Arrival in an isekai

"Allow Sebas to enter," you command, and the massive doors to the throne room swing open silently. With a gesture to the dungeon's consciousness, you add, "Create a doppelganger of Iselhart for questioning and prepare it to replace the adventurer in the outside world. Forward Sebas's report to Mare, Aura, Demiurge, and Jibril."

The air shivers with acknowledgment. "Creating doppelganger entity. Parameters set to match subject: Iselhart. Biological and memory templates extracted from final neural activity. Communications network established to specified guardians."

Sebas Tian enters the throne room with measured steps, his silver hair immaculately styled despite his reconnaissance mission. He kneels with perfect form, one hand placed elegantly over his heart.

"My creator, I have returned with the information you requested," he states, his voice carrying the refined dignity of the dragon-blooded butler you designed him to be.

"Rise and report," you command, conscious of Albedo standing poised at your side.

Sebas rises smoothly. "The surrounding forest extends approximately thirty kilometers in all directions before giving way to grasslands in the south and mountains to the north. We encountered seventeen distinct species of magical beasts, none exceeding what would be considered level 25 in YGGDRASIL terms."

As he speaks, you sense the dungeon's consciousness distributing his words to the other guardians you specified. In the depths of the sixth floor, Mare pauses in tending his plants, listening intently. On the outer perimeter, Aura's heterochromatic eyes narrow as she processes the information while directing her beasts. Deep within the seventh floor's volcanic landscape, Demiurge smiles thinly, adding Sebas's intelligence to his own calculations.

"We discovered three small human settlements within twenty kilometers," Sebas continues. "The largest holds perhaps five hundred inhabitants and appears to be a logging community. Their defensive capabilities are minimal—wooden palisades and untrained militia."

In a separate chamber unlike any other in Nazarick—a vast library spanning impossible dimensions with books floating in anti-gravity spirals—Jibril's ears perk up at the mention of human settlements. The Flügel's wings shift slightly, iridescent feathers catching non-existent light as she absorbs the information while continuing her cataloging of knowledge.

"The humans speak a language similar to the common tongue of YGGDRASIL, though with regional variations I was able to comprehend," Sebas adds. "They appear to be subjects of a larger kingdom called 'Re-Estize,' located to the south-southwest, which aligns with the mana concentration the dungeon detected."

Behind you, a shimmer of energy coalesces into a perfect replica of Iselhart—the hunter whose death you witnessed moments ago. The doppelganger stands unnaturally still, awaiting programming.

"Most significantly," Sebas continues, apparently unperturbed by the doppelganger's creation, "we detected traces of items that might originate from YGGDRASIL. Solution identified residual mana signatures approximately forty kilometers northeast that matched patterns from the World Item database."

Your interest sharpens. World Items—the most powerful artifacts from YGGDRASIL, with reality-altering capabilities. If others have been transported to this world with such items...

"There are rumors among the villagers," Sebas concludes, "of 'godly beings' that descended upon a mountain range called the Azerlisia Mountains several centuries ago. They speak of these beings with reverence, attributing the foundation of their nation to their influence."

The doppelganger of Iselhart steps forward, its movement now perfectly mimicking the hunter's gait. "Programming complete," the dungeon announces in your mind. "Doppelganger unit ready for deployment with full behavioral patterns and memories of subject Iselhart. Unit will maintain scheduled communication protocols with Nazarick."

"And what of the human's equipment?" you inquire, glancing at the doppelganger's replicated gear.

"Analysis complete," the dungeon responds. "Primarily mundane with two exceptions: the sword contains low-level enchantments equivalent to YGGDRASIL Tier 1 enhancements, and a concealed amulet bears protective magic of approximately Tier 2 quality."

Sebas awaits your response, the perfect servant poised for his next instructions, while the doppelganger stands ready to assume its role in the outside world—your first agent planted among the native population.

"Excellent report Sebas," you say with a satisfied nod. With a mere thought, you command the dungeon to end the broadcast to the other guardians. The silver-haired butler bows deeply, his duty fulfilled.

You turn your attention to the newly created doppelganger standing motionless nearby, a perfect replica of the fallen hunter Iselhart. "Confirm the information from Sebas's report and add any necessary details before beginning your deployment."

The doppelganger's eyes focus with sudden awareness. When it speaks, its voice matches the gruff tone of the hunter perfectly. "The logging settlement nearest to us is called Woodhaven, located southeast along the Azerlisia foothills. Two smaller hamlets—Frostbrook and Willowdale—lie within half a day's journey from there. The forest itself is known as the Great Forest of Tob to locals, though the eastern section where your domain manifested is called the Whisperwind Vale due to unusual wind patterns."

The doppelganger continues, "The Re-Estize Kingdom maintains minimal presence this far north. The closest military outpost is Fort Asterisk, three days' ride south, garrisoned by perhaps fifty men. Most travel between settlements happens via merchant caravans that follow the Old King's Road, which passes ten kilometers west of your position."

With a gesture, you dismiss the doppelganger, who bows and strides purposefully toward the exit, ready to assume Iselhart's identity in the world beyond.

"Albedo," you instruct, turning to your elegant overseer, "arrange for expendable infiltration of each settlement and comprehensive mapping. Have Demiurge test all available spells, abilities, and items with consumable components that we can replace."

Albedo places a hand over her heart and bows. "It shall be done precisely as you command, Lord Blank. I will coordinate with Demiurge immediately."

"I will visit Jibril," you announce, and before Albedo can respond, you activate your teleportation magic.You adjust your clothing discretely as you settle onto the obsidian throne, Albedo's knowing gaze following your every movement. The massive double doors at the far end of the chamber swing open precisely as you straighten your posture, revealing Shalltear Bloodfallen's diminutive figure. Her pale features contrast sharply with her gothic lolita dress as she glides across the polished floor with supernatural grace.

"Lord Blank," she announces with a curtsy so deep her silver hair nearly brushes the floor, "I have returned with the intelligence you requested."

With a casual gesture, you activate the dungeon's communication network. Magical screens materialize around the throne room, displaying Mare, Aura, Demiurge, Sebas, and Jibril, each in their respective domains. The dungeon consciousness efficiently compiles Sebas's earlier report and the doppelganger's observations into a comprehensive briefing that appears beside each guardian's image.

"Proceed with your findings, Shalltear," you command, leaning back against the throne's cool surface.

The vampire's crimson eyes gleam with pride as she begins. "My undead scouts have mapped a radius of approximately one hundred kilometers, my lord. The forest extends thirty-two kilometers to the east before giving way to the foothills of the Azerlisia Mountains. To the south, we have confirmed the presence of the Re-Estize Kingdom's northernmost settlements."

She gestures, and a three-dimensional map materializes above the floor, glowing with points of magical light representing settlements, roads, and geographical features.

"Three significant magical anomalies were detected," Shalltear continues, marking pulsing red dots on the projection. "The first appears to be a dragon's lair in the mountain range—likely an adult frost dragon based on the mana signature. The second is a sealed ruin approximately seventy kilometers southwest, emanating magic consistent with YGGDRASIL tier-six enchantments. The third..." she hesitates slightly, "appears to be a magical item in transit, moving along this trade route toward the capital."

Demiurge's image leans forward with interest. "The item's signature matches World Class Item patterns, though significantly degraded from what we would expect in YGGDRASIL."

"Excellent work," you acknowledge, examining the map carefully. "Anything else of note?"

Shalltear nods, her delicate features displaying satisfaction. "We've identified several human settlements beyond those Sebas discovered—twenty-six villages and three towns within our surveillance radius. Most are unremarkable, though one village called Carne appears to have unusually strong defenses for its size. Additionally, the undead detected unusual activity near the southern edge of the forest—a band of mercenaries seems to be establishing a camp, though their purpose remains unclear."

After absorbing the details, you dismiss the communication screens with a casual wave. "Thank you, Shalltear. You may return to your floor."

The vampire bows deeply once more, a hint of disappointment crossing her features at the brevity of the interaction. "As you command, Lord Blank."

Once Shalltear has departed, you rise from your throne and approach Albedo, who has been standing attentively throughout the briefing. Without a word, you grasp her waist and activate your teleportation magic.

Reality warps around you both, the grand throne room dissolving into motes of light before reforming as Albedo's private chambers. Unlike the gothic architecture dominating much of Nazarick, her personal quarters blend elegance with sensuality—silk draperies in midnight blue cascading from a canopied bed, intricate silver filigree adorning ebony furniture, and subtle magical illumination casting everything in an intimate glow.

With merely a thought, Albedo's elaborate dress vanishes, leaving her alabaster perfection bare before you. Her golden eyes widen with desire as you waste no time in claiming her, your passion matched only by her enthusiastic response. She moans your name with reverent adoration as you drive into her, her wings unfurling involuntarily with each wave of pleasure.

"My lord... my beloved creator," she gasps, nails digging into your shoulders as you establish a rhythm that would shatter any mortal woman.

Hours pass in a blur of primal connection, the night marked by Albedo's increasingly euphoric cries. The succubus's supernatural stamina proves a worthy match for your eldritch endurance, though eventually even she reaches her limits. After countless climaxes—each one meticulously recorded in your perfect memory—her body finally succumbs to complete exhaustion.

You rest your head upon her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat as she slumbers beneath you. Though sleep is unnecessary for your new form, you deliberately slow your thoughts, mimicking the restful state you once knew as human. It's a curious exercise—part nostalgia, part experiment—as you ponder how much of your original humanity remains within your excessively over-detailed new form.

In this moment of artificial repose, cradled against Albedo's unconscious form, you find yourself contemplating not just the world that awaits conquest beyond these walls, but also the subtle transformation occurring within yourself—the gradual evolution from human to the new race you had created back in YGGDRASSIL.

You awaken nestled between Albedo's ample breasts, the succubus still slumbering peacefully after your night of passion. The existential concerns that troubled you before seem trivial now. What does it matter what species you once were? As long as you retain your intellect and don't sound like some unqualified cultivation novel antagonist, your identity remains intact.

With a mischievous grin, you trail your fingers along Albedo's alabaster skin, rousing her from sleep. Her golden eyes flutter open, a smile blooming across her perfect features.

"Good morning, my lord," she purrs, wings unfurling slightly beneath you.

You lead her to the adjoining bathing chamber—a vast marble space with steaming pools large enough for a dozen beings. Under cascading water, you continue your intimate explorations, Albedo's delighted gasps echoing off the ornate walls.

"We have work to do," you finally declare, giving her one last lingering kiss before departing her chambers.

The throne room awaits you, its cavernous space humming with the ambient power of Nazarick. You settle onto your obsidian seat and send your first mental command.

'Demiurge, investigate the potential World Item detected by Shalltear's scouts. Use proxies only—no entity above level 75 is to approach. If authentic, acquire it through stealth or expendable wave tactics.'

The response comes immediately, Demiurge's voice resonating directly in your mind. "As you wish, Lord Blank. I shall deploy my shadow demons for reconnaissance and prepare Iguva=41's undead regiment as potential fodder. The World Item will be yours by week's end."

You direct your thoughts next to Aura. 'Locate the frost dragon identified in the Azerlisia Mountains. Summon Mare or Cocytus for backup if needed. Dominate the creature if possible; otherwise, retrieve the corpse for resurrection and resource harvesting. All books and scrolls to Jibril, treasures reported to Demiurge.'

"I'll depart immediately, Lord Blank!" Aura's enthusiastic voice rings in your thoughts. "I've been wanting to add a frost dragon to my collection anyway!"

As Albedo enters the throne room, now impeccably dressed in her white gown, you issue your final order. 'Assemble a team to investigate the sealed ruins southwest of our position. The tier-six enchantments warrant caution—proceed methodically.'

Albedo bows deeply. "I shall lead the expedition personally, my lord. Perhaps Solution Epsilon and Entoma would be appropriate specialists for this task."

Satisfied with your delegations, you rise from the throne and conjure a full-length mirror before you. For several minutes, you experiment with your shape-shifting abilities, morphing from your current form to that of a regal elf lord, then a burly dwarven warrior, a slender human merchant, and even briefly into a perfect copy of Sebas—each transformation executed flawlessly.

With a thought, you teleport to the 1102nd floor. The multidimensional library materializes around you, books floating in elegant spirals through impossible geometries. Jibril hovers near a central crystal podium, her wings creating gentle currents that ripple through nearby tomes.

"My lord!" she exclaims, descending gracefully to kneel before you. "I've prepared several candidate worlds as you requested."

"What if," you muse, "we introduced konosuba female goblins and orcs to a world with pedophile world-laws? The chaos could be entertaining."

Jibril's eyes gleam with mischievous intelligence. "An inspired concept, my lord! The moral dissonance would create fascinating ripple effects throughout their societal structure." She gestures to the podium, where a crystalline scroll unfurls. "As for today's report, I've identified three prime candidates for interdimensional exploration."

The scroll displays shifting images of different realms—one a cyberpunk metropolis where technology has replaced magic entirely, another a pastoral landscape where inhabitants live in perfect harmony with nature spirits, and a third showing a world locked in eternal twilight where vampiric aristocracy rules over human serfs.

"Would you care to accompany me on a small excursion first?" you ask. "There appears to be some commotion brewing at a village called Carne."

Jibril's wings flutter with excitement. "It would be my greatest honor to observe you interact with this world's natives, my lord."

With a gesture, you open a teleportation gate. Stepping through together, you and Jibril materialize at the outskirts of the Great Forest of Tob, the village of Carne visible in the distance across open fields.

"Let us observe from above," you suggest, casting flight magic on both yourself and Jibril, though she hardly needs it with her magnificent wings.

As you rise into the cloud cover, you notice the village appears peaceful enough—thatched roofs, wooden palisades, farmers beginning their morning work. Yet approaching from the south, you spot them—armored knights bearing the insignia of the Baharuth Empire, imperial knights from the Slane Theocracy, disguised in Baharuth Empire armor to provoke conflict between the Empire and Re-Estize Kingdom, moving in formation toward the unsuspecting settlement.

"How fascinating," Jibril comments, floating beside you. "It appears we've arrived just in time to witness a slaughter." A young red-haired girl named Enri Emmot lives in the village with her family - in the original timeline, she would have received two Horn of the Goblin General items from Ainz and become an important ally. Jibril recognizes this as a pivotal moment from the Overlord series but is waiting to see if you will make the same choices as the protagonist from the fiction she's familiar with.

"Or perhaps," you reply thoughtfully, "just in time to intervene, the question is, how I want to do so."

Below, the imperial knights begin to fan out around the village, preparing to encircle it completely.

Your body divides with a shimmering ripple, splitting into two identical forms that remain connected through an invisible thread of telepathy. Both versions of you descend from the clouds with purpose—one heading toward the forest edge behind Enri's home, the other becoming invisible as it hovers toward the village center.

The first body settles into position among the trees, watching as a young red-haired girl and her younger sister flee from their home. Their parents have already been cut down, and imperial knights pursue with irritation. The elder girl—Enri Emmot—trips and falls, covering her smaller sister with her body as a knight raises his sword for the killing blow.

You gesture casually, and the knight freezes mid-swing before collapsing alongside his companion, both overcome by your sleep spell.

"Who—who are you?" Enri gasps, clutching her trembling sister protectively. Blood seeps from scrapes on her knees and elbows.

"Someone with the power to save you," you reply, stepping from the treeline. With another gesture, healing light bathes both girls, mending their wounds instantly. As you look at the girls and appraise them you're momentarily confused, this Enri is 18 and Nemu is 11, meaning this is not the true-original overlord world.

Enri's eyes widen in wonder, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please, the village—everyone is in danger! My parents—" Her voice breaks as realization crashes over her.

"I can help you," you say, your voice simultaneously comforting and commanding. "But I require something in return. Both you and your sister will belong to me—as both women and property—until you find husbands. In exchange, I will grant you one request."

Enri hesitates, looking at her little sister Nemu, who stares up at you with frightened eyes.

"Don't worry about the village," you assure them. "My other self is already handling the situation."

Meanwhile, your second body hovers invisibly over the village square, watching the imperial knights terrorize the villagers. A bearded man stands protectively before his daughter as a sneering noble advances.

"Please, sir knight! She's just a girl!" pleads Yorick Sturum, a middle-aged carpenter.

The soldier—actually a disguised Slane Theocracy noble—laughs cruelly. "The Empire's soldiers take what they want, peasant."

With a casual thrust, he drives his sword through Yorick's chest. As the man collapses, his daughter Lisara screams, her chestnut hair falling across her face as she drops to her knees beside her father.

"Father! No, please!" The nineteen-year-old clutches at his blood-soaked tunic, her green eyes wide with horror.

Before the noble can advance on Lisara, you materialize between them, your hands already completing the gestures for Mass Greater Hold Person. Every soldier in the square freezes mid-motion, paralyzed by your magic.

"What sorcery is this?" Captain Belius demands, the only one whose lips can still move, though his body remains immobilized.

You ignore him, raising your arms toward the sky. "Mass Summon High Tier Angel!"

The heavens seem to split as ten radiant forms descend—Cherubim Gatekeepers, their six wings spreading wide as they hover above the terrified villagers. Divine light bathes the square, and waves of holy righteousness wash over everyone present.

You turn to the sobbing Lisara, kneeling beside her. "Your father died protecting you. I can offer you justice—or revenge."

With a wave of your hand, a gleaming sword materializes before her—not so powerful as to cleave through armor effortlessly, but strong enough to penetrate with determined effort.

"Take this blade and claim the life of your father's murderer," you offer. "The price is your loyalty for the rest of your days."

A villager—old Melvin the baker—steps forward hesitantly. "Girl, don't listen! It's a devil's bargain!"

Lisara ignores him, her hand closing around the sword's hilt. She rises, tears streaming down her dirt-smudged face. "For my father," she whispers.

You discreetly store Yorick's body in your inventory while all eyes focus on Lisara as she approaches the paralyzed noble. With a scream of rage, she drives the blade into a gap in his armor. The noble shrieks as the steel penetrates flesh.

Again and again she strikes, her movements growing wilder with each blow. Blood sprays across her simple homespun dress as she hacks at his body. The noble's screams gradually diminish to whimpers, then silence.

Meanwhile, your first body has received Enri's agreement. "We accept," she says, her voice small but determined. "Please save the village."

You lift both girls into your arms, giving Enri a slow, gentle kiss that makes her blush furiously despite her fear. You pepper Nemu's face with light kisses until she giggles and pushes you away.

Carrying them back toward their home, you confront them with their parents' corpses. "Expose your chests," you command gently.

Trembling, both girls comply. You cast Create Greater Magic Tattoo centered on their chests, followed by Contract of Slavery on their necks. Intricate magical designs appear on their skin, pulsing with power.

"These can be made invisible with a thought," you explain. "They mark you as mine."

You press two curved horns into Enri's hands. "Horn of the Goblin General," you explain. "Use them when you need protection."

Before she can respond, you turn and slowly walk out the front door while casting Shallow Grave. The corpses of the Emmot parents shudder, color returning to their gray faces as their wounds knit closed. They gasp simultaneously, drawing breath as life returns to their bodies.

Enri's eyes roll back, and she collapses in a dead faint.

In the village square, Lisara finally drops the sword, her strength exhausted after repeatedly stabbing the noble's corpse. You step beside her, supporting her trembling. With a wave of your hand, you cleanse the blood from her clothing and skin.

"Rest now," you murmur, guiding her toward her home as your first body approaches the square. The villagers watch in fearful awe as you mentally command one of the Cherubim to retrieve the sleeping knights from the forest.

Silently, you also send a message to your dungeon: "Send six shadow demons to protect my new property."

Captain Belius, still frozen in place, watches you with calculating eyes. "Who are you?" he manages to ask through barely moving lips.

"Someone you should never have crossed," both of your bodies reply in perfect unison.

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