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Overlord: A Brave New World With My Servants

Isaiah logs on for one final time to experience the end of his beloved game, YGGDRASIL, but is transported into a new world as his player character. Struggling to adapt, he must navigate the dangers of this new world where every move could mean life or death. He makes new allies and enemies as he discovers the fate of this game world is tied to his own. He must decide if he wants to return to his old life or if this new one is where he truly belongs.

Myles_115 · 漫画同人
分數不夠
5 Chs

A Brave New World

Noticing that the timer had reached zero, Isaiah moved to exit the game and prepare for a good night's rest. But despite reaching out, he was met with nothing.

'Huh?' Isaiah thought to himself as he looked around the room in confusion. He had expected to be logged out of the game, but instead, he was still in the game world, in the form of his character avatar.

"What in the world?" he asked out loud just to realize something else. His voice was different, much younger than it had been before.

Isaiah began to panic as he tried to use various player functions, like the chat or a GM call, but none of them seemed to be working. He couldn't log out of the game either.

Before being able to fully understand what was going on, a black smoke began emitting to Isaiah's left. From that smoke appeared a kneeling Servant, one that worked under one of the Grands.

"I apologize for startling you, Master," said a kneeling woman wearing a black, form-fitting outfit and a skull mask. "But we have a situation on our hands. Hostile forces have been detected approaching from the south."

'Did she just speak!?' Isaiah was bewildered at this. NPCs were not known for speaking so to hear Serenity was a surprise.

'And did she say hostiles from the south? An invasion of all things!?' Part of him wanted to believe that this was an end-game event.

His apparent anxiety, however, was interpreted differently by the entities present within the room.

"Sir Gawain, protect the entrance to the inner layer. Sir Tristan, provide support to the outer layer. For the rest of you Knights, head out and secure the roads connecting Chaldea's fortresses," Artoria quickly and dutifully handed the orders for the Knights of the Round.

"At once," the Knights responded as they made their way to the assigned positions.

"What are your orders, Master?" Artoria asked while staring at Isaiah who was internally screaming.

'How the hell am I supposed to know!?!? Scratch that... Why can't I access my console?'

"Serenity, what information do you have on the invaders?" Sherlock asked.

"From what I can see, they seem to be demi-humans. But that's not the only urgent issue we face. It seems that we've been transported out of our usual environment," Serenity informed him.

'Transported?' Isaiah switched from worrisome to attentive. As he considered the various strange occurrences he had noticed - the NPCs acting independently, his inability to access the console, and the sudden appearance of invaders threatening Chaldea - he made a decision and issued a command.

"Serenity, advise Hundred Faces to investigate every inch of our nearby surroundings. I urge him to use all of his personas for the task." Isaiah ordered.

"I will do as you decree, Master," Serenity bowed before disappearing.

"Artoria, I need you to take care of the enemy invasion and above all, prioritize the safety of our people." He continued, "I trust you will complete this task with the utmost care and efficiency."

"Of course, Master," Artoria nodded, then made eye contact with Sherlock. "Can I entrust you with Master's safety, Ruler."

Sherlock gave her a reassuring look, "You have my word. I will ensure the safety of my creator at all times while he is under my protection."

Artoria smiled at the reassurance, before turning and leaving the throne room with haste.

Assuming he had been transported outside of the familiar laws of his world, Isaiah imagined using the Mirror of Remote Viewing. As its name suggested, the mirror gave him control of a remote camera, and to his surprise, it worked. He was now able to see the situation outside of Camelot through the mirror's lens.

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A combination of English knights and Roman infantry were currently holding off the invaders from entering Camelot.

Their combined efforts formed a formidable barrier, with the knights' chivalry and expertise in hand-to-hand combat, and the Romans' disciplined formation and mastery of ranged weaponry.

The two forces were working in tandem, using their unique strengths to repel the attack.

Said invaders were a terrifying sight to behold. Their skin was a sickly pale color, with elongated limbs and fingers ending in powerful sucker-cups. Their heads were elongated as well, with wide, lipless mouths filled with sharp teeth.

But what was most striking about them were their tongues - long, thin, and covered in venomous barbs.

The superior members of these creatures were able to change their skin color, making them almost impossible to spot in the right environment.

They stood tall, towering over the average human, their lanky frame making them appear almost skeletal. Their eyes glinted with a cold, intelligent malice, making it clear that these were not creatures to be trifled with.

Despite their vast numbers, there appeared to be no clear strategy or coordination amongst the demi-human attackers.

They seemed to be driven solely by their hoardish nature, recklessly charging at the defenders without any apparent tactical advantage. This made them vulnerable to the defenders' well-coordinated maneuvers and superior weaponry.

The demi-humans seemed to be using brute force and overwhelming numbers as their only weapon, making it easy for the defenders to outmaneuver and outsmart them.

It was clear that the defenders had the upper hand, but with the sheer size of the hoard, it would still be a long and grueling battle.

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the battlefield. It was a woman, tall and regal, with curves that were accentuated by her silver and blue armor. Her helmet was carved to resemble the face of a lion, with a mane that flowed down her back.

It was the Grand Lancer of Chaldea, Artoria Pendragon. She was the embodiment of grace and power as she strode into the fray, her cloak flowing behind her.

Her movements were fluid and precise, like a dancer's, as she fought with skill and precision. Her lance, the Holy Lance, glowed with an ethereal light as it struck down the creatures with ease.

Her emerald eyes were full of life, and seemed to sparkle with determination and courage.

The enemies, who had seemed so insurmountable before, now cowered before her. The defenders, seeing her arrival, fought with renewed vigor and hope, knowing that they had a powerful ally on their side.

"Sacred lance, removing restraints!" She shouted in preparation for her attack.

As the Grand Servant prepared to unleash her devastating attack, the troops around her quickly began to scatter. They knew that being too close to her when she unleashed her power would mean certain doom for them.

The ground shook beneath their feet as she charged her attack, the air crackled with energy. They could see her stance shift, her grip on her weapon tighten, her eyes focus.

The troops around her knew the signs, they knew that the Grand Servant was about to unleash an attack of formidable power, and they needed to put as much distance between themselves and her as they could.

They scrambled to safety, leaving the Servant standing alone in the middle of the battlefield, ready to unleash her devastating power upon the enemy.

"Light, may you be released from the ends of the world. Split the heavens and tether the earth, anchor of the storm!"

The invading demi-humans were momentarily confused, as if unsure of what was happening. They had been charging forward, their numbers seemingly endless, but then, everything suddenly came to a halt.

They looked around in confusion, as if wondering what could have caused their assault to falter. And then they saw her, Artoria, her tall, regal figure standing alone in the middle of the battlefield, her lance glowing with a brilliant light.

The light emanating from Artoria's lance began to gather and focus, growing brighter and brighter, until it was almost unbearable to look at.

It seemed to converge onto a single point at the tip of her lance. As the light reached its peak, it started to travel upwards, soaring into the sky.

The demi-humans looked on in awe as the light seemed to pierce the very heavens, climbing higher and higher into the sky.

It was as if the light was reaching for something, something beyond the mortal realm, beyond the confines of the world. The troops, who had scattered earlier, watched in wonder as the light continued to climb.

"Rhongomyniad!"

As the light reached the zenith of its trajectory, Artoria spoke the True Name of her lance. Her voice was clear, strong, and full of conviction. As she spoke the name, the light that had traveled skyward began to return, this time heading straight for the invasion force.

The demi-humans realized too late the enormity of their mistake as the light, now transformed into a destructive force, descended upon them.

With a deafening roar, the attack smashed into the ranks of the demi-humans, destroying everything in its path. The ground shook and the air was filled with the screams of the creatures as they were consumed by the light.

Artoria stood at the center of the destruction, her lance still raised, her armor and cloak billowing in the wind. She had unleashed the entirety of her power upon the enemy, and nothing had been able to withstand it.

The invasion force was decimated, their numbers greatly reduced. The survivors, seeing the might of the Grand Servant, retreated in disarray, leaving the battlefield a chaotic scene of destruction and debris.

————————————————————

"It appears that Grand Lancer was successful," Sherlock said, his voice measured and analytical.

'Oh really, I couldn't tell', Isaiah thought to himself, his mind filled with a hint of sarcasm.

To Isaiah, the feeling of the magical pressure emitted from the intense attack of Grand Lancer was a confirmation that he was no longer in his world - his familiar reality.

He could feel the power even from within the confines of the throne room. It was an overwhelming sensation, one that he had never experienced before.

It was clear to him that this was a different world, a different reality, one where magic and mythical creatures existed. He sat on his throne, watching the mirror intently, taking in the realization that he was truly in a new and unknown world.

"Ruler," Isaiah said, addressing his servant formally.

"Yes, my Master," Sherlock responded, giving a slight bow.

Isaiah stood up, his determination clear on his face. "Relay this message to all the Grand Servants," he stated firmly. "They are to meet with me within the Shrine of Azrael. Furthermore, I want Rider's and Caster's people to work in tandem with the Knights of the Round and the Order of Assassins. We must ensure the total security of not just Camelot, but all of Chaldea as well."

Sherlock nodded, understanding his master's instructions. The safety and security of the realm was of the utmost importance, and with the demi-human invasion force having been defeated, it was time to solidify and strengthen their defenses.

The Grand Servants, with their exceptional abilities and powers, would be instrumental in achieving this goal. Isaiah's plans were clear, he wanted to gather all the Grand Servants to discuss and make a strategy to protect Chaldea. The unity and cooperation of all the forces would be necessary if Isaiah is to overcome the challenges that his life has now brought before him.

'Just what exactly have I gotten myself into.'