Edwin took another swig from the bottle of rum, his throat burning as the liquid made its way down. He sat hunched on a weathered wooden crate, the box creaking under his weight. Around him, the cavern buzzed with cacophonous activity, the flickering light from scattered torches casting erratic shadows on the stone walls of the room's inhabitants. This was the heart of the Defias Brotherhood, their hidden lair where its righteous rebellious ideals were once born, now dimmed like the light with the passage of time.
His six guards, now lifeless sentinels, stood a distance away, their features fully hidden behind new and old masks. Even in death, they were bound to his will, or rather, the will of his new masters, who had commanded them to protect him.
Edwin let his gaze drift toward the far wall of the cavern where the Brotherhood's dreadnought, a massive amalgamation of wood and steel, stood half-repaired by the slaves and workers. He had dreamed of using that ship to lay waste to Stormwind, to burn the city to the ground and reclaim what had been stolen from him and his people. But that dream seemed hollow now, replaced with the cold, hard truth of his reality. The plans had changed. He had changed. Everything had changed.
Once, his life had been full of hope. He had led the Stonemasons Guild, a proud, honorable man who had poured everything into rebuilding Stormwind City after it had been razed by the orcs to dust and ashes. He could still picture those days with painful clarity, the sweat and toil of his men, their optimism, their belief that they were creating something good, something lasting. But all of that had been for nothing in the end.
The corrupt nobles of Stormwind had refused to pay what was owed, their greed and corruption knowing no bounds as they drank fine wines and consumed rich foods. Copper coins in place of gold, a mockery of the blood and sweat his guild had poured into the city's reconstruction that none of them could stand for. When they had protested, and demanded justice, they had been met with contempt. So, in a righteous wrath, they had rioted against their lords. But the riots spiraled out of control faster than Edwin had anticipated, and it had culminated in Queen Tiffin's death, struck on the head by a stone in the chaos.
At that moment, he knew, all was lost. The young King Varian Wrynn, grief-stricken and enraged, had declared the Stonemasons outlaws, condemning them to death on sight and blaming them for everything that was wrong with the kingdom. Edwin recalled the events clear as day - how he had fled the city in the veil of the night with nothing more than a shirt on his back and his only daughter, Vanessa, cradled in his arms. Vanessa had been too young then, too innocent to understand the depth of betrayal that had been dealt to them.
Over the years, Vanessa had grown into a shrewd and clever young woman, not only learning about the cruelty of the world from a young age but also thriving in it. She had been practically his stand-in in the headquarters when he was away.
As he recounted the events of that fateful day countless times over the years, a suspicion had quickly taken root in his heart. He had doubts that Queen Tiffin's death had been an accident at all. It had been too convenient for the nobles, far too much. They had rid themselves of a Queen who might have sympathized with the Stonemasons and weakened the nobility's influence, and in her place, they had enraged the King, who was known for his quick temper, manipulating him into crushing their rebellion and strengthening their rule.
It was then that the brotherhood was born - in the aftermath of that betrayal, rising from the ashes of the Stonemasons Guild. At first, they had been defenders of the downtrodden and those wronged by the powers to be, fighting for justice, for retribution against the tyranny of the crown and the corrupt. But over time, that idealism was corrupted and Defias became the symbol of terror it now was. And Edwin… Edwin had let it happen. He had failed to stop the corruption from spreading, both in the Brotherhood and in his own heart. He had even failed to stop it from infecting the one person he cared for the most - Vanessa.
Until today, he had believed that Vanessa would one day inherit the title of the Defias Kingpin and rule the human lands once they razed Stormwind to the ground. The grand plan of rebuilding a dreadnought and unleashing its might on the city he had helped build would have been resolved within a year and they would've taken the king's head to impale on a pike, feeding his and the nobility's families to the dogs.
Now things were different. Two beings of incredible power had come and claimed the brotherhood for themselves, sweeping through like an unstoppable storm. He had warned the subleaders what fate would await them should they try to flee or fight against their new masters, many of them former comrades from the guild. Although his declaration had been met with much confusion, none had dared defy him. In fact, most of the Defias Brotherhood had gathered in the cavern just to meet these so-called Supreme Beings.
The cavern was filling up rapidly, more and more members of the Brotherhood arriving by the minute. Of course, a lot of ground-level grunts wouldn't be informed about the change in leadership as they didn't know much in the first place, but everyone who had ever seen him needed to be present plus anyone with enough power to possibly come into contact with the dangerous duo.
His attention was drawn to a figure approaching from the far end of the cavern, Marisa du'Page. The daughter of one of his lieutenants, a man who had died during the riots in Stormwind. She was young - too young, really - but undeniably dangerous. Her golden hair shimmered in the low light, and she wore a silk dress suit that looked out of place in the rough-hewn cavern, yet somehow suited her perfectly. A glowing blade hung loosely in her right hand, walking towards him with the confident stride of someone who knew her own power, her stride deliberate, her eyes cold. Marisa du'Page was one of the most talented sorceresses the guild had and few were unaware of her magical prowess and extreme cruelty toward those who stood in her way.
Marisa's eyes narrowed as she leaned in, scrutinizing Edwin's every word. Her lips curled in skepticism, her head tilted slightly to the side."So what happened, boss?" she asked.
Edwin took another gulp from his bottle, his gaze drifting over the wooden planks beneath his feet. "I already explained in the letter," he grunted. "We have new leaders. Anyone who wants to fight them or tries to run will serve them as undead, and I cannot help you with it."
Marisa wasn't having it. She snatched the bottle from his hand, her expression hardening as she drank deeply from it before continuing. "Cut the crap, what did they do to make you so scared?" As she let out a hiccup, her eyes flashing with annoyance.
Edwin shot her a dark look, prying the bottle back from her hand with a sigh."One of them, the human-looking woman, brushed off Vanessa's poisons like nothing and somehow reflected a knife stab with her face. The other one, the undead, killed my guards by just touching them and then he raised them as undead right in front of me."
He subtly motioned toward the guards standing silently nearby, who were as still as statues.
Marisa raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I guess if the woman is a sorceress she could have used some kind of magical shield, but poison? Are you sure she wasn't an undead too?"
Edwin shook his head slowly, his fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle. "I doubt it. She looked alive, but who the hell knows?" He stood up and pried the bottle out of Marisa's hands again as she reluctantly let it go.
"So, I guess we are about to find out what our bosses have in store for us." Marisa's gaze lifted as she caught sight of two figures on the main deck of the dreadnought, Vanessa standing behind them.
Ainz and Buku stood in complete silence, their presence alone commanding the attention of every soul on the ship. Edwin felt his gut twist, a deep, primal dread settling in as he realized this wasn't just going to be a simple power transfer. He knew with certainty that some sort of power move would be made by them to ensure that the brotherhood does as told. He could only hope for the best.
Edwin's eyes flicked nervously around the deck, fully expecting that some form of brutal display would follow as a show of power. Perhaps a public execution of a few influential members to send a message, that even the upper echelons weren't safe from the new reign. Yet even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted what happened next.
Ainz raised his golden staff and tapped it lightly against the ship's deck. At first, the sound was a hollow thud, nothing more. But then, a creeping darkness spread outward from his feet, swallowing the wooden planks like an ink spill, pitch black. A swirling, despair aura rose around him, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself had turned against them and corrupted to his will.
It hit Edwin with the force of a tidal wave, fear flooding his body and mind. His knees buckled as he shuddered uncontrollably. Then, his legs gave out beneath him, crashing to the deck as his body betrayed him entirely in sheer terror. The bottle slipped from his grasp, dropping beside him with a faint clatter. His teeth chattered as an uncontrollable shiver wracked his frame. Sweat drenched his brow, but he felt frozen, utterly paralyzed by the sheer terror emanating from the undead. This dread dwarfed anything he had felt in his life, threatening to consume his mind entirely.
Around him, the crew wasn't faring much better. Men and women who had once been hardened criminals, fearless in the face of death and torture, now crumbled to the ground like children; quaking, sobbing, and begging for mercy from their mothers and gods. The oppressive weight of Supreme Being Ainz's power pressed down on them all, drowning their defiance like a snuffed-out flame before a barrel of water.
"W-what is this…?" Marisa whimpered beside him. Gone was the brash, sharp-tongued woman who had snatched the bottle from him moments ago. Instead, she was the frightened girl Edwin remembered, the one who had fled the city at his side all those years ago. Now, reduced to this, she could barely form a coherent thought, fearing for her life as her jittering fingers failed to move.
Edwin clenched his jaw through the muscles in his face, twitching from the strain of keeping up the façade. He picked up his bottle and raised it to his lips, trying desperately to show off casual ease before his subordinates as the last one not sprawled across the floor. But as the burning liquor slid down his throat, it did nothing to steady his nerves, only serving as a slight distraction to the darkness. His hand trembled slightly as he took another sip, his false sense of control unraveling with each passing second.
"B-boss…" Marisa whimpered again, her voice barely a whisper. What the hell are they? M-my shields, my wards… n-nothing works." She trembled, her fingers twitching as if she could summon some forgotten spell to save her. But Edwin knew, just as she did, that magic held no sway here. It was like trying to halt a tidal wave with paper walls.
Edwin glanced around, his gaze sweeping over the pitiful sight of his crew. This feeling of overwhelming fear was shared unanimously by them all. Even the borderline-insane goblins were huddling together in tight, anxious clusters like small children, their tools dropped like the rest of them.
And then it came. The voice. Not spoken aloud, but projected directly into his mind. A voice that did not simply speak to him… it commanded him. { I demand silence! } Ainz's voice, cold and devoid of emotion, invaded his mind, its demanding tone only amplifying the gravity of the order of the one who stood above them all.
All murmurs and whimpers instantly died down. The silence that followed was deafening even to the ears used to the screams of the damned. Edwin felt his heart thumping hard in his chest and beads of sweat forming on his brow, flowing like never before. He had never met anyone who commanded authority to such a degree. The undead seemed to be a born ruler. That much his instincts told him. 'A Supreme Being. He is holding back. If he wanted, he could kill us all with ease.' A terrible thought entered his mind as if he had tasted a bit of his new master's infinite power for the briefest of moments as the overlord's presence resonated throughout his mind. Ainz wasn't just powerful… he was absolute. To betray or disobey such a being was unthinkable.
If before he had harbored the illusion that he could have taken his daughter and fled to start a new life somewhere else, then now he knew better. Now it seemed laughable. Futile. There was nowhere to run. Sooner or later Ainz Ooal Gown and Buku Ooal Gown would govern the world and no force would be able to stop them. He swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the alcohol drunken mere seconds earlier. The dread that gripped his heart tightened, threatening to burst it open.
{ From this day forward, you serve us. You will give your all to achieve our goals and in return, we will take care of you as our loyal subjects. } The words echoed in Edwin's skull, like the ringing of a bell that could not be unrung, resonating deep within him.
The sense of dread faded as a new voice invaded his mind with equal intensity. { Cheer for your Emperor, Ainz Ooal Gown! Show your dedication or be cast aside! }
The crowd, still reeling from the supernatural terror they'd just experienced, hesitated. But Edwin knew what needed to be done. His survival instincts kicked in with brutal efficiency, pushing aside the crippling fear as blood roared in his ears. There was no time to ponder or resist; to do so would mean death to him, his daughter, and everyone in the brotherhood. With every ounce of force he could muster, Edwin thrust his right arm into the air, his voice raw and desperate as he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Hail Emperor Ainz Ooal Gown! Hail Emperor Ainz Ooal Gown!"
His cry split through the oppressive silence, hanging in the air like the crack of a whip. For a moment, no one followed, the crowd still stunned by the unreal reality of their new situation. But as if spurred on by his defiance of the silence, the others quickly followed suit. One by one, they raised their voices, a trickle that grew into a torrent of loyalty and desperation, shouting their dedication to the monster, united as one in fear.
The collective shout resonated through the air, becoming an anthem of submission. A new era for the Brotherhood had begun.
Ainz sat comfortably in his library corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves crammed with magical tomes and history books. He had made a cozy library corner for himself and studied the purchased literature with the devotion of a longtime scholar. Until he found a more permanent solution, he had settled on creating a fortress daily in the cavern to have a suitable headquarters, leaving behind the current infrastructure for his new subordinates to live in.
The fortress itself was impressive, its sheer scale dwarfing everything else in the cavern. Each cast of the spell had given life to towering walls, grand halls, and elegant chambers, leaving Ainz with a stronghold more impressive than anything the Brotherhood had likely ever seen in their entire lives. The penthouse area, reserved for him and Buku, was a grandiose suite furnished with only the finest furnishings befitting the greatest rulers. Rich carpets sewn with gold thread, gilded furniture decorated with gems, and magic chandeliers that never went out, bathed the room in a soft, ethereal light. The balcony offered a view of the cavern, where the rest of the Brotherhood scurried like ants, aware that their every move was being watched by their new overlords. With a lot of extra space, he and Buku had only occupied the penthouse area, letting the rest of the rooms be taken by notable members of the brotherhood as they saw fit.
After the first day, Ainz realized that the spell could be recast before the building faded, thus keeping it permanently present by only expending a small portion of his near-infinite mana pool. It took only a second to regain the mana lost in using this spell, he barely noticed it if not for him specifically looking out for it. Better yet he could stack up the casts and make the magical building present for the next five years, which he did and then some.
While Ainz immersed himself in his studies, Buku took a different approach. She found herself drawn to the more social aspects of ruling; learning about the people in their service and ensuring that they were organized fairly and efficiently. It wasn't just about controlling them; it was about mastering the intricacies of leadership, something she excelled at since her days of navigating the treacherous world of business. She sat behind a grand desk made of obsidian and dark wood, its surface reflecting the magical torches that lit the room from Ainz's spells.
Vanessa, the girl who had once been a threat, now stood at her side, dutifully serving as her handmaiden in hopes of gleaning some wisdom from her. As Vanessa placed a delicate porcelain teacup in front of her mistress, Buku took it with an absentminded nod, her thoughts already elsewhere as she poured over paperwork.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the penthouse area of the fortress. Each thud reverberated off the stone walls as the figure of Rhahk'Zor, the ogre foreman, lumbered into the room. His hulking form was even more imposing indoors, the space seeming to shrink in comparison to his massive bulk. Despite his size, he moved with surprising care, his eyes wide with awe as he slowly approached the seated Buku.
With a deep grunt, the ogre knelt before her, the floor trembling slightly under his weight.
"Rhahk'Zor, mistress," Vanessa introduced the ogre with a respectful bow. "As an ogre, his speech is lacking, but I assure you, he is not as dumb as he sounds."
Buku raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching in silent amusement. "We'll see," she said. She took a casual sip from her cup, the fragrant steam rising lazily into the air. "Tell me, Rhahk'Zor, what do you do?"
The ogre straightened his back slightly, proud of the role he held. His deep, rumbling voice struggled with each word, as if pulling them out of the air was a monumental task for his puny brain. "Me… order… small ones. Make… work hard. Gather wood. Make… pointy things." He paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully as if he had just recited an essay of great complexity rather than crude sentences.
Buku leaned back in her chair, setting the teacup down with a faint clink. "Do you like your job?" she continued, her tone light, as if she were chatting with an old friend rather than interrogating a hulking ogre.
The question seemed to take Rhahk'Zor by surprise. He blinked a few times before nodding his large head enthusiastically. "Me… proud. Me good boss. Make tiny ones work hard. Me make sure no stuff stolen. Me… count everything." His thick fingers fumbled at his belt before pulling out a crumpled scroll. With great care, as though presenting a treasure, he held it out for Buku to inspect with two fingers. "Wrote down numbers," he added with a hint of pride.
Buku eyed the scroll, its slightly moist and smudged surface giving her pause. She wasn't about to touch anything that had passed through the ogre's grubby hands. She motioned for Vanessa to deal with the object. The young woman approached the scroll with a thinly veiled grimace, carefully unrolling it before her mistress. To her surprise, the writing on the parchment was relatively neat and legible for someone whose speech was like listening to rocks grind together.
Adjusting her translation glasses, Buku skimmed over the numbers and details. Each figure was meticulous, listing the materials gathered, their quantities, and notes on the workforce assigned to repair the dreadnaughts. In the margins, simple yet insightful comments on shipbuilding had been jotted down, hinting at a deeper understanding than Buku had expected from the ogre. The ogre was clearly highly intelligent in the brain processing and observing department, one of the best she had seen so far today.
She raised an eyebrow."Do ogres build ships?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else.
Rhahk'Zor's face lit up, the pride in his accomplishment evident. "Me pop build good ships. Horde proud. Me learned," he replied, his words slow and clumsy but filled with conviction.
Buku leaned back in her chair, impressed despite herself. "Good job, Rhahk'Zor. Carry on. I'll remember your skills when we need to start building our fleet."
The ogre beamed, chest puffed out as though she had just crowned him king of the shipbuilders. With a nod, he lumbered out of the room, his heavy footsteps fading into the distance.
As soon as he was gone, Buku let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Good thing we have only one of him. I don't know if I could handle listening to this for long," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "Where did the brotherhood find that guy?"
Vanessa, still holding the damp scroll with two fingers like it was a diseased rag, looked thoughtful for a second. "I think he was found half-dead in the mines when the brotherhood moved in. Apparently left behind by the Horde during some sort of infighting, although father never elaborated further."
Buku frowned. "Strange, I don't remember seeing ogres in Orgrimmar. They weren't present in Undercity either. I wonder why that is."
From the corner of the room, Ainz, still engrossed in his study of arcane texts, offered a response without looking up. "The current horde was made by Thrall. Ogres were likely part of the old Horde, the one ruled by brute force and savagery."
"Ah, that explains it." Buku nodded, rolling her eyes as she remembered Rhahk'Zor's clumsy speech. "I can see why Thrall wouldn't want them around. The guy's smart, sure, but good grief, trying to have a conversation with him is exhausting. Anyway," she turned to Vanessa, "What's next on the list?"
"Rhahk'Zor was the last one, mistress," Vanessa replied promptly, folding the scroll with a hint of relief and tucking it into a shelf. "Father promised a full report of all current and planned Brotherhood activities by tomorrow. I believe there were some updates from Elvynn and he prefers to give you the most up-to-date information."
Buku stretched her arms above her head, stifling a yawn. "I see. In that case, let's wrap it up for today. Go prepare a bath," she instructed, setting her cup aside, "and then you're free to use the library. Take your time. You've earned it."
Vanessa's eyes lit up at the mention of the library. She had been a quick learner, absorbing the lessons Buku gave her with remarkable speed in management. Her sharp mind and eagerness to prove herself made her an invaluable assistant. And, of course, Ainz personally ensured her loyalty with the help of his [Domination] spell, erasing memories that the questioning even took place. Vanessa, by all means, had decided on near fanatical devotion but planned to use her servitude as a means to grow in power and strive for a position of Buku's trusted right-hand, not that the latter minded. Loyal servants were always appreciated.
Edited By NabeisWaifu and aidan_lo.
Proofreading by nate051499j6, IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, Malguis, aidan_lo, and I AM THE STRING CUTTER.
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