Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

"I will share everything I have achieved with you!"

Section 17: Contact with the World

For the witches, the distance between the material universe and the spiritual universe is actually only a step. The conclusion can be reached simply by taking a step, and when their toes touch the ground, time begins to operate on this continent where the protagonist of the script resides—a world deliberately ignored and whose time flow has been adjusted by the warring parties.

The plot is frozen in time, several days after the skeletal mage, now known as Ainz Ooal Gown, took control of a village called Carne and clashed with a special task force dispatched by the Theocracy, one of the world's several nations, annihilating them.

It's a very simple story. In a kingdom called the Kingdom, there lived a powerful warrior captain. The neighboring theocracy saw him as a threat and dispatched a secret force, disguised as knights from another empire called the Empire, to scavenger villages along the Kingdom's border. Their aim was to lure the warrior captain and his confidants out and then kill them using traps, ambushes, and special tools.

What is the special item? — It's a crystal containing a beacon connecting to the High Heavens. Using it, one can summon an angel from the High Heavens to this land through a contract. This angel will then help the summoner vanquish evil—provided the summoner is not evil themselves.

Originally, an angel named 'Zisaborin' was to be summoned to this land. However, due to interference with fate, the script was manipulated, and a single change had far-reaching consequences. Therefore, instead of 'Zisaborin', a weaker angel of comparable strength was summoned. Fortunately, the outcome remained largely unchanged, as the substitute angel quickly perished under Ainz Ooal Gown's magic, just like 'Zisaborin' from many eras ago.

If the general principles remain unchanged, then the details don't matter. And perhaps because of the connection with 'Sabbath', Alice chose to descend to the very wilderness where the angels fell.

The ground was no longer hot, and the despairing aura left behind by the undead a few days earlier had long since dissipated in the wind. Tender grass sprouted from the soil, which had been revitalized by the rain, and stretched its delicate leaves in the sunlight filtering through the clouds.

Alice reached out and touched the tiny blade of grass at her feet—she gazed at its past and present, and then, with a slight surprise, discovered that this grass had existed even before the battle began several days earlier. Unlike the original script, it had survived Ainz Ooal Gown's magical cleansing and was able to revive in the future several days later.

—Though the change is small, it is still a change. Because the summoned angel has changed, Ainz Ooal Gown, who originally intended to test the world's top combat power, has also changed his strategy. Instead of gradually testing the power and causing large-scale environmental damage, he directly uses a powerful single-point destruction technique to destroy the descending angel.

This plant, and many other wild grasses in the area, survived for this reason. They adapted to the despairing spiritual energy of the undead, causing changes in their internal structure. In the future Alice foresaw, it would even gradually acquire the ability to absorb energy and solidify itself, undergoing multiple mutations. Two months later, it would become a demonized plant community; four years later, it would develop primal intelligence. A hundred years later, it would even merge with the ecosystem of this wasteland, constructing a collective consciousness, thus transforming into a forest spirit with a long lifespan!

Then, she will die.

Because a century later, the kingdoms that once existed on this land no longer existed, but the Great Tomb of Nazarick, built by otherworldly beings, still ruled this land. When her consciousness began to take shape, a mid-level undead took a liking to her, and soon after she was born as a forest spirit, she was captured by this undead, her body melted, her soul extracted, and along with many other materials, she was made into a staff for casting spells.

Her physical form decayed, and her soul remained within the core of the staff for countless ages. Then, one day, the Great Tomb itself met its end. The undead, now a high-ranking lich, fled in panic during the war, carrying the staff, never expecting that its spellcasting tool would betray it at the most crucial moment.

Time continued to flow, centuries, millennia… Otherworldly beings came and went, casually reshaping this world. And within the ruins known as the Nazarick Ruins, a blade of grass sprouting from a broken staff unknowingly connected the entire ruins, eventually devouring them all. And one day, a being later known as the Lady of the Forest was born, and accompanying her immense power was nature's endless rage against the undead.

Before she fell into eternal slumber, she wiped out over 95 percent of the undead on this entire planetary plane. Her eternal slumber did not signify death, for she had become an automated mechanism, a purge. Whenever the number of undead on this land exceeded a certain limit, she would return from her eternal slumber, unleashing a verdant storm upon this world.

So Alice withdrew her hand.

“Patch,” Patsy said, “which is right, which is better: to live a short life as a weed, oblivious and unaware, or to live for millennia as an intelligent being, enduring pain, torment, and boundless hatred and rage?”

“…I don’t know.” Patchouli’s brows remained furrowed. “…It’s strange, very strange indeed. Even now, I still can’t come to a definitive conclusion…It wasn’t like this before. Yet now, in my eyes, it doesn’t matter which side they’re on.”

"Is this a bad thing, Alice?"

“It’s not a bad thing.” Alice shook her head slightly. “At least for me, it’s not.”

"For you...?" Patchouli was slightly taken aback, but a moment later, a sense of understanding rose in her heart. "...It's the impact of the Path of Transcendence?"

“You have to find the answer yourself. I can tell you what I’ve learned, but I don’t think I should guide you on your path. After all, you and I are different, Patchouli.” She reached out and removed the barrier between them and the world, allowing the world and all living beings in it to recognize her and Patchouli. “After all, I am the change, and you are the keeper. Although we are one, we are fundamentally different.”

“Let’s go, we still have a lot to see.” She took Patchouli’s hand and continued walking.

Now it was Patchouli's turn to be confused.

How interesting! Whether it was the confusion in her heart or the current situation—Patchouli remembered that it was she who had proposed the travel strategy. However, she didn't expect Alice to look so enlightened now, while she herself became completely bewildered.

That's strange, but so be it. It's good that Alice has gained something; as for my own affairs... I can deal with those later.

Patchouli's heart calmed down, and she temporarily suppressed the sudden confusion within her. She discovered that walking on foot with Alice across the fields, rather than directly teleporting through the spacetime axis, was actually quite enjoyable. She noticed that Alice had removed the barrier between herself and the world, and she clearly didn't feel the need to close it again.

With no longer a barrier between God and the world, all living beings will naturally be able to recognize God's existence and communicate with Him. While we don't know the exact reasons behind Alice's decision, there must be a reason behind it.

Alice...it's been a long time since I've had this kind of interaction with the world.

Patchouli remembered clearly that ever since Alice advanced to the fourth level, or the true god stage, she had always been in a state of being separated from the world by a layer—no, perhaps even before that, when she was only at the limit of the fourth level and had not yet touched the boundary of the fourth level, Alice was often like this.

She doesn't engage with the world, nor with the living things in it, nor allows them to engage with her. She observes the many stories across the continents without participating in them; from beginning to end, she acts as an observer, an interpreter, rather than an intervenor.

Why would she do that? Patchouli had a couple of guesses in her mind. Because she didn't want to, and didn't like, being influenced by the many factors in the cycle of reincarnation, she simply avoided them from the beginning—which made Alice's adventure like a book behind a transparent glass partition. The contents could still be read, and the story could still unfold. But everything seemed to be separated by a layer, always leaving one with a feeling of wanting more.

Alice... must have realized, or rather foreseen, the method for climbing the path of transcendence at that time. That's why she made that decision. And this way of doing things clearly made her seem more like a god during the long years of exploration, rather than one of those mortals who merely possessed divine power.

This is not surprising. On the stage of the Moon World, all the True Gods of the Central Continent Team basically have this sense of isolation from the outside world, as if all living beings in the world are mere dust. It is even very possible that Alice was the first to reach the end of True Godhood through this method, and even touched the edge of transcendent power.

[However, now she has abandoned that approach. No longer looking down upon the world and its stories, she joins in, becoming a part of the story herself—has she progressed? Or has she made a breakthrough in some area?]

Patchouli tilted her head.

It's a pity that things are no longer like they were many years ago, when they were both just mortals or ordinary extraordinary beings. Back then, they could instantly know each other's thoughts and intentions simply by looking at each other. However, since they achieved the Light of the Mind, transforming from mass-produced life into independent individuals, from false objects into true beings, they can no longer read each other's minds as easily as before.

She could still discern most of Alice's thoughts, but most of them were not the whole picture. Just as there's a world of difference between 99% and 100%. Missing even the slightest detail would distance one from the true outcome by an unparalleled margin.

For example, right now, in Patchouli's eyes, her Alice is simply strolling around, casually examining the past and present of everything around her and comparing it with their original fate. But why Alice does this, she doesn't fully understand.

Ah, yes, I can't understand it. Just as she couldn't understand the difference between the 'right' and 'wrong' that Alice had proposed, just as she couldn't understand why she couldn't even reach such a simple conclusion.

Which is better, a short and mediocre life or a long but painful one? Isn't this a very simple question? But why, why can't I come to a conclusion?

[Ugh, honestly, I decided not to think about this right now. Alice hasn't finished her theory yet, so I'd better not cause her any trouble at this time.]

Patchouli shook her head, then followed Alice's example and observed the fate of the mortals around her—however, she lost interest after a couple of glances—the fates of these mortals had indeed all changed, but what did these changes have to do with her?

All she could do, or was interested in doing, was record and preserve the contents of these many fates. Beyond that, all of this was meaningless to her—because she truly could not find any meaning in them.

So, for the second time, she tried to pull her thoughts away from this perplexing problem and instead focus them on the real world that was interacting with her.

She listened to the sound of the wind and felt the fragrance of flowers—when she simply recorded the phenomena instead of directly analyzing their structural formulas, energy models, and causal nodes, she discovered that the world was actually quite beautiful.

Beautiful, simply beautiful. Beautiful because of their simplicity. But what value do they possess besides beauty?

Patchouli felt as if a thousand adjectives were bubbling up inside her, ready to materialize and burst forth. Her knowledge was enough to allow her to describe the value of even a single grain of sand from hundreds or thousands of perspectives. Yet, when the words reached her lips, only silence came out.

They have no value. Absolutely no value. Even beauty itself has no value.

Thoughts raced through Patchouli's mind, and when she interrupted this process for the third time, she found herself doing only one thing—recording, containing, and preserving the messages of everything she had encountered on the earth. Nothing else.

They have no value, they are neither right nor wrong.

—They only need to record and save; all other additional attributes are useless.

A vague realization dawned on Patchouli's mind. Just then, Alice, who was leading her forward, suddenly stopped.

“Let’s rest here for a while, Patchouli,” Alice said. Not far in front of them was a village under reconstruction. Several elderly, weak, and disabled villagers stood at a distance, craning their necks and casting curious yet wary glances at the two witches who had revealed their true forms.

This is Karn Village, the first human settlement that Ainz Ooal Gown, the otherworldly traveler, encountered after his arrival. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, his lair, is located not far from this village. And naturally, this village is constantly under the watchful eye of the Great Tomb.

—That gaze shone like a lighthouse in Patchouli's eyes. And its focus was shifting towards the direction where the witches were.

Chapter 18. The Sky of Transformation

A wolf.

A red wolf.

A red-furred she-wolf who can transform into human or half-human form and belongs to the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

The wolf's name is Lupus Regina Beta. She is a creation of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the second member of the maidservant group accompanying Ainz Ooal Gown. After Ainz Ooal Gown, disguised as a wandering spellcaster, rescued the village of Karn from the Theocracy's special forces and used it as bait to gain intelligence against the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Lupus Regina Beta was dispatched to the vicinity of the village as an informant and limited protector.

Protection—she didn't really like protection. After all, she was a wolf, a wolf inclined towards evil and slaughter. She craved blood and torment far more than gratitude and thanks. But more than the instincts in her blood, she valued the loyalty etched deep in her heart to her one and only master. And since it was her master's command, no matter how unwilling she was, she decided to obey it to the end.

Perhaps, rather than a wild wolf, she should be called a domesticated dog. After all, the only difference between wolves and dogs is their domestication versus their wild nature. Isn't that right?

Ah, whatever that happens, compared to that, I'd much rather have some stupid thing come out so I could chop it up!

As usual, she perched atop a towering tree, casually yet meticulously observing the village from afar. And her perspective hadn't changed much from the week before.

The village remained the same. After receiving a horn-shaped item from Ainz Ooal Gown that allowed her to summon goblins, the mortal girl named Anri successfully summoned more than a dozen intelligent goblins, who helped her repair the village, which had been nearly destroyed in the previous war.

At first, the villagers were very afraid of them, but after about ten days, the old, weak, sick, and disabled who remained had largely adapted to their presence. Thus, fear gradually transformed into acceptance and gratitude.

After all, monsters are stronger than ordinary humans, and with the help of the goblins, the village's restoration progressed exceptionally smoothly. And perhaps it was precisely because of the existence of these goblins that the girl named Anri gradually gained control of the village—perhaps she herself didn't yet realize it, but it seemed only a matter of time before she became the village chief.

The wolf didn't care whether the girl could become village chief—why would a diner care about the status of food? She didn't care, but she quite disliked...or hated the goblins. Because they were clearly summoned by the wolf's master's old tools, yet they were more loyal to that ordinary mortal girl than to the supreme being they should truly worship!

Wolf couldn't help but lick her teeth—even when she was alone, she was used to hiding all her killing intent behind a cheerful smile—and feeling the sharp touch from the tip of her tongue, the killing intent surging in her blood grew even stronger!

[Ah, I want to kill her, tear open her neck, and suck her blood dry! Tear her ribs off one by one, and then force the mortals she protected to swallow them, bone and all!]

The wolf's eyes were bloodshot, and a wicked, dark lust for slaughter was boiling intensely. Yet her loyalty and duty bound her firmly to the tree, forcing her to retract her claws and calm her racing heart.

"No, I cannot disobey my master's orders. Lord Ainz ordered me to protect Carne Village, so at least until that order is revoked, these mortals cannot die under my nose. Aaaaaah, you scum, just you wait! One day Lord Ainz will lose interest in you! And when that happens, you will pay a hundredfold for the crime that caused Lups Regina so much suffering!"

The wolf collapsed limply, but the next moment, she suddenly regained her energy!

She suddenly remembered that a couple of scholars and bards had come to the village of Karn a few days earlier. Although the purple-haired one only told boring stories, and the blond one only tinkered with clumsy puppet shows, the two were undeniably rare beauties among mortals!

A beautiful woman's heart and a warrior's courage—both are foods that wolves crave. More importantly, the two women were only temporarily staying in the village, not its inhabitants. In other words, once they left Karn village, he could immediately feast!

Oh dear, oh dear, I almost forgot about this great thing!

The wolf's fake smile widened with the curve of her lips, her whole being brimming with fighting spirit and passion for her work. In the blink of an eye, she slid down from the tree. Then, with cheerful and light steps, she headed towards the direction of Kahn Village.

She had already submitted the relevant information to the Great Tomb of Nazarick when the pair arrived in the village. Her master's response was 'ignore it.' Ah, that's right, Karn Village isn't some particularly remote village. The comings and goings of merchants, bards, adventure teams, and all sorts of people are a natural and common occurrence. And even if they really did have some problems…

[Could a mere mortal's disguise possibly fool the floor guardians, or even Lord Ainz himself?]

The wolf knew her master's style; the far-sighted supreme being would never overlook even the slightest change—the exalted Lord of the Undead had indeed given the instruction 'ignore it.' But the wolf maid also knew that less than two minutes after she reported it, the wise Demiurge, one of the floor guardians, had been dispatched to investigate, and had left silently a few minutes later.

The result is obvious.

—They were just two ordinary mortals. Well, perhaps relatively strong among mortals, given their willingness to wander the wilderness without guards. Therefore, their life level of approximately fifteen to seventeen, obtained through the detection tool, is a reasonable conclusion. In this weak world, they might be considered mid-to-high-level adventurers, but that's about it.

Fifteen to seventeen, while Lupus Lecchina Beta's level is fifty-nine. Literally speaking, the difference in their passive abilities alone is enough to instantly kill each other. This realization brought her increasing pleasure.

Ah, the blood of a pure maiden, it must taste better than that of those foolish priests. What kind of agonizing screams will escape the throats of the survivors if one is torn apart in front of the other?

Her smile grew increasingly exaggerated, then gradually subsided as she approached the village. After all, she had contributed to the reconstruction of the village for these reptiles. Having shown her face a few times, it would be better to maintain a semblance of composure for the subsequent mission.

She arrived at the village entrance, still bearing the marks of repairs, with practiced ease. The clueless villagers greeted her as they saw her. She smiled and responded to each one, silently cursing them a thousand times over in her mind.

"Good morning, Miss Lupsrechina." A bolder young man approached her, offering a hesitant smile while looking at her with renewed courage. "Is there something you need?"

"I've been a bit bored lately and wanted to find something to do. I was planning to listen to those two scholars tell a story." — A bloody and sensual tale.

“Oh! Lupus Lecina, you’ve come at just the right time. Norrej is playing with the children in the square in the middle of the village.” The young man casually changed his way of addressing the wolf girl. She then gave him a hearty smile.

Sooner or later, I'll stuff your head inside my guts.

The young man, under the power of that laugh, revealed a foolish grin, as if he had given up thinking. Then the wolf girl bypassed him and walked nimbly and skillfully into the village.

She encountered many people along the way, but most offered friendly smiles and greetings before shifting their attention away from her to focus on their unfinished tasks. After all, the village was in dire need of repairs, and if these weren't completed before the rainy season, everything would become very troublesome—she even bumped into the acting village chief, the lucky Miss Anri. Aside from the wary reactions of those annoying goblins, everything was fine.

[Damn goblins, I wasn't planning on killing that woman right now!]

Her heart was filled with anger, but it soon dissipated quietly. She had finally spotted her target: the two visitors who had come from afar to visit the village.

A blonde woman, instead of fiddling with her utterly clumsy puppet troupe today, sat on a bench writing something in a notebook.

A woman with purple hair was telling a story to a group of children under the shade of a tree. From the fragments of words carried on the morning breeze, one could roughly guess that it was a boring and outdated hero tale.

[I'll subtly give them a hint later, so they'll leave the village on their own... Although it wouldn't hurt to wait for them to leave naturally, it's better to prevent that little girl, Anri, from keeping them or even recruiting them as villagers—though the possibility is extremely small—from such an eventuality.]