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Overlord - Chapter 13
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Ainz pushed open the door of the inn where they’d stayed the other day. That instant, the place was swallowed up by perfect silence. Countless eyes were on him and Narberal, but no one got in their way. They stood before the innkeeper.
“Y…ou…”
Both his and the guests’ eyes were all on the plates hanging from their necks.
Ainz made it short and nonchalant. “A room for two.” He smirked. He tossed down the coins and silently took the key from the innkeeper.
Then, they went to their room where Ainz canceled all of his magic and returned to his true form. His mythril plate emitted a bright ring when it clinked his Nemean Lion. Up until just a bit ago, they’d been at the guild being debriefed about the previous day’s incident. They’d been hurriedly awarded the plates there.
It went without saying that the silence in the inn had been caused by the plates. If a guy who arrived just a few days ago as a copper plate came back the next time with a mythril plate, it probably felt like he’d demolished the common sense they’d been building up all their careers. Their raw reactions did give him a sense of superiority, but he was also dissatisfied—because he was expecting they’d skip him all the way to orichalcum and instead he got one below that. How would everyone have reacted if his plate had been orichalcum?
Well, there was still a chance.
There were still only very few people who knew about the incident. And according to what he’d heard during his debriefing, their achievements were unbelievable and were really worthy of adamantite plates. The only reason they hadn’t been given that was because they had no previous accomplishments, and the guild wanted to err on the side of caution, since the investigation was still incomplete.
In other words, internally at the guild they were viewed as adamantite-rank adventurers, of which there were only two teams in the entire kingdom.
He expected that, over time, the story of the fight in the graveyard and the name Momon would be known all over town. The guards who survived would surely talk. Everything was going so according to his plan that he chuckled to himself. It was more than a smooth start—it was perfect.
Ainz pinged his mythril plate with a finger, and then Narberal spoke up, curious. “What are you going to do with those two? You left it that you would contact them later about the reward, right?”
She meant Nfirea and Lizzy, the two apothecaries. Ainz had already made up his mind how to handle them. “Lizzy said she would give me everything, so I’m planning to have her take her grandson and go to Carne. I’ll force them to make potions for me—no, for the Great Tomb of Nazarick.”
“…Nazarick has ways to make potions. Why make those ***** fish do it?”
“What I’m after is new ways to make potions.”
Narberal looked at him vacantly without reacting, so Ainz explained, “The development of ways to create potions that didn’t exist in Yggdrasil is important to work on, keeping in mind that our potion ingredients won’t last forever. And we should probably work on combining techniques from Yggdrasil and this world to create new powers. It’s entirely possible that we’re six hundred years late to the game. Of course, we’ll have to keep a strict watch to make sure no potions they make leave the premises, but…the way they were when I saw them, it probably won’t be an issue.”
Ainz had healed Nfirea’s eyes, but perhaps because the mental strain was too great, the boy was still unconscious. Still, Lizzy was so deeply grateful her grandson was safe that she cried her eyes out and promised to pay the agreed-upon price.
“So I’ll deal with them later. There are other things I need to do first.”
Ainz cast Message to Albedo. Not contacting her despite receiving Entoma’s Message was a pretty big slipup, but he hadn’t had the time; he’d just have to get her to forgive him.
Then the Message connected, and the first thing she said was far beyond anything he’d expected:
“Lord Ainz, Shalltear has staged a rebellion!”
For a time, he couldn’t understand what she’d said to him, but when he finally processed it, he vocalized his stupefaction:
“…What?!”