Overlord: Crimson Sovereign

The Grand Hall of the E-Rantel Adventurer's Guild was packed to the rafters.

Veterans leaned forward. Rookies held their breath. Even off-duty guards loitered by the walls, pretending not to stare at the platform.

Everyone was here for one reason.

Rein—the battlemage in crimson and black robes who silenced a containment-class threat single-handedly—was being promoted.

No party. No summons. Just him.

And yet… the weight of that name had shifted.

They no longer whispered "that battlemage in crimson and darkness."

They had started calling him something else.

"Veilcaster."

The name came from how he fought—without flair, without noise. His magic slipped through reality like silk, unseen until the world simply changed around him. Spells executed with no chants. No gestures. No wasted breath.

A ghost. A scholar. A storm veiled in robes.

Guildmaster Ainzach stepped forward, scroll in hand, voice steady despite the weight of the moment.

"By decree of the Royal Adventurer's Alliance… and with recognition from the Central Council…"

He unrolled the parchment with trembling fingers.

"…we hereby acknowledge Rein, wandering battlemage from the north, will be given the title the " Veilcaster" , as an Adamantite-class Adventurer, with all rank, rights, and responsibility that title confers."

No cheering. Just silence.

And respect.

Rein stepped onto the platform, his robes trailing like dusk over water.

"I accept," he said.

Just that.

And yet—every adventurer in the hall stood.

Not because they were told.

But because they understood.

Outside, the name had already spread.

"Did you hear? He didn't even chant when he ended the threat."

"They say the ogre burned away without a scream."

"Veilcaster. You think that's his alias?"

"What? No, don't be dumb—that's his title. His alias is the Crimson-Dark Battlemage. Like Fluder Paradyne, remember? His alias is The Sage of the Empire, but his actual title is Imperial Court Wizard."

Children tried to sketch his silhouette from memory. Shopkeepers paused when he passed. Older warriors looked away—not in disrespect, but humility.

Rein walked on, unfazed.

Not rushing.

Not hiding.

Only listening—to the whispers behind him.

And the weight of a world starting to watch.

*****************

"Some kings raise armies.Others… seek to recruit the storm itself."

Imperial Palace, Baharuth – Throne Hall

Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix slammed a golden seal onto the war table.

"Send another letter."

The chamber fell quiet.

His advisor, Loric, cleared his throat. "My Emperor… that would be the third letter this week."

"Then bind it in gold this time. Tell him I'm prepared to offer land. Research rights. Personal rank under the Imperial Arcane Directorate. I don't care. I want him."

Jircniv paced, cloak snapping behind him.

"Do you understand what 'Veilcaster' is, Loric? He cast Tier Five destruction magic as if he were brushing dust off his sleeve. And he didn't even care to announce it."

Loric hesitated. "We still don't know his allegiance, my liege."

"Exactly," Jircniv hissed. "That's the terrifying part. He's not claimed — not by guild, nation, religion, or coin."

He stopped, eyes narrowing.

"If we do not claim him, someone else will."

Re-Estize Kingdom – Royal Strategy Council

The room was in chaos.

"The Baharuth Empire is courting him."

"They sent an emissary with a magic-laced offer scroll."

"They want to make him a state mage—one step away from court wizard!"

King Ramposa III folded his hands atop the polished oak table, his gaze distant as the ministers' panicked arguments slowed to silence.

"A battlemage without a banner... and yet the whole continent stirs at his footsteps."

He looked around the chamber, his voice steady despite the unrest around him.

"He refused the Empire. That alone says much of his nature. It's not greed that drives him."

Marquis Raeven leaned forward. "Then what does, Your Majesty? Surely no man walks with such power and asks for nothing."

Ramposa's eyes narrowed faintly.

"Pride? No. He shows no arrogance.Curiosity? Perhaps. But even that feels too small."

He looked to Renner, whose expression was unreadable, then to the court mage.

"Have we confirmed anything? His origin? His techniques?"

The mage shook his head, frustrated. "No academy claims him. No known noble bloodline. His casting is... refined and instant. Almost surgical. But completely no delay. I've never seen anything like it, not even in Fluder Paradyne's earliest works."

The king exhaled.

"Then we must accept a simple truth. Rein, the Veilcaster, is not a man shaped by our courts or titles. He is shaped by something else."

A long pause.

One of the younger nobles finally asked, "Should we... attempt to bind him to us? With land? Title? Perhaps through a royal marriage—?"

Ramposa raised a hand.

"No. That would insult him. He is not a beast to collar."

"We will not compete with the Empire by dangling jewels and chains."

"Instead, we observe. We respect. And we prepare."

The room quieted under the weight of the king's final words.

Princess Renner smiled demurely, seeing the situation unfold. "The last time a caster like that appeared, we named an entire era after him."

Silence.

"You mean Fluder Paradyne," Marquis Raeven said grimly.

Renner nodded. "And even he needed decades to reach that level."

Neutral Correspondence Intercept – Between Empires

To Rein, known as Veilcaster,It would honor the Empire greatly to offer you permanent residence within the Imperial Palace's Arcane Wing. You shall have your own sanctum, research liberty, and direct access to the Imperial Vaults.We wish not to restrain your strength, but to elevate it as a recognized protector of our people.—Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix

Back in Re-Estize – A Tavern Whisper

"Did you hear?" a dwarf said over ale.

"Yeah," said the elf. "The Empire offered Veilcaster land and a title."

"And?"

"He said nothing. Just kept walking."

Kingdom Response, Behind Closed Doors

"We cannot let him go," Raeven snapped. "If the Empire gains a battlemage of that caliber, we'll be one spell away from surrender!"

"But he doesn't belong to us," another minister protested.

"Then bribe him. Marry him. Invent a knighthood and make him a duke! Just—don't lose him!"

"What if we do nothing?" Renner said, smile sharp as ice. "Let him remain neutral. Independent."

Everyone turned.

"Isn't that better than risking offense?" she continued. "After all… power hates to be cornered."

And Rein…?

He read the scroll once.

Twice.

Then tossed it into his private storage space like it was nothing more than scrap.

"Land, vault access, and a court seat," he muttered. "For what? Flashing fire?"

He stared out the window of his inn, watching birds flutter beyond the rooftops.

*****************

"When the world sees you as a legend, it forgets you're also a man."

[Location: E-Rantel, Rein's Temporary Residence — Private Study]

Stacks of letters covered the desk like a nobleman's buffet. Silken envelopes, gilded edges, wax seals stamped with everything from gryphons to blooming roses. Some were still glowing faintly with tracking spells.

Ainz—still dressed in his travel cloak—stood silently before the desk, arms crossed, eyes unmoving.

"Again?" he murmured.

From the side of the room, Nabe bowed deeply.

"It has doubled since yesterday, Lord Ainz—apologies. I have sorted them by threat level, magical interference, and romantic delusion."

She gestured toward three piles.

Ainz sighed.

"That one?" he pointed at the tallest stack.

"Marriage proposals," Nabe replied with mild contempt.

He leaned closer, reading the top letter aloud.

To the Distinguished Lord Rein of the Veilcaster As the third daughter of House Felzan, I humbly extend my hand in alliance, magic, and matrimony...

He stopped reading.

"Magic and matrimony. Impressive ambition," Ainz muttered.

Nabe didn't respond.

"The Guild warned me this might happen if I went solo on a high-risk quest and 'looked mysterious.'"

He pulled another scroll at random.

"This one's sealed in perfume."Sniff"Is that lavender?"

"No," Nabe said coolly. "It's laced with a mild charm compound. I already disarmed it."

Ainz blinked. "Of course you did."

"Do you wish me to… incinerate them, Lord Ainz?"

He raised a hand to stop her.

"No, not yet. Some of these nobles are powerful enough to cause minor political headaches. I'd rather not insult them just yet."

A brief silence passed as he tapped his fingers against the desk.

"Still. It's getting ridiculous."

********************

[Late Evening – Rein's Private Study, E-Rantel Inn]

The fireplace cracked quietly. Magical lamplight flickered across polished wood. Rein — or rather, Ainz — sat behind his desk, flipping through the third sealed scroll of the evening.

"…with this marriage, our house would gladly offer land, servants, and even a private leyline chamber for your exclusive use…"

Ainz sighed and set the scroll aside, next to a growing pile of nearly identical offers. Dozens of noble houses, big and small, were now flooding him with marriage proposals, each more desperate or extravagant than the last.

"This is getting out of hand…"

From behind him, Nabe's voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Shall I kill them, Lord Ainz?"

He blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"The nobles. All of them. These letters are disrespectful. Insolent mongrels offering themselves to you as if they were worthy."

Her expression was cold, her tone flatter than stone.

"Even suggesting a union with you is blasphemy."

Ainz held up a hand.

"Nabe, we can't just murder aristocrats because they sent letters."

"They're insects."

"They're politically useful insects," he corrected, gently pinching the bridge of his nose.

She stepped forward, lowering her voice, but her fury remained clear.

"No human is fit to stand beside you. Only one in Nazarick may ever claim such right. And she has already sworn her heart to you."

"You mean Albedo."

"Yes. Lady Albedo. Supreme Overseer. Your rightful match."

Ainz groaned internally.

"This again…"

"I will personally incinerate any noble who dares imply otherwise."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"Nabe… we are trying to blend in. Mass assassination might send the wrong message."

She lowered her head.

"As you command, my Lord."

Ainz glanced at the letters again.

"Still… I can't believe how many there are. Half of these nobles have never even seen my face."

Nabe responded instantly, voice hard and proud.

"Your aura alone is enough. That is why they grovel. That is why they dream of having a piece of what they can never touch."

Ainz muttered, "That's… not exactly comforting."