowned in rebellion from the people.
It's first defenders, Eight Fingers. Knowing that there would be no place for them under the rule of the Bloody Emperor.
And at the height that they climbed, the higher they will fall.
He could already smell the blood flowing. Each beheading and public execution, strengthened The Emperor's hold over the hearts of Re-estize.
And the end comes with one final tally. Will the Emperor let her live? Or will she die all the same?
The last he imagined was her blood spilled with her precious puppy, dead atop her corpse. One even in the end, she held on tightly.
Momonga's mind kicked in. His eyes falling on the source of it all and unknowingly sending a message to his sole Guardian.
'[You were right Albedo, this was a mistake...]' Momonga thought while his eyes looked on morosely at the fallen princess.
—.—.—.—.—
The silence stretched to seconds, but neither the King nor anyone had the heart to stop it.
They had watched the duel. Beating Gazef Stronoff, not by some archaic sword style but by one they had seen used before. One Gazef once defeated in front of the Kingdom itself.
But while few tried to besmirch the Warrior Captain's integrity. Labelling his first victory against Brain Unglaus to be of luck rather than skill.
Those who saw the sheer difference, knew otherwise.
Momonga, didn't just use Brain Unglaus' swordstyle.
He actually defeated Gazef's 'Six Folds Flash of Light'.
This difference highlights the sheer gap between the blue haired swordsman and the Blue haired Hero.
But that didn't stop the rumors, specially those that are doing their best to downplay his strengths. If nothing else, those people became more desperate.
Momonga has dark hair but beneath the light, it shined blue like the sea. Blue hair that they easily matched with Brain's own. Add the swordstyle that many witnessed was rather incriminating how closely related they could be.
Despite his victory in the duel. Momonga was still losing reputation.
Already there were those who easily spread lies as a rumor.
That the Princess was set up.
That Brain Unglaus was said to have hired both Edström and Davernoch to kidnap the Princess. While his 'Brother', Momonga would gather witnesses that came in the form of unsuspecting adventurers.
With a Paladin on his side, it was easy to keep the witnesses alive while they put on a show that labelled him as a Heroic figure.
All the while stealing from Eight Fingers at the same time.
There were many holes to the story. Specially the open capture of Brain Unglaus and Davernoch. But the confirmed absence of the Princess' killer, Edström, and the empty vault, left too many questions unanswered.
So the rumors remained afloat. Slowly spreading, halted only by the witness still burning with seeds of worship.
But seeing him now made it difficult to keep their suspicion.
The King himself could see how Momonga's eyes swam with remorse. Openly directed at his dead daughter.
And the look he sent to him, the King, and his youngest daughter was undeniably guilt. The same look he had received from his most trusted not that long ago.
But he was here with hope. That the message he received was true. So he stepped forward, with as steady a voice he could muster.
"...can you truly save her?" he asked. Barely keeping both his eagerness and hope at bay.
To his surprise, Momonga's eyes burned with determination, and with a nod, he urged forward his companion.
Albedo bowed her head slightly with admission of guilt etched across her face.
To everyone watching, it was self blame. But in truth, it was only directed to Momonga.
"I can, King Ramposa." she answered.
Ramposa visibly relaxed. His heart already aching against hope and another possible failure.
The King's eyes turned to Blue Rose, mainly their leader. Someone who had already failed to resurrect his daughter.
He didn't care that she lacked the power to do so. That a curse so dark was placed on his daughter, as if to ensure she never returns. He only cared about her resurrection and his hope were crushed by those who failed him.
Ramposa felt his world crumble when his eyes turned to his two daughters. One dead, and the other looked no different than a doll that she might as well be.
And when chance to bring closure to him came, his mightiest warrior failed him.
He didn't care that it was unfounded crime. Nor did he care that it was wrong. He wanted answers and he was willing to let someone shoulder his hatred if need be.
Ramposa as he is, is a broken man, and Albedo watched it all.
This was the foundation of a broken King who would let his Kingdom rot. That by the time he gathered the strength to save it, it would already be too late.
This was not a good sign for Albedo. Not when her Lord has no power to take advantage of the decline she would put the Kingdom through.
No connection.
No network.
No allies and resources.
And most of all... A stranger.
For a time, Albedo wished Nazarick was here. And even though she would have to compete for his attention, she at least would have served him far better than she has already.
'...I spent much creating that bitch! She had better be making progress with her work...'
Albedo's angry thoughts wandered to the dark skinned succubus she had recently created with Edström's corps.
And then she turned her attention to the same seed she had planted to the dead Princess' un-beating heart.
'A shame... she would've made a fine addition.'
She had planned to trigger it days after the funeral. Leaving no one to question where the demoness came from, but now...
'No matter. Dead or alive, she will serve her purpose.'
With steady steps and equal grace, Albedo stood beside the bed, gently raised her hand by her waist and whispered...
"Come forth... Avalon."