The interior of Blackrock Spire left a lot to be desired, to say the least. Its halls, crudely carved from the mountain's dark stone, stretched endlessly in a labyrinthine way, lit only by the rare flicker of torch flame or lava flow. The air was dense with the terrible stink of rot and decay, a combination of rotting food and unwashed bodies, forming an almost tangible miasma that clung to the skin and muffled the senses.
The inhabitants of Nefarian's kingdom, a diverse group of creatures and beings united in their servitude to a singular superior species, watched the new rulers pass with a mix of anxiety and intrigue. Orcs lurked in the darkness, massive wolves serving as their mounts growled low as they skulked. Ogres lumbered about with a bulky, brutish grace, while goblins skittered like rodents all throughout. Ainz and Buku even spotted the dragonoids; over two-meter tall, bipedal beings with dragon heads and covered in black scales that shone like obsidian. They resembled those Ainz remembered from Yggdrasil, as if these served as an inspiration for their game counterparts.
"We use mortal races to create them. Or in rare cases, they are given natural births if the female picks a humanoid mate," Nefarian explained.
Ainz grew more intrigued by this twisted kind of creation. It seemed the draconic hierarchy extended much beyond the typical scales and wings and into hybrid offspring, which had all sorts of possibilities springing into his mind for farming useful undead. Nearby, another type of dragonspawn roamed the halls. These were akin to centaurs, with four legs and enormous power, and their forms were a bizarre hybrid of dragon and beast. And even these, by his estimations, would make decently powerful undead for this world.
The farther they went into Blackrock Spire, the more it became clear that the structure was a jumble of haphazard construction made over the years, a patchwork of crude tunnels and chambers that had been built and remodeled with no regard for shape or grace, purely for dragon and dragonoid functionality. Nefarian's lair was enormous, containing tens of thousands of creatures, yet it lacked artistry and creativity. If the Great Tomb of Nazarick was an expansive masterwork of terrifying elegance, this was a rough draft - a crude sketch scratched on the back of an extremely large napkin.
Their last stop was the throne room, perched precariously on a balcony that jutted out from the mountainside. Ainz could see the tactical benefit of a dragon's vantage point - the ability to leap to the skies at any moment. However, from a defensive sense against virtually anything, it wasn't ideal in the slightest. A direct assault by an aerial force or particularly long-ranged projectiles could effortlessly penetrate the area in question, leaving them defenseless. Nefarian may have ruled by terror and raw violence, suppressing any possible threat of anyone reaching the area through blood and claw, but Ainz wasn't one to leave such obvious flaws unaddressed.
Buku commented, { I think we'll need to rebuild the whole city. } Her tone was disapproving. Her gaze moved around the throne area, taking in the jagged stone and lack of aesthetic concern.
{ It'll take a lot of work and shouldn't be our priority. } Ainz replied. The necessities of their expanding empire surpassed any desire for instant opulence or aesthetic consistency. For the time being, function ought to take priority over form.
{ At least you're giving me resources to decorate our palace area. This is ours now, we can liven it up a little! } Buku didn't back down.
Ainz let out a resigned mental sigh. He knew Buku well enough to understand that once she set her mind on something, there was little point in trying to dissuade her; she would have her way. { As long as you don't go overboard, you can do whatever you want with our living space but don't forget to vet our new servants as well. }
{ Don't worry darling. } Buku's voice softened slightly, an almost affectionate tone creeping into her thoughts. { I don't plan to slack off. I know how important it is to start things right. I know we're not taking a vacation for a few years until things are under control. Speaking of which, do you want me to free the rest of the dragons or will you try it yourself? }
{ You know how to deal with the living so I'll leave it to you. Even weaker dragon spawns are more useful than a singular undead. } Ainz saw no reason to mistrust his wife. She was the closest person to him, his partner in all things. The thought of betrayal from her wasn't even a distant possibility in his mind.
{ Got it. } Buku replied and turned her attention to Nefarian, who had been silently following their exchange, walking beside them. "Gather all dragons for me. I will remove the Old Gods' influence."
"As you command, Lady Buku," Nefarian replied, bowing.
"How long will it take?" Buku asked, eyes fixed on Nefarian with the intensity of a drill sergeant inspecting her troops.
"At least two or three days," Nefarian replied thoughtfully, his eyes flicking toward a distant section of the spire. "Should we also gather all the eggs?" There was a weight to his words, an unspoken concern about the future of his kin. The influence of N'Zoth ran deep, like a poison in the bloodline, and there were no guarantees that the dragons born in the future would be free from it as long as Deathwing lived. There never was confirmation that Deathwing had perished when he fled from the combined might of all other aspects, just that he had never returned.
Nefarian's account of the black dragonflight's turbulent past was a complicated story of his kind to his new masters as they toured the spire. How his father lost his sanity and attacked the other aspects during the first demonic invasion ten thousand years ago. He had deceived them into crafting the Dragon Soul, an artifact of unimaginable power that could bend the will of all dragonkind. Deathwing sought to assert his dominance, not just over the other aspects, but over the world itself. Yet, in a twist of fate, the artifact was ultimately destroyed during battle, and by a mortal human nonetheless.
It was then when he was left in charge of the greatly diminished black dragonflight and needed to find a way not only to rebuild but to make his kind thrive so he could rule alongside the Old Gods when they broke free and remade the world in their image, gaining the power to rule over all living mortal races.
The reason for the black Dragonflight still serving the Old Gods was likely licking his wounds somewhere hidden from the sight of the Dragon Queen Alexstrasza and the rest of the aspects who were eager to end the black dragons for their crimes, past and present.
Ainz nodded, absorbing this intricate web of lore. The downfall of the black dragonflight was a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and unchecked ambition. It was clear that, for now, they must tread carefully, reinforcing their power and solidifying their positions before considering any expansion.
"I think it will be safer if we keep them deep in the Spire and fortify the place. With all that can go wrong, I prefer to build a proper defensive force before we dream of expanding. There's always a chance that others of our kind are walking this world," Ainz declared.
"Understood. Onyxia, gather your eggs and deliver them here." Nefarian bowed again and then barked an order at his sister.
The command was met with a hiss from his sister. Onyxia's eyes narrowed as she turned to glare at her brother, showing no desire to listen to him "I heard what the masters said." she retorted, her voice dripping with defiance, not wanting to be seen as lesser than her brother and take orders from him.
{ Reminds me of certain siblings. } Ainz playfully made a comparison. The dynamic between Nefarian and Onyxia bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain pair of brother and sister he was familiar with.
{ I doubt we'll be at each other's throats any time soon even if we get him here tomorrow. } Buku's response was softer, touched with a note of melancholy. { I miss the bastard. } She might not have outwardly shown it, but the thought of her own brother, left behind in their world, a world now so far removed from this one, weighed heavily on her. As powerful as they were, there were things yet beyond their grasp, and bringing over her brother was one of them.
Ainz glanced at Buku, her face composed but her eyes showing an inkling of sadness. He placed a hand on her shoulder, in silent understanding. Onyxia, sensing the awkwardness, backed down with a small bow of her head, "I will see to it immediately," she responded, her tone devoid of the defiance it had conveyed minutes before as she took off to the skies.
Buku glanced over the crowd. Over a hundred dragons in their visage forms - humanoid disguises of various shapes and sizes - stood in orderly rows, a sea of eyes trained on her. Among them, dog-sized whelps flew around, little more than overgrown puppies with wings, too young to understand they needed to behave.
As with all babies, Buku found them cute and couldn't fault them for just wanting to play around. Despite being draconic in nature, their behavior was no different from any other newborns, exploring their world with an endearing lack of caution and an incredible desire to learn and do more. They zipped around in haphazard patterns, their tiny wings flapping furiously to keep them aloft as all dragons were born with all motor functions and could survive in the wilds on their own, but sentience wasn't immediate and developed in the first few months after they had hatched, assuming they lived that long.
Her eyes shifted to the older child dragons who had taken the forms of human children. They stood in lines as rigidly as their older siblings and parents, shifting in place from the tension.
She rose from the stone throne that once belonged to Nefarian and stretched. The throne itself was a crude thing, more a block of hewn rock than a proper seat of power, but it had sufficed for the dragon prince in his reign of terror and thus would have to do for her. As she stretched, cracking her neck with a satisfying pop, she prepared herself for the task ahead. It was time to see if she could take over the entire black dragonflight and wrestle them away from the Old God's maddening influence, putting them under her control instead.
As Onyxia and Nefarian had proved, just freeing them from the whispers didn't change their personalities and the most likely outcome was that the black dragons would be near psychotic lunatics by default, with some rare, more level-headed exceptions scattered here and there. Thus, it was necessary to implement deep-seated control immediately after the removal of the Old Gods' influence to ensure that the peace was kept.
Her mind briefly wandered to Ainz and Nefarian, who to not unnecessarily risk things had wisely teleported away to the Defias hideout with the rest of the undead present in the spire, leaving her to conduct this ritual alone.
Onyxia standing by her side was the only authority keeping these dragons in check, at least for now.
Taking a sharp breath, Buku closed her eyes, reaching inward to feel the mighty power that lay dormant within her. It was time to find her limits, to test the very boundaries of the power she wielded ever since she had arrived in this world. The energies within swirled, promising depths of power akin to a great whirlpool. As she called forth the holy light, she felt it respond not just as an element, but as an extension of her will, demanding its presence to cleanse the minds of hundreds of dragons and replace the control of the Old Gods with her own. The air around her lit up and then, with a brilliant burst, her golden wings unfurled in an instant. They stretched out from her back, radiating pure white light with the brilliance of a miniature sun each. A halo blazed into existence above her head, its light gentle in contrast, illuminating her features with an ethereal glow. She was a vision of divinity, a goddess incarnate.
A wave of holy energy surged forth from her, rippling through the air like a tide of purifying fire. It washed over the assembled dragons, filling the throne room and spilling out into the surrounding areas like a natural disaster. The light was warm, soothing and filled with seemingly unfathomable power. It seeped into every nook and cranny of the spire, chasing away shadows and pests. As the wave moved through the dragons, they started to murmur among themselves for the first time in years. Their eyes widened, pupils dilating as if a veil had been lifted from their minds. Even the whelps, who had been darting around, stopped mid-air, their tiny mouths agape as they stared at Buku, their eyes field with reverence at her sheer power.
She could feel them, each and every one of them. Their thoughts, their emotions, their very essence for her to take. It was as if a vast network of minds had opened up to her. This would be their true allegiance; a loyalty that went beyond mere fear, born from unshakable reverence and indomitable belief. They would see her as the highest authority, with Ainz, their Supreme Ruler, standing beside her as an equal, at her command.
Somewhere, she thought, Deathwing, if he even dared to show his molten-scaled face, would face the shock of his life. His own kin would rise against him without a moment's hesitation, ready to tear down the very father who had once ruled them.
The moment of truth had finally come. The atmosphere in the Blackrock Spire throne room was heavy, filled with an almost tangible sense of anticipation. Ainz sat upon the single throne, beside him, Buku perched casually on the armrest, her elbow resting nonchalantly on his shoulder plate.
To anyone who dared question it, her relaxed pose was almost a statement 'I'm not just here to fill space. I am to be feared, respected, and revered every bit as much as he is.' Her wings of light, she kept active at the moment purely as a demonstration, folded neatly behind her, a constant reminder of the radiant power she held in reserve. And her gaze? It swept across the crowd, calm and imperious, lingering just long enough to make even the boldest and most experienced feel a faint tremor down their spines.
The throne room was packed with the most formidable subjects in their emerging empire. Dragons of every size stood in neat rows, their eyes locked on Buku and Ainz with a devotion only barely short of fanatical worship. But they weren't alone. Clustered around the towering dragons stood the leaders of ogres, orcs, trolls, and even the notorious Defias Brotherhood, a ragtag band of humans who had previously sworn allegiance to no one. All had gathered here today, some with barely concealed unease at the summons and the presence of each other, to witness the founding of the Empire of Nazarick.
Nefarian, the eldest black dragon, stood proudly to Ainz's right. His usual arrogance had given way to an awe-filled reverence, sending murmurs flying among the weaker races. The mighty dragon, who once would have sneered at any notion of bending his will, now watched Ainz with unblinking loyalty. To Buku's side stood Onyxia, who seemed just as much a part of the throne room as the obsidian pillars and molten streams themselves. A sliver of a smile played across her lips. She knew her place, she knew exactly whom she served, and was glad to do so.
In the crowd, Vanessa VanCleef, Buku's former handmaiden, stood on the periphery, arms crossed and jaw clenched in barely masked envy. The poor girl could hardly look at Onyxia without that familiar pang. Her position as Buku's closest confidant had been usurped by a dragoness who, to be fair, could both advise on state matters and turn enemies into cinders with a mere exhale. Vanessa still held her title as one of Buku's handmaidens and was personally trained by her mistress, but now she was just one among ten, a fact that stung her pride more than any wound.
The other handmaidens, a collection of young, black-scaled dragon girls with the appearance of strikingly beautiful yet slightly terrifying teenage humans, stood nearby, each possessing far more power from birth than Vanessa could ever hope to gain. With a thought, they could transform into scaly beasts larger than war horses, unleashing dragon breath strong enough to melt steel. Vanessa might have been used to dealing with troublesome foes, but compared to these dragon whelps, she was merely a talented mortal.
As the last of the servants arrived and took their spots, Nefarian took a step forward and announced, "Our master, Emperor Ainz Ooal Gown is ready to address you."
The room descended into silence so complete that even the flickering of the lava seemed to pause in respect. The dragons, newly bound to the will of Nazarick, would not dare interrupt, and the orcs, trolls, ogres, and humans, looked on as though their very lives depended on their obedience. Drawing the ire of a hundred dragons, they all knew, would mean the end of their bloodlines, an eradication swift and final.
Ainz shifted, the bones of his skeletal hand curling around the armrest with a faint creak of metal. "Thank you, Nefarian. I will be brief! Today you have all gathered to witness the birth of a new Empire! I am proud to announce that this is the day the Empire of Nazarick begins and you are its first citizens!"
The words fell like a hammer blow, sparking a surge of silent pride in the room.
"Make no mistake," he continued, "there is a lot of work ahead of us to establish our rightful place among the other powers of this world, but rest assured," his eye sockets flared with an intense red light, "we will claim what is ours! Serve us with all your hearts and rest assured that we will watch over you all! Betray us…" He allowed a pause, the silence thickening, "and you shall wish you had never been born." As expected, he took out the whip after presenting the carrot.
The room seemed to shudder in response as if even the stone feared to cross him, which it probably would considering how dangerous its new owner was.
Buku glanced out over the room, catching glimpses of the dragons lowering their heads slightly and most of the ogres and orcs nodding in obedience, pushing down those who were so shocked they couldn't bow down themselves. It was a thrill to see the mixture of fear and respect filling their eyes, referencing the power she and Ainz held. Their journey would be rocky, no doubt about it, but it had a grand start as any.
Their rule had begun and they had no illusions that the start would be a rocky one. The remnants of the old horde had countless enemies and the black dragons alone had a list of grudges long enough to wrap around the spire twice and then some if written out on paper. But the room pulsed with conviction now, conviction to follow their new rulers who could take them beyond what they had had under the old leadership.
The Empire of Nazarick had indeed taken its first breath, and she and Ainz stood on the precipice of something greater than any had seen.
Later, in the depths of the newly claimed fortress, the scene was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the throne room. The bedroom Ainz and Buku now shared was a masterpiece of luxury, decorated with everything the couple could think of. Dark stone walls, enchanted with protective spells, enclosed a space filled with ornate furnishings, accompanied by lights flickering in the magical lamps. Although Ainz had night vision and could easily read in complete darkness, he chose to leave the lights on for aesthetics. The castle area in the deepest depths of the Blackrock Spire took shape at a rapid pace and their quarters were the first to be finished in mere days after the creation of the empire, a great feat all things considered.
The centerpiece of the room was their double bed, crafted from enchanted materials stronger than the hardest steel, yet deceptively delicate in its appearance. The mattress was made of the softest feathers the Brotherhood could get their hands on, and the sheets were woven from enchanted silk that shimmered faintly in the dim light from Yggdrasil game items. It was a bed fit for the finest royalty.
Ainz sat upright, holding a book as he read about the history of Dalaran, the mage city in the north that had been razed and rebuilt after the Third War. The city had stood proud for centuries, only to be brought low by the demon lord's attack. Now rebuilt, it was made a floating citadel far above the grounds with the help of a few dozen of the most powerful mages on Azeroth performing one of the most complex spells ever conceived.
Ainz knew that he wanted to visit this city when Nazarick was established enough for him to be received as an honorable guest, not an undead monster feared by all, so it would have to wait on his bucket list.
Beside him, Buku lay in her natural form, partly engulfing his skeletal frame as she slept. In just one day she had learned to reshape herself in a vaguely humanoid form to, as she put it, to become a proper slime girl for him. It was an amusing thought, inconceivable in his previous world beyond mere fantasy fiction. But now it was just another part of their new existence.
In this form, Buku made no sound, no breath, and no heartbeat. Only the slight vibrations emanating from her gelatinous form in short rhythmic intervals signaled that she was, in fact, asleep. It was a peculiar sensation, to have someone so close yet so silent.
Although she didn't need to sleep, she still preferred to do so. Ainz, on the other hand, saw no need for such a time-consuming activity, choosing to use his time to read and learn as much as he could. He turned the page with [Move object, engulfed in the tale about the fabled city that had stood proud for centuries only to be razed instantly during the war.
His gaze returned to the book, his mind half-occupied with the events of the past few weeks. So much had happened in such a short time. He and Buku had become more than human and were tossed into this new world filled with magic and wonders. They had accomplished their first goal - they had formed a nation to rule over.
And that was just the beginning. The Empire of Nazarick was still in its infancy, and the challenges it would face were many. Enemies loomed on all sides and allies were scarce in a world where power was the only true currency. So much needed to be done to ensure they kept what was theirs now, and so little time to do it.
Then there was the matter of Itsuki. They still needed to find a way to bring him into this world. And what of the abilities that were either still unexplored or locked away by the mysterious entity, Artemel? Ainz had no doubt she watched their every move. Her motives and desires were as puzzling as they were threatening. The knowledge that there existed a being far above them in terms of power and knowledge was a constant reminder of the precariousness of their position. He could only hope she was entertained enough to not think of making their lives even more difficult, she surely could in a heartbeat if she wanted to.
Ainz closed the book with a soft thud, setting it aside. His eyes glowed in the dim light as he stared into the darkness beyond. They were the Supreme Beings of Azeroth, yet they weren't invincible. How the twists of fate turned out, only time would tell.
Edited by aidan_lo and NabeisWaifu.
Proofreading by IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, I AM THE STRING CUTTER, and aidan_lo.
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