Note: Upgrade your browser if you can't see the images.
Overlord - Chapter 21
You are reading Overlord Chapter 21 at mangacake.
Please use the Bookmark button to get notifications about the latest chapters of Overlord next time when you come visit our manga website
1
The Great Tove Woodlands stretched across the southern foothills of the Azerlisia Mountains, which served as a natural border between the Baharuth Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom. North of the forest was a huge lake. This body of water was shaped like an inverted calabash, split into an upper and a lower lake, with a diameter of about twenty-four miles. The deeper upper lake was home to larger creatures, while in the lower portion dwelled smaller life-forms.
Where the lower lake merged with wetlands to the south, numerous buildings stood in the everglade. Each one had a foundation of about ten stilts set into the marsh. It was the type of structure people often built to live over water.
The door to one of those buildings opened, and the master of the house came out into the sunlight. He was a type of creature known as a lizardman.
Lizardmen resembled a cross between a reptile and a human. More specifically, they were lizards that had hands and feet like humans and walked on two legs, though their heads had almost no human features.
Most classified these creatures as subhumans, similar to goblins and orcs, and their civilization was less advanced than humans’. Though their way of life was often considered barbaric, they still had their own culture, even if an unrefined one.
The average height of an adult male lizardman was about six foot three, and their weight was easily over two hundred and twenty pounds—not from fat but because they boasted fairly robust physiques with bulging muscles. To help keep them balanced, they had long reptilian tails growing from their lower backs.
Over the course of their evolution geared toward ease of movement in the wetlands, they had developed broad webbed feet. That did give them a little trouble moving around on land, but this was not a problem for their everyday lives. Their scales, which ranged in color from a dark green to gray or even black, were not like lizards’ but hornier like alligators’. They were harder than the weakest armors of humans.
Their hands had five fingers like human hands, though their fingers ended in short claws. The weapons they wielded with those hands were extremely primitive. Since they didn’t have many opportunities to acquire metal ore in the marsh, most of the weapons they used were spears made with monster fangs or claws, or blunt stone weapons.
The sky was a single clear shade of blue, and the sun shone brilliantly near its zenith. The weather was nice, with only a wisp of white clouds like the brushstrokes of a painter over a clear view of the mountains thrusting up in the distance.
Because lizardmen had such a wide field of vision, he—Zaryusu Shasha—could see the blinding sun without moving his head. Narrowing his eyes to vertical slits, he rhythmically descended the stoop.
He scratched the brand on his black-scaled chest. The mark indicated his position within his tribe.
The lizardmen tribes had created an organized caste society. At the top was the tribal chief. Their leaders were not selected based on bloodline but simply by who was the strongest. The ceremony to choose the chief was held every few years. Then came the council of elders made up of selected seniors. Beneath them, society consisted of the warrior caste, then the normal males, the females, and the children.
Of course, there were those who did not fit into this hierarchy. First, there were the druid priests. They supported the tribe by predicting the weather, forecasting danger, and using healing magic.
There were also hunting parties made up of rangers. Their primary role was fishing and hunting, but since the regular lizardmen cooperated with them on that, their most important work was in the forest.
Lizardmen were basically omnivorous, but fish made up 80 percent of their diet, and they didn’t eat many plants or fruit. The reason they still sent hunting parties into the woods was mainly lumber. Since land wasn’t safe for lizardmen, simply venturing into the woods to cut trees was a job for technical experts.
These rangers were allowed a degree of autonomy in the field, but they were still under the chief and expected to follow his orders. In this way, lizardman society was a patriarchy with strict role division. But there were some exceptions, beings completely outside the chief’s command.
Travelers.
The word traveler might bring to mind outsiders, but visiting foreigners were unheard of. Lizardman society was generally isolationist, so accepting anyone from outside the tribe was rare.
So then, who were these travelers?
They were lizardmen who wished to see the world.
Barring some kind of emergency, such as being unable to obtain food, these creatures would virtually never leave their birthplace. But a few rare exceptions longed to see the outside world.
When travelers decided to leave their tribe, they were branded with a special mark on their chests. It signified that they were no longer under the tribe and its authority.
Most of those who set out into the world never came back. Perhaps they perished wherever they ended up, or they found a new life for themselves. Their fates were never certain. But sure enough, every so often, they concluded their journeys and went home.
Returning travelers were valuable for the knowledge they brought back with them. They were outsiders when it came to the tribal hierarchy but gained respect in a different way.
Truth be told, there were those in the village who disliked Zaryusu, but in general, he was well regarded. Not just because he was a traveler, but because…
He stepped off the last stair into the marsh; the trusty weapon slung at his waist clinked against his scales. The pale blade glowed faintly. It had a strange shape, where the blade and grip united into something like a three-pronged club. But past the handle, the blade tapered to points only about as thick as a piece of parchment.
There was not a lizardman alive who didn’t know this weapon. All the members of every tribe recognized the magic items known as the Four Great Treasures, and Zaryusu’s sword was the one named Frost Pain.
That famous weapon was the reason for Zaryusu’s renown.
He set off at a casual pace.
He had two destinations, and he made sure to take a gift to leave at one of them. His presents were four huge fish—each over three feet long. These were the staple food for his people, and he carried them on his back. The fishy smell didn’t bother Zaryusu. On the contrary, it made him extremely hungry.
I wanna just eat them. He snorted a couple of times to clear his mind and splish-splashed his way into the Green Claw village.
Some children with still-vibrant green scales ran past him, laughing “shaa-shaa,” but stopped in their tracks when they noticed his cargo. The growing children peeping out from the shade of their dwellings also focused on him—
no, on the fish. Their mouths were slightly open, probably filled with drool. Even after he had moved on, their gazes followed him—the children wanted a snack.
He cracked a smile and walked on, pretending not to notice them. He’d already decided who these fish were for. Unfortunately for those kids, it wasn’t them.
Zaryusu was happy that the glint in their eyes wasn’t hunger, though. A few years ago, that would have been impossible.
With those yearning eyes on his back, he passed the houses standing here and there, and the hut he was aiming for came into view.
This was the edge of the village, and a little farther ahead was where the marsh began to deepen into more of a lake. The hut on this subtle boundary line was sturdier than it looked and bigger than Zaryusu’s house. If there was anything strange about it, it was definitely the structure’s slight tilt. Half the house was underwater, but this wasn’t due to decay—it had been intentionally built that way.
Zaryusu approached the hut, making loud sploosh-sploosh noises in the water. When he’d gotten closer, he heard an affection-seeking cry from inside, perhaps because the smell of the fish had wafted over.
A snakelike head poked out of one of the building’s openings. Once the dark-brown-scaled, amber-eyed head confirmed it was Zaryusu, it stretched its neck out to wrap itself affectionately around him.
“There, there.” Zaryusu pet the snake with a practiced hand. The snake smiled at the sensation, narrowing its eyes—it had eyelids besides the protective coating over its eyeballs. The snake’s scales felt nice against Zaryusu’s hand, too.
This creature was Zaryusu’s pet. His name was Rororo.
Since Zaryusu had been taking care of Rororo for most of the pet’s life, he felt they could even have conversations. “Rororo, I brought you some food! Eat up, okay?” He tossed through the window the fish he brought. A noise like a splash, or maybe a splat, sounded from inside. “I’d like to stay and play, but I have to go check on the fish. See you later.”
As if he could understand what was being said, the snake rubbed against Zaryusu a couple of times, reluctant to let him go, and then withdrew into the hut. After that came the sound of clutching and chewing. Figuring from Rororo’s enthusiasm that he was in good shape, Zaryusu left the hut.
Zaryusu’s next objective was also a bit removed from the village, at the lakeshore. He pattered quietly through the forest with quiet pleck-pleck sounds. Traveling by water would have been faster, but it had become a habit of his during his walks to see if there were any problems on land. Still, the low visibility thanks to the trees was a strain on even Zaryusu’s mind.
Eventually, though, his destination was visible through a gap in the woods. He sighed with relief that nothing had happened. Then, slipping through the trees, he closed the rest of the distance with quick steps.
After ducking under the last of the jutting branches, Zaryusu widened his eyes in surprise—he never imagined he would see that familiar figure here. It was a lizardman with black scales like his own.
“Brother—”
“Oh, it’s you.” The black-scaled lizardman turned around and focused his eyes on Zaryusu to greet him.
This was the chief of the Green Claw tribe and Zaryusu’s elder brother, Shasuryu Shasha. He had been victorious in two contests to decide who would be chief and maintained rule for the current term without needing to fight. The most distinct feature of this lizardman was his physique. Next to him, Zaryusu, with his average build, looked small. Old scars ran white across Shasuryu’s black scales, like lightning bolts tearing through a dark cloud. He carried a huge sword on his back—a thick, rugged thing about six and a half feet long. The steel sword—proof that he was chief—was enchanted with magic that prevented rust and made it sharper.
Zaryusu stood next to his brother on the lakeshore.
“What are you doing in a place like this?”
“I could ask you the same thing, brother. The chief doesn’t need to bother coming all the way out here.”
“Mph.” At a loss for words, Shasuryu answered with his characteristic grunt and looked out toward the lake.
Sturdy poles jutted out of the water to surround the area, with extremely fine nets strung between the poles. The setup was immediately recognizable—a fish preserve.
“You didn’t come to sneak a bite, did you?”
Shasuryu’s tail jumped and slapped the ground a couple of times. “Mph. I wouldn’t do that. I just came to see how the breeding is going.”
“…”
“Zaryusu, do you really think of me that way?!” he said with force and loomed a step closer. The pressure he gave off was like a wall closing in, making it so even the traveler and veteran fighter Zaryusu felt the need to back up a couple of steps.
But he had the perfect comeback. “So, if you only came to look in on the breeding, then I guess you don’t want any, huh? That’s too bad, brother. If they were growing well, I was going to give you some.”
“Mph.” The slapping noise stopped and Shasuryu’s tail drooped.
“They’re real tasty. Nice and fat because they’ve been getting proper nutrition. They have more fat on them than the normal fish you can catch.”
“Oh?”
“When you bite into them that quality fat just oozes out. And when you tear a piece off, it melts in your mouth.”
“Mmmmph.” The slapping started up again, but more intensely than before.
Zaryusu eyed his brother’s excited appendage and said half-teasingly, “Your wife says your heart’s in your tail.”
“What? How dare she mock her husband. Besides, what does she mean by that, anyway?” he answered, looking over his shoulder at his now motionless tail.
Zaryusu wasn’t sure how to respond, and a dry “ahh” was all he could muster.
“Sheesh. She’s so… If you got hitched, you’d know how I feel.”
“Oh, I can’t get married.”
“Ha. Nonsense. You mean because of that mark? It doesn’t matter what the elders say—you can just ignore them. Plus, I don’t think there’s a single female in the village who would hate getting propositioned by you… They’ll take anyone with a good tail.”
Lizardmen stored nutrition in their tails, so larger ones were appealing to the opposite sex. In the past, Zaryusu might have preferred thick-tailed females, but as a male who had grown up and seen the world, he’d rather avoid them now if he could.
“I’m not that into the fat-tailed females in the village now. If it came to it, I’d choose a skinnier one. Personally, your wife’s size is fine for me.”
“That may be, given your personality, but stay away from the taken ones. I’m not participating in any pointless bloodshed. Hmm, but you should know the pain of marriage. It’s not fair if I’m the only one.”
“Whoa, whoa. I’m gonna tell your wife.”
“Mph. There you go—this is one of the pains of being married. I’m the chief of the tribe and your elder brother, but you can blackmail me so easily.”
Their happy laughter echoed out over the lake for a few moments.
When it stopped, Shasuryu observed the fish preserve with some emotion. “This is really something, though. Your…”
When he couldn’t find the word, Zaryusu gave him a hand. “Preserve?”
“Yeah, that. No one has ever done something like this in our tribe before. And news of your success has already spread far and wide. At this rate, all the people watching, envious of your fish, will start to imitate you.”
“It’s thanks to you, brother. I know you talked to everyone about it.”
“Zaryusu, all I did was relay the truth. I just chatted with them. What’s significant is that you worked hard and raised these delicious-looking fish here.”
At first, the project met failure after failure. Of course it had. He’d just heard explanations on his travels and tried to build it based on those. Even building the fence was a string of failures. After a year of trial and error, the preserve was built, but that wasn’t the end.
He had to take care of the fish. He had to feed them. How many times had the fish died on him as he threw in different foods to test what would be best? There were times monsters ripped through the enclosure nets and made all his hard work for nothing.
He was criticized for “playing” with fish caught as food. People had even called him stupid. But now the fruits of his labor were plain to see.
The shadow of a big fish swimming by floated below the surface of the lake. It was fairly big, even for the fish that could be caught in the area. No one would believe he’d raised it from a fry, except for his brother and sister-in-law.
“It’s really something, Zaryusu,” Shasuryu murmured again as they stood watching the scene together. His words were filled with emotion.
Zaryusu’s words were just as heartfelt. “It’s part thanks to you, brother.”
“Mph. What did I even do?”
Sure, Shasuryu hadn’t done anything, but in only the most technical sense.
When the fish weren’t doing well, a priest would suddenly appear. When it was time to gather fence-making materials, there were helping hands. When the catch of the day was distributed, healthy, live fish came his way. There were also hunters who brought fruit as fish food.
It was never revealed who had asked for these people to help him. But even a total fool could tell who was behind it—and that he didn’t feel like being named. It wouldn’t look good for the chief to support a traveler who had deviated from the tribe’s caste system.
“Brother, when they get bigger, I’ll bring some to you first.”
“Heh. I’ll be looking forward to it.” Shasuryu spun on his heel and began walking away. Then he murmured, “Sorry.”
“…What are you talking about, brother? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Did he hear him or not? Zaryusu watched as Shasuryu headed into the distance along the edge of the lake without a word.
After confirming everything was all right at the fish preserve, Zaryusu had returned to the village, but he suddenly felt something strange and looked at the sky. It was just a normal sky, an endless stretch of blue with the mountains breaking through a wisp of cloud to the north.
The usual scenery.
Nothing seemed different. Just as he figured his mind was playing tricks on him, he noticed a strange cloud.
Everyone in the center of the village noticed it at the same time—a solitary dark mass blocking the sun, thick and heavy like a rain cloud.
The priests had said today would be clear all day. Their weather forecasts were magical and, thanks to their knowledge from long years of experience, extremely accurate. Everyone was surprised they’d gotten it wrong.
But the odd thing was that aside from the single dark cloud over the village, there were no other rain clouds. It was as if someone had summoned a cloud to hang directly and over only the village.
Then things got stranger.
Swirling around the center of the village, the mysterious cloud started to spread out. It encroached on the blue sky with tremendous speed.
This was abnormal.
The warrior caste hurriedly went on guard. Children practically dove into their houses. Zaryusu lowered his center of gravity and reached for Frost Pain as he scanned the area.
The darkness blocked out almost the entire sky now. It was possible to see some blue far in the distance, so the cloud was truly hanging over the village. In the midst of this, the center of the settlement was in turmoil. The wind from that direction carried shrill, abrasive cries that made full use of the lizardman vocal cords.
The din was a warning. It meant there was a dangerous threat nearby, perhaps one that warranted evacuation.
When Zaryusu heard it, he raced through the marsh faster than most lizardmen could manage.
He ran, and ran, and ran.
It wasn’t easy to move in the marsh, but he kept his balance by twisting his tail. At a speed impossible for a human—although, of course, lizardmen had feet geared for places like this—Zaryusu arrived at the source of the alarm.
There, he found Shasuryu and the warriors in a circle, focused on the center of the village. Zaryusu followed their line of sight and glared at the object of their attention as well.
At the place where their many gazes crossed was a monster like wavering black fog. Inside the fog, a multitude of horrifying faces formed and dissipated a moment later. The variety of creatures and peoples had one thing in common: All their expressions spoke of eternal pain. Anguished sobs, resentful voices, tortured screams, dying gasps, and more formed a chorus that rode on the wind.
A spine-freezing hatred pressed in on them, and the horror of it caused Zaryusu to shiver. This is bad… Brother and I should let the others go and take care of it ourselves. But… This was a powerful undead that could frighten even Zaryusu, considered a top-class warrior among the other tribes dotting the area. Zaryusu and his brother were probably the only ones who could put up a fight. What’s more, Zaryusu knew the monster’s special ability.
He glanced around and noted that although there were only warrior-caste lizardmen present, almost all of them were breathing hard—like frightened children.
The monster didn’t budge from its position in the center of the village.
How much time passed that way? The tension was so thick, even the slightest trigger would cause an explosion. It was evident from the way the warriors slowly huddled closer together. In order to even move, they had to desperately struggle against the mental pressure.
Noticing Shasuryu draw his weapon in his periphery, Zaryusu followed suit and silently assumed a fighting stance. If there was going to be a fight, he meant to charge faster than anyone. They shouldn’t consider it overstepping my bounds if I let everyone know what this thing’s special ability is…
The air, stagnant with accumulated tension, thickened even further— and suddenly the resentful clamor stopped.
The voices from the monster mixed together to form one. Unlike the incomprehensible curses, this voice conveyed a proper meaning. “Hark, servants of the Great One. I come as a forewarning.”
Everyone stirred and looked at one another. Only Zaryusu and Shasuryu kept their eyes fixed.
“I announce your deaths. The Great One has mobilized an army that shall destroy you. Though that be so, in his generosity, he will grant you time to put up a frantic—futile—resistance. Eight days from today. On that day, you will be the second of the lizardman tribes around this lake to be sacrificed.”
Zaryusu’s face twitched into a scowl, and he bared his teeth to growl threateningly.
“Put up a desperate resistance—so that the Great One may delight in ridiculing you.”
Like smoke and its constantly shifting shape, the monster distorted and warped as it floated up into the air.
“Don’t forget—eight days.”
And it flew through the sky undisturbed in the direction of the forest. Among the many lizardmen watching it as it went, Zaryusu and Shasuryu gazed silently at the far horizon.
2
The largest hut in the village served as a meeting place, but usually it wasn’t used much. Since the lizardmen had a tribal chief with absolute authority, they didn’t hold meetings very often, so there was almost no point in having the hut at all. But that day there was an unusual excitement in the air.
There were so many lizardmen inside that what should have been a spacious room felt small. Of course the warrior caste was there, but so were the priests, hunters, elders, and the traveler Zaryusu. Everyone was seated cross-legged facing Shasuryu.
Shasuryu the chief announced the beginning of the meeting, and the first to speak was the head of the priests, an older female lizardman with strange symbols written on her body with white dye. The designs all had meanings, but Zaryusu didn’t know them. “You remember the cloud that covered the sky? That was magic. As far as I know, there are only two spells that can manipulate weather. One is a tier-six spell called Control Weather, so it couldn’t be that. Casters who can use tier-six spells are the stuff of legends. The other is the tier-four Control Cloud. Again, only an immensely powerful caster could use this. Only a fool would bare their fangs at such an enemy.”
The similarly painted priests lined up behind the head priest nodded in agreement.
Zaryusu knew what a feat tier-four magic was, but the doubtful groans of many who didn’t echoed throughout the room.
The look on the head priest’s face showed she wasn’t sure how to best explain it, but she singled out a lizardman. He looked perplexed in turn and pointed questioningly at himself.
“Yes, you. Could you win in a fight against me?”
The lizardman hurriedly shook his head.
He would probably be confident he could beat her if they were fighting using only weapons, but he had a very slim chance if magic was allowed. A slim chance that, as a warrior, was practically not worth considering.
“But I can only use up to tier two.”
“So our enemy’s twice as strong?” someone asked.
Sighing at the question, the head priest shook her head in lament. “It’s not that simple. Someone using tier-four magic could probably kill even our chief with no trouble at all.” Finally, she said, “I can’t say for sure. The possibility exists,” and closed her mouth.
Once everyone understood the awesome power of tier-four magic, a silence descended on the room until Shasuryu’s voice sounded again. “In other words, head priest…”
“I think we should run away. Even if we fight, we can’t win.”
“What are you saying?!” roared a large lizardman in a deep voice as he leaped up. In terms of sheer brawn, he—the leader of the warriors—was probably on par with Shasuryu. “You mean we should run before we even try to fight? Because of that little threat?”
“Do you have any brains in that head of yours? If we’re fighting, it means it’s already too late!” The head priest stood to meet the head warrior’s stare. Emotions were running high, and they unconsciously made threatening sounds at each other.
As the words touch-and-go situation came to everyone’s minds, a cold voice rang out. “…That’s enough.”
The warrior and priest turned to look at Shasuryu as if he’d woken them up with a bucket of cold water. Then they both apologized and sat back down.
“Head hunter, what’s your opinion?”
“…I can understand the head warrior’s view, as well as the head priest’s. They both make sense.” A lanky lizardman spoke in answer to Shasuryu’s question. Though he was lean, he wasn’t lacking muscle—just extremely slim in a pared-down way. “So I think since we have time, we can see how things go. It said there’ll be an army. They’ll need to pitch camp and whatnot, so isn’t it fine to observe them and decide what to do after that?”
Several voices agreed that it didn’t make sense to say this or that now, when they lacked information.
“Elder…”
“I can’t say anything. Everyone’s opinions feel correct. All that’s left is for the chief to decide.”
“Mph…” Shasuryu shifted his gaze, and Zaryusu felt their eyes meet across a few other lizardmen. The elder brother nodded without moving his head.
With the feeling like he’d gotten a gentle push from behind—although it may have been off a cliff—Zaryusu raised his hand to speak. “Chief, I’d like to give my opinion.”
Everyone’s eyes fell on Zaryusu. Most of the lizardmen were expectant, but some were frowning.
“You’re a traveler! There’s nothing for you to say. You should be happy you’re even allowed to be here,” said a member of the council of elders. “Step do—”
A tail whacked the floor with a bang. The sound cut off the elder’s comment like a sharp knife. “Quiet!” It was Shasuryu, with unpredictable emotion in his voice. He spoke half in the growls lizardmen made when agitated. No one could interrupt him if he was like that. The tension in the hut grew at once, and the heat of the excitement suddenly cooled.
In that strained atmosphere, one of the elders opened his mouth to speak—without noticing the unspoken urge from many others to let sleeping dogs lie. “But Chief, you can’t give him special treatment just because he’s your little brother. Travelers are—”
“I told you to be quiet. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Gngh…”
“Right now, we’re allowing everyone with knowledge to take part. It would be strange not to listen to the opinion of a traveler.”
“Travelers—”
“I’m the chief, and I say it’s fine. Are you really still objecting?”
The elder silently averted his eyes, and Shasuryu looked at the others.
“Head priest, head warrior, head hunter, do you agree that he’s not worth listening to?”
The first to respond was the head warrior. “I think Zaryusu’s opinion is worth hearing. There is no warrior who would ignore the opinion of the one who possesses Frost Pain.”
“I agree. There’s plenty of reason to listen,” came the head hunter’s jocular reply.
Finally, the head priest shrugged. “Of course I’ll listen. Only a fool ignores someone with knowledge.”
A few of the elders scowled at the scathing sarcasm. Shasuryu nodded at the three after they gave their opinions and gestured with his chin to Zaryusu that he could proceed.
Zaryusu remained seated and began to speak. “If it’s between running and fighting, I’d choose the latter.”
“Hmm, why is that?”
“It’s the only choice we have.”
If the chief was asking a question, a proper answer was required, but Zaryusu, with an attitude that said, That’s it, didn’t seem like he was going to elaborate.
Shasuryu rested his jaw on a fist and sank deep into thought.
What! Did you figure out what I’m thinking? Brother…
Zaryusu was troubled, although he didn’t let his inner thoughts show. Then the head priest asked no one in particular, “…But can we win?”
“Yes, we can!” the head warrior shouted energetically, to dispel their anxiety.
But the head priest just squinted.
“…No, the way we are now we can’t have much of a chance.” It was Zaryusu who verbally disagreed.
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Head warrior, our opponent must have gathered intelligence on us, what kind of fight we can put up. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be able to talk with such an air of superiority. That means that even if we fight well, victory must be impossible with our current strength.”
Then what should we do? It was the question on the tips of everyone’s tongues.
Zaryusu, still keeping his true intentions hidden, answered before they asked. “So we need to mess up their plan… Do you all remember the war?”
“Of course,” someone replied.
It had been only a few years ago; no one was so far gone that they would forget it so quickly. No, even if they’d gone senile, it would be impossible to forget that war.
Once there had been seven tribes in the great wetlands: Green Claw, Small Fang, Razor Tail, Dragon Tusk, Yellow Specter, Sharp Edge, and Red Eye.
But now there were only five. They had participated in a war where so many lizardmen died that two tribes were wiped out.
It started with a string of poor catches of their staple fish. Green Claw’s hunting parties began to extend their reach over a wider area of the lake. Of course, the same could be said of the other tribes.
Eventually, the hunting parties began to clash over fishing spots. Their respective tribes’ food was on the line, so they couldn’t back down.
It didn’t take long for arguments to turn into fights and for the fights to turn deadly. Eventually, warriors began to move in as backup for the hunting parties, and a fierce food war broke out.
Five of the seven tribes joined the conflict, which evolved into a three-on-two struggle: Green Claw, Small Fang, and Razor Tail joined forces to face Yellow Specter and Sharp Edge. Entire tribes participated—not only the warrior caste but also regular adult males and females as well.
After several all-out battles, the three allied tribes that included Green Claw won. The other side had lost so many members they couldn’t maintain their two tribes, and they scattered, although they were later absorbed by Dragon Tusk, who hadn’t participated in the war.
Ironically, the decrease in lizardmen living on the marsh had solved the food issue. There was enough of the staple fish to go around once again.
“What about it?”
“Remember what it said: We’re the second, so that must mean it’s going around to other villages besides ours.”
“Ohhh…” Some voices went up in understanding.
“So you think we should form another alliance, huh?”
“…You gotta be kidding.”
“No, I think we should.”
“Like during the war…?”
“If we do that, I think we have a chance at winning.”
Neighbors whispered to one another, and before long, the voices had transformed into a surging conversation. As everyone in the hut considered Zaryusu’s idea, only Shasuryu remained silent and made no move to speak. Unable to bear his deeply penetrating gaze, Zaryusu couldn’t meet his eyes.
After it seemed like they’d had enough time to discuss, Zaryusu spoke again. “Don’t misunderstand me. I mean with all the tribes.”
“What?!” The second one in the room to grasp his meaning, the head hunter, gasped.
Zaryusu looked straight at Shasuryu. The lizardmen standing between them involuntarily parted.
“I propose we ally with Dragon Tusk and Red Eye as well, Chief.”
This caused a huge commotion—Zaryusu might as well have thrown a bomb into the room.
Dragon Tusk and Red Eye were the two tribes who hadn’t participated in the war. Green Claw had no contact with them whatsoever, and since Dragon Tusk had taken in the surviving members of Yellow Specter and Sharp Edge, there had to be some deep-rooted resentment remaining in that tribe. Making an alliance with them would mean a five-tribe coalition.
If they could do it, they certainly might have a chance. As everyone imagined this faint hope, Shasuryu spoke suddenly. “Who will be the messenger?”
“I’ll do it.”
Shasuryu didn’t show any surprise at Zaryusu’s immediate reply. He knew his little brother well, so he’d probably expected it.
The surrounding lizardmen made admiring noises. They felt there wasn’t a better choice.
Only one person disapproved. “A traveler?” It was Shasuryu, shooting an icy look through Zaryusu.
“That’s right, Chief. This is an emergency. If they won’t listen to me because I’m a traveler, they’re not worth allying with.” Zaryusu had no trouble shrugging off the icicle glare.
They stared at each other for a few moments, and then Shasuryu cracked a bitter smile. Was it because he’d given up? Or because he knew nothing he said could stop his little brother? Or maybe he was inwardly smirking at himself for accepting that Zaryusu was the right choice? It was a pained smile. “Bring me the chief’s mark.”
The mark meant the bearer was the representative of the chief. It wasn’t something that could be given to a traveler. The council of elders was about to say something, but before they could, Shasuryu hit them with a fierce glare, and the words died in their throats.
“Thank you.” Zaryusu bowed his head.
Then Shasuryu spoke. “…I’ll be the one to choose the messenger to the other tribes. First…”
In the evening, a cool breeze blew. Since the area was a marsh, the rather high humidity combined with the heat to make the air stifling, but in the evening, the wind cooled off enough to be a little chilly. Of course, the change was nothing to the lizardmen with their thick skins.
Zaryusu splish-splashed through the marsh toward Rororo’s hut.
He still had time, but it was possible some unforeseen incident could occur. There was also the chance their enemy wouldn’t keep their promise or that they would disrupt his travels. Considering all those things, it made the most sense to ride Rororo across the marsh.
His waterlogged footsteps slowed and then stopped. His heavy leather pack jerked on his back. He’d stopped because a familiar lizardman had come out of Rororo’s house.
Their eyes met. After cocking his head at puzzled Zaryusu, the black-scaled lizardman moved closer. “I always thought you should have been chief,” Shasuryu began after coming to a stop about two yards away.
“What are you talking about, brother?”
“Remember the war?”
“Of course I do.”
It had been Zaryusu who had brought it up at the meeting; there was no way he didn’t remember it. Then it dawned on him that that wasn’t what Shasuryu was trying to say.
“…After it ended, you became a traveler. I regret branding you so much. I should have stopped you, even if I had to thrash you.”
Zaryusu vigorously shook his head. His brother’s expression back then was still a thorn in his heart. “…Because you let me go, I learned how to farm fish.”
“You could have figured it out here. A wise man like you should have been the one guiding the village.”
“Brother…”
Things that happened in the past couldn’t be undone, and there was no point in saying, But if only… It had already happened. So were they thinking that way because they were weak?
No, that wasn’t it.
“…Let me say this not as your chief but as your brother: I’m not going to ask if you’ll be okay on your own. Just come home safe. Don’t try too hard.”
Zaryusu replied with a cocky smile. “Of course. I’ll do a perfect job of it and come back fine. For me, it’ll be a cinch.”
“Mph.” A grin naturally spread across Shasuryu’s face. “Then if you fail, I’m gonna eat whichever of your fish has the most fat on it.”
“Brother, I don’t care about that. That’s not the kind of thing you should be saying now, though.”
“…Mph.”
They quietly laughed together. Eventually, although neither of them in particular made the move, they found themselves facing each other with serious expressions again.
“So is the alliance really your only aim?”
“…What do you mean? What are you trying to say?”
Zaryusu squinted—and thought, Crap. Considering how perceptive his brother was, he couldn’t react like that.
“The way you were talking in the hut, manipulating everyone’s opinion, you seemed reluctant.” Zaryusu was at a loss for words, and Shasuryu continued. “…One of the reasons we had that war was simply that the lizardman population had grown too large due to the lack of smaller-scale fights.”
“Brother…we’d better leave it at that.” Zaryusu’s steely tone confirmed Shasuryu’s theory.
“Aha…I see.”
“…It’s the only way…if we don’t want a repeat of that war,” Zaryusu snapped. It was an ulterior motive even he knew was no good. It was underhanded. He hadn’t wanted his older brother to find out, if at all possible.
“…Then what are you planning to do if the other tribes won’t form an alliance? We won’t be able to stand up to them later with just our selected survivors and runaways.”
“Then I guess…we’ll have to crush them first.”
“You’re saying we should destroy one another first?”
“Brother…”
Zaryusu was about to try to convince him, but Shasuryu laughed it off. “I understand, and your way of thinking is correct. I agree with you. As the leader of the tribe, I need to be thinking about its survival and continued existence. So don’t worry about it, Zaryusu.”
“I’m glad. So should I bring everyone to this village?”
“No, if what they said is true, we’re second in line; I envision the first village as the battleground. Normally I’d say we should gather in one of the later villages or one with good defenses, but things will be tough afterward if entire villages get burned down. We should block them at the first village, so can you go straight there when you’re ready? I’m going to ask the priests for magic so we can share information.”
“Sure thing.”
The magic his brother mentioned was hard to use for a large volume of text, and if the distance was too great it wouldn’t reach, but Zaryusu figured it would be okay for this trip.
“And for food, we’re gonna take your fish.”
“Of course. Just leave the fries. It seems like we’ve gotten into a good groove. Even if we have to abandon the village, they’ll come in handy.”
“Okay, I promise. How much food do you think there is?”
“…Counting the dried stuff, probably a thousand meals.”
“Okay, then there’s no immediate issue.”
“Yeah, I know you’ll take care of things. Okay, brother. I’ll be off now… Rororo.” In response to Zaryusu’s voice, a snake head appeared in the window. The pale moonlight reflected off its scales with a wet gleam. The way each individual scale sparkled when they shifted created a beautiful optical illusion. “Let’s go. Can you come over here?”
Rororo gazed at Zaryusu and Shasuryu for a few moments and then pulled in his head. There came the sound of something heavy splashing through the water and some gurgling.
“So, brother, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I wonder if you have the answer yet. Did you decide what to do about the number of people? Depending on how things go, I may use it to negotiate.”
Shasuryu hesitated slightly before answering. “…Ten from the warrior caste, twenty hunters, three priests, seventy males, a hundred females, and kids…a few.”
“I see… Got it.” Zaryusu fell quiet before Shasuryu’s exhausted smile.
A splash broke the heavy silence. The two of them looked in the direction it had come from and then smiled at each other out of nostalgia.
“Mph… He sure has gotten big. I was surprised when I went in the hut before!”
“Yeah, me too, brother. I had no idea he’d get this huge. He was so little when I found him.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. He was pretty big already when you brought him back to the village.”
As they reminisced about how Rororo used to look, four snake heads poked out of the water a little way from the hut. The four heads moved in the same way, pushing through the water toward Zaryusu and Shasuryu.
Suddenly the heads lifted high, and something huge came out of the water. The four reptilian heads on long twisty necks were attached to a giant four-legged body—Rororo was a magical beast called a hydra. When Zaryusu gave him fish, the chewing sounds proved he wasn’t a usual snake. He moved his sixteen-foot body with surprising obedience and went to Zaryusu.
Zaryusu scrambled up him with the lightness of a monkey climbing a tree.
“Get home safe! It’s just like you not to use your head and passionately shout that you won’t let a single person die, the way you used to.”
“…I guess I’m an adult now.”
Shasuryu snorted. “The little scamp is all grown up… Well, that’s fine. Take care! If you don’t come back, we’ll know who to attack first.”
“I’ll be back. Wait for me, brother.”
For just a little while, they gazed at each other, full of emotion; then without a word, their shadows moved apart.
3
The ninth level of the Great Tomb of Nazarick had many different rooms. Of course, there were guild member rooms and rooms for the NPCs, but there were also facilities like a large bath, a cafeteria, a beauty parlor, a clothing shop, a general store, a spa, a nail salon, and many other rooms reminiscent of stores.
The reason these kinds of places existed despite being meaningless in-game was either because lots of guild members had been obsessed with those types of details or perhaps because they were building the tomb in the image of an arcology. It could have even been that because employment conditions in the real world were so horrible, the designers longed for such places.
And in one of those rooms…
The manager of this particular area was the Great Tomb of Nazarick’s sous-chef. Usually he displayed his talents in the cafeteria, but depending on the day and time, he might also be here making sure things were ready in case someone came by. The room, designed to be like a short bar with only a handful of regulars, glowed quietly in the subdued lighting.
With shelves full of bottles and eight chairs at the bar, he was confident this was a fine enough room to quietly enjoy a drink. He was as content and fulfilled in this space he had been given as if it were his castle.
But several minutes after welcoming one first-time customer, he realized a lot of that depended on the character of his clientele.
Gulp, gulp, gulp, ahhhhhhh!
Thus his customer downed one drink after another. As the sous-chef absentmindedly polished a glass, he thought, If you want to drink like that, there are more appropriate places for it. The ninth level had lounges and bars. There was no need to guzzle here.
She slammed her glass—a rather large one—down on the counter. The
sous-chef desperately suppressed the urge to scowl.
“Next!”
In response to the order, he filled her glass—full to the brim with Spirytus and some Blue 1 on top. Then he gently offered it to her. “It’s called Tears of a Lady.”
The woman looked doubtful, but when he told her the name he’d improvised, her face lit up at finding a drink she’d never seen before. “So the blue spreading out in there is her tears?”
“Yes, that’s right,” he gracefully lied.
She picked up the glass, put it to her mouth, and chugged it in one go with the smooth motion of someone drinking coffee-flavored milk right after taking a dip at the bathhouse.
Then she slammed the empty glass on the bar just like before. “Phew, I’m a little drunk.”
“That’s what happens when you drink so fast. Perhaps you should go home and rest for today?”
“…Nah, I don’t wanna go home…”
“I see…” He tried to polish a glass and shrank from the woman’s obvious disapproval. If there’s something you want to say, then say it. This is why women are such a pain in the ***. This bar is meant for gentlemen dandies, not obnoxious women. I could just bar them from entry…or not. It would be disrespectful to the Supreme Beings. But what a bad idea this was…
He’d invited her here himself. She’d looked so forlorn walking along the hall of the ninth level that he’d gotten worried and approached her—and this was the result. In retrospect, he certainly regretted it. But now that he’d welcomed her into the bar as a customer, he needed to give her some degree of service as the bartender. Even if I give her random made-up drinks!
Bracing himself, he asked, “What’s the matter, Mistress Shalltear?”
He doubted it was just his imagination that she seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. “Sorry, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He frowned in spite of himself. But since he was a myconid, she didn’t understand his facial movements, so she didn’t respond. She just toyed with her glass on the bar with a finger.
“I’m a little drunk.”
“…I see.” That’s impossible but okay.
Shalltear seemed to think she was truly inebriated, but he could say with confidence that she was not. Drunkenness was a status like being poisoned, so anyone with total resistance to poison would never get drunk. Naturally, as an undead, poison didn’t work on Shalltear, so she wouldn’t get intoxicated from alcohol. Most of the patrons of his bar either removed their poison immunity item or just enjoyed the atmosphere, knowing they wouldn’t get a buzz.
But it must have been the truth that Shalltear thought she was drunk. Drunk on the atmosphere, perhaps.
As he wondered what to do, the glorious sound of what could be called a heavenly intervention rang out. He turned and bowed his head slightly. “Good evening.”
“Hey, Peckii.” The newcomer who called the bartender by his fungus-inspired nickname was one of his regulars, the assistant butler Éclair. He was accompanied by the male servant who carried him under his arm.
Éclair was quietly deposited on a chair as always. He was only about three foot three, and the bar chairs had high legs, so he had trouble sitting down by himself.
When the sous-chef looked at Shalltear, wondering why she hadn’t greeted the pair even though they sat right next to her, he saw she was staring at the counter and mumbling something. The words he could faintly hear seemed to be an apology to the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown.
Éclair gave his order in an affected manner. “I’ll have the usual.”
“Yes, sir.”
The usual could mean only one thing—the cocktail using ten liquors of ten different colors, the Nazarick. It looked exquisite, but flavor-wise, one glass was plenty. The regulars were fond of it and thought the name fit perfectly, but it wasn’t something that could be recommended to others. He’d experimented with ways to try to make it taste good, but he didn’t have much hope for the possibility.
He mixed the ten-colored cocktail with a practiced hand and set it in front of Éclair.
“You there, miss. This is for you.”
The next thing he heard was the glass tipping and spilling everywhere.
Éclair must have wanted to slide the drink down the bar to her, but that was a move only dexterous people or characters in a manga could do. It was not something a penguin could pull off.
The sous-chef picked up the fallen glass and let out a sigh of relief after examining it and finding no nicks. Next he wiped up the alcohol that had spilled across the counter and said quietly with an angry look, “Could you not smack drinks with your flippers? If you insist, then warn me and I’ll pour into a glass with a wider base.”
“…My sincere apologies.”
Noticing this comedic display, Shalltear seemed to finally realize Éclair was present and raised her head. “Oh, Éclair. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“It has indeed been a wh… I see you every time you come to the ninth level.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But it’s rare to see you here. I thought Demiurge was about the only guardian to come here, although he did stop by for a quiet drink with Cocytus the other day.”
“Really? Huh.” Shalltear’s eyes widened upon hearing of her colleagues.
“But what’s wrong? You look so distraught.”
“It’s noth— No, I just failed spectacularly. So I’m drowning my sorrows like the terrible guardian I am.”
Éclair looked perturbed and mouthed, What’s with her? to the sous-chef. But the sous-chef didn’t have an answer, so he just shook his head.
He wanted them to enjoy their drinks, though, so he brought up an unexpected topic. “Okay, for a change of mood, how about some apple juice?”
They both gave him blank looks.
“It’s made with apples from the sixth level.”
Perhaps that single detail piqued their interest; they both indicated they would have some. This genuine response satisfied him very much.
What appeared on the bar was completely normal apple juice, two glasses. He’d glanced at the servant, but the man had wordlessly refused as always. Of course, Éclair had a beak, so he remembered to give him a straw.
“The flavor is refreshing.”
“It’s not bad, but it lacks some oomph…mainly because it’s not very sweet, I guess?”
Those were their impressions after they’d drained their glasses in one go.
“Well, that can’t be helped. I tried eating one, but it just didn’t have as much honey flavor as the ones stored in Nazarick.”
“There are apple trees on the sixth level? I don’t remember any being there.”
But Shalltear remembered something. Before the sous-chef could reply, she supplied the correct answer. “Are those the ones Lord Ainz brought in? I heard from Albedo that he wanted to test whether we could grow outside fruit in Nazarick as part of the plan to replenish our supply of consumables.”
The sous-chef had heard it, too. He’d received orders to see if it was possible to make ability-boosting food with various outside ingredients. “Yes, I heard if it goes well he plans to build an orchard. But you don’t think they’re sweet enough?”
“It’s not undrinkable. It might be good for those times when you want a lighter sweetness.”
“…But who’s growing them? Aura and Mare are outside. Did they leave it up to their magical beasts?”
“No, no. A dryad Lord Ainz brought in is doing it.”
Éclair and Shalltear wore contrasting expressions of Who? and Ah! respectively.
“I see… Is this what he meant by getting the right man for the job? Had he already come up with this back then?”
“What do you mean? Someone new joined Nazarick?”
Shalltear answered Éclair’s question. The sous-chef had met the dryad, but he hadn’t heard the backstory, so he was all ears.
Apparently Lord Ainz had brought it along to some kind of fight to test the guardians’ teamwork. Then there had been a promise, and it came back to reside in Nazarick. Now it was an apple farmer.
“So Nazarick is changing and growing stronger bit by bit, huh?”
The sous-chef and Shalltear expressed their agreement.
The sous-chef was just the sous-chef, so he didn’t know any details or what the plans for the Great Tomb of Nazarick’s future were, but he understood well enough that Ainz Ooal Gown, the last remaining Supreme Being, was trying to accumulate power in this world.
“Oh. So that means there could be more new members of Nazarick, like the dryad…right?” Shalltear sulked at Éclair. “That sucks… I don’t want grimy outsiders strutting about in this sacred place.”
The sous-chef felt the same way. The thought of anyone not created here entering the Supreme Beings’ realm made him frown. But there was one thing more important than his opinion. “We have to just accept it. It’s what Lord Ainz decided.”
Any judgment of the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown was absolute; if he said something white was black, then it was black.
“I-it’s not like I would go against anything Lord Ainz decided!” Shalltear shouted, flustered.
The other two nodded.
“So from now on, we need to act as good role models—we need to be even more loyal to Lord Ainz. Of course, I don’t think anyone has tried to rebel against him besides you.”
“Yeah, by the way, Shalltear, how about this? I’ll promise you a high position, so—” Éclair started on one of his usual invitations—a scheme that could never succeed—but a strange noise interrupted him.
“Agh-gh-gh-gh-gh-gh.”
Both of them looked at Shalltear, who was holding her head in her hands. Through her groaning, it sounded like she was murmuring, “I’m loyal, I swear I’m loyal…”
“…Really, though, what happened? She’s not talking like she usually does, either.”
In response to Éclair’s bewilderment, the sous-chef shook his head and shrugged. “Who knows?”