Trinity Angles (Discussion Thread)

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .




Class 2








Even as she Vanished the sick with a wave of her wand (no sense in allowing Takara to be mortified any further or longer than possible), she repressed a frustrated sigh.

Ordinarily, Hermione would be thrilled to be going to school. She’d always excelled at academics, after all, and a classroom setting was second only to a library as her preferred environment. That it was a Japanese school was of lesser concern; she knew the language, spoken and written, and their renowned high standards were merely an intriguing challenge, in her eyes. And that it was a mundane school, set several years ahead of her own timeline, only piqued her interest further; what new knowledge and advances would have been uncovered in the intervening years?

Yes, she had a sort-of reference by means of Galen’s memories, but the man was not exactly technically-minded—nor was he the sort to pay much attention to the world around him at the time those memories was made. She and Takara had broken him of the habit, thankfully . . . To a point, at least.

In any case, all of this would have normally been exciting, even welcome—except that fifteen minutes ago, she’d been asleep, at home . . . And now, she had no idea whether or not she’d survive the day.

It wasn’t being woken from her sleep that concerned her; it had happened before, when Galen or someone else she had a blood-link to had made enough psychic “noise.” It was the fact that she needed her native soil to sleep in (or on, as they’d discovered years ago)—and she was now in another world entirely.

Granted, the school seems to make allowances for Shalltear (Hermione, through Galen’s memories, distinctly recalled seeing her with a wineglass of blood in the cafeteria at one point)—and they outright say the rules are different here—but that’s no guarantee that I’ll be all right . . .!

With an effort, Hermione calmed herself, and thought rationally. If Ilya had been able to bully whoever was actually responsible for everything here with the mere threat of Galen’s retribution, then surely they’d take her needs into account. After all, it made no sense for anyone afraid of a nuclear explosion to push the detonation button themselves—

She frowned. Something seemed off, now that she was reviewing his memories of the first season . . .

Wait—the Re:ZERO cast was the last group to arrive “before,” weren’t they? Why were they waiting in the classroom, this time?

It was tempting to just shrug it off as a ripple caused by their presence; Hermione had enough experience of the differences in “canon” history the trinity’s presence had caused in her own world, after all. But part of her uncertainty came from the fact that her connection to Galen was . . .

It was like seeing him through a paper screen: she was aware of him, certainly, and could, with effort, communicate—but at the same time, the distortions caused to his silhouette made it clear that trying to bypass the screen was a very BAD idea. And like Ilya, Hermione knew enough of why she might feel that way not to try—but it made her quite uncertain, and that had never been a state of mind she was prepared to tolerate for any longer than necessary.

Still, one glance at Galen’s eyes made her certain that trying to tear down the “screen” was a bad idea. They were distant, glassy, resembling those of an anime character when they were under mental influence, or had undergone a complete psychotic break—

The sudden appearance of scarlet eyes in her vision broke Hermione’s train of thought, and her ears registered the words that accompanied them too late.

“Well, now—don’t you look delicious . . . ?”

By the time Hermione realised that Shalltear Bloodfallen had spoken, and was very much in her personal space, the smaller vampire’s tongue was already darting its way into her mouth.

At twenty-six, Hermione was far from the proverbial blushing virgin. While she was admittedly normally limited in her perception of physical sensations, with the aid of a psychic link and the proper stimuli, she could be as hormone-driven as the seventeen-year-old she biologically was, and acted accordingly. Nor could it be said that she was unfamiliar with Sapphic pleasures: that was at least part of the reason that her “mother-in-law” on Takara’s side objected to their association (though admittedly, the far lesser part). Nor, sadly, was she unused to being propositioned by strange vampires; though it had to be said that only one had lived to regret their actions—and that was only because they hadn’t figured out how to kill him and not trigger a vampiric civil war in the process.

The differences between that situation and this one, however, were that Shalltear Bloodfallen was not the sole force of stability among vampires in the world . . .

(Rasping steel and acrid ozone as Melinoë is drawn, lightning crackling along its length—)

. . . And that no force in this world could save her.

(ANNIHILATE.)

All eyes turned to Galen—even Takara, who had been just as intent on murder a heartbeat ago. She couldn’t help it; no one among them could. None of them could move; even those with heartbeats would’ve sworn they felt them freeze in place at that moment. Even Ainz Ooal Gown, who was supernaturally immune to emotional overload, hesitated, and could not quite bring himself to act as Galen stood. As he stared at Shalltear as though it was possible to burn her out of existence with simply that look . . .

But how could anyone say that he could not? How could anyone be blamed for failing to move, to think, when faced with the sheer intensity before them . . .?

How could they ignore it when reality itself TREMBLED with every breath he—

“Meow?”

In a blink, form, colour and light suddenly returned to the world—including on Galen’s face—and all of them let out an exhalation, whether they actually needed to breathe or not. Hermione looked at her much more focussed (at least, in the sense of seeming visibly present) lover, before giving a concerned glance to the other one.

Nonchalantly, a voice called from the open door. “Yo—I brought your therapy cat. Sorry, it took a while to finish the paperwork . . .”

Hermione wasn’t the only one who blinked and looked towards the newcomer, but she would wager that she was one of the few who recognised Aoko Aozaki—even as she wondered just how the Japanese witch (or was it magus, now?) had gotten roped into this . . .

“Ooooh?” Roswaal drawled in that sing-song tone of his. “A ‘therapy cat,’ you say . . .?”

“Yeah,” Aoko replied. “You know—a licensed and trained working animal to help keep certain students calm, focussed, much less likely to literally shred reality into confetti . . .”

That last part was added in an undertone that was nearly below human hearing ranges, which probably meant that only Subaru missed it.

“Hi, precious,” Galen whispered, oblivious—even as the feline he directed it to darted towards him, shifting course only briefly enough to brush against Takara’s shin before leaping headlong into his lap, and accepting one nose-to-tail-tip stroke before settling into it with a familiar possessiveness.

Hermione stared—and out of the corner of her eye, noted Takara (understandably) doing the same.

The reason for the stares was simple: going by Galen’s reactions, and the cat’s behaviour, that was Mirai; even the earlier meow verified that, once she thought back on it—that was Mirai’s voice.

So why, Hermione wondered, was she looking at White Ren . . .?

[Arbitrarity]

After all, it made no sense for anyone afraid of a nuclear explosion to push the detonation button themselves—

Well, the universe was not prepared for thirsty vampires, apparently.

I'd assume that "remote" look that Galen has is what he looks like when he's doing deep pondering, like before Luna booped him in the forehead? So he was probably shocked by the pregnancy announcement still. Well, that's one way to stop him from immediately thinking about it, I guess. I think that's a sufficiently threatening display, even if the physical manifestation of it is still kind of ambiguous. Since it's kind of a joke in here for now though, it doesn't need much detail. It's not that unusual for Ainz's emotion dampening to be forced to repeatedly activate for particularly shocking moments in side stories.

which probably meant that only Subaru missed it.

Yep. That's Subaru. Since the Konosuba crew isn't here yet, anyways. I'm not sure I'd expect any of them other than Kazuma to hear quiet things, and even he'd depend on whether or not it was funny for him to miss it.

Interesting that Mirai is manifesting as White Ren. I suppose they have kind of comparable personalities, so it does make me wonder if that means Mirai was how White Ren manifested in the Potterverse, or if this is some kind of strange reverse-translation happening.

[Kieran]

Well, the universe was not prepared for thirsty vampires, apparently.

Isekai Quartet rules - if I'm going to raise a flag, somebody just has to trigger it.

I'd assume that "remote" look that Galen has is what he looks like when he's doing deep pondering, like before Luna booped him in the forehead?

Not quite - it's his "natural" look as a (Foreigner) Servant. Visually, it's like Solution Epsilon's eyes - or any of the Sakura Five (or certain other Servants) when they go creepy in Fate/Grand Order. It's difficult to describe in text format, I'm afraid; I did my best, but I'm sorry for any confusion.

So he was probably shocked by the pregnancy announcement still. Well, that's one way to stop him from immediately thinking about it, I guess.

Oh, definitely. It doesn't help that Galen has a certain "hot button" reaction when it comes to immortals hitting on Hermione; and the fact that he couldn't destroy that one vampire is extremely frustrating. That Shalltear is also flat-out evil pretty much eliminates any leeway her "cute" appearance might've bought her.

. . . And Aqua hasn't even entered the scene yet.

I think that's a sufficiently threatening display, even if the physical manifestation of it is still kind of ambiguous. Since it's kind of a joke in here for now though, it doesn't need much detail. It's not that unusual for Ainz's emotion dampening to be forced to repeatedly activate for particularly shocking moments in side stories.

No - though the next segment might actually detail his perspective; this seems important enough to switch over, even so early in the story.

Yep. That's Subaru. Since the Konosuba crew isn't here yet, anyways. I'm not sure I'd expect any of them other than Kazuma to hear quiet things, and even he'd depend on whether or not it was funny for him to miss it.

Yup.

Interesting that Mirai is manifesting as White Ren. I suppose they have kind of comparable personalities, so it does make me wonder if that means Mirai was how White Ren manifested in the Potterverse, or if this is some kind of strange reverse-translation happening.

Mirai being the Potterverse's equivalent of White Ren was never my intention; however, once I realised that translating everyone back to Nasuverse norms meant that Aoko had Ren again (as per "Legacies of Fate"), the obvious choice for being her "kitten" would be White Ren . . . Well, her or Calico (based on Crooks' fur colour).

Amusingly, though, it does seem to fit. If Ren had been treated with more affection from the beginning, White Ren might have been as big a cuddle fiend (or not existed at all, but let's not go there); and Mirai is certainly as proud as White's been, at times. More importantly, given the plot of "Legacies of Fate," it's not impossible to say that Aoko (or Touko) might not have made White Ren in one of the endings . . .


. . . Anyways, since I'm basically stuck at home for the next couple of weeks due to work being closed, I have more time to write - so we may see more of this (and other things) relatively quickly.

[Arbitrarity]

Not quite - it's his "natural" look as a (Foreigner) Servant. Visually, it's like Solution Epsilon's eyes - or any of the Sakura Five (or certain other Servants) when they go creepy in Fate/Grand Order. It's difficult to describe in text format, I'm afraid; I did my best, but I'm sorry for any confusion.

Oh, I know the look, I was just wondering if there was anything that brought it on.

Mirai being the Potterverse's equivalent of White Ren was never my intention; however, once I realised that translating everyone back to Nasuverse norms meant that Aoko had Ren again (as per "Legacies of Fate"), the obvious choice for being her "kitten" would be White Ren . . . Well, her or Calico (based on Crooks' fur colour).

Amusingly, though, it does seem to fit. If Ren had been treated with more affection from the beginning, White Ren might have been as big a cuddle fiend (or not existed at all, but let's not go there); and Mirai is certainly as proud as White's been, at times. More importantly, given the plot of "Legacies of Fate," it's not impossible to say that Aoko (or Touko) might not have made White Ren in one of the endings . . .

Oh yeah, just bring the Carnival Phantasm characters in >.> I was mostly thinking about the prideful part. So it's a reverse-translation artifact, which makes sense.

. . . Anyways, since I'm basically stuck at home for the next couple of weeks due to work being closed, I have more time to write - so we may see more of this (and other things) relatively quickly.

Just be sure to not strain yourself too hard. I find the idea percolation process an important part of coding, even if nothing is quite as effective as rolling up my sleeves and seeing what works.

[Kieran]

Oh, I know the look, I was just wondering if there was anything that brought it on.

The Servant state - it was the best compromise I could think of, given that his eyes were naturally blue to begin with.

Oh yeah, just bring the Carnival Phantasm characters in >.>

Well, it does match Isekai Quartet in terms of genre . . . But no. Even if I had picked Calico, it would've been purely cosmetic (it's not like she has much of a demonstrated personality anyways).

I was mostly thinking about the prideful part. So it's a reverse-translation artifact, which makes sense.

I thought so. And now she can try all those human foods they said would make her "sick, or worse" as a kitty-cat!

Just be sure to not strain yourself too hard. I find the idea percolation process an important part of coding, even if nothing is quite as effective as rolling up my sleeves and seeing what works.

True enough - though making sure I can still attend physio is something I should look into. I'm not straining myself at work, but the keyboard is a different matter . . .

[Arbitrarity]

The Servant state - it was the best compromise I could think of, given that his eyes were naturally blue to begin with.

Hermione looked at her much more focussed (at least, in the sense of seeming visibly present) lover, before giving a concerned glance to the other one.

Made it seem like it might have been a passing state, rather than constant. Pretty spooky to have that look all the time, most of the time when I see those eyes, there's about to be blood everywhere.

True enough - though making sure I can still attend physio is something I should look into. I'm not straining myself at work, but the keyboard is a different matter . . .

Yeah, I was pretty sure your job didn't involve much typing, so a big upswing in that seems like it could be troublesome. Hopefully you at least have a good set of exercises and so forth. My mother is a physio, and she always says that most of the improvement of patients comes from them practising outside of sessions, her job is optimally more diagnosis and instruction on what to do. Of course, then she gets people who don't actually follow up doing things she tells them to do outside of sessions >.>

[Kieran]

Made it seem like it might have been a passing state, rather than constant.

So again, my apologies - and they will clear, from time to time; much as his counterparts' fog over, from time to time.

Pretty spooky to have that look all the time, most of the time when I see those eyes, there's about to be blood everywhere.

Yup - to wit, Foreigner, with an addendum that being me is always (some form) of suffering . . . It does beat tentacles, though.

Yeah, I was pretty sure your job didn't involve much typing, so a big upswing in that seems like it could be troublesome.

No, my job is mainly menial; and "repetitive motion strain" was part of the diagnosis . . . But I'm not fool enough notto realise that keyboard work is just as much (or more) a part of it.

Hopefully you at least have a good set of exercises and so forth. My mother is a physio, and she always says that most of the improvement of patients comes from them practising outside of sessions, her job is optimally more diagnosis and instruction on what to do.

I do, which is good, because they have been cancelled.

Of course, then she gets people who don't actually follow up doing things she tells them to do outside of sessions >.>

Yeah . . . *Looks around shiftily* Oh, look - another chapter!










Continuing . . .




Class 2






Mirai had always been a clever cat.

In some ways, it was inevitable—not simply because of her Kneazle blood, but because both Ren and Crookshanks were geniuses by the standards of their breeds, and because magic laughed at the fallacies inherent in the idea of eugenics. However, now she was more; White Ren had been a creation of TATARI remnants based on the model of Ren, equal parts phenomenon and familiar. In many ways, she was as much a concept given physical form as a material creature . . .

And because of her connections to both Takara (nee Aozaki) and Galen Salvatore, she was capable of far greater understanding of her current situation than might otherwise be possible.

White Ren looked over the knowledge that her current existence afforded her of “canon” one—that of a “one-off,” barely acknowledged and lumped in with failures when she was; bound to a hollow replica in an effort to prove her superiority to her originator. By contrast, being Mirai surrendered her rightful name (her mother’s name) to be a pampered, fawned-over housecat . . .

A housecat who was loved—had been loved from the beginning. Someone who was acknowledged (in jest, but also with some level of truth) to be the rightful mistress of her household; who lived a life of being petted, played with, praised, protected and provided for throughout her entire existence. Who had been given the name “future,” because that was what was born from dreams—and was all the more special for it, because it was real . . .

White Ren considered all that, and quietly made the decision to surrender to becoming Mirai—because as simple as such a life was, it was also one which acknowledged both her existence and her superiority; in the end, it was everything she’d always wanted.

. . . Mirai gazed up at her favourite cuddle-toy that was not her witch (magus, now, she supposed), now understanding with greater context and capability all the little jokes and teasing comments made at her expense—and the underlying affection, the genuine adoration, which had infused them.

She’d let them pass, she decided. Because no one aside from Takara had loved her as much as him, and asked for so little in return; some purring and a few licks were all it took to make him her devoted slave. And now, she was capable of so much more as a result . . .

Yes, Mirai thought, relaxing further into the warm depths of her rightful throne, this is exactly where I belong.

Purring in satisfaction, she idly considered where she was, and what she knew of schools and their routines—while suddenly realising that she could now, if she so desired, take on a human form (of the type which her pet loved to dote on, appropriately enough—her cuddle-toys Ai-chan, Sakura-chan, and Miyu-chan were proof enough of that).

I wonder if I can get strawberry shortcake for lunch here . . .?








“. . .WHAT. WAS. THAT?”

While the emotional tones of Cocytus’ voice were sometimes hard to distinguish (understandable, given his nature as a human-sized insectoid) Ainz clearly heard the unease in the question.

Frankly, it was a question Ainz was asking himself, as well. Up until Shalltear’s action, he’d barely glanced at the young man in that seat. The boy had been remarkable only insofar as everyone here had been remarkable: with no idea of where they were or how they’d gotten here from the Great Tomb of Nazarick—and even less idea as to why—it was possible that anyone here was responsible. As such, he was scanning all of his surroundings, trying to note likely culprits, and potential threats . . .

The Overlord was ashamed to admit that the boy had barely even registered. Granted, he’d seemed a lot calmer than most of those here—particularly when he and the Floor Guardians had entered the room—but he’d also seemed to be daydreaming, judging by the faraway look in his eyes. Ainz had ascribed to the possibility that he simply hadn’t noticed them yet.

And then Shalltear had locked onto that other vampire, apparently decided to obey his restriction against picking a fight and flirt with (Ainz presumed) a potential rival, instead—and in an almost literal fashion, all Hell had nearly broken loose.

That holy blade had been bad all on its own. The fact that its enchantments’ passive effects had managed to penetrate his protections to the point that he’d noticed, to say nothing of the Guardians’ singed looks, meant that it was at least equivalent to a Divine-class item in YGGDRASIL terms. (Aura and Mare, being the only two without some measure of demon or undead in their racial makeup, were unharmed beyond the typical reaction of a dark elf’s being exposed to bright light). Ainz had readied himself to fight it, and then—

His emotional suppression factor had kicked in almost immediately, and activated nearly constantly; it had happened before, but such circumstances were never good—still, it had allowed him to observe, and think . . . And he was still unsure of exactly what he had seen.

The overall effect, the palpable ripples in their surroundings, the groaning in the air, those strange eyes glowing with the baleful, cold light of distant stars WITHIN THE VOID—

. . .

What had Ainz been thinking about, again?

. . . Ah, yes—the overall effect that had been produced reminded him of a cut-scene: a scripted event meant to showcase the appearance of a new enemy type, particularly a raid boss. It was meant to evoke a sense of fear and excitement among players, and not something that could typically be interfered with unless it was also a “Quick Time Event.” Of course, such events usually also showcased great and terrible devastation, as a show of power—which in this case, would’ve undoubtedly meant wiping Shalltear from the world. . . . And while he couldn’t accurately judge anything’s power level based on so little information, on an intellectual level Ainz could only compare the visceral reaction he’d felt, before its suppression, as comparable to the one and only time the guild of Ainz Ooal Gown had taken on a World Enemy in YGGDRASIL.

A battle, he recalled grimly, that had nearly exterminated them all.

But then again, he mused, even if it is a World Enemy, or equivalent, whoever heard of such a thing being stopped by a cat . . .?

“Undoubtedly, the reason Lord Ainz ordered us to observe, rather than initiate violence,” Demiurge answered as he fiddled with the position of his glasses, drawing Ainz’ attention back to the here and now—and while his statement was bland, almost disinterested, Demiurge’s own voice grimmer than normal. “Clearly, he saw through that creature’s efforts to conceal its true power, and sought to warn us without alerting it to the fact that he had penetrated the ruse.”

Despite being seated at a desk, Demiurge made his best attempt at an apologetic bow. “I can only offer my sincere regrets, my Lord, at failing to keep pace with your insightful mind.”

That wasn’t at all the reason behind the order! Ainz thought despairingly, as he often did when dealing with Demiurge.

It wasn’t that the Floor Guardian was incompetent—on the contrary, Ainz regarded him was one of the most intelligent entities he knew—it was that Demiurge would frequently come up with rationales to justify Ainz’ wishes or decisions that praised Ainz’ strategic brilliance, or relied upon his nature as a “Supreme Being,” which had no basis in reality, so far as Ainz was concerned.

Aloud, however, he said, “Think nothing of it, Demiurge—the fault was mine, in failing to be sufficiently clear.”

At least this gives me an excuse to be totally pacifistic and not seem weak . . .

“To clarify, then: no hostile actions, or even actions which might be implied to be hostile, are to be taken against anyone here, until we have further intelligence on them, and precisely what is going on here,” Ainz said bluntly.

And that, he thought, should deal with any potentially violent issues amongst the Guardians vis-a-vis the humans here . . .

Then, after a moment of consideration, he added, “Furthermore, that cat . . . Consider it the most sacrosanct entity here. I sensed power on the order of a World Enemy just now, and if it truly has the ability to seal such a creature, then it is in all our interests to do everything in our power to ensure that it can continue to do so.”

For all that the Floor Guardians regarded him as a “Supreme Being,” their innate knowledge of YGGDRASIL as NPCs would doubtless allow them the understanding of what a “World Enemy” was . .

“Yes, My Lord,” they echoed in unison. Ainz sighed in relief; if nothing else, their innate loyalty ensured obedience to the order, even if they didn’t like it—

Which, of course, was the cue for the classroom door to open for the final time, and all Hell to break loose again—or perhaps that ought to be, “all Heaven . . .?”

[Arbitrarity]

Oh no, Mirai is ALSO taking advantage of the Sainthood? Scary. I suppose she might have some pointers to give Filo whenever she arrives.

Cocytus's voice is a joy to imagine. I can hear his monotone perfectly. Demiurge's depiction is also perfect. I'm still fairly sure he's humouring Ainz in some way.

Interesting, for that to be the final time the door opens, we either are skipping one of Konosuba/Youjo Senki, or they're both arriving at once? Since Yunyun is here, as is the Adventurer's guild lady, I would expect Konosuba to be here (also, you love it). I can see trading Tanya out to keep the 4 in Quartet, even if the original series abandoned that after season 1. Intriguing.

[Kieran]

Oh no, Mirai is ALSO taking advantage of the Sainthood? Scary.

. . . It actually took me a moment to realise what you were referring to, here - kind of sad, considering I'm the one who keeps running with that joke.

In any case, what I know of White Ren paints her as someone with a superiority complex, who'd likely take very well to hedonism (in other words, she's a cat ); with an entire lifetime's worth of memories as a pampered pet (far less than Ren's in length, but a lot more vivid in scope), I could see her deciding, "Why not . . . ?"

I suppose she might have some pointers to give Filo whenever she arrives.

On the other hand, Filo is competition - who is also food, being a giant bird . . . But that's next season's problem.

Cocytus's voice is a joy to imagine. I can hear his monotone perfectly.

It is quite distinctive. The only trick is getting the word choice down; he's fairly verbose for someone with that kind of voice.

Demiurge's depiction is also perfect.

Thank you - because again, he's tricky. In his case, balancing servility and a certain sly knowing.

I'm still fairly sure he's humouring Ainz in some way.

I suspect that at times, myself.

Interesting, for that to be the final time the door opens, we either are skipping one of Konosuba/Youjo Senki, or they're both arriving at once?

Well, since the Overlord crew arrived alone . . .

Since Yunyun is here, as is the Adventurer's guild lady, I would expect Konosuba to be here (also, you love it).

YES. I am so looking forward to the home video release (finally!)

I can see trading Tanya out to keep the 4 in Quartet, even if the original series abandoned that after season 1. Intriguing.

But I could theoretically have so much fun with Tanya . . . And they kind of did, kind of didn't: by shuffling the newcomers off to Class 1, it's still technically correct . . .

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .








Natsuki Subaru had been through a lot, recently. Among other things, he’d been transported against his will to another world without warning (even before this one), been brutally murdered, and found himself somehow in possession of the skill “Return by Death” as a result—and that was just within the first twelve hours. Since then, he’d fought killers, monsters, maids, spirits, knights and bigger monsters . . .

And he’d died. He’d died a lot—or more accurately, he’d been killed a lot.

In retrospect, Subaru felt like an idiot for not figuring out “Return by Death’s” existence sooner; but it wasn’t like any of this had come with an instruction manual, and he was still running into oddities of the world around him, or his ability, with alarming regularity. He knew darned well that he’d lucked into the situation he had, though; without the support of his friends, he’d have died a lot more times (even after subtracting the number of times they’d killed him).

Still, as weird as shifting back to a “normal” world was (since it had brought Emilia, the twins and Beatrice, and installed Roswaal as a teacher, Subaru wasn’t prepared to say he was home yet, though it certainly looked that way), he welcomed the more relaxed change of pace. The presence of the two foreign students was a bit odd (and why did the paler one seem familiar?), but given that he was presently sitting in a row with two half-demons, a half-elf, and two spirits (counting Puck), Subaru didn’t really feel that he could judge. Not that he really would, anyway—

Or so he’d thought, until the monsters walked in.

It was like a parade of horrors, each worse than the last: the pointy-eared glasses guy with the tail, the huge-ass bug with freezing vapours wafting off him, and the giant freaking skeleton whose eye sockets had a burning crimson light in them that proclaimed a literally searing hatred of all that lived . . . With one admittedly gorgeous horned lady on one arm, and a cute-looking Gothic Lolita-type on the other, both of which had faces whose expressions alternated between fawning adoration over the skeleton, and a sneering contempt for humanity.

(Once again, Subaru thanked his lucky stars for running into Emilia first—if she’d had that kind of outlook, he might have given up entirely, that first day.)

After staring in a kind of disbelieving terror for a moment, Subaru whirled forward, intent on demanding just how Roswaal thought “students” like this were part of a “normal school life”—

When suddenly it felt like the entire world shuddered.

Subaru was no stranger to odd effects like that—magical pressures and the like were . . .

Well, not “old hat,” but something he was (or was gradually becoming) accustomed to. “Return by Death” had something similar—he’d felt the cold, unseen hands reaching out to pull him back to his “save point,” or threatening to crush his heart if he talked about it to anyone, often enough; indeed, he felt that same phantom grip now. But it wasn’t pulling at him, like he’d died, nor squeezing him, in warning; it simply held, like a sensation of icy arms encircling him . . .

And for a brief, terrifying instant, Subaru had the inexplicable certainty that whatever mysterious, dangerous power was behind “Return by Death,” it was afraid for him—

Then a little kitty came in, and everything was fine again—somehow.

It made no sense at all, and Subaru was about to protest when Emilia whispered, “Puck—what was that . . .?”

“Lia,” the monster spirit in the form of a cat replied, “if it ever happens again, run.”

Subaru, who had very clear memories of being beheaded by Puck, shortly after the spirit had sneered about the “Witch of Envy” everyone was so terrified of (and which Puck had very obviously survived), shivered. If Puck was advising that, and in a tone that implied that he’d buy Emilia as much time as possible, but expected that it would be a suicidal effort on his part . . .

What the hell are we dealing wi—

“Are you all right, Subaru?”

Rem’s half-whispered question, and the worried look in her big blue eyes, startled him out of his thoughts.

“Oh,” he half-shouted as he jumped in his seat, before repeating, “Oh . . .Oh, yeah, Rem—I’m fine. That was a little weird, but not enough to get me down.”

He was lying, of course—and deep down, he knew it was as much to show off to the pretty girl asking after him as it was to wipe the concerned expression off her face. Emilia might be the angel of his heart, after all, but he wasn’t blind to the appeal of Rem’s cuteness (or her rack).

The relieved smile she favoured him with only further cemented her adorableness. “I’m so glad.”

He smiled back, while making plans. The weirdo was too terrifying to go near—but on the plus side, he seemed to terrify the giant skeleton and his monsters too, judging by their reactions. Maybe the Japanese girl would be safe to approach, just to find out what their deal was . . .?

Well, as long as she didn’t draw that sword again, anyway.








Tanya von Degurechaff abruptly found herself feeling dizzy, and staggering in place. And it was as much from the sensation of going from “high-speed flight” thousands of metres in the air (with all the chill and wind resistance that implied) to “total stop on the ground,” as it was from the wavering feeling caused by that button push.

What the hell did that maniac build into that computation orb . . . ?!

A firm pair of hands on her shoulders brought Tanya’s movement to a complete halt—along with her thought processes; she’d left Visha and the rest of the 203rd a long distance away from the laboratory and its testing grounds, after all. And yet, despite the dozens if not hundreds of miles involved, here they were.

Even at the height of his insanity, not even Schugel could have disregarded reality to the degree needed to have pulled off something like that—was this, then, more meddling by Being X?!

“Aqua, look at . . . some kind of war world—!”

As Tanya looked around, realising that she was standing in a field of green grass, which was planted next to a very modern-looking (by twenty-first century standards) brick building, she considered that question answered. The bastard was definitely behind this; what new torment had he devis—?

“—be fine; I am a godd—”

Tanya’s head whipped around so quickly that she would be astonished, in retrospect, that she hadn’t snapped her neck. As the time, however, she was entirely focussed on that hated word: Being X’s self-proclaimed title and alleged basis of superiority.

“What,” she ground out, staring at the speaker of nonsense. “Did. You. Say . . .?”

“STUDENTS!” roared an authoritative voice at that moment. It was a voice that, even in the depths of her focus on the weirdo, Tanya instinctively turned to; her military training coming to the fore even unconsciously.

The General had spoken, after all—and he continued to do so, with an admonishment that made little sense, but that she found she had little choice but to obey, lacking a context that would allow her to do otherwise.

“Class,” the uniformed man informed them, in a tone anyone who’d ever been late to something would recognise from their superior, “is IN SESSION!”








Tanya considered things as she walked along the halls—which corresponded remarkably to a Japanese high school’s in appearance, on inspection.

What few of the 203rd that had apparently been transported with her (to wit, her command cadre) were as clueless as she was regarding present circumstances— General Rudersdorf, evidently, was not, but seemed disinclined to explain them. And as his subordinates, she could hardly demand such (much as she might want to), so there was nothing for it but to go along until more information revealed itself. Rudersdorf might’ve introduced himself as “the principal here,” but he was still a general in the Imperial Army, and they were its soldiers; and without clear reason (and sometimes, even then), disobedience was punishable by firing squad . . .

Being X was behind this, Tanya was certain—but how and why eluded her . . .

As to their unexpected company, she was unsure of what to make of them. Dismissing them as cosplayers was easy, between their garb and the two Japanese teens in their party, but the presence of the two others made that less likely; she’d never heard of anyone dedicated enough to the activity to hire foreign nationals to play the part. Likewise, their gear was far too well-made for simple costume props, particularly the blonde knight’s—it was possible, Tanya supposed, that she had some antique heirloom armour restored for the role, but that would be such an egregious waste of money . . .

Then again, the idle rich were infamous for their bizarre hobbies; it was entirely possible for some vapid blonde heiress to want to go about dressed like that simply for the sheer spectacle of it—Tanya frowned as the blonde in question suddenly shivered, for some reason.

Further musings were interrupted as they finally entered “their classroom.” Frankly, it was about as bizarre as Tanya had expected, given the circumstances—there was a clown at the teacher’s desk, and several other cosplayers seated as students, including a somehow-functional skeleton suit that had to be nearly as broad as she was tall . . .

“Eek! Undead!” shrieked the blue-haired twit with the impractically-skimpy outfit. She thrust forth a hand. “TURN UNDEAD!”

Several things happened very quickly at once, after that.

First, one of the students in the corner reached out to poke a girl next to him, just before the room lit up from underneath. The skeleton and another girl (about Tanya’s physical age, very pale) began yelling in apparent pain—

And the Japanese boy with the caster drove his fist into the back of her skull. “Will you cut that out? Things are already weird enough—we’ve got no idea where we are or what’s going on, and you want to go around making enemies and trouble already?!”

A very sensible attitude, Tanya thought approvingly. While his appearance was still disconcerting, his rational approach made it clear that this was someone she could work with.

“B-But Kazuma,” the girl blubbered, tears already beginning. “It’s a filthy undead! It’s my sacred duty as a goddess to—”

“Perform bucket duuuu-ty,” the clown said in a singsong voice. “After all, violence in school is strictly forbid-den . . .”

“Um, in that case, Mister Roswaal,” said another Japanese boy in the back row—the only island of normality in it, in fact, his choice of a tracksuit as “acceptable attire” notwithstanding—“shouldn’t he be on bucket duty, too?”

Tanya followed the boy’s finger and found her view of the “he” in question blocked by a mane of bushy chestnut hair, as the girl at the desk next to him had gotten out of her seat and was presently leaning over him in a rather scandalous embrace. What Tanya could see hinted at a long leather coat and jeans, as well as an albino cat with an orange bib (a service animal harness?) sitting in his lap.

The clown’s tone turned somewhat standoffish. “Well, no actual viiiiolence took place, diiiid it? So he’s fine—but you, young miss, should refrain from such puuuublic displays . . .”

The girl jolted to attention, her head whipping around to reveal a cherry-red, utterly mortified expression.

“Holy crap!” the Japanese boy to Tanya’s side exclaimed suddenly. “HERMIONE FREAKING GRANGER?!”

[Arbitrarity]

Ooooh nice to see some other perspectives. Subaru definitely has some experience with sneering contempt for humanity already. On-point indirect characterization of Return By Death's creator (which fits, given what I remember about them). Puck is always alarmingly more powerful than he seems.

I guess Konosuba squad and Tanya didn't see Galen's outburst. At least Mirai kept him from exploding on Aqua as well (which would be pretty justified). Good to know Hermione can't be randomly disintegrated by Turn Undead, though since even Death Knight survives it, I guess it's kind of nerfed in terms of lethality here anyways. Of course our other teenage isekai protagonists have some idea what's going on. Given Ainz's original world, it's not too surprising he doesn't recognize anyone. Tanya is likely to eat her words about Kazuma's rationality soon enough, given how he acts in the Disciplinary committee in canon, though I suspect she'll get along decently with Galen/Hermione/Takara. Of the Seven, I suspect she'd have the most trouble with Luna, which... is not unusual.

[Kieran]

Ooooh nice to see some other perspectives.

Sorry - I do mean to get everybody, it's just that there's a lot of "everybody" to get to . . .

Subaru definitely has some experience with sneering contempt for humanity already.

*Hands over "Understatement of the Year" Award*

On-point indirect characterization of Return By Death's creator (which fits, given what I remember about them).

Thank you.

Puck is always alarmingly more powerful than he seems.

*Hands over "Understatement of the Decade" Award*

I guess Konosuba squad and Tanya didn't see Galen's outburst.

By virtue of being on the athletics field, no.

At least Mirai kept him from exploding on Aqua as well (which would be pretty justified).

Well, if I did it now, how could I make her soil her non-existent underwear later, when she realises what he is?

Good to know Hermione can't be randomly disintegrated by Turn Undead, though since even Death Knight survives it, I guess it's kind of nerfed in terms of lethality here anyways.

Well, she'd have to be undead for it to work, right . . .?

Of course our other teenage isekai protagonists have some idea what's going on.

Yes - though I did have to do at least some research to try and figure out how popular the series actually is in Japan . . .

Given Ainz's original world, it's not too surprising he doesn't recognize anyone.

No, not really.

Tanya is likely to eat her words about Kazuma's rationality soon enough, given how he acts in the Disciplinary committee in canon,

Yup.

Though to be fair to Kazuma, it's not that he isn't rational (mostly), or capable of putting in the work - it's finding the proper motivation to get him to do it. I mean, he stopped adventuring once he became rich enough not to need to, but if he'd had a . . . Let's say "less specialised" party to work with - such that he could actually enjoy adventures? It's likely he'd have gotten a lot more done.

though I suspect she'll get along decently with Galen/Hermione/Takara.

Hermione and Takara, anyway. I presume that at some point, Tanya will end up accusing Galen of being Being X.

(Mostly, because I really want to paraphrase this line.)

Of the Seven, I suspect she'd have the most trouble with Luna, which... is not unusual.

No, it isn't - which is sad, considering how generally harmless (and friendly) she is.

[Kieran]

So, I ran across this video online, and it got me wondering - which strain of "isekaitis" does Galen have, exactly . . . ? Or Takara, for that matter, since she does qualify.

[Arbitrarity]

C is alarmingly applicable. Technically they're not alone, but close enough. Fighting the Demon King is serious business. And I don't think they get quite enough subversion to be a real deconstruction, though Galen gets a bit close.

[Kieran]

I thought so, but I wasn't certain how close I might be to "D" . . . Though the recent Isekai Quartet snippets tend to start leaning that way, I think.

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .







Class 3








“What was THAT?!” Yunyun exclaimed, staring at the chalkboard that had, a moment ago, been attempting to crumple itself up like a used tissue.

“Galen,” Shirou answered flatly—and simultaneously with the other five people in the room, all using more or less the same tone, as it turned out, causing the crimson-eyed girl to look at them all with a near-panicked expression.

He understood why the others would probably make that assumption. Experience, after all, said that anything weird usually involved Galen, one way or another; the fact that his entrance into this world involved similar effects just made it easier to make the connection. Unlike the others, however, he had the senses of a Servant, so it wasn’t so much a natural conclusion in his case as much as it was blatantly obvious.

“Do you suppose they threatened Takara and Hermione, or hit on them?” Neville asked Ginny casually. “This is a school, so, teenagers . . .”

“Whichever it was,” his wife answered, “it wasn’t enough provocation for him to be actually violent, either way—even aside from the fact that the building’s still standing, there wasn’t nearly enough screaming.”

And he silently chided himself for underestimating his friends—he knew better. Ginny was an Auror; investigating and drawing conclusions was what she did for a living, even if she did as much desk work as field work, these days. And Neville might teach Herbology, but he still had to deal with students; and with their own days at Hogwarts as an example, he had motivation to ferret out secrets and truths from them quickly—and as for Luna . . .

A glance towards the blonde witch showed her looking back at him as though she’d expected it, a tiny smile briefly on her face to match the flash of amusement in her eyes, before she turned back to the dark-haired witch (?) beside her.

If Yunyun got any paler, Shirou observed, there wasn’t going to be any blood left in her body . . . And Ciel didn’t look much better, he thought critically.

Good.

He understood her reasons, and even sympathised (even leaving aside the dangers of Rowlingverse vampires, which were not inconsiderable, Ilya had told him enough about Ciel’s original history for that much)—nobody deserved what she’d gone through. At the same time, however, he’d had no patience for the arguments between her and her daughter, and the anguish they’d caused his friends.

You made yourself someone he had to protect Takara from—and now it’s so much worse, Shirou thought, glaring at her. Telepathy might not actually be possible, but he knew enough about body language by now to get his point across.

Because even if Hermione was a Dead Apostle now, which is more dangerous by orders of magnitude, what Galen is now could, if Ilya’s not exaggerating, unmake any of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors . . . Granted, he’d do that by ripping a gaping hole in reality where they once stood that spans the length and breadth of their existence, but he could do it.

It grated on Shirou, a little, but his nature as a Counter Guardian was reacting to the Foreigner-class . . . Demi-Servant? Pseudo-Servant? It was hard to say. Regardless of the exact classification, though, Shirou had an instinctive certainty that what his friend was now was both dangerous and wrong. Not a monster, in the sense of a psychopath or Dead Apostle, but something that did not belong here on a literally fundamental level. Since he wasn’t here as a Counter Guardian, he could ignore it; it did make him wonder how the Sixth Holy Grail War might’ve turned out if Galen had shown up in that Class, though.

I’d certainly have reprioritised my targets . . .

“—a very sweet man,” Luna’s cheerful voice drew Shirou out of his thoughts. “He’s just a violent maniac.”

As Yunyun let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a shriek at that pronouncement, Shirou turned to stare at the blonde; he wasn’t the only one.

“Luna,” Ginny said sharply, sounding disappointed.

The smaller witch blinked, visibly puzzled for a moment—before her eyes widened, and she quickly added, “Oh! ‘To anyone who threatens his friends,’ I should have said.” Her face the very picture of contrition, she murmured sincerely, “I’m terribly sorry about that.”

Ginny shook her head, and Yunyun’s eyes were drawn to her hair; Shirou wondered if it was the colour or the condition of it that fascinated her.

“Luna means well,” she said to Yunyun delicately, “but she’s often in the wild, photographing animals, and away from people in general. As a result, the social graces occasionally escape her—you learn to make allowances.”

“Pot and kettle, there, Gin,” Neville chuckled—and then froze, as he realised what he’d said.

“Quiet, you!” Ginny snapped back at her husband in a mock-growling tone, before turning back to Yunyun. “Honestly, don’t worry too much about it; you’re unlikely to come to harm from Galen, and he is mostly friendly—or at least content to live and let live, in most cases.

“And based on past behaviour? He’s honestly more likely to adore you, than anything.”

Shirou shook his head, but didn’t disagree, instead adding only, “In which case, anything or anyone that gives you trouble will regret it—immediately, very briefly, and with extreme prejudice.”








Class 2








Without warning, Megumin shuddered, an icy chill abruptly shooting up her spine—but she attributed that to the sudden flurry of whispering in the room around them.

It seemed, if she was reading expressions correctly, that Kazuma was not the only one to recognise this strange girl he’d flipped out over. The boy sitting between two girls (one akin to a short-haired Aqua, but with Wiz’s softer features and . . . Physique; the other with long hair the colour of Darkness’ thief friend, and a cat of her own—a rival?!), seemed to, as well. As such, she focussed the bulk of her attention on their secretively-whispered conversation, as Kazuma was presently too agitated to provide coherent details.

“You know her, Subaru-kun?”

“Yeah,” the boy replied. “She’s kind of famous back where I come from; they call her ‘the brightest witch of her age,’ or something like that.”

“Witch . . . ?!”

Her unrivaled focus allowed Megumin to hear that last—which was nearly soundless, even amongst the whispers—and her sheer brilliance told her that the hissing nature of it was not a good thing. Whoever the blue-haired girl was, she did not like witches—and neither of her companions had heard her, going by their non-reactions.

(Given her own typical choices in attire, and certain stereotypes associated with them, Megumin made a note to avoid that girl; or at least keep several people between them at all times—or Darkness, at minimum.)

The Crimson Mage and unrivalled Mistress of Explosions then turned her attention to this so-called “brightest witch”—potentially a worthy rival.

(In Class 3, Yunyun sagged depressively for no apparent reason.)

She was obviously older—maybe Kazuma’s age? Not nearly as bad in the bust department as Yunyun, probably (the fuzzy pink sweater made it hard to tell), but her legs and rear, judging by the way those strange trousers hugged them, were nothing to scoff at, annoyingly. Her face was okay, Megumin supposed, with decent hair and eyes if you liked brown as a colour; not nearly as eye-catching as the fine black hair on her head, or her crimson orbs.

So, looks, mediocre; sense of style, nearly as bad as Kazuma’s. If she’s so powerful and clever a witch, surely she could do something to look the part—Yunyun manages to do better, and she’s so awkward it’s painful to watch her try . . .

(Abruptly, Yunyun felt inexplicably happy . . .?)

And she’s remarkably shameless for someone so plain—whatever could drive her to do that with a boy in public . . .?








Takara was watching the group at the front—blue-haired maniacs spouting about “filthy undead” always had her attention—when Galen’s movements caught her eye. Much to her surprise, he didn’t reach for a weapon of any kind; he simply pulled his coat over the cat in his lap, and reached out to poke Hermione with a quiet, but oddly resolute “Nope.”

Takara saw Hermione stiffen at the unexpected contact, and thought she saw something in her posture change, but the sight was wiped out by the admittedly blinding power of the spell that followed before she could confirm it. As the light stabbed needles into her eyes, Takara heard the screams, and her heart stopped in panic—

. . . And it wasn’t until after she could see again that the Japanese woman in a schoolgirl’s body realised Hermione’s hadn’t been among them.

Takara stared, seeing Hermione’s human appearance, unblemished (unlike both the smoking skeleton, and the child vampire who looked nearly completely dead) but, more than that . . .

Hermione had always been good at “disguising” herself as human; more than any other vampire they’d encountered. Part of that was that she, as Takara herself had discovered, hadn’t actually died; part of it was that she was new, and hadn’t lost all the habits and little mannerisms that made people think “human” when they met her. Even Hermione could make slipups, though. For example, she sometimes forgot to breathe more deeply after “exerting” herself (and didn’t sweat much in any case), or to blink quite as often as she really should—sometimes, it was as simple as not showing discomfort in an uncomfortable physical position. And a lot of the more subtle micro-expressions and involuntary muscle movements just weren’t there, since the parts and processes that produced them either didn’t work or just didn’t exist, period.

By and large, though, her ability to mimic a living, breathing human being, combined with her general resistance to most traditional vampiric flaws (the sun being the prime example), typically made her hard to see as “undead.” Unless you either knew Hermione very well, in both her pre- and vampiric states, had a great deal of medical training, or something of a similar nature, anyways.

Takara did. In fact, she would without hesitation name herself as the world’s foremost (admittedly unrecognised) expert on vampiric physiology, and Hermione’s in particular—and what she was seeing now went far beyond any effort that had ever been made in vampiric camouflage. Her blood was flowing along the path of her veins; Takara could see her pulse beating in proper time, Hermione’s eyes (wide as they were right now, it was easy to see) had lost the red tinge that had been mixed with their dark amber colour—and a quick check with her Mystic Eyes proved that the black had faded from her naturally-vermillion lines.


Hermione was human again—really, fully human—and for a moment, Takara was paralysed by shock . . . And when her brain restarted again, she was largely ecstatic; a small part of her, however, couldn’t help but think, Do you seriously mean to tell me that I spent almost ten years trying to find a cure, and he could have done it at any TIME?!

“No, not at any time—only when it was funny.”

Takara whirled on the unfamiliar speaker, even as she recognised the line (Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was one of the few mundane movies they’d all liked, to one degree or another), and beheld—

A little girl in white, with silver hair, scarlet eyes, pointed ears (the triangular points of a cat, rather than the tapering ones of an elf, though they were positioned as human ears were, and lacked fur), and an orange ribbon tied in a bow at her throat.

“It’s not my colour,” the girl admitted, fingering the bow. “But, if it gets me in here for petting time, rather than waiting, I can live with it.”

“. . . Mirai?” Takara whispered, shifting a glance over towards—no, the cat was still in Galen’s lap, so what . . .?

“I would have been, I think,” she answered. “And I’ve decided that I’d rather be, in any case—as to how or what, I have a certain influence over dreams and minds, as well as a connection to you specifically, so we can talk like this—and I can talk, unlike my ‘mother’—without drawing attention.”

You’re a projection? Takara thought the words, rather than spoke them aloud, like she would have if Hermione had a blood link between them.

“Here and now, yes,” she answered. “Though I certainly can appear like this physically, if I want to—but I’d rather curl up in my favourite spot and get petted, rather than be forced to sit at a desk and do homework.”

Takara snorted. Yeah, you’re Mirai, all right.

The girl stuck out her tongue and smiled impishly. “You taught me that happiness is a warm lap, a soft voice, and gentle hands—or some combination of those words . . . But we’re getting off-topic.

“Like this, he could cure her easily; but only like this, when reality is about as malleable as a dream—and just about as tangible. So don’t get too jealous, hm? After all, this solves a major problem, doesn’t it? Your mother won’t be nearly as angry about things; between that and the kitt—er, baby . . .”

That depends on whether this holds, when all of this is over—and if it does, that will cause all-new problems.

“And I thought he was the worrywart,” Mirai chided. “Just enjoy the now, would you . . .?” She paused. “No, wait—there is one thing you might want to worry about.”

Takara’s eyebrows rose. And what’s that?

A tiny, evil grin adorned the little girl’s face as she said bluntly, “Well, since Hermione has actual hormones again, she’ll enjoy it more—but she can be tired out now, too. Will the two of you be enough to handle his stamina . . .?”

And the snicker as she disappeared told Takara that she’d said it just to see that specific look as a result, damn it.

[Arbitrarity]

Oooh, this one is very interesting.

Neville is probably sleeping on the couch.
Very cute way to describe Rem and Emilia from Megumin's perspective, though those colors seem somewhat approximate. I'm not really sure if I'd expect Rem or Emilia to be more alarmed by the word "witch", because while I remember a certain scene where Rem is very concerned about witch influence, I'd expect Emilia to be equally wary, given her experiences. On my initial read, I thought that was Emilia speaking.
Megumin's strategy for assessing rivalry is... interesting. I didn't know those were her criteria of choice. It definitely feels in-character for some reason, though.

If anything, that's actually a more impressive use of Galen's powers than crumpling up the chalkboard and spooking everyone. Really love the detailed description and background context from Takara. Mirai projections are cute, and I really like that she's being expanded as a character, as an extension of Feline Superiority! I'm having a flashback to Hermione's

“It’s nothing you should think about until you’re older,” Hermione scolded her. “Now, if you want Takara to feed or cuddle you before she leaves, you’d best catch up to her - and not a word to her about this, understand? Not one!”

Mirai was corrupted in her kittenhood.

[Kieran]

Oooh, this one is very interesting.

Thank you.

For something where half of it was stewing in my head for three weeks, and the other half was basically written on the spot, I think it turned out pretty well.

Neville is probably sleeping on the couch.

Yup.

Very cute way to describe Rem and Emilia from Megumin's perspective, though those colors seem somewhat approximate.

They are at the back of the room, and Megumin's not exactly the tallest person in class. I'm kind of surprised she can get that much detail; particularly since I think Ainz and Cocytus should be at least partially blocking her line of sight.

(Though honestly, I'd have to re-check the seating arrangements before I swear to that.)

I'm not really sure if I'd expect Rem or Emilia to be more alarmed by the word "witch", because while I remember a certain scene where Rem is very concerned about witch influence, I'd expect Emilia to be equally wary, given her experiences. On my initial read, I thought that was Emilia speaking.

Part of that is because Emilia's attention is on Subaru, and with her head turned, her hair hides her face; by contrast, Rem's is long enough to hide her eyes, but her expression is still at least partly visible.

. . . The other part, of course, is that with Aqua having gone off in class, there's no reason for anyone to be ambushed by a murder attempt after school - and Rem has a history of doing that, if you hit certain triggers, no?

Megumin's strategy for assessing rivalry is... interesting. I didn't know those were her criteria of choice. It definitely feels in-character for some reason, though.

*Chuckles* Do recall that at least half the reason she wanted to learn "Explosion" was because she associated it with having a large bust . . .

But yes, to a Crimson Mage (yes, I know that "Demon" is often used as the title, but I really don't think a world run by goddesses as anti-demon as Aqua and Eris would tolerate that), style and presentation are important. We know that Hermione is stunning in the right outfit, of course (The Dress being the really obvious one), but she's not a natural fashion plate - and she was at home when this all went off, rather than at King's Cross. If she'd been in robes, Megumin might think better of her; certainly, her wand versus Megumin's staff isn't going to win her any points.

. . . At least until Hermione strips her of her staff, sets her spinning in mid-air, and turns her hat into a straitjacket with a few casual flicks of said wand, anyway.

If anything, that's actually a more impressive use of Galen's powers than crumpling up the chalkboard and spooking everyone.

Oh, yes. And while I initially thought of Shalltear's (horrified) reaction to it, it only recently occurred to me how Ainz is liable to take it . . .

Really love the detailed description and background context from Takara.

Thank you.

Mirai projections are cute, and I really like that she's being expanded as a character, as an extension of Feline Superiority!

Well, her other component is White Ren, who is no slouch in the self-esteem department.

I'm having a flashback to Hermione's

. . .

Mirai was corrupted in her kittenhood.

. . . I remember that line, but not from where; it's a very odd sensation.

[Arbitrarity]

. . . The other part, of course, is that with Aqua having gone off in class, there's no reason for anyone to be ambushed by a murder attempt after school - and Rem has a history of doing that, if you hit certain triggers, no?

Yes, that is what I was recalling as "a certain scene"

*Chuckles* Do recall that at least half the reason she wanted to learn "Explosion" was because she associated it with having a large bust . . .

But yes, to a Crimson Mage (yes, I know that "Demon" is often used as the title, but I really don't think a world run by goddesses as anti-demon as Aqua and Eris would tolerate that), style and presentation are important. We know that Hermione is stunning in the right outfit, of course (The Dress being the really obvious one), but she's not a natural fashion plate - and she was at home when this all went off, rather than at King's Cross. If she'd been in robes, Megumin might think better of her; certainly, her wand versus Megumin's staff isn't going to win her any points.

. . . At least until Hermione strips her of her staff, sets her spinning in mid-air, and turns her hat into a straitjacket with a few casual flicks of said wand, anyway.

Yeaah, Crimson Demons do seem to take presentation seriously. That does explain why it felt in-character. Their greetings are kind of a reflection of their entire culture.

. . . I remember that line, but not from where; it's a very odd sensation.

Follow the quote link, I specifically sent it to the right post. It's near the end of the second block in that chapter. I had to make liberal use of a "search all text" function in the ebook to find the exact location.

[Kieran]

Yes, that is what I was recalling as "a certain scene"

Amusingly, it also would fall into the trinity/Seven's pattern of, "Attempt to derail an event, and watch it play out (albeit slightly differently) anyway . . .

Yeaah, Crimson Demons do seem to take presentation seriously. That does explain why it felt in-character. Their greetings are kind of a reflection of their entire culture.

I'm still waiting for the Isekai Quartet Megumin to discover anime and the tokusatsu genre; since they're specifically in a Japanese-style high school, something must be available.

Follow the quote link, I specifically sent it to the right post. It's near the end of the second block in that chapter. I had to make liberal use of a "search all text" function in the ebook to find the exact location.

Indeed you did - thank you.


. . . And since I've been considering it, I'm kind of torn on the idea of Albedo's reaction to a human Ainz. On the one hand, it's reducing a Supreme Being to a lowly insect; on the other hand, it renders him capable of doing things with (and to) her that a skeletal undead simply can't . . .