Forest Road, Re-Estize Territory
Hours after the fall of Carne Village
The trees stood too still.
Gazef Stronoff, Warrior-Captain of the Kingdom, rode at the head of his column. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade—not from habit, but instinct. Something was wrong.
Behind him, the men shifted uneasily. The air was cold. Watching. As though the wind had been replaced by breath.
And then—
A flicker.
He turned.
A figure walked just off the road. Cloaked. Quiet. Eyes like cooling embers.
Not one of his men.
Gazef met his gaze.
"You're not part of my guard."
Elijah said nothing. The shadows clung to him like armor.
Gazef didn't press. "...If you're here to protect us, I'll accept it. If not—warn me before you move."
A pause.
Elijah gave a single nod.
Elsewhere — Slane Theocracy Encampment
The priest's hand shook as he crushed the divine crystal.
"Answer me, servant of heaven! Grant us judgment!"
The forest split open with a howl of light.
Dominion Authority descended.
Ten wings unfurled. Its halo spun with divine flame. Trees bent away from its presence. Mana cried.
The Re-Estize troops froze.
Gazef's men stumbled back, blinded by holy radiance.
"Protect Lord Gazef!" one shouted.
"No," said Elijah.
They turned. He was already walking forward.
The Judgment Begins
Dominion Authority raised its staff.
The light concentrated.
It fired.
The blast never landed.
Something shimmered in the air—then unraveled the beam.
Mimic flowed from Elijah's shoulders, spreading across his chest like armor made of smoke and intent. Where the light struck, it hissed—and vanished.
Elijah raised one hand.
A circle of blood hovered around him—daggers orbiting like teeth in a silent scream.
They launched.
One sliced through a priest's throat mid-chant.
Another buried itself into Dominion Authority's shoulder, drawing ichor from a being that shouldn't bleed.
The angel screamed.
Elijah vanished.
He reappeared behind it—Ninja precision. Fighter speed.
His palm touched the angel's lower back.
A Rogue trap triggered instantly—frost and bone lashing upward like a coffin snapping shut.
The angel flailed. Its wing shattered through the spell, barely escaping.
Mimic morphed mid-air—becoming a twin scythe that Elijah wielded one-handed.
He leapt.
And he danced.
The Execution
Dominion Authority lashed out with divine fire.
Elijah stepped sideways—into shadow.
It swung again.
He was above it.
The blade came down, and the light died around it. Bloodless cuts. Surgical. Impossible.
The angel tried to fly.
Elijah snapped his fingers.
The air warped.
A Master of Death aura flared—a 15-foot radius of pure entropy. Wings withered. Magic faltered.
The angel dropped.
Elijah landed atop it, blade at its throat.
"You judged the innocent," he whispered.
Mimic became a spike.
It drove straight through its halo.
Dominion Authority spasmed—then crumbled to ash beneath him.
The priests screamed.
Elijah didn't turn.
The remaining clerics turned to flee—
They didn't make it three steps.
Aftermath
The forest returned to silence.
Ash drifted where wings had once beaten. The priest's robes smoldered like fallen leaves.
Elijah stood alone in the wreckage. Not panting. Not bloodied.
Untouched.
Gazef approached slowly, sword still drawn—but low.
He stared at the ruin.
"You just… erased it."
Elijah turned his head slightly. "It was unworthy of fear."
Gazef gave a dry laugh. "That's… one way to put it."
He stepped closer.
"You saved my men. You could've let them die."
"I was sent to protect you."
"That wasn't an order you liked, was it?"
"No," Elijah admitted. "But it was right."
A pause. Then—
Gazef extended a hand.
Elijah looked at it. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn't move.
Then he shook it. Once. Firm.
They said nothing more.
But in that moment, something like trust was born.
Far above, within Nazarick
Ainz stood before a projection, arms folded, watching the carnage play out.
Albedo knelt beside him, silent and glowing with pride.
"He dispatched Dominion Authority as if it were a training dummy," she said.
"It was," Ainz replied softly.
He stared at Elijah—now fading into shadow, already gone from the battlefield.
"That was not a fight," he said. "That was a message."
Albedo's voice was reverent. "Shall I send for him?"
Ainz shook his head.
"No. Let him return when he's ready. Let the world whisper first."
He turned from the mirror.
"But soon… they will learn what it means when a phantom walks beside a god."