Valkyrie's Shadow

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 13, Chapter 12

The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 13, Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Hoh…the Royal Army has become so good at waging war that enemy armies just fall over all at once after a bit of fighting.

High above the Azerlisian Arsenal, in the headquarters of the Northern Army Group of the Royal Army of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Ainz Ooal Gown, the Sorcerer King, leaned back in his seat of honour. It was a good thing that he was immune to cold, as the massive throne was carved out of pure ice. Even so, he had to suppress a shudder at the thought of his back touching the frozen surface.

Ainz had been invited by Cocytus to witness the final battle of the Royal Army’s campaign in the Draconic Kingdom, which Ainz had happily accepted. It wasn’t statecraft, macroeconomics, magical theory or any other unfathomably complex thing, but warfare. Ainz was confident he would have at least some understanding of what was going on. He had just returned from a campaign in the Holy Kingdom at the beginning of the month, after all. All of his experiences were fresh and easy to remember…mostly.

While much of what went on was new to the officers of the Royal Army, it wasn’t a surprise to Ainz. It was obvious that the techniques and tactics developed by players in a game that had run for a decade or so would also be developed in a situation where the ‘playerbase’ was an entire world and the systems they used had been in place for unknown centuries.

Of course, that only applied to the tools that they possessed. Since there were very few, if any, high-level individuals around, he wouldn’t expect any of the high-level practices that he was familiar with. When it came to low-level ‘gameplay’, however, the natives of their new world would likely outstrip any player from Yggdrasil. Both the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild and the reports of the Imperial Army’s operations proved this to be the case.

Actually, why is it that the Demihumans seem to not only be stronger, but superior to Humans in combat technique? I heard that hater of a Paladin got pulled back then just like the Death Knights here did.

There was only one thing he either already knew about or thought was obvious in hindsight, which was how the entire Demihuman army just seemed to die all at once. Maybe it would come up in the post-battle discussion.

“Ah…umu. Good work. It seems that everything more or less went as expected. The trap placed to draw any particularly strong forces toward a supposedly vulnerable position was especially clever. You have my compliments on that.”

“Hah!” Cocytus’ characteristically forceful acknowledgement issuing not a metre from the throne nearly caused Ainz to jump, “Ainz-sama. Your praise…honours us.”

The general staff of the Royal Army of the Sorcerous Kingdom settled into their places. After a moment, they began to pore over the results. At a certain point, they brought up the same question Ainz had been harbouring.

“What do you suppose that was at the end, there?” A Frost Giant Captain who went by the name of Gunnar asked.

“I believe that the Beastmen finally recognised the magnitude of affront they presented to the Supreme One and fell dead on the spot out of apology.”

Cocytus’ insect lieutenant spoke with such conviction that Ainz had to exchange a glance with the Frost Giants lined along the balcony.

Yup, I’m not the crazy one here. I guess I’ll have to wait for the reports from the officers on the field…

Thankfully, while most of the natives in the region practised some form of religion, the gods that they worshipped were less like the monotheistic religions still lingering on Earth that asserted that they followed some omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent god, and more like the deities of the various ancient mythologies that Yggdrasil heavily drew from for inspiration.

As such, gods in the New World were more like folk heroes or some aspect of nature. They were limited in power, fallible, and had their respective interests and preferences as any regular person did. Some even had children with their followers, leaving lineages renowned for their ‘divine blood’.

Ainz thought he could live with that, especially since he did indeed fit the description. Most of the Demihumans that had come under his reign offered their tributes and petitioned him for provision and protection against tangible problems which were well within Nazarick’s capabilities to handle. They didn’t expect the impossible or assume that he was possessed of unfathomable wisdom and intellect as Nazarick’s denizens did.

His gaze went back to the insect lieutenant, who was standing behind a stone table beside two others. If the Royal Army’s leadership was always like this, the officers recruited out of the citizenry had an admirable amount of restraint and incredible poker faces. Not a single one of them twitched an eyebrow at the proposed explanation, but he was certain that they didn’t believe a word of it.

He cleared his nonexistent throat, curious over what the gathered personnel had drawn from the conflict. Cocytus and his lieutenants must surely have come a long way from two years ago when they were tasked with attacking the Lizardmen.

“Now,” Ainz placed his hands on the armrests of his throne, “I take it that this has been a valuable learning opportunity for everyone involved.”

“Hah!” Cocytus straightened where he stood to Ainz’s right, “Ainz-sama: for your approval, you have our utmost gratitude.”

Did I approve something like this?

Albedo had kept him updated on Countess Corelyn’s preparations and plans to expand the Sorcerous Kingdom’s influence southeast in a way that promoted its benevolent foreign policy and would bring many economic benefits, which he had readily agreed to. The fact that the Draconic Kingdom had been occupied came to his attention – at least he thought it did – somewhere around or after the end of his time in the Holy Kingdom of Roble. He couldn’t remember the exact details or that anyone had even asked him about it, but if the Royal Army was there, he must have agreed to its deployment.

“There’s no need,” Ainz raised his bony palm outward in a stately gesture. “Only a fool would let a golden opportunity like this pass them by, and I presume that none here are such fools. I would hear your thoughts on this campaign and any proposals you have on improvement based on your experiences.”

One of Cocytus’ lieutenants – the insectoid who looked like a brown brain – rose from his seat. Or maybe it was lowered. It was so short that sitting on its chair made it seem taller.

“If I may speak, oh Supreme One…”

Ainz inclined his head.

“While rare,” the brain lieutenant said, “the existence of outliers with power beyond that of what the locals call ‘Heroes’ presents an undeniable obstacle to the Royal Army’s rank-and-file. Dispatching an esteemed personage such as Lord Sebas is hardly appropriate for every operation, never mind how Ainz-sama personally made an appearance in the Holy Kingdom.”

Oi, stop trying to trap me behind a desk.

He believed he knew where they were coming from, but the notion was depressing. Even CEOs went on business trips and such, didn’t they? The type of ‘appearance’ that Nazarick’s denizens thought appropriate for Ainz to make for state business was the exact type of appearance that he strove to avoid.

As they often asserted, ‘dirtying his hands’ by personally participating in battle was beneath him. Going around incognito as he did not long after their arrival was unthinkable. The Supreme Overlord, Ainz Ooal Gown deserved nothing less than to attend the highest-profile functions to be the centrepiece of all attention and discussion, filling everyone with awe at his wisdom, majesty and power. Or something like that.

Of course, they wouldn’t stop him if he did do the things that he wanted to, but that in itself made him feel guilty if he couldn’t justify his actions.

“And how do you propose we address this issue?” Ainz asked.

“Mercenaries, perhaps…”

“No, Mercenaries are not an option–”

“But we can hardly use–”

“Then how about…”

A lively debate erupted between Cocytus' lieutenants. While Ainz was pleased that they were exercising independent thought, they were all independently thinking in the same direction.

Always power, huh…

They had gone from standing in mute shock over their defeat at the hands of the Lizardmen to being able to recognise key issues and discuss them. That in itself was good, but the solutions that they presented were still lacking.

If a hammer wasn’t enough, then they reached for a bigger hammer. It was most certainly within Nazarick’s capabilities, but those capabilities had been sealed away for the vast majority of the Royal Army’s exercise. Generally speaking, the Royal Army was meant to be exactly what it sounded like: the Royal Army of the Sorcerous Kingdom. It was not the Army of Nazarick – it was the army of the state that they had founded and was composed of the forces made available to it in everyday operations.

Since his return from the Holy Kingdom, Ainz followed the campaign through the Royal Army’s reports and occasionally dropped in to see how things were going, so he knew that many valuable lessons had been presented. If the Royal Army’s only takeaway was that they needed more raw power, he would be disappointed indeed.

The points of his eyes shifted in the direction of a Goblin sitting at a table with several other Goblins. He was dressed in archaic fashion, resembling a strategist from Earth’s distant past. If clothes made the man, then certainly he would have some useful insight…

“You seem like you have something you wish to say,” Ainz gestured at the Goblin. “Please do not hesitate to share on my account. I would like for everyone to participate in this discussion.”

The Goblin rose from his seat, bowing low.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He straightened again, holding his feather fan up to cover his mouth.

“Simply put,” the Goblin said, “we lack unit cohesion.”

“Unit cohesion…” Ainz stroked his chin, “as in teamwork?”

“Indeed,” the fan started to wave back and forth lightly. “The strength of an army lies not in the strength of its individual soldiers, but in what they can achieve as a whole. The deployed squads did not operate as soldiers – they are simply groups of individuals that act as individuals once the fighting begins in earnest.”

“I agree,” a trickle of powder streamed from the ceiling at Gunnar’s rumbling voice. “One could say that each squad is like a collection of champions, but only in the sense that they each possess the strength of a champion. Watching them fight is like watching a handful of Berserkers going wild on the battlefield. The only time they fight as a unit is when the Commanders are paying particular attention to their squads, but that is something that the sergeants are supposed to be responsible for. This squanders both the time and talent of our officers. They should be commanding, not herding a bunch of Sigurds.”

“Hey!”

The Frost Giant beside the speaker shot him a hurt look. Chuckles rose from the assembled staff.

“I mean no disrespect to our troops who fought in the Draconic Kingdom,” the Goblin with the fan said, “but I believe they are auxiliary forces meant for domestic policing duties? The soldiers of the Northern Army Group would not commit the same errors. While our forces in the Draconic Kingdom may have overpowered the Beastmen, it pains me to say that the Beastmen fought better. Both their soldiers and officers were superior in terms of discipline and technique. On both a professional and…hmm, I suppose Captain Zahradnik would say a ‘political level’, this is entirely unacceptable.”

While he hadn’t been able to put it in words, what the Goblin said was in line with what Ainz felt. In Yggdrasil, if one was bested by another player, how one took the loss depended on the circumstances. If there was a level gap, one would grind to close the gap. The same thing would apply to equipment. Problems with a build would be identified and corrected. If an opponent was too strong to solo, they would bring in others to help.

Some of the aforementioned things were much more difficult to achieve in their new world, but the stakes were also much higher. It was reality, after all. One couldn’t log off in frustration and do something else, nor could one easily go elsewhere because others occupied that space.

“You are exactly right,” Ainz folded his hands before him and leaned forward. “The Sorcerous Kingdom must be superior to all others on every level. Those who wish to fight will find reasons to do so, and they will do so according to their advantages, not ours. If they cannot match us in a direct confrontation, then they will find other means. If we cannot prove that we are capable of matching them in every arena, we will have troublemakers believing that they can get away with their schemes whenever our backs are turned. Albedo already understands this and has been working hard to make the civilian end of things watertight. I expect no less of the Royal Army.”

It was already abundantly clear that they could command fear. Now, they needed to command respect. In the past, he believed it better to be feared than respected, but time and experience revealed the limits of fear and how it could lead to undesirable outcomes. Instilling too much of it made it hard to switch gears after the fact.

“Does anyone else have any insights to share?” Ainz asked.

“Hah!” Cocytus answered with a blast of frigid air, “In the future…intervention in crises, expedient. Those in need, we should seek. To lend our strength.”

“Umu,” Ainz nodded. “It does indeed seem that way. Even the Holy Kingdom was amenable to our assistance once Jaldabaoth made his move.”

“About that…”

Cocytus paused, then seemed to collect himself.

“Unnecessary. Demiurge’s intellect, I respect, but this world…filled with strife. Many would welcome help. Fabricating crises…dishonourable. The warrior’s way, it is not.”

So he did feel that way…

Ainz had wondered about it since Demiurge outlined his plans for the Holy Kingdom, but, whenever one of the three great minds of Nazarick cooked something up, challenges were next to nonexistent. Everyone assumed that their proposals were the best possible avenue for Nazarick to take, and service to the Supreme Beings superseded any notion of personal honour.

Personally, Ainz didn’t care too much about personal honour, but it was still a point to consider. Schemes that blew up tended to do so in the most unpleasant of ways, and a tarnished reputation was insanely difficult to repair. A single bit of bad press could foil the efforts of an entire marketing campaign, and even the megacorporations back on earth had to burn unimaginable amounts of money and man-hours performing damage control for a single minor incident.

The Sorcerous Kingdom already had a tremendous handicap due to its association with the Undead. Being perceived as a ‘bastion of evil’ made outsiders more than willing to believe that they were guilty of any wrongdoing pinned on them. Upon his arrival in Roble, he had been unpleasantly surprised to overhear the various rumours that had drifted through Re-Estize about E-Rantel being turned into a literal hell.

“What you say holds merit,” Ainz said, “but it would require that we expand our intelligence network. We’ll see how things are going in a few years once we’re done with Re-Estize. And, even if we do decide to embark upon the route that you suggest, I won’t suspend any operations in progress without good reason. Also, we may deem it necessary for specific circumstances in the future. I will not deny the Sorcerous Kingdom a powerful tool by dismissing the option out of hand.”

That would probably give everyone enough room to work with. Demiurge likely already had several plots in progress and Ainz didn't want to step on any toes. The goings-on in Re-Estize were also part of an engineered crisis fomented by a group of local collaborators.

The scenery in the Mirror of Remote Viewing shifted around as Entoma scanned over the Royal Army’s advancing forces. Most of what they saw consisted of the Undead checking through the remains of the Beastman Army, poking at corpses and investigating the content of their camps.

Speaking of corpses, there’s something I should check on…

Ainz rose from his seat.

“Now then,” he said. “I understand that there is much more to say on what you’ve learned here, but an informal discussion will hardly do everything justice. I look forward to seeing your thoughts and proposals on paper.”

He summoned Shalltear to his side with a regal gesture and stepped into the Gate that she summoned. The orange glare of sunset warmed his robe the moment he appeared in front of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Corpses from the battle were already arriving through another Gate summoned by Pestonya. Solution – who was currently the maid on entrance duties – bowed low before him.

“Welcome back, Ainz-sama.”

“Umu. I’m back.”

Solution fell into step behind them as they entered the front cabin. After passing through the teleportation gate, Shalltear spoke.

“My most sincere apologies, Ainz-sama,” she said.

“Hm? What for?”

“My vassal failed to accomplish her task.”

A petite frown crossed Shalltear’s doll-like face. Her distraught expression drew a chuckle out of him.

“Could it be that you feel that our victory has been marred in some fashion?”

“H-how else could I feel?!” Shalltear pouted, “Ludmila did so well in the Empire, so I thought it would be the same in the Draconic Kingdom. And then she went and died in the final battle. As the Floor Guardian responsible for her, I am filled with shame at her failure.”

Observing Baroness Zahradnik was an awkward process. Since she had a Ring of Nondetection, they could only tell where she was by following the Elder Lich assigned as her adjutant. When she left the adjutant behind, they had to follow the troops she was leading. If she fought, the scene in the Mirror of Remote Viewing was somewhat comical as Beastmen just seemed to fall apart on their own. Her death was second-hand information from aerial observers.

Annoyingly, the Beastmen that had killed her were also employing a Nondetection effect or something similar enough to it. In all, the experience was reminiscent of the early days of Yggdrasil, when no one had a solid grasp of information warfare yet and trying to remotely keep track of people was very much hit-and-miss.

That being said, just because they couldn’t see her didn’t mean that she wasn’t doing her job. Nor was the fact that she died.

“Did she?” Ainz said as they strolled through the catacombs of the First Floor, where Elder Liches were performing last-minute security checks on the delivered bodies before they were sent into cold storage. “As I recall, her role was rather limited. That aside, she did not disobey any of the general staff’s orders, nor did she abandon her post. This was the Royal Army’s exercise and she was merely an officer on the field fulfilling her duties. Furthermore, her counterattack against the enemy’s pull tactic was as good as one can ask for in the situation that the army found itself in and she never gave up trying to rally her shattered forces.”

“Mmh…”

Shalltear’s brow creased in thought. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t empathise. As the senior officer on the field, Baroness Zahradnik had accomplished her tasks with little room for complaint. Getting sideswiped on the home stretch was understandably frustrating.

He considered his own experiences in the Holy Kingdom of Roble, thinking about the country’s resistance efforts and the many challenges they faced.

“These two conflicts we’ve participated in recently,” Ainz stared up at the catacombs’ ceiling. “Do you know what I found the most striking about them?”

“What would that be, Ainz-sama?”

“The scale,” Ainz replied. “The sheer vastness and complexity of everything. All of the rules we are accustomed to take on brand new meanings as a result and the realities of this world were made all too evident.”

At the Battle of Katze Plains, Ainz thought he had a good idea of what war was like in their new world. But, now, he knew that he was sorely mistaken. The Battle of Katze Plains was more of a formal challenge where two sides agreed to an honourable contest following rules that everyone respected. If he were to be honest with himself, he had broken those rules in his ignorance over them by doing what he did, but what was done was done.

The conflicts in the Holy Kingdom and the Draconic Kingdom, however, weren’t anything like that. Combatants exploited every conceivable advantage and attacked every discernible weakness. Unfair only meant ‘do it more’. No one stood around waiting to get swatted by something far more powerful if they could help it. It was a dirty, chaotic business where everything was allowed and there was a real cost incurred for every action.

Theatres of battle could cover hundreds of thousands of square kilometres; millions, if multiple countries were involved. Managing everything required supernatural capabilities, and he figured that this was where Commander Classes fit into the grand scheme of things.

When he saw the ‘encirclement’ of Eastwatch by a mere twenty infantry squads, he couldn’t help but think that the encirclement was ninety-nine-point-nine per cent holes. Yet they managed it, and it was likely due to Baroness Zahradnik’s expertise in manipulating perception and leading her opponents along the lines of thought she desired of them. When Demiurge made his opening move against the Holy Kingdom, he made sure to eliminate every General and their officers. Once that happened, all the Northern Holy Kingdom’s resistance forces could do was flail about in laughably naïve ways until Ainz arrived to perform his part of Demiurge’s script.

“As a Floor Guardian,” he said, “you defend these narrow corridors, yet the total area of all three of your floors combined is but a fraction of the area managed by a single farming village. We all fought in these circumstances. Even fighting in Yggdrasil’s outdoor areas can’t be compared. Wars between guilds might involve hundreds of players, but the wars here sweep up millions. A Fireball, if well-placed, could damage half of an invading guild. Here, it might open a hole in a formation and kill an insignificant number of soldiers as far as an army’s total numbers are concerned. The scope of things is so huge that losses for every side are inevitable.”

Shalltear tilted her head back and forth as he spoke, her expression of thought deepening even further.

“Is that one of the reasons why Ainz-sama founded the Royal Army, arinsu?” She asked, “And why Demiurge invaded the Holy Kingdom the way that he did?”

“Indeed,” Ainz nodded. “How many fiends do you think Demiurge lost during that entire venture? A handful of Mercenaries were sacrificed as well, and the data used for those is lost to us forever. The Royal Army, on the other hand, is ‘sustainable’. It deploys assets that are cheap to maintain and easy to replace or recover. Come to think of it, as the Guardian of the First, Second and Third Floors, shouldn’t you already think like this?”

“Th-think like what, Ainz-sama?”

“Well, anyone invading Nazarick comes through your Floors first, right? It happened all the time. Players come in and poke around here and there or see how far they can get. We always drove them away, but not before they destroyed many of your vassals. You’ve likened Baroness Zahradnik to an Area Guardian in the past. If one of your Area Guardians was destroyed, would it be something to be ashamed of or infuriated over?”

“Of course not! We are all proud to die in the defence of the Supreme Beings’ abode! Actually, if there’s one thing that Kyouhukou is displeased about, it’s the fact that he’s died far fewer times than the others…”

The reason that Kyouhukou died far fewer times than the others – he died fewer times than Shalltear, even – was that players did their best to avoid him if they could help it. Ainz wasn’t sure whether he would console him over his ‘low score’ or the fact that he was a giant cockroach.

“…so you mean to say that I should be proud of her dying, arinsu?” Shalltear asked, “Should I tell her to be happy about it as well?”

“Ah, ehm…maybe? It’s not something to be ashamed of, at least. She fulfilled her duties even in the face of death. Speaking of which…”

They stepped into the next teleportation gate, which was configured to send the inspected corpses to the Fifth Floor. The Frost Virgin guarding the landing lowered her head respectfully.

“Welcome, Ainz-sama. How may I be of assistance?”

“We’re here for Baroness Zahradnik’s corpse,” Ainz said. “It should have arrived by now.”

“This way, please.”

Ainz followed the Frost Virgin through the towering rows of bodies in frozen storage. He came by once to expend his daily limit of Undead creation Skills, but they were usually brought to the teleportation gate to save time. With the Frost Virgin leading them through the area like some warehouse staff member, he felt like he was back at his old job…except instead of checking on shipments of merchandise, he was dealing with bodies.

Corpses are something like a commodity here…I think?

Over a third of his citizens would happily eat the inventory that they were strolling by. Considering the attitudes of the various Demihumans he had interacted with, butcher shops around the world might have meat lockers filled with dead people and no one would think it strange.

They arrived at a portion of the Fifth Floor that was less warehouse-like in appearance. Here, corpses of particular note or potentially high value were stored. Through the blowing snow, a silhouette appeared. It resolved into the figure of Pestonya as they got closer. Nazarick’s Head Maid – or housekeeper, as the locals called them – stood with her hands held palm out before her. On the snow was…

Ah–

“Wai–!”

“?True Resurrection?!”

Too late.

Pestonya’s spell washed over Baroness Zahradnik’s body. The Head Maid turned to regard them, lowering her head respectfully.

“Ainz-sama. It’s so wonderful to see you, as always. Wan. Has something brought you to this part of the Fifth Floor? Wan.”

Her gaze followed his to the corpse on the snow beside her.

“Oh, my. Have I done something I shouldn’t have? Since she fell in the line of duty, I figured it was appropriate to…”

“Ah, no,” Ainz said. “It’s fine. We haven’t come to punish her or anything like that. We’re here for…an experiment? Yes, an experiment.”

He wasn’t sure what to call it. Since the Baroness was a Revenant, he figured that she would come back from the dead on her own and rushed over to see if it would happen. In Yggdrasil, the time varied depending on what sort of content the Revenant was a part of, but the ones that players encountered in outdoor camps could get back up in less than thirty seconds and endlessly pester whoever killed them.

Beside him, Shalltear gazed down at the Baroness’ body with glistening eyes. A rosy flush rose on her cheeks and she licked her lips.

Dammit Peroroncino, why did you have to include that fetish?!

‘Because she’s Undead, obviously’ was probably the answer. His friend’s perverse ‘logic’ always caused no end of problems.

“…I see,” Pestonya said.

No, you don’t! Also, you forgot your ‘wan’.

As far as he knew, only a handful of people were aware of Baroness Zahradnik’s true nature. It seemed like a sensitive topic for her and revealing the truth might cause widespread panic over Humans being transformed into Undead, so Ainz figured it was fine to keep things the way they were.

Shalltear walked toward the Baroness’ corpse, her black ballroom gown collecting bits of blowing snow. She leaned forward with a curious look.

“She didn’t resurrect,” Shalltear noted.

“Yes,” Pestonya rested her cheek in a gloved hand, “the spell had no effect. Was that part of your experiment, Ainz-sama? Wan.”

“One could say that it counts as an observation…”

“Is that so? In that case, I shan’t disturb you. Please forgive your humble servant for her meddling. Wan.”

Pestonya curtsied before gathering her skirts to walk in the direction of the teleportation gate. Ainz’s attention turned back to Baroness Zahradnik’s corpse.

So the resurrection had no effect…not as in ‘rejected’ but ‘immune’? Did someone tamper with the corpse before Sebas got to it? But Pestonya used True Resurrection. Even True Death doesn’t block that…

Had the natives of this world developed some extremely nasty form of resurrection prevention? Something like that couldn’t exist in Yggdrasil for balance purposes, but there were no developers here telling the magic researchers of this world what they weren’t allowed to do.

No, maybe that’s too much. Martial Arts are one thing, but Tier Magic is Tier Magic. Even if they develop new spells, they should be limited by the power of the tiers that the spells are in. The Beastmen didn’t have any powerful casters…what if it was a Skill or Ability?

That was probably the most unsettling aspect of their new world. The natives seemed to endlessly develop new things. There was no guarantee that those developments wouldn’t pose a threat to Nazarick, so trying to figure out how the systems of the world worked and what their limitations were was one of Nazarick’s greatest priorities. Mare, Pandora’s Actor, and several others were tasked with finding out as much as they could, but progress was slow due to the general ignorance and the low levels of the local population.

The sound of a scratching pen filled the air as Shalltear added to her notes in Peroroncino’s Encyclopaedia. She was as diligent as always when it came to the things that she cared about.

“Do you have any ideas, Shalltear?” Ainz asked.

“Maybe she’ll get up when she feels like it,” Shalltear answered. “I can’t imagine her staying down for very long.”

Hopefully, that was all there was to it.