The grand halls of House Leonhart were quiet, filled with an air of uncertainty that matched the tension gripping the kingdom. With the death of the previous king and the growing threat of the orc lord's invasion, the nobility found themselves scrambling for security. Among them was Baron Leonhart, a once-prominent noble whose influence had waned in recent years. The house was far from its days of glory, and Baron Leonhart knew it. The shadows of his ancestors weighed heavily on him as he sat in his study, staring out over the rolling hills of his estate.
Beside him stood his son, Ivar Leonhart, who paced restlessly. Ivar was a young man, sharp-eyed and ambitious, though his frustration was palpable.
"They say the orc lord's forces grow larger every day, Father," Ivar said, breaking the silence. "Villages along the border have been razed. The king's death has left us without leadership, and the royal council is in disarray. How can we protect ourselves when the kingdom itself is crumbling?"
Baron Leonhart sighed, his aging face creased with worry. "I have heard the same reports, Ivar. Our forces are not enough to stand against such an army. And yet, aligning ourselves with the wrong faction could doom us just as swiftly."
Ivar's fist clenched at his side. "We can't sit here and do nothing! There are rumors of strange creatures, ants, that have appeared in the Wasteland. Some say they are monsters, others say they are demons. But what we know for certain is that they are powerful. They've defeated entire bands of orcs and beasts alike."
Baron Leonhart raised an eyebrow. "You believe we should ally ourselves with such creatures? They sound dangerous, unpredictable."
Before Ivar could respond, there was a knock at the door. A servant entered, bowing deeply. "My lord, a visitor has arrived. He claims to be an envoy from a powerful benefactor who wishes to assist House Leonhart."
The baron's expression shifted from worry to intrigue. "A benefactor, you say? Send him in."
The servant nodded and quickly left the room. Moments later, the doors opened, and Demiurge stepped inside. Cloaked in a regal, dark outfit, his eyes gleamed with intelligence and something more—a calculated, menacing edge that was hidden beneath a calm and composed demeanor.
"Lord Leonhart," Demiurge began, his voice smooth and commanding, "I bring greetings from my master, a benefactor who has taken interest in the stability of this kingdom and your house in particular."
Baron Leonhart stood and offered a polite nod. "And who might your master be, sir? You speak with confidence, but you appear as an unfamiliar face."
Demiurge smiled faintly, his sharp teeth momentarily glinting in the candlelight. "My master prefers to remain... in the shadows, for now. But know that he has the power to turn the tide of any conflict. He has already acted to suppress the growing chaos, though few know of his interventions."
Ivar, still standing by the window, turned sharply. "Is your master behind the creatures we've heard about—the demonic ants? Are they his doing?"
Demiurge's smile grew, and he spread his arms slightly. "Indeed. The ants you speak of are a mere glimpse of my master's strength. They have been tasked with keeping the Wasteland under control, defeating marauding beasts and even some of the orc lord's vanguard. They serve my master, and by extension, they could serve you."
Baron Leonhart's eyes narrowed as he considered the words. "And why, pray tell, would your master be interested in aiding House Leonhart? We are not what we once were. There are stronger, wealthier families he could turn to."
Demiurge's gaze became piercing. "Because my master recognizes potential where others see only weakness. Your house has a storied history, but more importantly, you are not currently aligned with any of the other factions that seek to seize power in this time of crisis. You are a clean slate—a valuable asset."
Ivar stepped forward, his eyes flickering with excitement. "If what you say is true, then your master could be the key to restoring our house to its former glory. But why not reveal himself? Why the secrecy?"
Demiurge tilted his head slightly. "My master is cautious. He understands that open displays of power draw unnecessary attention. However, if we succeed in stabilizing the kingdom, his support for House Leonhart will become more public. For now, discretion is our greatest weapon."
Baron Leonhart sat back in his chair, folding his hands before him. "And what does your master want in return? Surely such power comes with a price."
Demiurge's smile remained fixed, though his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Loyalty. When the time comes, House Leonhart will act as my master's voice within the kingdom. You will rise to prominence, but you must understand that your power will be tied to his."
The baron leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "You ask much. But these are desperate times, and desperate measures must be taken. If your master can deliver what you promise, then I will consider this alliance. But I will need proof of his power—something more than rumors and tales."
Demiurge nodded, clearly expecting the request. "Very well. My master anticipated your need for reassurance. Even now, a group of my master's ants is protecting one of your border villages. A band of orcs had been terrorizing the area. By now, they are nothing but corpses."
Ivar's eyes widened. "The reports were true, then? The ants have been fighting for us?"
Demiurge chuckled softly. "Oh, they've been fighting for my master. But as I said, they can serve you, if you so choose. I suggest you send scouts to confirm what I've said. You will find the orcs dead and the village untouched."
Baron Leonhart exchanged a glance with his son. "We will send word immediately," he said. "If your claims are true, then we will have much to discuss."
The Aftermath of the Orc Battle
A few hours later, as night descended upon the estate, a messenger returned to House Leonhart. The young man was breathless, his face pale as he entered the baron's study.
"My lord! The reports were true! The orcs—they've all been slain. I saw the bodies myself. Crushed, torn apart… it was as if they stood no chance at all."
Ivar, who had been pacing anxiously, stopped in his tracks. "And the village?"
"Completely unharmed," the messenger replied. "The villagers were terrified, but they were not harmed. They spoke of strange creatures, ants that moved with terrifying precision and strength. They said the beasts destroyed the orcs in minutes."
Baron Leonhart sat back, letting the information sink in. He turned to Demiurge, who stood quietly in the corner of the room, his expression unchanged.
"It seems your master has proven his power," the baron said. "I suppose we have no choice but to accept his offer. House Leonhart will align itself with him."
Demiurge bowed slightly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "An excellent decision, Lord Leonhart. You have chosen the path of strength and survival. My master will be most pleased."
Securing the Alliance
Later that evening, as the baron and Ivar discussed the terms of their newfound alliance in private, Demiurge stood on a balcony overlooking the estate. He could see the faint glow of fires in the distance, evidence of the battles still raging across the kingdom.
"Everything is proceeding as planned," he murmured to himself. "House Leonhart will serve as a valuable tool in my lord's ascension."
Just as he finished his thought, a voice spoke up behind him. It was Ivar, his face filled with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
"Demiurge," Ivar said, stepping forward, "I understand the power you and your master wield, but I must ask—what is it that you truly seek? What's your endgame?"
Demiurge turned to face the young nobleman, his smile ever-present. "My master's goals are far-reaching, Ivar. Far beyond what you or I could comprehend. But know this—those who stand with him will reap the rewards of a new world order. And those who stand against him… well, they will simply be swept aside."
Ivar shivered slightly at the intensity in Demiurge's voice, but he steeled himself. "Then we shall stand with your master. For the sake of House Leonhart, we will fight for this new world."
Demiurge smiled wider, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Wise words, young Leonhart. Together, we will shape the future."
As the night deepened, the stage was set. The alliance between House Leonhart and Ainz was now sealed, and Demiurge knew that soon, very soon, their master's influence would spread like a shadow across the kingdom. The first piece of the puzzle had been placed. The game of thrones had begun.