webnovel

Of Maple syrup, skeletons and warcrimes (Overlord/Marvel) Round-robin

We all know the drill. Nazarick arrives into a dark fantasy world and much happens until eventually our dashing "hero" conquers a kingdom of his own. Here instead our dashing hero arrives into a dark fantasy world too, but one of heroes and villains, of alien invasions and cosmic entities and he does found a kingdom of his own too. One built over the ashes of the evilest place on Earth. Original work by : Deatstroke - https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/deatstroke.316206/ Author Patreon (This is original author Pat, he's back! so if you guys wanna support him, just go give him some money~) : https://www.patreon.com/deatstroke Original work here : https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/of-maple-syrup-skeletons-and-warcrimes-overlord-marvel-round-robin.757444/reader/ Cover : https://www.reddit.com/r/overlord/comments/g86u82/the_goddess_albedo_jju/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share https://pinterest.com/pin/623818985881138033/ Be warned the site is virtually unreadable so i posted it here for a better reading experience.

Lasyandra · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
40 Chs

31. Lucifer's Dance

"I still don't see why I should debase myself to using this… contraption," Logan's new 'travel companion' complained for the umpteenth time.

"I told ya we weren't gonna do what ya want, this is much less attention grabbin'," answered Logan, barely holding back a sigh.

"I still don't understand what problem you have with flying or using my carriage. It's simply a more efficient way of doing things and equally inconspicuous." Logan could not see her, but he was sure the young girl was pouting, or had a murderous expression worthy of a monster. Either one or the other.

Holding back a sigh, Logan tried to ignore her"Just keep quiet and let me drive. We're almost there."

Shalltear did not answer and for a second Logan could almost imagine she was just another annoying young and impressionable girl following him around out of some misplaced sense of duty or expecting him to be some kind of moral standard he certainly was not.

Of course that lasted all of five seconds until he remembered what she was and the circumstances in which he had learnt it.

---​

Right in front of Logan's eyes the formerly dead man had convulsed as his body changed. Wounds mended and flesh re-knit itself. But these were not all the changes, as the man's body repaired itself so did it shift. Canines grew larger, skin turned dark purple, almost corpse-like and his extremities extended, turning into a parody of what a man looked like.

Logan had seen similar changes, if never so pronounced, before. They had all come from one kind of being alone, one being that was almost universally evil and with whom he had unpleasant experiences before.

She's a vampire, damit!

It took everything he had not to jump at the young girl, or at least what looked like a young girl . She on the other hand just stood there, alternatively looking at him and at the newly sired vampire as Logan finished his interrogation of the other biker.

"Hey mutt, aren't you going to answer?���� Asked the now confirmed vampire with clear contempt.

Now everything made sense for Logan. The smell, her imperviousness to wounds, how she was so utterly callous and unconcerned for human lives, even the trash they had fought against. In hindsight it was obvious what she was.

All in all it didn't bode well for him.

Now that Logan finally understood the situation he had to decide on a course of action as quickly as possible. Vampires were normally hard enemies to fight, even for him, but this one was even worse and Logan didn't have many hopes in his chances of coming out on top if it came down to another fight. But it did not matter, under no condition was he going to be turned into a vampire again.

"Mutt, are you ignoring me?" Suddenly the vampire girl was in front of him, sharp nails pointing at his face.

"No," Logan finally managed to spit, "what did ya say?"

"I asked," spoke the vampire, her tone as if talking with a mentally impaired person, "if you have any problem with my use of this trash. You did seem worried when I raised it."

Logan thought of many possible answers, lying, telling a half-truth and improvising. Ideas came as fast as they were discarded before he decided on a course of action.

"Yes, I do." Subtlety after all had never been one of Logan's strong points.

"Huh?" The vampire seemed confused, as if it was not expecting him to answer as he did.

"I've… had bad experiences with vampires." Logan spat the word as if cursed.

"Ah… Well, that is not my problem."

Of all possible answers that wasn't one Logan had even considered. Derision, empty platitudes, even an honest attempt to reassure him. He had thought all of that possible, but complete disregard for him? That he didn't see coming.

"Let me explain it in simple words a dog like you can understand. I do not care about who you are or how you feel, I have accepted your offer to work for- with me for now. But that is only as far as our goals align." The vampire's ruby red eyes narrowed as she spoke "So do we have a problem or can we get going?"

---​

Ever since that time two days ago, he and the vampire had travelled together. The empty roads of Northern Canada the only sign of civilization and the ever present wind the only sound.

After a long and hard argument (where more than once Logan had been threatened with bodily harm) he had managed to convince the imprudent vampire that using his motorbike was the most inconspicuous way of moving, not that it had stopped her from trying again and again to convince him otherwise. By this point Logan was starting to believe the vampire had some kind of pathological need to be 'right'.

Thankfully their other points of contention had been much easier, if gruesomely in one case, dealt with.

Due to how obviously attention grabbing her clothes were, it had not been hard to get Shalltear to change into something less eye catching and while she had refused to use any of the clothes he had offered her, she had somehow procured what looked like a fetishistic girl high school uniform and a heavy winter coat. The vampire she had sired on the other hand had been a much more repulsive affair. While Logan had preferred to simply get rid of it or order it to follow them through the forest, Shalltear had opted for a 'simpler' and 'more elegant', as she had so succinctly explained it, solution. Cutting off its arms and legs and stuffing it inside Logan's (now empty) duffle bag.

The fact that carrying a mutilated reanimated corpse in his bag bothered him so little probably said bad things about Logan and his life choices.

"Mutt! Turn to the right next, our 'guide' thinks we are close," yelled Shalltear, her emphasis on the word a not at all subtle jab at Logan's discomfort with the mutilated vampire.

While the land around them was carpeted white from the last snowfall, the visibility was thankfully very good and it did not take Logan much work to see the obviously newly-paved road going deeper into the forest, something not very attention grabbing if not for the fact that they were currently driving through northernmost Manitoba and there was barely any traffic in the area and no towns or other large concentrations of people to justify the new road.

Whatever the case, Logan's bike sped along the deserted road, the surrounding forest thickening as they moved further into the (seemingly empty) wilderness.

They had driven for close to one kilometer before Shalltear signaled for him to stop, prompting Logan to pull aside. Shalltear swiftly jumping from the bike not a second after, Logan's big duffle bag hitting against her back with a meaty thud.

"Yes?" Asked Logan, curious about what the vampire wanted.

"Our guide says we are close. I though it better if we didn't arrive in this piece of- ah, vehicle of yours"

Logan answered with a simple "hmph", while remembering the many times his bike had been busted by other mutants or simply armed humans Logan was ready to agree with her assessment, even if he suspected she had simply used it as an excuse to get out of the bike.

"Let's go then, shortstuff," said Logan as he turned to continue walking to their objective, knowing very well how the vampire girl would react.

"I told you to stop calling me that, you filthy mutt," Logan wasn't looking at her, but he now knew her well enough to imagine her furious face at her inability to properly hurt Logan in any way that stuck, nevermind how that would compromise their mission.

Heh, gotta learn how to control that anger one day bub, thought Logan, a smirk forming on his face as he continued walking parallel to the road and deeper into the forest, a fuming vampire following close by.

---​

They didn't have to walk long, arriving to what for all intents and purposes looked like a portside warehouse complex, if not for the fact that it was deeply inland, around 200 kilometers away from Hudson's bay. The perimeter marked by barbed wire and watch towers. The armed guards patrolling it didn't help matters at all.

The entire affair was looking more suspicious by the second, all but confirming Logan's suspicions of what he and Shalltear had been tracking.

Hiding behind a mound of snow at the edge of the forest, Logan inspected the defenses of their current objective. Unluckily for them, they were much more formidable than what the bikers had told them.

"Two guards every twenty meters, automatic weapons with machinegun nests in key areas." Logan paused, taking a deep breath and searching for any familiar scent, "There's vehicles inside, plane fuel too and… I ain't sure, but it's familiar," finished Logan as he slowly crawled over the snow, trying to get a better view of their enemy.

Shalltear on the other hand was not very impressed, and probably having decided that under no circumstances would her body touch the filthy ground, remained standing with no care for discovery.

"Get down or they'll see us!��� angrily ordered Logan, "and see if ya can get anything else outta that thing."

"Bah, what does it matter if those bugs see me, witnessing my fair form one last time before I end their pitiful lives would be a blessing and our 'guide' knows nothing else, as I am no fool and I have already asked it everything I could think off."

And I can only imagine how much you didn't think about, thought Logan, but decided not to voice it, as antagonizing the vampire girl right now could prove itself disastrous.

"It ain't the point girl, we need ta get inside and rescue muh people without alerting them and ta do that we need a plan."

Attacking a secret facility was not something Logan was unfamiliar with, during his years of fighting, be it as an X-men, a member of Alpha Flight, the Avengers, SHIELD or any of the others, had seen him do his fair share of raiding. For all that the crazies that ran such places thought themselves too clever and too well protected there was always a way in and if not then his adamantium claws made one for him.

The problem here was that they weren't going to rescue a few team members who could be trusted to arrange their own escape if Logan made a loud enough distraction, nor was this a simple smash and grab. If the bikers and his own sources could be trusted then there were close to a thousand missing mutants and all evidence pointed at them being held inside one, if not all the warehouses.

If Logan made a wrong move here it could cost the lives of hundreds of mutants and he could not risk such a thing.

"A plan? I do have a plan already." The pride in Shalltear's words as she 'put Logan in his place' was almost a tangible thing.

Logan raised an eyebrow, a gesture he had copied from Beast. "And that plan is...?"

Shalltear smiled, her perfect and far too sharp and numerous teeth greeting Logan.

"Well, it is very simple. First I grab this," she said as she got ahold of their mutilated 'guide' by the throat and walked forward.

Before Logan could stop her Shalltear was outside of their cover and walking towards the perimeter. One of the closest guards on a watch tower saw her and started raising the alarm.

"Then I do this." With no effort she lifted the 60 kilograms of undead flesh and then threw it, her movements reminiscent of a baseball player if one were to replace the ball for an undead abomination.

The vampire soared through the air, its flesh torn apart by the sudden acceleration. Its body impacted the tower while travelling at just above the sound barrier. Vampiric flesh liquified and the entire structure came apart in a shower of pulverized metal and wood.

Then other guards only hard a second to be surprised before another projectile, this time a freshly plucked three hit another one.

"Then I just kill them all. The alarm can't be raised if there is no one to raise it." And with a gleeful laugh she jumped into the fray.

---​

He once had a name but that was long in the past. In his line of work one had to learn quickly or die and one of the many things he had learnt was that names held power and power was something he would never allow his enemies to hold over him. Once he had had a name but today he was only known by his alias.

He was an expert at his job, the man who could get whatever you needed as long as you could pay the price. Someone called him Satan's peddler or Hell's retailer. It didn't matter what you wanted, be it weapons, people or even magic. He would get it.

He was known as the Auctioneer.

The Auctioneer was a simple man. A merchant at heart, he loved money more than anything. To him a satisfied client was of the greatest pleasures in life, only surpassed by their monetary appreciativeness. In other words, he loved his job.

Sadly, ever since his encounter with Alpha Flight all those years ago his life had taken a turn for the worse. His assets had been confiscated, his contacts had either abandoned him or come to accompany him in jail. It seemed like his life of trading had come to an end.

But all had changed one year before, when the person he had least expected had come to him with an offer he couldn't refuse. They needed someone with his abilities and they were ready to pay for it.

His assets had recovered and then grew tenfold. His organization expanded, his allies greater than they ever were. The Auctioneer's life had done a 180° and he was now where he belonged.

Of course he had to work for it, but he had no problem with that. As the old saying went, 'When one loves their job that means they aren't actually working.' He was a trader and trading was what he loved the most.

So it was that at the behest of his new clients he gathered what was required. Special materials and special people, tomes of lore and ancient artifacts. Through violence, subterfuge and money he gained them all, the praises of his satisfied clientele like music to his ears.

Nowadays his operation had grown to a size he could not have imagined years prior. Thousands of men, many of whom had come straight out of the armed forces, enforced his will and did his bidding.

His current project was his magnum opus. The Auctioneer had dabbled in human trafficking before, taking it to the level of dozens of people at one time ever since his new benefactor had hired him, but this operation was different.

All over the country (and even in parts of the United States) his men had carefully researched and then captured their targets. Deniable assets had been made use of, many to be discarded as soon as they stopped being necessary, yet the bulk of the work had been carried out by his own people.

In a period of three months thirty five hundred people had been captured and their existence erased. no one would know any of them were missing and those who did would not dare to speak of it. And the next order of captures meant his operation was only bound to grow, as far as the Auctioneer was concerned the sky was the limit. What he had done and would continue to do was something beyond impressive and every time he thought about it a certain childish giddiness overcame him.

Currently he was at the prime detention facility, where five hundred people, all of them mutants, were about to be processed before being shipped to their buyers. The Auctioneer didn't know what they intended to do with them nor did he care, his involvement only extended as far as the delivery, whatever his clients did with the product was not his business to pry into.

So it was that he found himself in his office, reading the latest reports on the implantation of control collars. He was happy to see that everything would be ready for the delivery date.

"Excuse me, sir." With a beep from the intercom, came the voice of his assistant slash secretary, Ms. Blackwood.

"Yes, what is it, Becky?" Answered the Auctioneer. He quite liked Ms. Blackwood as ever since he had hired her productivity had grown, the petite dark haired woman proving herself able to find every criminal pawn and arrange any shady deal he ever needed her to. If things went well in their next transaction he was even going to offer her a raise.

"I need to talk with you sir, it's about the missing truck." To the Auctioneer's she sounded worried and he could understand why, the missing truck carrying the very important, and very expensive, control collars was her responsibility, yet it and its contents been missing for more than a week already risking the entire operation.

"Of course, come in."

The young woman didn't take long to obey. Her neatly tied black hair, conservative attire and bespectacled face made her look professional and dependable, but there was a real worry in her eyes alongside… mirth maybe?

But the Auctioneer was not one to waste time and as soon as she entered he waived for her to sit.

"So what did you need Becky?"

"Well sir, I assume you remember the missing truck." as he nodded she continued "It seems it isn't missing anymore. I discovered its driver somehow ended up driving it to the United States, where it was captured by some kind of mutant paramilitary organization. While I haven't been able to learn much else about it I fear that may have alerted them to our operations. I'm deeply sorry sir."

That was bad and while he knew it wasn't his secretary's fault. The woman had done a wonderful job so far and he could hardly hold her accountable for the error's of the truck driver.

"It is no problem. These kinds of things happen we can only learn from them. Now, was that all?" The Auctioneer asked. It had been a long day and he wanted to go back home as soon as possible. Even with a personal helicopter it was still more than two hours' travel to get back to his mansion.

"Yes sir, I would be grateful if you could check the installation of the control collars." Requested Becky.

"Is there a problem? I read the reports and things seemed to be going well." Normally his organization worked like a well oiled machine, so such a string of miscommunications and failures seemed strange.

"Nothing is amiss sir, it's just that I think it would be better if you supervised the process today." The secretary's words were sincere and her expression was enough to convince the Auctioneer. He was not a hard man and when his subordinates asked for something he would usually allow it, even more so if they proved themselves as capable as Becky had.

"Well, I guess I can stay here a little longer."

"Thank you sir," continued Becky, "now if you don't mind I will continue with my duties."

She smiled at him once again before getting up and leaving.

---​

"Please please, let my children go! Keep me but let them go!" the screams of the woman were quickly silenced by the butt of a rifle to her gut. The petite female mutant falling to the ground as three young children (who the Auctioneer assumed were the aforementioned children) gathered protectively around her.

"Careful with the merchandise!" The Auctioneer chastised the guard who had struck the woman. While he was unconcerned for their lives as humans he was careful of them as a product. Every person, be they a mutant or not, would be healthy, well fed and fit when delivered. The Auctioneer depended too much on his reputation to allow faulty products to tarnish it.

"Sorry boss, just a reflex from mah time in da army."apologised the guard sheepishly.

"it is not a problem, just make sure it doesn't happen again," the Auctioneer answered before turning to the stricken woman, "and you. You should know what your situation is by now and how the best you can do is play by the rules. If you behave you and your children should be fine, if you don't then we will need to make use of more unpleasant means. Think about it."

With his threat done, the Auctioneer turned around and left the holding area-slash-warehouse where the mutants were being put their new control collars.

The Auctioneer was still unsure what his secretary wanted him to see, but he had spent the last two hours watching close to five hundred mutants being processed with nary a hiccup. All in all he was actually quite proud of the professionalism of his employees.

Maybe this was a ruse to get me to give them a raise? That Becky sure is crafty. Though the Auctioneer as the process continued behind him.

"P-please no, stop... stop! God, it huuurts!" The screams came from another captive, this one a male.

"MOMMY, MOMMY HELP!" Echoed another, this one a children of around 7 years of age.

"No, no no no no no" cried another as the guards dragged her to where the collar would be implanted.

It was sad to see such valuable merchandise suffer, but the cost of sedating all of them would be prohibitive, nevermind that the collars could be better tested if they were conscious. It was sad but it was necessary nonetheless.

"Then gentlemen, I will leave you to your work." The Auctioneer smiled at his workers before leaving. It always paid to be courteous.

He was barely ten meters away from the warehouse when he heard the first explosion, a second one following quickly after. The sound was strangely muffled, more like a high speed crash than any kind of chemical reaction.

In seconds the armed guards were moving to where the sound had come from and where the echoes of gunfire now emanated. The Auctioneer of course moved the exact opposite way.

Of course curiosity was a great curse for even the most pragmatic of individuals and he couldn't hold himself from looking back every few seconds. He didn't like what he saw.

He saw death.

The point where the perimeter had been breached had been previously obscured by the warehouse he had just came out of, but now his field of view was clear and he could see his enemies.

Two people were advancing into the complex, one a petite girl and the other a man wearing a leather jacket. Guard after war was cut down as they moved, the man using metal blades coming out of his fists and ignoring any and all form of weaponry that struck him, as if it was nothing more than a harmless water gun, the girl on the other hand was the incarnation of violence.

Heads and limbs were lopped off faster than the eye could follow, only to be turned into deadly projectiles that struck those farther away. Gunfire of any kind, even some of the heavier machineguns, was completely ignored. Unlike the man, the girl didn't even give notice to it.

Unbidden, his secretary' words came back to his mind. The possible capture of the truck by mutants now taking a whole new reality to it. He had dismissed the danger and was now going to pay the price.

But the Auctioneer was not defeated, even if his guards were not up to par he always had an ace in the hole. His defeat at the hands of Alpha Flight had taught him that and his generous sponsors had made it possible for him to obtain it.

Smiling cruelly he ran towards his office. One way or another he would show these intruders not to mess with him.

---​

"HAHAAHAHAHA," Shalltear laughed freely as she ripped another puny human apart, their legs and torso flying in different directions as their blood flowed into the sphere hovering behind her "YES! Give me more."

Another human tried to run away, only to be impaled by his own discarded rifle before Shalltear lifted him to the air one handedly as some kind of macabre parody of a standard.

Her nails cleaved through a face and then her fist impacted a chest, violently liquefying it. Blood, which should have been everywhere and on everything flowed as a hundred small rivers into the sphere at her back, making the violent scene a strangely bloodless affair of destroyed, yet spotless, bodies. To an spectator it would have looked like something out of a videogame.

Before long she was not outside anymore, but inside a building of some kind, not that her frenzied mind could care at all with the screams of terror from the humans spurring her on. The delight she felt as their flesh broke and their screams were forever silenced was impossible to put in words. She was a hunter and they were her prey. She would take and they would give, for that was the natural order of the world.

She noticed other humans, these ones closely bundled together, as if believing numbers alone would protect them from her wrath.

She smiled, a piece of bloody flesh from a human she had bitten (when had she bitten him?) falling to the ground, the blood gently curving as it defied gravity and went into her Blood Pool.

But before she could take care of the humans something impacted her midsection. Despite its greater mass it was unable to even make her stammer, much less bring her down. Looking at her side she saw another human, this one covered in blood and wearing an awful leather jacket. The still rational part of Shalltear told her this creature was important somehow but she couldn't remember why exactly that was.

"Shalltear snap outta it! These people are innocent, that's not why we're here" The human seemed to know her name though she wasn't sure how that was possible nor why he was talking about her 'reasons'.

Actually, why am I here anyway?

That was on itself an interesting question, one that Shalltear would see answered after she was done killing.

She easily pried the human away, holding him by one of his arms. Maybe she should just use him as a club to get rid of the others? Or just throw him instead, the possibilities were endless.

"Dammit shortstuff, remember what we came for, remember ya mission!" The human's plead struck Shalltear, his words pulling her out of the red gaze that enveloped her view.

The mission? Yes, the mission, Ainz-sama wanted me to…

She dropped the human, no, 'the mutt' to the ground as she felt her blood frenzy subside.

Slowly but surely her thoughts became clearer, the fog that had clouded her mind lifting as she put aside her more animalistic instincts. Letting her finally understand where she was and what surrounded her.

Somehow during the fighting she had gotten inside one of the warehouses and the humans she was about to slaughter were no other than the ones she had come to rescue, their slave collars and terrified faces more than enough proof of that.

Oh no, I almost failed Ainz-sama, if it weren't for that human I would have… It was unthinkable to fail her Lord and master, especially when he had personally entrusted her with this mission. Even taking her own life would not have been enough to atone for her mistake.

The mutt may not have known it, but he had done Shalltear a great service by stopping her, one that she would need to pay back.

"Tch, fucking mutt" she murmured as she, grudgingly, helped the mutant back to his feet.

"I heard that" answered Logan.

"As if I care!" Almost seamlessly Shalltear had fallen into her usual pattern of back and forth bickering as she did with Aura. Of course the fact that she was doing the same with a lowly human went unnoticed by her.

"Then shut up and help me free these people. They ain't going to be safe unless we get them outta here," spoke Logan before she could argue anymore.

Chastised by the mutant's words Shalltear got to helping the captive mutants, which had remained silent during Shalltear and Logan's exchange.

There were hundreds of them inside the big warehouse, tightly bound to one another and separated in groups of those with collars and those without and while some were out cold, either due to the mistreatment of their captors or due to fear of Shalltear, it wasn't hard to get the rest to take care of them.

As shackles were broken and locks busted, hope started to blossom in the eyes of more and more mutants. While initially scared by the duo, the fact that they were freeing them meant they were good guys,right? Or at least that's how their thought process went. The ease with which they took care of the guards giving them hope that escape was possible.

What happened next dashed those hopes rather thoroughly.

One of the walls of the warehouse was brutally ripped apart, giant hands peeling away the metal as if it were a paper mache model.

The being responsible was big, around a quarter the size of Gargantua if Shalltear had to eyeball it. It was made of metal and had a humanoid form, even a facsimile of a face. Shalltear did not know what it was but she assumed a golem of some kind. The mutants on the other hand...

"Sentinel!"

---

AN:

Aaaaand done.

Yeah yeah, it took fucking forever, I know. I could give many excuses but the truth is that it was a mix of "I didn't have time due to real life" at first and then I simply didn't feel like writing. But hey, I eventually managed to so everything's fine I guess?

I don't know how you will feel about this chapter, but believe it or not this stuff will be super important later on.

In case you are wondered who the Auctioneer is:

Auctioneer (Earth-616) - https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Auctioneer_(Earth-616)

EDIT: Actually, because some people sometimes ahve problems telling wether a chapter is happening in the present or the past, I'm going to add a clarification in the Author notes from now on.

[Past chapter]

Please support the original writer here :

https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/of-maple-syrup-skeletons-and-warcrimes-overlord-marvel-round-robin.757444/reader/

Lasyandracreators' thoughts