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Overlord - Chapter 23
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1
“Oh, hey. We can see it now!” Seated behind the other two on Rororo, Zenbel grinned at the scene ahead.
A few hundred yards in front of them, the first village that had been targeted—home of the Razor Tail tribe—was coming into view. It was about the same size as the Green Claw village, but it looked bigger—probably because lizardmen from other tribes were gathering there. Since they were in the middle of preparing for the war, anyone working was moving in a hurry.
“I can’t get enough of this atmosphere!” Zenbel inhaled sharply through his nose and sniffed the air. The smell got his blood pumping and invited even more excitement.
Meanwhile, Crusch, who had probably never smelled anything like it before, had a different impression from the males. “Isn’t it dangerous to ride in on Rororo like this?” Currently in plant monster garb, she was anxious about the tension that she could sense from so far away. She was afraid that if they approached on the hydra, the agitated lizardmen might charge at them.
They might know Zaryusu’s face, but not Crusch’s or Zenbel’s, and besides, just because some of the Razor Tail tribe members knew him didn’t mean they all did.
“No, it’s the opposite. We’re safe precisely because we’re on Rororo.”
Crusch looked puzzled—well, he couldn’t see her face, but she certainly seemed puzzled—so he gave a simple explanation.
“My brother should be here already, and if he is, he definitely told them we were coming on Rororo. They probably already told him they saw us. All we have to do is take our time approaching.”
In fact, as Rororo continued across the marsh, a single black lizardman appeared. Zaryusu waved at the familiar figure.
“That’s my brother.”
“Oh?”
“Hmm!”
They reacted in unison—Crusch with pure curiosity, Zenbel like a beast who had discovered another powerful animal.
As Rororo advanced, the distance between the two brothers shrank. Eventually they grew close enough that they could make out each other’s faces. It had been only three days since they’d seen each other, but when they had parted ways, both had braced for the possibility that they would never meet again. Needless to say, it was an emotional reunion.
“Hey, you made it, little brother!”
“Yes, and I bring good news, brother!”
Shasuryu looked at the two behind his brother. Zaryusu felt Crusch’s arms around him stiffen a bit.
Rororo stopped right in front of Shasuryu, recognizing him, and stretched out his four heads for some affection.
“Sorry, but I didn’t bring any food!” Hearing that, Rororo sulkily pulled his heads away. Of course, the hydra couldn’t understand the lizardman language. He must have worked it out through what could be called family understanding. Or maybe he just didn’t smell any food.
“Okay, let’s get down,” Zaryusu said over his shoulder to the other two before hopping nimbly off. Then he reached out and took Crusch’s hand.
Shasuryu’s eyes paused on her as she got down, and he frowned suspiciously. “What’s that plant monster?”
Crusch slumped a bit at receiving the same reaction once again, but she didn’t bother objecting. Her current apathy was probably thanks to Zenbel. But even she wasn’t ready for the bomb Zaryusu dropped.
“She’s the female I’m in love with.”
“Ahh!” Shasuryu emitted a sigh of wonderment and turned his shameless gaze on Crusch, who was petrified and still holding Zaryusu’s hand. “Mph… well, there’s only one thing I want to ask. Is she pretty under there?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking of marr— Ngh!” A sudden pain in his hand made
Zaryusu shut his mouth. Crusch had dug her claws into it—hard.
Shasuryu observed the pair with a dazed expression. “I see…so you like the pretty ones. What was all that about, ‘Oh, I can’t get married’? Trying to act so cool. You just didn’t have the right person! …Anyhow, I’m chief of the Green Claw tribe, Shasuryu Shasha. I’m grateful to you for becoming our ally.”
His tone brooked no disagreement because of the nature of their coming together, but Crusch and Zenbel had no need to be shaken by him now.
“Likewise. I’m acting chief of the Red Eye tribe, Crusch Lulu.”
Everyone thought Zenbel would reply after Crusch, but contrary to their expectations, his greeting didn’t come. He showed no restraint as he blatantly appraised Shasuryu.
Perhaps satisfied, he nodded and spoke with a feral expression. “Hmm, so you’re the one, huh? The warrior who can fight with the powers of a priest? I’ve heard the rumors!”
“I’m surprised they’ve spread as far as Dragon Tusk,” Shasuryu replied. They were like two wild animals acknowledging each other’s presence.
“I’m the chief of Dragon Tusk until your little brother says he’s ready to step in. Zenbel Gugu.”
“So good of you to come. I welcome you as a worthy chief for a tribe that prizes strength above all.”
“Speaking of which, you wanna have a quick fight? Don’t you think it’ll be easier to talk if we know who’s strongest?”
“…I’m not opposed to it…”
Zaryusu wasn’t about to stop him. He figured it would be useful to know in various situations going forward.
Before they could begin, however, Shasuryu held up a hand to curb Zenbel’s urge to fight. “…But it’s kind of a bad time.”
“Aww, c’moooon!”
Shasuryu grinned at Zenbel’s discontent. “The ones who are out on patrol will be back pretty soon. Then we should know some details about the enemy. You can wait until after that, right?”
One hut had been designated as the meeting room for the chiefs. Inside gathered the leaders of each tribe, plus Zaryusu, for a total of six.
Zaryusu was well known among the other tribes as the male who killed the chief of the Sharp Edge tribe, previous owner of Frost Pain, as well as the hero who convinced them to form the alliance. None of the chiefs had any objection to having him in the meeting.
The hut wasn’t very big, but the six of them managed to sit in a circle. When Crusch had first shown her white skin, three of the chiefs were unable to hide their surprise, but now they were composure incarnate.
After formalities, the first one to speak was the Small Fang chief. He had a small body for a lizardman, but his limbs were strong and smooth like steel. Apparently he’d been a hunter, and he probably had the best projectile weapon skills of any lizardman on the lake. In fact, he had ended his fight to become chief by lobbing a single rock.
“There were a little under five thousand enemies.” He had mobilized all the hunting parties to search for the enemy army.
That was considerably larger than all the lizardman forces combined, but it wasn’t outside the realm of their expectations. There were even some sighs of relief that their adversaries were so few.
“…And their leader?”
“We couldn’t quite figure it out. There was a monster like a big red lump of meat, but as you might expect, it was hard to get close enough to see much.”
“What’s their order of battle like?”
“It’s an undead mob, skeletons and zombies.”
“Were they using lizardman corpses?”
“No. I don’t know much about land creatures, so I can’t say for sure, but…I think they might be human bodies. They didn’t have any tails,” explained the Small Fang chief.
Hearing that, Zaryusu was certain they were the plains-dwelling human race.
“We can’t make the first move and attack them?”
“It’d be tough. They’re located in a corner of the forest that they’ve cleared to create an open area. I wonder how long that took. I’m also curious where all the lumber went, since we didn’t see it anywhere. Ah, sorry! Guess I’m off topic. Anyhow, they’re in the woods. We may have been able to get in there, but I imagine it’d be difficult with the warriors along.”
“So what about a hunter-only assault?”
“There’s no way, Crusch. How do you expect us to take out five thousand undead with twenty-five hunters? They’d catch us and crush us, and it’d be over,” replied the Small Fang chief.
“Hmm… Then how about mobilizing the priests?” Some nodded at Shasuryu’s suggestion, and their eyes gathered on Crusch—but Zaryusu replied promptly.
“Let’s skip this plan.”
“Huh? Why?!”
“They’ve been keeping their promise so far, but I’m not sure they’ll continue to once we go on the offensive.”
“You may be right. At the very least, we should wait until everyone is here to attack.”
“So are we looking at a siege, then?”
“Hard to defend.” The broken speech came from one of the lizardmen—the Razor Tail chief. He was clad head to toe in white armor with a dull luster.
The armor was enchanted—if only ever so slightly—and one of the lizardmen’s Four Great Treasures, White Dragon Bone. It was carved from the bones of frost dragons, creatures with a natural ability to chill things and rumored to inhabit the Azerlisia Mountains. That being said, something carved out of plain bones, even the bones of an immensely powerful dragon, wouldn’t be imbued with magic, but at some point, this armor had become magical.
The problem was that its power likely came from a curse.
White Dragon Bone made the wearer only as strong as the amount of intelligence they forfeited. On the body of someone wise, it could be harder than not only steel but also mythril or the legendary adamantite.
The catch was that any cleverness stolen by the armor would not return when the wearer took it off—thus its reputation of being cursed.
When the Razor Tail chief, famous for his wisdom, equipped the armor, he was able to repel all the weapons the lizardmen had. Its fellow Great Treasure Frost Pain was no exception. The armor had probably reached adamantite-level hardness.
While most who attempted to use White Dragon Bone had lost nearly all their intelligence and ended up idiots, the Razor Tail chief alone maintained a much lesser but still working mind, showing how intelligent he’d been from the start. That was why ever since he became chief, his tribe hadn’t held a fight to decide a new one.
“H-here marsh. Bad footing. Walls…break easy.”
“I see. So we should be more aggressive?” asked Crusch.
“Heh. Sounds good to me! Attacking feels better than defending anyhow. If everybody takes three or four? We just gotta beat ’em, right? It’ll be a cinch!”
The other participants all just looked at one another. Eventually, Crusch, overlooking Zenbel’s remarks, began to speak. “The problem will be if they have backup… It’s also possible they’re still assembling their force.”
“Nnn, I wonder. It doesn’t seem like they can fit any more undead in the clearing they have, at that size… Well, but they could just put them here and there throughout the forest.”
Undead didn’t need food, drink, or rest, so they didn’t require a large open campsite. For that reason, it was difficult to accurately estimate their numbers from the size of their location.
“We should keep the possibility of a siege battle in mind, just in case.”
“Then we of the Red Eye tribe will reinforce the walls so they’ll be able to withstand such a battle. Thanks in advance for your cooperation.”
All the other chiefs nodded in approval, even forlorn-looking Zenbel.
“For the time being, let’s prepare for a siege. Also, we need to define a system of command.”
“For starters, let’s have Crusch lead the priests. We should have her command them during the war, too.”
As everyone agreed with the Small Fang chief’s proposal, one voice objected. “The chiefs should be a separate group.” It had been Zaryusu who spoke, and all eyes gathered on him.
“Aha. I see what you mean, Zaryusu,” said Shasuryu.
“Plan to m-make…elite squad?”
“That’s right. There are a lot of enemies. If we don’t take out their commander, we may lose. And if monsters like those messengers to each village come out, we won’t be able to beat them with numbers—we’ll need a small select group.”
“But don’t we need commanding officers?”
“Can n…nomin…pick from…head warriors.”
“We’re fine without commanders. All we gotta do is hit the enemies in front of us!”
“…What if we had a separate group to give orders from the rear and only engage if we find their HQ or the battle takes a turn for the worse?”
“Sounds like a plan to me! Okay, so how about this group of six, including Zaryusu?” said Zenbel.
“No, let’s break it down further into three and three,” said Crusch. Splitting up meant they would be able to fight on two fronts, but it would make them weaker. “One group to go for the enemy commander and another to hang back on defense.”
“Then it would be smart to split up into us three chiefs, and then Zaryusu and the two chiefs he brought over. The squad roles we can play by ear,” offered the Small Fang chief.
“Mmm, I’m fine with that. Zaryusu?” said Shasuryu.
“Yeah, that’ll work. No objections, Crusch, Zenbel?”
“I’m fine with it.”
“Me, too, although it’s too bad I can’t just punch at random. You beat me, though, so I’ll follow your lead.”
“So we only have four days left until they attack, right?”
“Yup.”
“Then what do we need to do?”
“Get some stones for ammunition, reinforce the walls…and set up communication among tribes. We need a system to make sure everything is getting done.”
“The Small Fang tribe is for leaving the assigning of all these tasks up to Shasuryu like last time.”
“Us fine…too. You two…opinions?”
Crusch and Zenbel nodded their agreement.
“Then I’ll go ahead and take command. Let’s figure out a detailed plan for the next three days.”
Having finished his work for the day, Zaryusu walked silently through the busy village. Several lizardmen saw the brand on his chest and Frost Pain at his hip and greeted him respectfully. It was kind of a bother, but he had to reply to keep morale up. He put on a confident expression and responded as was expected of a hero.
Projecting that attitude, he headed to a part of the village’s outer wall. A hurried construction project was under way there, and several lizardmen worked on it single-mindedly.
First, they made a frame by filling the spaces between wooden posts with plants. Next, they coated it with pasty mud. The priests cast some kind of spell, and all the moisture evaporated at once to create a cracked wall. They repeated the same process on the back side.
“Oh, Zaryusu. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wondered what you were doing.” Zaryusu sloshed across the marsh to stand next to the overseer, plant monster Crusch. He pointed at the work going on in front of them. “What in the world is that?”
“A mud wall. We have no idea what kind of monsters might show up, so we thought it would be good to build a wall so they can’t get into the village so easily, but…we don’t have much time, and we’re not even halfway done.”
“I see… But isn’t mud really easy to break through?”
“No worries. A thin coat of mud is easy to break but not a thick wall. It’s a rush job, and we weren’t able to collect enough materials, so rain will weaken it a bit, but this wall won’t be destroyed so easily.”
Come to think of it, anything thick is hard to break. Zaryusu was convinced, but despite the dozen or so lizardmen frantically building, the pace was dismally slow. Tortoise slow. Even if they did their best for three more days, the wall wouldn’t get much longer. Still, something was better than nothing.
“Right now, we’re changing the parts we won’t be able to cover to a sturdy fence.” She pointed.
The workers had stood the posts up on triangular bases. Multiple ropes of woven plant material were strung loosely between them. Zaryusu remembered that this was the way the Red Eye tribe built their fences.
“What is that?”
“You weigh down the bases to make the posts impossible to pull or push over. Then the ropes are positioned so no one can slip between the posts. If you stretch them taut, they’re easier to cut with a sword, so you leave them loose on purpose.” Crusch replied to his question a little eagerly.
All during their trip she had been learning things from him, so she was happy to be the teacher for once. And there was another emotion she felt.
“I see… Yeah, that’ll take a lot to knock down.”
Crusch breathed deeply with pride when she heard Zaryusu’s admiration.
Zaryusu nodded emphatically.
The rushed fortifications were developing well. They weren’t much compared to what humans or dwarves could build, but considering they were on uneven marshland, there was probably nothing better.
“By the way, Zaryusu, did you tell the warriors—” Just then, they heard the voices of warriors shouting on the wind. They were excited about something.
“What the heck is going on? That’s a cheer I’ve heard somewhere before… Oh! It’s like when you were fighting. Could it be your brother and Zenbel?”
Zaryusu nodded, noting the uneasiness in Crusch’s eyes.
“Won’t it be trouble if your brother loses? He’s supposed to be the commander in chief.”
“Who knows? But he’s strong, you know. Especially if he has time to use his priest powers, he’ll grow stronger and stronger. My brother can definitely beat me if I’m not careful.”
Shasuryu’s fighting prowess after casting some protective spells on himself was no joke. Also, though he probably wouldn’t use his attack magic in a sparring match, if he started casting, he’d be so strong that Zaryusu wouldn’t have a chance without Frost Pain. After all, when Zaryusu had defeated the sword’s former owner, it had been Shasuryu who originally forced the owner to use up the entire day’s worth of Frost Pain’s power.
“I guess it’s okay, then…”
Crusch couldn’t seem to conceal her fear. As Zaryusu considered whether he should let her see his brother fight, he remembered a worry he hadn’t mentioned yet. He wondered whether he should say it or not, but then made up his mind.
It wasn’t fair to say something he’d withheld on purpose now that everything was decided, but he couldn’t suppress the simple yet intense feeling that he didn’t want to hide anything from the female he loved.
“I am worried about one thing…”
He couldn’t keep the fear out of his voice, and Crusch smiled—because she’d known there had been something. That smugness was so unlike her, so out of place, that Zaryusu couldn’t get any more words out.
The one who spoke instead was Crusch. “The thing you didn’t say back there? The scenario where the enemy expects this? The scenario where they’re just waiting for us to form an alliance?”
Zaryusu didn’t say anything. She was right.
The possibility lingered that the enemy had given the lizardman tribes time, clearly stated the order in which villages would be attacked, and allowed them to make war preparations only because they wanted to crush all the tribes in one fell swoop.
“There are a lot of things to worry about, especially for someone like you who thinks so much. But I believe we should just try to fight first…and then think from there?”
“Even if we win, that doesn’t mean they’ll just give up. No, honestly, the chance they’ll give up after one fight is so low.”
“Maybe so. But you were right about what you said that night, and look—” She raised her hand. She wasn’t pointing to anything in particular, but Zaryusu understood that she meant the whole village. “All of us are working together toward a common goal.”
It was true. All the different lizardmen were advancing toward a common objective.
He remembered the feast held the previous night to celebrate the five-tribe alliance. There hadn’t been any distinction among tribes. Of course, it would be a lie to say the survivors of the scattered clans had no hard feelings, but they had the will to swallow them for this alliance.
It’s so ironic, Zaryusu thought without moving his lips. He’d thought their isolation would continue on and on, but now everyone had united for the first time against a common enemy.
“What we have to protect is possibilities, Zaryusu. This alliance among all the tribes should allow us to grow.”
The mud walls were technology Zaryusu had never seen before, but another tribe knew it well. Soon, this type of wall would spread through all the tribes. With protection that sturdy, monsters wouldn’t be able to get into the villages anymore. That would lower the chances of weaker lizardmen and children being attacked, and the population would increase. Zaryusu’s fish preserves could provide food for the growing numbers. There could even be a day in the not-so-distant future when they made one big lizardman tribe on the marsh.
“Hey, let’s win this, Zaryusu. There’s no way to know what will happen next. It could be that if we win this one fight it’ll all be over. Then we can grow. Maybe the world will be a nice place where we don’t kill one another over food.” Crusch smiled.
Zaryusu held back the emotions that welled up inside him. He couldn’t risk letting them go and doing something ridiculous. But just this one thing…
“You really are a great female. When this fight is over, you need to let me know the answer to what I asked when we first met.”
Crusch’s smile grew even brighter. “Okay, Zaryusu. When it’s over, I’ll tell you.”
•
Demiurge hummed a cheerful tune as he worked.
He held up a polished bone, considering where to best put it. Finding the perfect spot, he filed the tip and fit the piece into one end of what he was building. The bone locked into place as if it had been made to go there.
In the same way that traditional wood joinery techniques allow furniture to be made without metal fastenings, what Demiurge was doing could be called “traditional bone joinery.”
“Very good.” Beaming, he pet the bone. He had the feeling if things continued this way, his project would turn out wonderfully. “But I could use a femur from a three-foot-eleven man…” He could finish the project without one—it just wouldn’t be quite as aesthetically pleasing.
Normally he might have overlooked such shortcomings, but this was a present for his master, whom he loved and revered devoutly. He had to give his all.
“If only someone like that happened to be nearby…”
He cheerfully set to work again.
Actually, Demiurge enjoyed making things like this. Not bone work, but carpentry-like activities. His hobby covered a wide range of projects, from small crafts to furniture, and his skill had surpassed that of any typical hobbyist. In fact, the quality of the piece he was working on now would blow anyone away, if they were able to ignore the building material.
Really, a person would react with awe upon seeing any of the things in Demiurge’s tent: The bronze statue of his master made so they could pour lava into it, various types of chairs, a vise—these were all things Demiurge had created. They were made for practical use, and therefore unadorned, but they had all turned out splendidly.
As he picked up another piece of material from the corner of the tent to carefully consider, he sensed movement at the entrance.
He quietly replaced the bone, gripping the irreplaceable item he’d received from his master, and focused on the newcomer. Under usual circumstances, he would have assumed it was one of his minions or a colleague—it was impossible for anyone to penetrate his triple-defense system without his noticing—but he couldn’t afford to leave any openings when they were up against the enemy who had mind controlled Shalltear.
The one to open the flap and enter the tent a few seconds later was wearing a white outfit and a mask with a long nose like a pitch-black bird beak—Pulcinella. He was a clown created by the Supreme Beings and assigned to assist Demiurge on his current job.
After checking to make sure the servant hadn’t been mind controlled, Demiurge relaxed his focus, and the hand gripping his item slackened.
“Master Demiurge, I’ve finished skinning them.”
At those words, he felt just a tiny bit of disappointment. Normally that would be the kind of work he’d relish himself, but they were on guard against an unknown enemy, so he couldn’t really leave his post. Thus such enjoyable work had fallen to Pulcinella. Without letting those feelings show now, he gave a new order. “Good work. On to the next step. It would be rude to hand them over to Lord Ainz in their current state.” The clown gave an elegant bow, and Demiurge asked, “And how many died?”
“Thanks to the tortures, none. They just lost consciousness. It seems like we’ll be able to skin them again almost immediately. Some are refusing healing magic, but…the number is around what we expected, so it’s not a problem.”
“That’s wonderful.”
It was taking quite a lot of effort to find materials. If they couldn’t flay each one more than once, the work would never be worth it. That didn’t mean they had any intention of taking away the pain or putting them to sleep, though.
“I want to make everyone happy.”
At this sudden declaration, Demiurge recalled Pulcinella’s personality. Pulcinella was known throughout Nazarick as particularly gentle and compassionate. Since he was created to bring happiness to everyone, his behavior always reflected that.
“The beings in the Great Tomb of Nazarick are all happy because we are able to serve Lord Ainz.”
Demiurge nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Indeed. Then let me ask you this, Pulcinella. Are outsiders also happy to serve Nazarick?”
“No, they are most definitely not. Certainly, getting to serve Lord Ainz is cause for gladness. One might choke on tears of joy. But if one is forced to serve, that is not happiness.”
“Oh-ho! Then whatever should we do about that?”
“That’s simple. We choose one and cut off his arm. Then the others compare themselves to him and understand that they are happy. What a wonderful thing. Then to make the one with the missing arm happy, we just cut off someone else’s leg. Ohhh, I am making so many people happy!”
Demiurge gave a satisfied nod as Pulcinella leaned his head back and cackled. “Indeed. You are quite correct.”
2
Time spent idly waiting normally drags on and on, but before a deadline for preparations, it always goes by surprisingly fast.
And so, the appointed time had arrived.
That day, the sun climbed agonizingly slowly into a clear blue sky. The wind carried not a single sound, and the world was wrapped in a silence so deep it was painful.
The air was so tense a pinprick would pop it.
Someone swallowed hard; someone else was breathing raggedly.
How much time had passed since the gathered lizardmen had stopped talking?
Suddenly a single black cloud appeared, like a hole in the heavens. Just like last time, it spread out to cover the blue sky.
Once it had encompassed the whole expanse, blocking the light of the sun to cast the area into gloom…
The lizardmen looked on as countless undead slowly appeared at the boundary between the woods and the marsh. They couldn’t tell how many because of the trees. But the way they came one after the other made them seem endless.
The attackers consisted of 2,200 zombies, 2,200 skeletons, 300 undead beasts, 150 skeleton archers, and 100 skeleton riders—4,950 in total, plus the commander and his guards.
Defending against them was the five-tribe lizardman alliance.
From the Green Claw tribe: 103 warriors, 5 priests, 7 hunters, 124 males, and 105 females.
From the Small Fang tribe: 65 warriors, 1 priest, 16 hunters, 111 males, and 94 females.
From the Razor Tail tribe: 89 heavy warriors, 3 priests, 6 hunters, 99 males, and 81 females.
From the Dragon Tusk tribe: 125 warriors, 2 priests, 10 hunters, 98 males, and 32 females.
From the Red Eye tribe: 47 warriors, 15 priests, 6 hunters, 59 males, and 77 females.
In other words, 429 warriors, 26 priests, 45 hunters, 491 males, and 389 females—1,380 in total, plus the chiefs and Zaryusu.
A war where one side outnumbered the other three to one was about to begin.
•
It was a one-room wooden building.
There was no ornamentation. It was built simply, like a log cabin with the wood showing; however, it was easily twenty-one yards on each side and the ceiling rose over sixteen feet.
There were barely any furnishings—just a giant mirror hung on one wall; a huge, thick, sturdy table; and the chairs around the table.
Several people sat down, and on the table were a number of rolled-up pieces of parchment—magic scrolls.
“And thiiis is the laaaast one. A teleportation scrooooll.” Along with the high-pitched voice—high enough to plausibly belong to a young girl—another scroll was placed on the table.
The one who put it there was a human woman wearing a maid uniform. She was a dainty little thing, with her hair done in a chignon style like dumplings on either side of her head. But there was something strange about her, most noticeably in her eyes. They were cute enough, but they had no spark, as if they were made of cheap glass. Not only that, but she never blinked. The collar of the risqué maid outfit covering her slim body was high, covering her entire neck. In fact, the only bare skin showing was her face. She was a member of the Pleiades, Entoma Vasilissa Zeta.
“Now thennn, there’s alsooo a Message scroooll, so basically, there are quite a fewww. Maybe I could have them clear the table for nowww?” Entoma addressed the one sitting at the head of the table.
The figure nodded. “LET’S DO THAT.”
“Okayyy. Chop-chop, thennn! Please clean it uuup!”
With Cocytus’s approval and Entoma’s order, everyone around the table began to move at once. They were all grotesques. One looked like a praying mantis, another like a spider, another like a giant brain. Everybody looked very different from one another, but they had two things in common: They were all Cocytus’s minions, and they all served Nazarick. That was why they were taking orders from Entoma even though she was weaker than them.
The structure of authority in the Great Tomb of Nazarick was based not on who was strongest but on whether one was created directly by the Supreme Beings or not. In that sense, Entoma was superior.
Confirming that the table had been cleared, she mumbled, “Now thennn, I’ll give theeese to youuu, Master Cocytusss,” without opening her mouth, and picked up the bag at her feet. She took out a few rolled-up pieces of parchment. “Message scrooolls. Lord Ainz told meee they were made with skins acquired by Master Demiuuurge. He saiiid to report back if you have any trouble using themmm.”
“OKAY…UNDERSTOOD. I’LL SEE IF I HAVE ANY ISSUES.” He took several of the proffered scrolls with one of his four hands. “DEMIURGE HAS GOTTEN AHEAD OF ME AGAIN,” he said, smiling wryly at the minions in the room. Someone answered with a faint, sycophantic laugh.
With the parchments in hand, Cocytus fell deep into thought. He had also heard that Nazarick’s store of parchment for enchanting with low-level spells was running low.
Finding sources of materials to make various items was a very important project. Sure, they still had some leeway now, but if they just kept consuming items, they would eventually run out. That was why various people, including their master, were working on it. The apple trees he’d heard about, on the sixth level, were part of that plan.
However, the resource problem was something that Cocytus, who had been appointed to guard Nazarick, could do nothing about. Of course he couldn’t. There was no way he could go outside if he was tasked with guarding the base. It was completely natural that Demiurge, who had ventured out to gain them a foothold, should be the one to solve that problem.
Cocytus’s associate of equal rank had succeeded in his mission.
He should have been happy about it. And really, he was. He just couldn’t completely extinguish the flames of envy deep in his heart. He was so jealous that his colleague had been of use to a Supreme Being—a Supreme One worthy of their worship—that he couldn’t stand it.
His own job was to protect Nazarick.
It was perhaps more important than any other guardian’s job. Every minion he asked would tell him it was a critical task. They couldn’t allow vulgar rabble to set foot in the hallowed ground made by the Supreme Beings.
But with no raiders, there could be no proof of Cocytus’s faithful service. He wanted to do something that could show results. For a guardian, being useful to one’s master was a joy. Cocytus wanted to taste that joy, too. His chance was here, right now.
Cocytus turned his head to gaze at the scene in the mirror as he gripped the scrolls. The reflection was not of the room he was in but a marsh somewhere. Yes. The view from the Mirror of Remote Viewing was the reason he’d spent two days camped in this log cabin, which Aura had built.
This war—no, from the point of view of the overwhelmingly powerful Great Tomb of Nazarick, this was no more than a slaughter—was merely a way to collect corpses. When Cocytus received this mission, which could also be termed a harvest festival, he was given a number of orders straight from the top.
First, he, Cocytus, would not face the enemy directly. Of course, that went for his underlings as well. He was to make do with the troops he was provided.
Second, he was to hold back the elder lich commander provided to him for until he absolutely needed to deploy him.
Third, he was to rely on his own judgment as much as possible.
There were a few other small things, but those were the main ones.
He needed to somehow claim victory with just the troops deployed around the lake. If he could succeed, he would be able to prove his devotion to his great master.
“NICE WORK. I’D LIKE YOU TO THANK LORD AINZ FOR ME.”
Entoma sluggishly bowed her head.
“SO…ARE YOU GOING BACK?”
“No, I was tooold to watch how the battle goooes from heeere.”
SO SHE’S OVERSEEING. Having concluded that, he felt a surge of excitement for the mission. THEN LET’S GET STARTED.
Cocytus cast Message and gave orders to the undead commander—to march.
•
Bonfires on either side of a raised platform cast a flickering light throughout the area. There were a few lizardmen on the stage—important figures like the chiefs and heads of each tribe.
In the open area before them were all the many lizardmen who had gathered to fight. A quiet commotion rose from them like sea spray. It was the buzzing of the agitation they couldn’t completely hide, even if they desperately tried to conceal their worry, panic, and fear.
This war was about to start. The close friends standing next to them might turn to corpses in the next moment. Or they themselves could be the ones to fall. That was the kind of battlefield onto which they were headed.
Shasuryu Shasha stepped forward out of the line of chiefs to hush the crowd. “Listen to me, lizardmen!” His imposing voice filled the air. Suddenly it was silent enough to hear a pin drop, and his voice echoed even louder. “I’ll admit, there are a lot of ’em!”
No one made a sound, but it was obvious that the throng was upset by this.
Shasuryu waited a moment before continuing. “But there’s nothing to be afraid of! We five tribes have formed an alliance, the first of its kind in history. Because of this alliance, during this time, we are one tribe. That means the spirits of all the tribes’ ancestors—even the spirits of tribes not our own—will protect us! Head priests!”
Reacting to his voice, Crusch Lulu stepped forward, leading the five head priests. She removed her clothing, revealing her white scales.
“Leader of the head priests, Crusch Lulu!”
Responding to his call, she took another step forward.
“Call the spirits down!”
“Please listen, children of this united tribe!”
What was this newborn tribe? Crusch Lulu spoke firmly and eloquently on the topic in undulating tones, sometimes high, sometimes low, almost like she was singing.
At first almost everyone had been disgusted by the albino. But her bold, confident bearing changed their minds bit by bit as they watched.
As Crusch spoke, she twisted slightly this way and that. Her white scales glittered in the light of the fire, as if the spirits of their ancestors had descended into her body.
Unbeknownst to the audience themselves, their expressions became one of worship.
“Five tribes are now one. The ancestral spirits of every tribe will protect all of you! Look, lizardmen! Watch as the innumerable spirits of all our tribes descend upon you!” Crusch spread her arms wide and pointed to the heavens.
Many gazes followed her gesture, but of course there was nothing but a cloudy sky. It didn’t seem like any spirits were appearing. But someone murmured:
“That little light!”
The voices started small but grew bigger and bigger. Several of the lizardmen announced they could see something: Some saw tiny lights; some shouted they saw lizardmen just like them; some saw a giant fish; some were surprised to see children; others said no, they were eggs. The lizardmen couldn’t believe their eyes.
They thought it was truly the descent of the ancestral spirits. What else could it have been?
“Our ancestors are here to protect us!”
It was only natural that people would start shouting such things.
“Feel it! Feel their power as it flows into you!”
They could hear Crusch’s voice slipping into their hearts from somewhere far away or perhaps somewhere very close. Guided by that voice, many of the lizardmen felt something resembling power enter them.
“Feel it! Feel the strength of our ancestors coursing through you!”
All the lizardmen gathered there felt it for sure—a power bubbling up within them, an excitement that dispelled all their previous anxiety, a fountain warming their bellies like strong alcohol.
It was real proof that the spirits had descended upon them.
Turning away from the sea of rapt expressions before her, Crusch nodded to Shasuryu.
“Now, lizardmen. The spirits of our ancestors have come to walk among us. Our opponents may outnumber us, but will we be defeated?!”
“No!” Still entranced, the multitude of lizardmen responded to Shasuryu in chorus, and the atmosphere swelled.
“That’s right! The ancestral spirits are with us! We will not be defeated! Destroy our enemies and dedicate the victory to our ancestors!”
“Yeah!” Their fighting spirit blazed. There were no longer any anxious lizardmen, only lizardmen facing the coming battle as warriors.
The army hadn’t been dazzled by magic. Even with this many druids gathered, there was no way they had the resources to cast spells on this many lizardmen right before the big fight. The vision was the result of each lizardman being served a special drink right before the ritual.
It was a drink said to inspire bravery, a tradition passed down among the lizardmen, but its actual effects were short term intoxication, euphoria, and hallucinations—an elixir made with a special roasted herb.
The drink brought about an altered state of consciousness. Crusch’s speech had been a way to buy time while the drink took effect.
Once the trick is revealed, it’s not very interesting. But for the ones who experienced those effects—the lizardmen who saw the spirits of their ancestors descend—the ritual really did inspire courage.
“Now we’ll pass around the paint. Normally each tribe would have their own color, but the ancestral spirits of the five tribes are in all of you. Decorate yourselves with all the colors!”
Priests carrying earthenware pots strolled through the crowd. The lizardmen took paint from the pots and began to paint their bodies with whatever patterns they liked. Supposedly it was actually the ancestral spirits within them painting, so they all let their fingers run wherever they might go.
Many lizardmen covered nearly their whole bodies, especially since this time the spirits of all five tribes had descended, but among them, the Green Claw tribe members barely painted at all. This was due to the fact the leading members, Shasuryu and Zaryusu, didn’t decorate themselves very much. Their tribesmen were like fans imitating their idols.
When Shasuryu scanned the crowd and saw that most of them had finished, he drew his huge sword and pointed toward the gate.
“To war!”
“Raaaaaaagh!” Their roars thundered in the air.
3
Stationed on the marsh, the Great Tomb of Nazarick’s army was split broadly into two corps. On the left, facing the lizardmen, were the zombies, and on the right, the skeletons. The skeleton archers and riders were positioned behind the front line on the right. The undead beasts, perhaps meant as the final line, were placed in the rear.
Meanwhile, the lizardmen were also divided into two battalions, despite being a small army. On the zombie side were the females and hunters. On the skeleton side were the warriors and males. The priests were inside the walls.
The lizardmen had come out of the village because they knew fighting a siege battle wouldn’t give them any advantage. Reinforcements weren’t coming, and their walls were far from sturdy. Meanwhile, the enemy army consisted of undead that needed neither food nor sleep.
At such a disadvantage, fighting under siege would have been the most foolish plan.
But forming ranks on the field gave the lizardmen a harsh awakening as to just how wide the gap in military strength was between the two sides. There were more than three undead for every one of them. More than thirty for every ten. The ratio didn’t change, but three thousand to one thousand felt overwhelming. The mere sight of three thousand undead forming ranks was strangely oppressive.
Still, even under those circumstances, the lizardmen were no longer afraid. Numbers were not an issue now that their ancestral spirits had descended.
Eventually, the undead slowly began to move. The first ones to march were the zombies and skeletons. Perhaps meant to serve as reinforcements, the skeleton archers and riders stood immobile in the marsh.
The lizardmen moved to meet them. “Yaaaaaaagh!” A thunderous battle cry echoed across the marsh. Along with it came the sound of countless splashes. Water sprayed and mud spattered.
With both armies on the march, their clash was imminent—and something unusual happened within Nazarick’s army. Although the zombies and skeletons had begun marching at the same time, a gap gradually opened up between them; zombies moved sluggishly while skeletons were quick. On top of that, the marsh bogged them down. Slow-moving monsters like zombies were sucked into the mud, which slowed them further, but lightweight monsters like skeletons weren’t affected as much.
This led to the first clash happening between the skeletons and the warrior caste.
The lizardmen had no formation. They just charged in recklessly and attacked with wild abandon. At the front of the pack were the five head warriors. These champions rushed out first. In some cases, leading from the front wasn’t a very tactically sound decision, but they were the highestranking lizardman warriors—if they didn’t fight out front, morale would suffer. This way, all the lizardman warriors were inspired and overflowing with fighting spirit.
The next to charge were the Razor Tail tribe’s eighty-nine heavy warriors. They had the highest defense out of any tribe’s warriors, clad in leather armor and even equipped with leather shields. They held up their shields, and their lines met the skeleton forces like a contiguous wall.
With a crash, the skeleton vanguard joined battle with the lizardman front lines.
And then—bones scattered as the lizardmen cut deep into the skeleton formation. Angry roars thundered, and the sound of breaking bones rang out again and again. At times, there were groans as the living warriors fell, but the clatter of bones greatly outnumbered them.
At a glance, the battle overwhelmingly favored the lizardmen. If they had been humans, perhaps the situation would have been reversed. Since skeletons had bone bodies, they were practically immune to stabbing weapon damage and had high resistance to cutting weapons. For humans, who primarily used swords, it would have been difficult to deal damage effectively. The reason the lizardmen had such an advantage was due to their unrefined primary weapons like maces made of rocks. Skeletons were vulnerable against crushing weapons.
Every time a lizardman swung, brittle skeleton bones crumbled. Even if they could stand one hit, they’d be completely demolished by the next. Meanwhile, the lizardmen’s thick scales often deflected the skeletons’ rusty swords. Occasionally one of the warriors was injured, but not so critically that it was life-threatening.
In this first skirmish alone, almost five hundred skeletons sank to their final resting place in the marsh.
•
Cocytus was dumbfounded by what he saw in the mirror.
This was still just the first wave of attack, but the ability of the lizardmen was beyond what he’d expected. Cocytus was a brilliant warrior, and he had been able to anticipate their strength to some degree. Certainly the gap in individual aptitude between skeletons and lizardmen was obvious—a lone skeleton had no chance of beating a lone lizardman—but he thought that such a numerical advantage more than compensated for that.
Then what had happened? It almost seemed like the lizardmen had powered up somehow. The way they were now, probably only the skeleton archers and riders could match them.
Even as he watched, the skeletons rapidly crumbled. SO THE ONLY PURPOSE THE SKELETONS AND ZOMBIES SERVE IS TO TIRE THEM OUT? In that case, his only effective units were the three hundred undead beasts, the one hundred and fifty skeleton archers, and the hundred skeleton riders—only five hundred and fifty. It was a reversal in numbers.
Cocytus did some calculations in his head. Undead were strong. Especially in a protracted battle, there weren’t so many who could defeat them. Undead didn’t feel fear, pain, or anything. Fatigue was also a nonfactor, and they didn’t require sleep. It went without saying how much of an advantage that became during a war.
Suppose one were hit in the head with a stone mace. That would mean instant death for a living thing, if it’s unlucky, but even with luck, there would be severe pain and a lot of bleeding. It’s a self-evident truth that it would very quickly lose the will to fight. Of course, there were soldiers who underwent training to withstand pain and wouldn’t give up so quickly, but for most, that would be their breaking point. That was only natural for a living thing.
But what about an undead?
If its head was cracked open? It would attack with its brains spilling out.
Its arms were broken? It would attack with its broken arms.
No legs? It would crawl.
Indeed, an undead would continue to move until it lost every remnant of its false life. As long as the conditions for instant death weren’t met—often decapitation for lower-level undead—they wouldn’t succumb to pain like humans did. In that sense, undead were the ideal soldiers.
THE LIZARDMEN HAVE BESTED THEM ON AN INDIVIDUAL LEVEL—I’LL ADMIT THAT. BUT HOW LONG CAN THAT LAST? Cocytus raised his opinion of the lizardmen up a notch and concluded that it wouldn’t be possible to crush them all at once. What he needed to do was draw out the battle.
“SHOULD WE PULL BACK AND SEE HOW WE’RE DOING?”
“That seems like a good idea.”
“I think we should send the archers and riders out there.”
“Nah, nah, keep pushing like we are now and wait until they’re exhausted.”
“And then what? If we don’t take the enemy base, they’ll just go there to recover and that’ll be that.”
“That’s true. It seems like they’ve strengthened their defenses, but those walls are flimsy. Why don’t we sack that village, then encircle their forces and annihilate them?”
Having gotten input from a number of minions, Cocytus picked up a Message scroll. He glanced at Entoma.
She was looking with disinterest at the mirror. She had brought something like a green cookie up near her jaw. Soon after came light crunching noises. Her attitude suggested she thought none of this was her concern. Perhaps that explained her expressionless face.
NO, THAT’S JUST FOR LOOKS. He recalled her true form and realized how foolish he was for checking her expression. Cocytus’s friend and one of the five most-evil beings in Nazarick, the Prince of Fear, called her a “most horrible” predator of his relatives. That was her true nature.
He gave up on trying to grasp the feelings of their master (who must have been the reason she was there) from her face and used the scroll to Message the commander.
“Are they underestimating us?” Zenbel murmured. His voice was low, but from where he was, getting a view from the top of the mud wall, it was loud enough that everyone could hear him.
“The archers and riders haven’t budged!” complained Zenbel. “All I can think is that they’re mocking us.”
“Yeah. I figured they’d come all at once to crush us…,” said the Small Fang chief.
“Zombie fight…going well.”
There were only forty-five lizardmen facing the zombies, mostly consisting of the few hunters. They repeatedly threw rocks and retreated. And little by little, they were leading them farther away from the skeletons. The females had moved to dig into the skeletons’ flank.
“Their movements are kinda strange.”
“Seriously.”
The zombies were moving less like they were following orders and more like they were just completely distracted. Was there a commander who would approve of their troops moving like that? No, that was out of the question.
But that was how they were moving. So was it part of the enemy’s plan? Everyone racked their brains.
“I just don’t get it.”
“Yup, agree…Shasuryu.”
No matter how hard they thought, they couldn’t come up with any meaning the zombies’ actions could possibly have.
After watching everyone for a while, Zaryusu told them what he thought. “Could it be there’s no commander?”
“No commander…? Oh, you mean like they were just given initial orders and are following those only?”
“Yeah, like that.”
Lower-tier undead like zombies and skeletons, for all intents and purposes, had no intelligence of their own. It was most effective to give them orders in real time. It seemed like in this instance the zombies had only been given the order to kill nearby lizardmen.
“So they think they can win as long as they outnumber us? Or could this fight just be a test to see how long they can last with no commander?” said Zenbel.
“Maybe.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Those bastards!” The one who had yelled wasn’t Zenbel but Shasuryu. Even he couldn’t take this sitting down. They were all risking their lives.
“Do you mind calming down, Shasuryu? It’s not like that’s for sure what’s going on,” said the Small Fang chief.
“Yeah, sorry… I’m glad things are going well.”
“Right, brother. For now, we just have to cut down their numbers as much as we can.”
Combat fatigue wasn’t something to sniff at. In a melee fight, the mental wear and tear was unimaginable. On a battlefield, where they could be attacked from any direction, just swinging their weapons a few times would cause double the exhaustion.
But the undead didn’t feel that. They would just keep attacking without rest.
The more time passed, the more obvious that gap between the living and the dead would become.
In other words, time was the lizardmen’s enemy.
“Tch, I should be out there.”
“Contain…self, Zenbel.”
Certainly if they brought out Zenbel’s powerful arm, the skeletons would be gone in no time. But that would mean showing their hand. Zaryusu and the other five had to remain as trump cards. Of course, they would go if they were truly out of options, but otherwise they needed to keep their potential to themselves until a really strong enemy appeared.
“But it’s quite convenient for us that they aren’t coming this way,” said Zaryusu, garnering agreement. Then he asked Crusch, “Are things going okay on your end?”
“…Yes, the ritual is going fine,” she answered, looking into the village. The priests were currently conducting a ritual that had the potential to give the lizardmen another trump card. Normally it would take an extremely long time, but with all the priests from each tribe cooperating, they would finish in time to use it during the battle.
“…It’s amazing what we can accomplish when we work together.”
“Hmm…yeah. After the war we shared just a little bit of information, but…this time, after the fight is over, there are so many more things I want to do.”
The other chiefs nodded emphatically at Shasuryu’s remark. This was the first time they were exchanging and pooling knowledge, and they could clearly see how much it would help all the tribes to grow. The realization hit hardest for the three chiefs who had allied before yet never exchanged knowledge.
Zaryusu looked at the five chiefs and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” asked Crusch.
“Nah, I mean, I know it’s a bad time, but I’m just happy.”
Crusch instantly understood how he felt. “I get it, Zaryusu.”
Zaryusu crinkled his eyes, as if Crusch’s smile were the sun itself. Both their gazes were full of longing and affection.
Their bodies were separated. Of course they were. At this very moment, there were lizardmen going to their deaths. They couldn’t answer the feelings in their hearts while that was going on. But their tails were moving with minds of their own, poking and drawing back.
“Mph…”
“Whaddaya make of it, big bro?”
“They’re in their own world.”
“Steamy.”
“My conclusion: It’s great to be young. You have a future.”
The four older lizardmen nodded as they watched the cute couple.
Of course, Zaryusu and Crusch could hear them talking. As their tails whipped around, they got their expressions under control.
“Brother, they’re on the move.”
The change of topic was so fast Shasuryu and the others grinned awkwardly as they turned their attention to the enemy army. The skeleton riders had set out on a big curve.
“Whoa, whoa, are they coming this way?”
“With the riders? Are they trying to unsettle us by attacking this position?”
“No, aren’t they trying to get around the rear of the warriors and males to surround and wipe them out?”
This is bad.
Without saying it, everyone reached the same conclusion. The skeleton
riders were a problem.
If they had moved right away, the lizardmen could have crushed them. But now the warriors and males were in a melee battle, the hunters were drawing the zombies away, and the females had begun hurling rocks at the skeletons’ flank. The lizardmen didn’t have the force to suppress the skeleton riders now.
“Maybe it’s time for us to move.”
Shasuryu nodded at the Small Fang chief’s idea. “The question is who should go. Yeah, it’s time to make our first move.”
•
Skeleton riders—or skeletons equipped with lances mounted on similarly bony horses. They didn’t have any special powers aside from how easy they were to deploy, but their mobility in the marsh was outstanding. Since their bony bodies didn’t sink very far into the mud, they were able to move at a horse’s pace.
The hundred units took a long detour to arrive behind the lizardmen for a rear assault.
They detected the figures of three lizardmen coming toward them up ahead on the left, but they ignored them. The newcomers to the battle weren’t included in their orders, so until they were attacked, they wouldn’t have anything to do with them. That was just how undead with no intelligence operated.
They had nearly reached the back of the lizardman army when the rider out in front found his vision spinning wildly. The skeleton had been thrown high into the air, falling swiftly into the marsh.
A human would’ve been confused and unable to act right away, but the unintelligent, undead skeleton rider promptly moved to carry out its orders. It stood up immediately but did stumble from the heavy damage.
Another rider went tumbling into the first, and the two units’ bones broke apart and scattered into the marsh.
This was happening here and there on the marsh, but why?
The answer was extremely simple: traps. The lizardmen had buried wooden boxes in the water. When the horses stepped into them, their momentum caused them to trip.
Skeleton riders went tumbling one after another. Humans would have slowed down or taken some kind of countermeasure, but these riders did not. They might have had the judgment to detour around a gaping hole but not to guard against hidden traps—such thinking was outside the scope of their orders, and they didn’t have the intelligence to adapt to their situation.
Maintaining their speed and charging straight into the traps was like mass suicide. Still, although the traps were effective, all they did was slow them down. They dealt some damage, but it wasn’t enough to destroy them. The riders scattered around just picked their muddied selves up.
Then a sharp whistling sound rang out, and one of the fallen skeleton riders’ heads exploded.
Detecting a hostile party, the riders scanned the area.
Then another head shattered like glass.
The riders discovered the three lizardmen at a distance of a little over eighty-five yards—and that it was rocks launched with pinpoint accuracy from their slings that were knocking off their heads. The skeleton riders advanced.
At the same time, the battle with the skeletons on the ground was reaching a turning point. After the twang of a great many bows came the sound of arrows raining down. The one hundred and fifty skeleton archers fired the bolts over lizardmen and skeletons alike. It wasn’t over with one volley; there was a second, a third…
This attack took the lizardmen by surprise. Several were hit and crumpled to the ground. They couldn’t protect themselves against the cascade while in combat with the skeletons.
Of course, the arrows hit the skeletons, too, but they didn’t take damage. While the piercing damage-resistant skeletons pushed forward, the skeleton archers loosed their arrows from behind. It was a brilliant maneuver. Considering the time it would take to completely obliterate a 2,200-strong vanguard in order to reach the archers, this should have doomed the lizardmen.
The problem was that it came too late. If they had carried out this plan in the beginning of the battle, it would have proven fatal for the lizardmen. They would have been overwhelmed by the numerical disparity, and the battle would have ended differently. But now the outcome was already decided.
The lizardmen ignored the skeletons, having already whittled their numbers, and charged directly at the archers. One hundred and fifty arrows rained down, and several lizardmen collapsed into the mud—but not all of them.
Lizardmen had thick skin and tough scales. Even without armor, they had the same defenses as a human in leather armor. Even if an arrow pierced their skin, their thick muscles would save their life.
Part of the reason fewer fell was that the skeleton archers didn’t have a great deal of strength for drawing their bows. The force behind their attacks wasn’t enough to kill a lizardman.
With battle cries, the lizardmen fearlessly pushed through. When the deadly barrage came a second time, they protected their heads with their arms. They ran for their lives as the hail of missiles pierced skin and tore through bodies.
A third volley…
That was about all the skeleton archers could do. If they’d had any intelligence, they probably would have retreated. If they had fallen back temporarily and fought cohesively with the rest of the remaining undead army, there might have been a way for them to retain their usefulness in the fray.
However, they lacked the brains that allowed for such a complicated directive, and in any case, those orders had never been given. They followed the simple orders they had—and continued shooting arrows at the lizardmen even when they were practically on top of one another.
A war cry went up, and a wave of lizardmen swallowed the skeleton archers just like it had the skeletons. The long range fighters didn’t have any room to use their bows. They fell into the soggy earth under the lizardmen attacks. There were still zombies remaining, but almost all the skeletons had been defeated.
This was when a new enemy was finally unleashed—the undead beasts. They were undead made from the corpses of a variety of animals like wolves, snakes, boars—monsters that combined zombie endurance with animal dexterity.
The undead beasts headed straight for the lizardmen. Some were fast, some were slow—it was a disjointed charge with no sense of rank or formation.
Attacks that came from below were surprisingly hard to dodge. The beasts employed the animal-like method of biting at their enemies’ ankles to slow and drag them down before dealing the final blow.
For the lizardmen, who were already tired, this was a problem indeed. A number of them who were slow to react had their throats ripped out. When a comrade fell at a warrior’s side, it didn’t matter if they’d braced themselves mentally or if they believed the ancestral spirits were with them—they couldn’t deny that their morale was shaken.
The head warriors fought at the front of the line, but the pressure was gradually increasing; it was only a matter of time before the lizardman lines broke, and they routed. It was at that moment when the marsh rippled with excitement.
Two cones of mud standing a little over five feet high with no arms, legs, or heads appeared…
…and began to move.
Though they had no feet, they moved nimbly across the marsh, gliding, advancing on the undead beasts. Once they’d gotten closer, they reached out whiplike appendages, longer than the mud creatures were tall, from about where the arms would have been on a person.
These were one of the lizardmen’s trump cards, which the priests had combined their powers to summon: swamp elementals.
The swamp elementals plowed into the pack of undead beasts, struck with their whiplike tentacles, and yanked some of them off the ground. Of course, the undead beasts countered, scratching with their claws and biting with their fangs.
Both sides were fearless in the fray, but gradually it became clear the swamp elementals had the advantage. It was simply a matter of an imbalance in individual potential.
The power of their own priests was winning against the undead. Seeing this restored the courage of the lizardmen warriors, and they took up the charge once more.
Thus began a gruesome brawl. In this battle, unlike the one with the skeletons up till now, numerous lizardmen lost their lives. But the lizardmen held the numerical advantage now, and the balance of battle began to tip in their favor.
•
WE’RE GOING TO LOSE.
Cocytus understood that. None of the undead in the troops he was given had intelligence. That was why they’d lost, and he’d been afraid of that since the beginning. But he hadn’t expected them to be so weak.
He was bothered by how shallow his thinking had been. There was a way to turn this around, but it wasn’t a good one. Using that method was practically a synonym for defeat.
But could he really report to his master that they had lost? Cocytus grabbed a Message scroll. The one to call in this situation was…
“IS THIS DEMIURGE?”
“Yes, my friend. What in the world happened that you would send me a Message?”
Demiurge’s deep, calm voice echoed in Cocytus’s head. As one of Nazarick’s top minds, Demiurge would surely have a good idea.
It was frustrating to go for help to someone who, in a way, was a rival, but he had to avoid defeat at all costs. The army of the Great Tomb of Nazarick? Lose?! To avoid that fate, he would bow his head as low as it took.
“ACTUALLY…”
Demiurge listened silently to Cocytus’s explanation about his present situation that used up a whole scroll, and he heaved an annoyed sigh. “And what do you want me to do about that?”
“I WANT YOU TO LEND ME YOUR WISDOM. AT THIS RATE, WE’LL BE DEFEATED. IF IT WERE JUST ME LOSING, I WOULD ACCEPT IT, BUT I CAN’T DISGRACE THE GREAT TOMB OF NAZARICK AND THE SUPREME ONES.”
“…Does Lord Ainz even want you to win?”
“HUH? WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?”
“Why did he build an army of such low-tier minions?”
Cocytus had been wondering the same thing. He didn’t see any reason to build an army out of the weakest minions the Great Tomb of Nazarick had to offer.
“HE MUST HAVE HAD SOME IDEA, BUT WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS HE TRYING TO DO?”
“I have a few guesses.”
I KNEW YOU WOULD. Cocytus didn’t say it aloud, but he definitely had quite a bit of respect for the demon.
“So…Cocytus. You’ve been there for some days. Before attacking, you should have gathered some intelligence on the lizardmen, right?”
That should have been a given. However…
“BUT LORD AINZ ORDERED ME TO TAKE THEM OUT WITH THE ARMY HE PROVIDED IN A HEAD-ON FIGHT.”
“Yeah, but I want you to think for a minute, Cocytus. Isn’t the most important thing the results you’ll offer to Lord Ainz? If your main objective was to obliterate the village, shouldn’t you have searched for the best way to do that?”
Cocytus had no words to reply with. Demiurge’s comments were right on the money.
“He must have had that in mind when giving you those minions.”
“…HE GAVE ME A FORCE THAT COULDN’T WIN ON PURPOSE?”
“There’s certainly a very good chance. If you had collected intelligence, you might have realized that you didn’t have sufficient force to take out the village. Then you would have been able to report back and say, ‘Lord Ainz, annihilating them will be difficult with these troops. I need stronger troops.’ Perhaps that was his aim?”
In other words, he should have verified his master’s true intent—not just followed orders but adjusted the operation at his discretion and then acted. That’s what Demiurge was saying.
“It was probably to make you more conscious of these things. I’m sure he had other aims as well, but…”
“OTHER AIMS?” Cocytus asked, flustered. He’d already made one error. He didn’t want to make any more.
“He sent a messenger to the villages, but he never mentioned Nazarick’s name. And he told you not to show yourself. That means—”
Cocytus swallowed hard, hanging on Demiurge’s every word. But the next ones didn’t come.
“Ngh! Sorry, Cocytus. Something urgent’s come up. Sorry, but that’s all. I’m hoping for your victory!” Demiurge cut the conversation short, and the Message spell disappeared.
With some idea of what would make level-headed Demiurge panic, Cocytus shifted his gaze to the other person in the room. Entoma was carelessly removing a beat-up talisman from her forehead.
For a talisman wielder to use one now meant…everything was too late.
It was time to unleash the monster he’d been told to save as a last resort. But was that really what his master wanted him to do?
Cocytus, for perhaps the first time, thought carefully about what intentions might have been hidden in the orders he was given. But in the end, there was only one conclusion to draw.
Cocytus cast Message. “AN ORDER FOR YOU, ELDER LICH COMMANDER: MOVE OUT. SHOW THE LIZARDMEN YOUR POWER.”
His body of skin and bones was wrapped in a splendid but old robe, and in one hand, he clutched a gnarled staff. His rotting face, with just a bit of skin stretched over the bones, spoke of dark wisdom. Negative energy rose off his body and hung around him like a mist. This undead caster was an elder lich.
He received the order from Cocytus and glanced at the marsh. Then he gave an order to the flabby, red-skinned undead immediately behind him—bloodmeat hulks who had been created in the same way he had.
“Slay those three lizardmen.”
Following the order, two hulks began walking toward the three lizardmen who had wiped out the riders. They were low-tier undead who could use their muscular strength only to punch, but they had regeneration abilities, so it would take a while for an opponent in the same level range to beat them with simple physical attacks.
The elder lich decided they’d be able to buy him enough time.
Certainly, this was a poor plan. As a caster, the elder lich wasn’t terribly strong in a close-quarters fight. Having the bloodmeat hulks attend to him would have been the smart strategy.
But he couldn’t do that.
The order he was given was to show his power. That meant he needed to use his overwhelming might to devastate the lizardman base on his own.
As he walked, the elder lich crumpled his horrifying face in a chuckle. It was so simple.
As an elder lich created by the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown, he was far stronger than Nazarick’s auto-spawning elder liches. All he had to do was display that power.
He swore on the name given him by his master that he would be victorious. “I, Iguvua, will bring victory to the Supreme One.”
4
The lizardmen, shoulders slumping in fatigue, heaved a sigh of relief after finishing off the undead beasts. Despite hearts pained with sorrow, they wore faint smiles.
It was true that more than a few of them had been injured or killed, but they were lucky that was all. If the swamp elementals hadn’t joined the battle—no, if they had even showed up a little bit later—their line would have broken and everything probably would have fallen apart.
“Let’s go.” It was the voice of one of the head warriors announcing the next round.
Everyone’s bodies were heavy with exhaustion. They could barely hold their weapons and swinging them was a chore, but the fight wasn’t over yet.
The zombies were a ways away, but the warriors still had to mop them up, and they had to stay on the lookout after that.
“Okay, carry the heavily injured to the village. Everyone else, follow—” His command was interrupted by a blaze of hellfire.
The heat wave pummeled the area, and at the center of the flames, the two elementals reeled. The flames vanished as if they had never existed, and the elementals were in shambles. With just one attack, they were half-destroyed. The second round of flames leaped up before the lizardmen had time to cry out in shock. Unable to withstand it, the bodies of the elementals collapsed and melted away inside the fire.
The lizardmen were unable to wrap their heads around the sudden annihilation of elementals that had been so effective against the undead beasts.
What happened?
Despite acknowledging that the swamp elementals had been wiped out, they desperately refused to understand it. This meant that something even more powerful than two swamp elementals had arrived.
The lizardmen scanned the area with ***** confusion and fear. The moment they laid eyes on the lone undead in the distance, it loosed another magical attack from its hand.
The fireball, about as big as a human’s head, followed a straight path through the air and crashed into the lizardmen on the front lines.
Usually, throwing water on fire would put it out. But phenomena brought about by the laws of magic, even such everyday phenomena, were different. The moment the fireball hit the water, the area went up in flames as if the swamp were a hard floor.
The expanding conflagration engulfed several lizardmen and disappeared.
An illusion—the flames vanished abruptly enough to make them doubt their sight. But the smell of burned flesh hanging in the air and the crumpled forms of lizardmen on the ground were no illusions.
The undead advanced slowly. His manner was so elegant that it seemed to overflow with arrogance. It was the gait of one who was confident in his power.
Should we make a decisive charge like we did against the skeleton archers? While the lizardmen mulled it over, another fireball went flying.
It exploded, and the lives of the lizardmen in the area were snuffed out instantaneously.
This was truly overwhelming power; it was as if everything up until now had been a game.
“Yaaaagh!” A war cry went up, an attempt to shake off the fear. The moment several lizardmen prepared to charge, an icy voice echoed out impossibly close.
“Fools!”
Just a single word. The fireball burned up its victims before they could even cry out.
The undead swayed, and the several hundred lizardmen took a step back, forced by the wall that was the difference between their own power and the truly powerful.
“Let’s get out of here!” someone, one of the head warriors, shouted in a quavering voice. “This enemy’s different from the others! We don’t stand a chance!”
Obviously. It was coming at them on its own. The lizardmen could feel the pressure, like an overwhelming wind, on their skin.
“You guys go back and report to the chiefs and Zaryusu!”
“We’ll buy you time!”
The fireball burst, and a few lizardmen fell.
“Run! And tell them!”
The five head warriors let the others retreat to the village and judged the distance between them and the enemy, figuring in the area of effect of the exploding fireballs. Basically, they wanted at least one of them to reach the enemy. They would face death for this objective.
They exchanged looks from their spaced-out positions and set off sprinting.
The distance was around a hundred yards. A hundred despair-inducing yards, but they still advanced. Even if they were defeated on their way, at least they would leave behind some intelligence for Zaryusu and the chiefs who were surely watching behind them.
The lizardmen who had pressed forward now ran home, scattering like baby spiders.
Zaryusu watched calmly. No, he’d been paying attention ever since the immensely powerful enemy had appeared, the undead that sowed fiery death. Its movements were different from the unintelligent enemies they’d faced so far. This was probably the commander.
When it had reached an estimated hundred yards from the lizardmen, it intercepted them with fireball area-of-effect attacks, and the head warriors who had attempted a five-pronged charge were all burned to death on their way.
“It looks like we’re up.”
Zaryusu nodded at Zenbel, and Crusch also indicated her agreement. Now they might be the ones to die, but they had to throw themselves into the fray.
“Yeah, no doubt about it, this is where we come in. That kind of power… There’s a very good chance this is the Great One’s right-hand man, the commander of this army. Even if it’s not, it must be their trump card.”
“Yeah. There’s no way they’d be able to control multiple undead of that strength. But how should we approach it? It’s too far away.”
Zaryusu racked his brain to answer Crusch’s question. They weren’t fighting to die, so they needed a plan. Zaryusu and Zenbel couldn’t fight at a distance. They had to make it a close-quarters fight. The problem was that hundred yards.
Certainly they were capable of withstanding a fireball or two. But it would be more than one or two by the time they reached the enemy, and the fight would begin in earnest only once they did. It wasn’t hard to see that if they faced that inferno head-on in their advance, they’d be overpowered in the end.
“That distance is a real bummer.”
“Yeah…it sure is. I never would have thought a hundred yards could feel so far…”
They discussed how to reach the undead without any injuries, or at least without too many.
“What if we swam under the water?”
“Even with priest powers…it’d be pretty hard. If we could use Invisibility…”
They could close the gap all at once if they could go invisible and use Fly, but druids weren’t able to acquire those spells.
“Then how about making shields and holding those in front of us while we get closer?”
“It will take too long to make shields.”
“We could just break some houses, no?” Zenbel smiled wryly, knowing even as he suggested it that his idea was no good. These magical attacks resulted in blistering explosions. Even if they blocked one direction, the heat would find its way around. They didn’t have time to build shields that would cover their entire bodies.
“Oh, hmm… That…we could do…”
“What, Zaryusu?” Crusch asked timidly, recoiling slightly.
Zaryusu wondered if she had seen the ruthlessness of his plan on his face, but he couldn’t help it. His idea was one he wished he could reject.
“No, I just…found a shield.”
•
Iguvua nodded, content with the present circumstances.
Things were going well. The two bloodmeat hulks were still fighting, but he was advancing on the village with no problems.
The lizardmen had seemed ready to charge a couple of times, but once he showed them his power, they seemed to realize how futile their resistance was. The five-man charge had probably gotten the closest, but even then, fifty yards had been their limit.
Iguvua walked silently forward as if he were crossing a deserted wasteland. He didn’t drop his guard against the lizardmen, even as he sneered at how weak they were.
There wasn’t much distance left between him and the village that was his objective. Upon reaching it, he intended to burn down the buildings with a rapid barrage of flames as he killed all the lizardmen.
But surely the enemy would rather he didn’t arrive. Then they need to start counterattacking soon. When he looked toward the village, he saw he was correct.
“Ohh? I see.”
He could see a single hydra. It began walking toward him.
If that was their trump card, laying it low with his overwhelming abilities would probably rob the lizardmen of their remaining will to fight. Then it would be even easier for him to destroy the village.
He checked his surroundings once, and up into the sky, to confirm there were no enemies, and then stopped and leisurely waited for the hydra to enter his space.
Right on the verge of being in range, it began to run—yes, at Iguvua.
“Fool. You think you can make it all the way over here with your slow feet? You’re nothing but an animal.****” Sneering, he formed a fireball in his hand and shot it at the hydra.
It flew in a straight line right for its target—a direct hit. Flames of crimson hellfire blazed up, licking the hydra’s entire body.
However, though it staggered, its feet didn’t stop moving. It kept running, engulfed in flames. No, the flames extinguished after a moment, so that must have been an illusion. The hydra’s extraordinary willpower only made Iguvua feel like that was what he saw.
Iguvua frowned in displeasure. The creature had withstood one of his attacks. That deeply hurt his pride.
It did seem like the hydra had a defensive spell cast on its body to reduce energy damage, but it wasn’t a high-level spell that could completely nullify his magic.Hydras have quick-acting healing abilities, but it shouldn’t work against fire… Either way, if it’s a magical beast, it must be overflowing with life force, so I guess it makes sense it could withstand one attack? Iguvua decided, to comfort himself. Still, that didn’t completely extinguish the flames of his rage. Iguvua was specially created by the Supreme One, Ainz Ooal Gown. Taking his hit without dying was tantamount to insulting his master.
Though inside he seethed with rage, Iguvua turned an ice-cold gaze on the hydra that was earnestly running toward him.
“What a bother. Die.” He shot another fireball at the hydra.
Hellfire roasted the hydra’s entire body, and even at this distance, Iguvua had the feeling he could smell burning flesh. He should have injured it enough that it would hesitate to keep coming, even if it didn’t die, but…
“Why don’t you stop? Why are you still coming at me?”
5
Rororo ran. He was gigantic, and the terrain was marshy, but he could sprint almost as fast as the lizardmen. He made huge splashing noises as he went.
His amber eyes were clouded from the heat, and two of his four heads were already limp.
Still, he ran on.
Another fireball came flying and hit him. The fuel inside flared up all at once, and the flames licked his body. He felt throbbing pain like he was being punched over and over, his eyes dried up, and the hot air burned his lungs.
The ache from his full-body burns and the searing pain from earlier that still hadn’t abated warned him: He would die if he took another hit.
Still, he ran.
He ran.
And ran.
His feet never stopping, one in front of another. His scales peeled off in the heat, and blood erupted as the skin beneath crinkled and curled up. Even then, he didn’t stop.
If he were a witless beast, he would have naturally turned tail and fled. But Rororo didn’t flee.
Yes, Rororo was a magical beast, a hydra. Some magical beasts were smarter than humans, while some were no more intelligent than any other animal. Rororo was more like the latter.
It was mysterious—a wonder—that Rororo with his animal brain, on the verge of death, would continue to rush toward Iguvua, who was causing him pain.
In fact, his enemy Iguvua couldn’t understand it. He even considered that the beast might have been manipulated by some kind of magic.
But that wasn’t it.
No, it was something else.
Something Iguvua couldn’t understand.
Rororo, with no more intelligence than an animal, was running for his family.
Rororo didn’t know his parents’ faces. It wasn’t that hydras abandoned their young; babies lived with one parent until a certain age, learning the skills to survive in nature. So why hadn’t that been the case for Rororo?
It was because he was deformed. Usually hydras were born with eight heads, and as they aged, they grew more, sometimes as many as twelve. But Rororo was born with just four, so his parents abandoned him and took only his siblings with them.
As a newborn hydra without parents to care for him—regardless of how big he had the potential to grow up to be—in the unforgiving wild, it would only be a matter of time before his young life was extinguished…
…except a male lizardman happened to pass by and pick him up.
That was when Rororo gained a mother, father, and childhood friend all in one.
Through the pain, with his numb mind, Rororo hazily recalled something he was always wondering. Why am I so big? Why do I have all these heads? He thought about this sometimes when he looked at his dad—his family. And he had an idea: Maybe these extra heads will fall off, and I’ll grow arms and legs long like grass, and I’ll look like Dad.
And then what would they do?
Oh. We’ll sleep together for the first time in so long. He’d gotten so big that they ended up sleeping in different places. That made him just a little lonely.
Flames filled Rororo’s field of vision, blowing his thoughts away, and searing pain pummeled him again. He emitted a feeble cry. There was no longer any place he didn’t hurt terribly. A sense of peaceful warmth came from behind him, but it felt so weak to his scorched body.
He endured the pain like being bashed with innumerable hammers.
It hurt so much, too much; he couldn’t think.
His legs became frantic, unending spasms signaling him, telling him to stop.
But…
But! Did Rororo stop moving his legs?
No, he did not.
He advanced. Yes, his speed had slowed to a crawl. The flames burned his flesh, pulled at his muscles. It was impossible to run at his usual pace.
Even taking a step forward was unbearable.
It hurt to breathe. Just trying to inhale one more gasp of air was difficult. It was possible his lungs were burned.
Still, his feet would not stop.
Now only one of his heads was moving. The others were nothing more than dead weight. In his clouded field of vision, he could make out the undead conjuring another fireball in his hand.
Rororo’s instincts screamed at him—I will die if this attack connects. But Rororo was not afraid. Forward, forward, he moved single-mindedly forward…
He’d been asked to do this by his mother-father-friend, so there was no way he could stop.
He desperately—staggering slowly, his energy spent—advanced a few more steps, when the undead loosed the crimson flames through the sky toward him.
They would burn up the rest of Rororo’s life. It was undeniable.
In other words, death.
The end of everything…
Except…
Yes, except that male was here…
Would he let this happen?
This absurdity?
Not in a million years.
“Icy Burst!” Zaryusu jumped out from behind Rororo and, running parallel to him, swung Frost Pain at the same time he shouted. A wall of white frost appeared in front of Rororo, as if the air itself had frozen starting from the tip of Zaryusu’s sword. It was frigid, a wintry torrent brought forth by Frost Pain.
This was one of the magical sword’s abilities, a special move that could be used only three times per day, Icy Burst. It could chill everything in the area and cause massive damage.
The wall that Zaryusu whipped up blocked the fireball as if it had physical strength. A jewel of fire and a wall of cold air—magical logic made it appropriate that these two should clash.
Impact.
The fierce battle between flame and frost began. The two devoured each other like cannibal snakes of red and white. After an instant of equilibrium, they both faded.
The undead was shocked and visibly panicked. That was the most apt attitude to have after his magic vanished.
There was still some distance between Zaryusu and Iguvua, but they could make out each other’s facial expressions and movements now. Rororo’s desperate march had brought the three lizardmen this far across the seemingly impossible distance unscathed.
“Rororo…” Zaryusu got choked up for a moment. Of all the countless things that came to mind to say, he chose one that was extremely concise and pure.
“Thank you!”
With that shout, Zaryusu ran forward without turning to look back at Rororo. Crusch and Zenbel followed immediately after. Behind them, a nearly fainting voice replied—a cheer for his family.
•
Iguvua’s eyes widened. His fireball had been negated. He expressed his disbelief in words: “This can’t be!”
He cast another spell. Of course, it was Fireball. He didn’t want to admit that the one who had erased his spell was the lizardman currently charging his way.
The fireball raced toward the three lizardmen.
The one out in front swung his sword and created an icy wall to repel it, and both spells disappeared. Yes, it was the same thing that had happened before.
“Shoot as many as you want! I’ll erase them all!” he heard the lizardman shout.
Iguvua clicked his tongue in annoyance.I was created by the Supreme One, Lord Ainz! How can this reptile scum block my magic?! He frantically calmed his mind, seething with rage.
There was an extremely good chance that Fireball wouldn’t work against them anymore, but the fact that they had approached by hiding behind the hydra meant there had to be some kind of limit on how many times that spell could be used. Maybe he could use it ten times. Maybe each use consumed some of his health, so as long as he healed he could use it an infinite amount of times.
How should I deal with this? If possible, I want to find out if what he said is true…
Iguvua could still shoot plenty of fireballs, but he couldn’t tell if the lizardman was bluffing or not.
They were only forty yards apart. Also, as far as he could tell, the lizardmen approaching him were warriors. As a caster, he didn’t want a close-quarters fight.
That was why he couldn’t use Fireball. He wasn’t foolish enough to try and see how many more they could block under these circumstances. If they hadn’t been behind the hydra, if they weren’t so close, he might have tried experimenting. But his chances for that had been ruined by that pesky hydra.
“You…damned hydra…” Iguvua spat and decided to make his next move. “How about this?”
Luckily for him, everyone just happened to be in a straight line. He pointed a finger at the three rapidly approaching lizardmen. Shocks sparked around it. “Take this—and taste my thundering wrath! Lightning!” White lightning streaked across space. And then—
Even at a distance, he could see it—the white light coming from Iguvua’s hand, Lightning. Frost Pain’s Icy Burst could block chill and fire attacks, but Zaryusu had never tried using it against Lightning, so he wasn’t sure if the sword could block it or not. Should they take the risk? Or was it better to disperse, make themselves less of a target, and limit the number of injuries?
Zaryusu tensed the hand that held Frost Pain. The air felt like it was buzzing with electricity—proof that the shock was on its way.
“Leave this to meee!”
Before Zaryusu could make a decision, Zenbel rushed out in front with a shout. At almost the same time, the spell was cast.
“Lightning!”
“Yaaaargh! Massive Resistance!”
Right at the moment the lightning flowed into Zenbel’s body, he flexed his muscles. As a result, the bolt that normally would have passed through to the others scattered.
Massive Resistance—it was a monk ability. By radiating chi from their entire body for a moment, the user could reduce incoming magic damage.
This was something Zenbel had learned on the journey he took after being defeated by Frost Pain’s special attack, Icy Burst. Whether it was an area-ofeffect spell or any other kind, as long as it did damage, this ability would take effect on it.
Cries of surprise went up on both sides, but Crusch and Zaryusu, who believed in their friend, were only mildly surprised. They took advantage of the undead’s shock to invade his space.
I see, thought Zaryusu as he ran. If he had used Icy Burst back when they’d been fighting one-on-one, Zenbel probably would have blocked it using this move and defeated him in the opening created. That was why he’d invited him to use it.
“Ha-ha! This is a cinch!”
Zaryusu’s expression softened when he heard Zenbel sounding so confident, but an instant later he was tensed up again—he realized there was a hint of pain mixed into his voice.
If a male as strong as Zenbel wasn’t able to bite back the pain, the damage must have been pretty significant. And Zenbel wasn’t the type who would agree to the plan of having Rororo run out in front if his move defended him perfectly.
Zaryusu stared ahead. They were only twenty yards away. It had been such a long way, but this was all that was left.
As the party pressed in on him, Iguvua concluded that they were powerful opponents. He had to hand it to any ability that could block his magic. Of course, he still had other methods of attack, but he had to think about defense, too.
“A nice sacrifice, most suitable for showing them how mighty I am.” Iguvua grinned and cast a spell. “Summon Fourth-Tier Undead.”
The marsh belched, and four skeletons armed with round shields and scimitars stood up to protect him. They were skeleton warriors—undead so strong they couldn’t even be compared to regular skeletons.
There were other undead he could have summoned, but the reason he chose skeletal warriors was to elude the chill attacks. Iguvua and all bony skeletons had perfect resistance to chill.
Protected by his bodyguards, Iguvua watched the party’s approach with contempt. It was the attitude of a champion awaiting contenders. Eventually the distance between them closed.
Just ten yards. That was all that was left. Yes, that was all. Zaryusu made sure the undead wasn’t going to attack and looked over his shoulder…
…at the distance they’d traveled. Just to run it, a hundred yards was nothing, but this was a no-man’s-land with nowhere to hide. Rororo, Frost Pain, Zenbel, Crusch. If any one of those elements had been missing, it would have been impossible. An absolutely uncrossable distance. Now it was gone. The remaining gap could be closed if he reached out his hand. They’d been able to overcome it.
He felt just a little relieved seeing Rororo being carried back to the lizardman village, then scolded his buoyant heart and glared at the undead.
It was a horrible being. Zaryusu frankly acknowledged that. If he hadn’t encountered it in this situation and instead caught sight of it at a distance, he probably would have chosen to run away as fast as he could. Just confronting the thing made his tail stand on end, and his instincts told him to flee.
He could see out of the corners of his eyes that Crusch’s and Zenbel’s tails were also stiff. They must have felt the same as Zaryusu. Yes, they were suppressing their desire to flee in order to stand before the undead.
Zaryusu whapped their backs with his tail.
Startled, they both turned to him.
“We can do it,” Zaryusu whispered simply.
“You’re right, Zaryusu. We can do it,” Crusch answered, rubbing the spot where he’d whacked her with his tail.
“Hmph. It’ll be fun!” Zenbel laughed with a cocky look on his face.
Then the three of them advanced across the final stretch.
At a distance of eight yards…
Zaryusu and his friends, panting after their sprint, faced off against the undead, who didn’t breathe at all. The first to speak was their enemy.
“I am Iguvua, an elder lich in service of the Great One. If you bow your heads, I’ll grant you painless deaths.”
Zaryusu laughed in spite of himself—he saw that this undead, Iguvua, didn’t understand a thing.
There was only one way to reply.
Iguvua waited for their response without showing any displeasure at Zaryusu’s smile. He had the elite arrogance of one who knew he was strong, one who was confident he could kill them.
That arrogance had allowed them to close the final stretch, so Zaryusu was thankful for it.
“Let’s hear your response.”
“Heh-heh. You need a response?” Zaryusu held up Frost Pain and tightened his grip. Zenbel put up his fists and got into a peculiar fighting stance. Crusch didn’t move in a specific way, but she reached toward the reservoir of magic deep within herself so she would be able to cast at a moment’s notice. “Then here’s our response: We refuse!”
Judging that reply sufficiently hostile, the skeleton warriors raised their round shields and brandished their scimitars.
“Then pain-filled deaths it is. Know that you have rejected my final offer of mercy.”
“The dead should go back to the world of the dead, Iguvua!”
The decisive battle began.
•
“Go, Zaryusu!” Zenbel, who had charged faster than anyone, drove his huge arm into a skeleton warrior. Despite the fact that the skeleton warrior used its shield to block, he kept forcing his fist in. A huge dent formed in the shield, and the skeleton warrior backpedaled into another one and lost its balance. Then Zenbel used his tail to attack a different skeleton warrior but missed.
The skeleton warrior line broke, and Zaryusu slipped in through the opening.
“Stop him!”
At Iguvua’s order, two skeleton warriors swung their scimitars at Zaryusu.
He could have dodged if he wanted to. He could have also blocked with Frost Pain. But he didn’t do either of those things. Evading was, in a way, simply delaying his own actions. He couldn’t waste a move with Iguvua right in front of him.
And more than anything—
“Earth Bind!”
Mud whipped and wrapped around the two skeleton warriors. The mud whips stopped them like chains, giving Zaryusu just enough time to get through the gap.
—yes, Crusch was with him.
Zaryusu wasn’t fighting alone, so all he had to do was trust in his friends.
Crusch was a good caster, but her magic couldn’t stop their movements entirely. Their scimitars did barely graze Zaryusu’s body. But what did that matter? He was so exhilarated his brain didn’t sense the pain as pain.
He ran.
And he pointed at his target—Iguvua. Even if he were hit with attack magic, he would power through and reach him. That was how tough his will was.
“Know fear, you fools! Scare!”
Zaryusu’s field of vision wavered, and unable to comprehend where he was standing, he was assaulted by a vague anxiety, like something in the area was about to attack.
His feet slowed; the psychic spell Scare had shaken him so much that they wouldn’t move. His brain was screaming at his feet to go forward, but his heart wouldn’t move them.
“Zaryusu! Lion’s Heart!” At the sound of Crusch’s voice, his fear dissipated and his fighting spirit blazed at twice the intensity of before. The courage spell had canceled out his fear.
Iguvua glared at Crusch in displeasure and jabbed a finger at her. “How obnoxious! Lightning!”
White lightning flashed—
“Gyaagh!”
—and Crusch’s scream echoed.
As Zaryusu set off running again, hatred nearly overtook his heart, but he held it back. Certainly hate was a good weapon, but against someone strong, it could be a burden instead. Against a tough opponent, one needed emotions like fire and a mind like ice.
Zaryusu didn’t look back.
Iguvua had attacked Crusch, the rear guard. That meant that Zaryusu could close the gap between them during this time. The understanding that he’d made a mistake appeared on the undead’s face. That brought a sneer to Zaryusu’s, despite the fact that the female he loved had been injured.
“Tch! Ligh—”
“Too slow!” Zaryusu swung Frost Pain from the side with all his might and hit the hand Iguvua had been extending.
“Guh!”
“You let a warrior get up close, caster! Let me show you that you can’t use spells anymore!”
Perhaps it was different for the mages of legend, but in general, if an enemy closed in on a caster, there was a chance their spells would be prevented with an attack.
An immensely powerful monster like Iguvua was no exception.
Zaryusu narrowed his eyes a bit at the feeling traveling down his arm. A strange sensation had lingered when he cut. It meant Iguvua had some kind of weapon resistance.
Still, he wasn’t unharmed. Right. If he had some damage resistance, all Zaryusu had to do was deal more damage.
He just had to slice, and slice, and slice like crazy, that was all.
Of course, that was easier said than done. The saying was nothing new to Zaryusu. As a warrior, he could do only what he was capable of.
“Don’t underestimate me, lizardman!”
Three shots of light flew from before Iguvua’s face. Zaryusu was startled by the lack of casting motion and instinctively held his sword up as a shield, but the bolts of magic went by it and sent a heavy, dull pain through his body.
This was Silent Magic: Magic Arrow. Silent Magic didn’t have any preparation that could be hindered, and Magic Arrow was ordinarily impossible to evade. Even Zaryusu couldn’t dodge it.
Gritting his teeth, Zaryusu lashed out with Frost Pain.
“Guh! Damn you, lizardman!”
Magic Arrow may have been impossible to evade, but it didn’t do a terrible amount of damage, either. It wasn’t about to take someone like Zaryusu, who had punished his body to its limits, out of commission.
Another round hammered into him. The pain reverberated at his core. Zaryusu suppressed it and swung his sword.
This back-and-forth repeated a few times. Zaryusu gradually slowed. The ache was leeching the agility from his movements. The difference between him and the undead who knew no pain became obvious.
Both Zaryusu and Iguvua saw it, wearing contrasting expressions.
The strong would win and the weak would lose. That was the natural order of things. If Iguvua and Zaryusu fought, the results would be clear. However, it was also true that if the weak combined their powers, they could equal the strong.
“Middle Cure Wounds!” At the sound of the voice, Zaryusu’s pain disappeared and his energy returned to him.
Iguvua had been feeling confident, but the spell from the rear enraged him, and he shouted, “You damned lizardmen!”
Zaryusu was fighting with comrades he trusted. Crusch, Zenbel. And…
“Rororo…I won’t lose!”
“Nonsense! I was created by the Great One! There cannot be any defeat for me, you fools!” Iguvua’s eyes blazed with loathing for the three of them.
The reason he hadn’t used any summoning magic was that the undead from his last spell were still around. Until they were destroyed, he couldn’t summon any more. That was why they played out the same monotonous exchange—Iguvua shooting Silent Magic: Magic Arrow and Zaryusu slicing into Iguvua’s flesh. It seemed like the fight would go on forever.
Then the only thing to do was to leave the breakthrough to the ones fighting in the rear. The battle would be decided by whose reinforcements arrived first.
They both knew it.
Crusch pushed through the pain shooting through her body from the lightning and cast Summon Third-Tier Beast. A huge—almost five-foot— crab with a giant right pincer appeared with a loud splash. It showed up as if it had just been sleeping in the swamp, but of course, it had been summoned with the spell.
It advanced, stood next to Zenbel, and clobbered a skeleton warrior with its giant pincer.
Zenbel grinned at the unlikely backup. He was happy to have the help, since he was protecting Crusch while under attack from every direction.
“All right! Weird thing, take those two!”
The crab—a snap grasp—waved its smaller pincer as if to say, Understood! and turned to the skeleton warriors.
Hmm… We’re in this awful situation, but I can’t help but notice how similar they are. Although it felt out of place, Crusch smiled, but she wiped the expression off her face a moment later. Watching the battle, she struggled to keep her breathing even.
Between the defensive and healing spells on Rororo during their approach and the support spells for Zenbel, she had cast too much magic. She was even using summoning magic now, so she was completely exhausted and could barely even stand.
She didn’t have enough energy to heal her own wounds. She couldn’t fight anymore, so she’d made the levelheaded judgment that it would be a waste to heal herself.
But if she collapsed now, she’d be anxious for Zenbel and Zaryusu fighting up in front. Blood dribbled out of her mouth. Her oral cavity was injured, and she tried to stay conscious.
“Middle Cure Wounds!” She cast a healing spell on Zaryusu, who was fighting at close quarters with Iguvua.
Her legs gave out and her field of vision blurred. Her whole body could sense water around her. Why that was, she couldn’t comprehend at first. She didn’t notice, but at some point, she had fallen and sunk into the mud.
She realized soon enough and confirmed the lack of new injuries, so she must have just lost consciousness for a second and collapsed.
She felt relieved—not that she was still alive but that she could still fight. She didn’t even try to stand up. No, she didn’t have the energy to stand—it would have been a waste.
The backs of Zaryusu and Zenbel floated in her hazy field of vision. They were her comrades with whom she’d traveled and fought so far, although it was just a short time they’d spent together. Both of them—Zenbel, matched evenly against the four skeleton warriors with a little help, and Zaryusu, withstanding Iguvua’s magic attacks—were covered in wounds.
Crusch desperately steadied her breath and shot spells. “Middle Cure Wounds!” She healed Zenbel. “Middle Cure Wounds!” She healed Zaryusu. “Gah-hack…” She choked in and out.
Something was wrong with her breathing. She inhaled frantically, but it felt like the air wasn’t entering her lungs. It was probably due to using too much magical energy. Her head was pounding, but still, she forced her eyes to stay open.
How much had they sacrificed so far? After all that, they couldn’t be the first to withdraw. Crusch’s eyelids seemed about to fall, but she held them open. And she cast. “Middle Cure Wounds!”
•
Zenbel drove his clenched fist into a skeleton warrior’s skull. The sensation of creaking resistance turned into one of crushing, and the skeleton warrior was destroyed.
“Twoooo. Gah-haaaagh.” He heaved a breath like he was exhaling his exhaustion and scowled at the remaining skeleton warriors. The crab Crusch had summoned was already gone, but because it had occupied two of the skeleton warriors, Zenbel had been able to defeat the two others. He’d gotten this far with Crusch’s support.
Now there were two left, the ones the crab had been holding off. When he was done with them, he could move on to Iguvua.
He flexed his huge arm; it could still move.
His left arm was covered in injuries, and he couldn’t really tense it. He’d used it to shield himself from sword strikes too many times. He gazed absentmindedly at it as it hung limply at his side.
“Well, it’s a fine handicap.” He glared at the skeleton warriors and moved his left arm a bit. A pain that he would never have thought could come just from moving his fingers coursed through his entire body.
But what did it matter? His friend had continued charging even though some of his heads had become deadweight. Could Zenbel Gugu do something so laughable as give up now?
How strong was a skeleton warrior? Zenbel had fought them, so now he knew. Two of them against him would be an even match. That’s how strong they were. If he had had to fight four at once, he might not have been able to win. Thanks to that crab. Maybe I shouldn’t eat mud crabs for a while. After giving thanks to his favorite food, he turned his attention back to the two approaching skeleton warriors.
He balled up his fist.
He could still fight. He could still stand.
Honestly, he wondered how it was possible.
“Hah! This is no time to think crap like that!”
There was only one reason.
He scoffed at his doubting self of a moment ago.
He saw Zaryusu’s back beyond the skeleton warriors. His comrade didn’t retreat even one step despite Iguvua’s overwhelmingly powerful presence.
“That’s the biggest reason…”
Yes…
Zaryusu and Crusch. Rororo. They had all fought together. That was why he could still fight.
“Whoa, Zaryusu! You’re really beat up! That’s worse than the time you fought me, isn’t it?”
He swung his powerful arm at the attacking skeleton warriors and sent one flying. The other answered with its scimitar, and he didn’t manage to block it completely with his left arm, and another cut opened on his flank around where Crusch had healed him before.
“Crusch is doing awesome even though her situation sucks, too.”
She’d shot over another spell that began to heal him. He didn’t turn around, but he heard her voice right at water level. He could imagine from what position she was casting. How could she still even use magic?
“…What a great female.” If he was going to marry, he wanted a female like her. Zenbel felt just a little jealous of Zaryusu. “I don’t want her to see me collapse first! That’d be pathetic!”
He feinted with his huge arm and whipped with his tail. Then he grinned. Plus I’m older than them!
The two skeleton warriors, concealing themselves with their shields, steadily closed in on him. The shields hid Zaryusu from his view, which triggered an intense emotional reaction in Zenbel. “You’re in my way, dammit! I can’t see that cool male!” He let out a war cry and charged.
•
Iguvua and Zaryusu’s back-and-forth continued. It was a fight where their eyes remained glued on each other, so Zaryusu felt it when Iguvua glanced away for a moment. His undead face warped in a horrifying grimace. And what happened next turned Zaryusu’s body and soul to ice.
There came a splash from the rear—the sound of someone falling.
“Look! Your friend collapsed!”
He couldn’t turn around. What Iguvua said might be true, but it might not be. A feeling like his scales were being pulled welled up inside him. But his enemy was overwhelmingly powerful. He didn’t have time to turn and look. It was clear that the battle would be decided the moment he turned. Zaryusu hadn’t come all this way to lose in such an idiotic way.
He had come here to claim victory.
Still, if what Iguvua said was true, he’d be in trouble if he didn’t find a way to deal with the enemy reinforcements that would be coming up from behind him.
I guess I’ll take one magic hit. As Zaryusu steeled himself, there was some heavy splashing as if someone was trying to stand up, followed by the sound of multiple bones breaking.
“Zaryusu! I’m done for! The rest is…up to youuu!”
“…Middle Cure Wounds.”
With Zenbel’s pained words, a huge splash echoed.
With Crusch’s voice, which was barely a whisper, Zaryusu’s wounds began to heal.
“Nrrgh!” At Iguvua’s displeased face, Zaryusu didn’t even have to turn around—the two of them must have done exactly what they’d needed to do.
Then next up is—
“My turn!”
He swung Frost Pain, but Iguvua repelled it with the staff in his hand. “Heh-heh-heh. I am Iguvua, elder lich. Just because I’m inferior in closequarters combat doesn’t mean you should discount me!”
Despite his boast, Iguvua felt with a chill that his chances of winning were low. If it were one-on-one, he probably could have claimed victory, considering the gap in their abilities. But with the white lizardman healing wounds from the rear, their positions in terms of remaining health had reversed.
Then came three attacks, of which Iguvua was able to block only one. The other two cut into his body. He had resistance against cutting weapons, like a skeleton, and the additional chill damage had no effect, but this was still an extremely bad situation for him to be in.
His blood boiled.
He had been created by the Great One, his master Ainz Ooal Gown, as the commander of this army. Loss was unacceptable.
He at least wanted to summon some undead soldiers to guard him, but with his ability, summoning magic took time to use. It would be pretty tricky to use it with an enemy right in front of him.
At this rate he’d be overcome.
So he decided to use his last resort. It wasn’t a very good move—depending on the situation it could be considered a bad one—but it was the only move he had left.
Zaryusu hesitated before attacking as Iguvua suddenly turned his back and dashed away. Iguvua took the blow in his back and staggered but didn’t fall. Zaryusu clicked his tongue at Iguvua’s seemingly infinite health and ran after him to close the new gap.
Iguvua turned around. His face was twisted up in a rage that didn’t seem very undead, but there was a hint of glee showing through as well.
A red light glowed in his hand. Fireball.
Zaryusu, who had closed in, had doubts. An area-of-effect spell at this distance? Does he plan to self-destruct? No!
Fear welled up in Zaryusu’s ****** as he realized Iguvua’s gaze wasn’t directed at him. He was looking behind him—at Crusch and Zenbel, who were probably already down.
What should I do? Zaryusu stopped to think.
This was a big chance. If he abandoned them, he could finish off Iguvua. If he didn’t, though, he wasn’t sure how the battle would go. Neither of them had much health left. There was an extremely high probability that one wrong move could mean the end of his life.
To win against Iguvua—wasn’t that why they were here? And they’d sacrificed so many of their comrades. He had to leave Crusch and Zenbel. Surely they would smile and forgive him; he would if their positions were reversed.
But…
He didn’t choose to abandon his comrades.
He would save them and defeat Iguvua.
Once he’d made his decision, the rest was easy.
“Icy Burst!” Zaryusu created a wall of chill at his feet.
“Gwahhhh!” His body froze in the cold swirling up. The word ultra-painful failed to describe the agony that assaulted him.
Desperately clinging to consciousness, Zaryusu focused his piercing gaze on Iguvua and endured the pain.
As a scream broke through his gritted teeth, the chilling mist enveloped the pair of them and dominated the area.
Enveloped in the white frost, Iguvua grinned as Zaryusu expected. It was like he was saying, He could have claimed victory if only he had abandoned his comrades.
Iguvua was immune to chill and electric attacks. That was why he could just stand there in this torrent. He clamped his hand around the fireball to put it out. If he let it go and it hit the white mist swirling around him, he’d essentially be blowing himself up.
He could follow up with another attack on those two lizardmen after the mist disappeared. The first one he had to crush was still standing. Iguvua scanned the area and frowned. He had miscalculated one thing.
“Now…where is he?”
All the mist was obscuring his view. Iguvua could see in the dark, but he didn’t have an ability that allowed him to see in conditions with bad visibility. As a result, he’d lost his enemy.
But he didn’t need to worry too much. Judging by the distress in the lizardman’s voice, he must have suffered fairly serious wounds. After all, he’d radiated enough chill to cancel Fireball. The damage should have been equal to the fire spell.
One wrong move with wounds that heavy could be fatal, so Iguvua could take his time stomping him out.
I guess I should get through this mist first? Iguvua thought, but he immediately discarded the idea.If I move now, I’ll give away my position. The first thing he needed to do was summon more undead. If he had some guards, his victory was certain even if the lizardman was still alive.
As he was about to cast, Iguvua suddenly heard a splash.
One of the Four Great Treasures handed down through generations of lizardmen—Frost Pain. Legend said that it was carved out of the ice that formed the only time the “lake that never froze” froze. It had three powers.
The first was the ability to deal additional chill damage when cutting an opponent because its blade was enchanted.
The second was the special move Icy Burst, which could be used three times per day.
And the third…
The air sounded like it was ripping.
The tip of a sharp blade appeared in Iguvua’s field of vision faster than he could even detect what it was.
Something made impact in his head.
The blade that had entered his left eye disturbed his brain. Finally understanding what had happened, Iguvua screamed in shock. “Gahhhhh! Why aren’t you deeead?!”
Frost Pain was sticking deep in his left eye socket, and he felt a chunk of his life disappear…
Zaryusu’s hazy figure appeared before Iguvua in the mist, covered in frost, as the elder lich reeled with the blade still in his head.
Iguvua couldn’t understand. How was Zaryusu still standing after taking so much chill damage?
Frost Pain’s third power was the ability to protect the one who equips it from virtually all chill damage.
Of course, even though Frost Pain’s defense against the cold was strong, it wasn’t enough to completely nullify Icy Burst. Zaryusu was weakened by the chill damage, and it was all he could do to stand. He was panting, and his movements were slow. His tail was even drooping into the water. Even breathing was too much work. It would be near impossible to fight anymore. He hadn’t even aimed that attack. He’d just mustered the last remnants of his strength and left it up to instinct.
It was only luck that he’d even hit him.
Zaryusu’s eyelids threatened to close, but he desperately fought to keep them open.
The blow he’d driven into Iguvua using the last of his strength had been fatal. He watched with a faint sense of anticipation.
Iguvua groped and staggered. As if he could no longer maintain his body, the skin on his face peeled off and cracks appeared in the bone. Even his clothes began to disintegrate into tatters. His destruction was only a matter of time now. The moment Zaryusu confirmed his miraculous victory—
—a hand of skin and bones reached out and grabbed his neck. “I—I was created by my master as his minion…! Do you really think you can destroy me…so easily?!”
The grip seemed like it would be easy to break away from if he tried, but—“Gwaaaaagh!”—a scream escaped Zaryusu’s lips as intense pain shot through his entire body.
Negative energy was flowing in, robbing Zaryusu of his life. Even Zaryusu, who had been trained in ways to withstand pain, had no way to manage a pain like the chill that was being directly injected into his veins.
“Diiiiiiie, lizardman!” Part of Iguvua’s face chipped off and floated up, crumbling into the sky. His life was almost at its end, but his devotion to his master made him cling to it.
Zaryusu desperately resisted, but he was frightened that his body wouldn’t move quite right. Zaryusu himself didn’t have much life force left, and the injection of negative energy from Iguvua’s touch was completely sapping him. His gaze wavered, and his vision started to go dim. A white fog seemed to be covering the world.
Iguvua was also mobilizing all the fading consciousness he could muster and smiled in victory at Zaryusu and his rapidly weakening resistance.
He would kill this lizardman, and then he would kill the other two who had come at him. These are probably top class lizardmen. So if he killed them, they would be fitting sacrifices to the Great One, his creator.
His expression spoke louder than words, so Zaryusu could tell what he was thinking.
“Diiiie!”
Zaryusu’s body wouldn’t move right. He could feel his temperature dropping, like poison was coursing through his body. It was even hard to breathe. Only his mental faculties were sharp in that world.
He couldn’t die yet.
Rororo had run so hard.
Zenbel had been his shield.
Crusch had used up all her magic.
And that wasn’t all. He could feel on his shoulders the weight of all the lizardmen who had fallen in this battle.
Faint noises came to Zaryusu’s ears as he frantically groped for a way to fight.
…Crusch’s kind voice.
…Zenbel’s cheery voice.
…Rororo’s cry for attention.
He shouldn’t have been able to hear them. Crusch was unconscious and Zenbel was in a coma. And Rororo was far away. Was his brain just imagining the voices because his consciousness was muddled? Imagining words from his friends he’d met only a week ago, the cries of his family?
No.
No, he wasn’t imagining them.
They were all there with him.
“Yaa, yaaaaaaaargh!”
“?! You still have that much power?”
Half-conscious Zaryusu raised a war cry at the same time Iguvua shouted in surprise. Zaryusu’s eyes rolled to stare down Iguvua.
Iguvua’s face was twitching with rage to see the energy in Zaryusu’s gaze, where before the lizardman hadn’t even been able to make eye contact.
“Crusch! Zenbel! Rororo!”
“What are you planning to do?! Diiiiie!”
Where did that life force even come from? With every passing moment, the vast negative energy sapped and devoured it. Really, Zaryusu’s limbs were heavy, and his body felt as cold as ice.
Still, as he shouted each name, he felt warmth. The power welling up in him wasn’t life force—deep in his chest, it was heart.
Something made a squeaking noise. It was Zaryusu’s right hand. He’d balled it into a tight fist. In it, he’d gathered all his remaining energy.
“Of all the ridiculous—! Why can you move?! You monsterrrrr!” Iguvua couldn’t believe his eyes that the lizardman could still move. A creeping horror rushed through his mind, but he frantically suppressed it.
He was Iguvua, the one deployed from the Great Tomb of Nazarick to command the army. And most importantly, he had been created by the Great One, Ainz Ooal Gown. He couldn’t allow himself to be defeated.
“D—!”
“This is the end, monster!”
One moment faster.
Yes, the full-force punch came one moment before Iguvua could flood him with more negative energy.
Zaryusu took his tightly balled fist and slammed it into Frost Pain’s hilt.
The blow, hard enough to draw blood from Zaryusu’s hand, caused the tip of the sword in Iguvua’s left orbit to go completely through his head.
“Arrrrrgh!” Iguvua was undead, so he felt almost no pain, but he could comprehend that he was losing all his false life. “Ahhh…argh…how…st…pid… Lord…A…nz…”
Iguvua’s eyes showed complete understanding that he’d been defeated.
Zaryusu’s body collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut, and as he splashed into the marsh—
“…forgi…ve…me…”—Iguvua crumpled, apologizing to his master.
•
A silence fell over the room. Unable to believe what they’d seen in the mirror, no one spoke—besides the maid, Entoma.
“Master Cocytussss, it appears Lord Ainz is calling youuuu.”
“UNDERSTOOD.” With his head hanging down, Cocytus slowly turned to face Entoma. Feeling the anxious gazes of his minions, he bit back the humiliation.
On the other hand, however, he admired the lizardmen.
It had been a magnificent fight.
Against what should have been overwhelming odds, they’d achieved victory. Certainly the elder lich wasn’t perfect, but he still should have been able to win.
“MAGNIFICENT. JUST MAGNIFICENT.” The repeated word revealed Cocytus’s genuine feelings. They had cleared an impossible hurdle. “…IT’S TOO BAD,” he murmured at the scene in the mirror of the lizardmen cheering with joy at their victory.
The warriors reflected in the mirror looked so small and weak, but they’d set his heart on fire. “AHH, WHAT A WASTE…” Cocytus wasn’t sure what to do. Of his countless thoughts, he grasped one—the most horrible one. He thought hard on it and gave his conclusion. “I GUESS I SHOULD GO.”
6
Zaryusu felt his body being lifted out of a pitch-black world. It was a pleasant sensation. His eyes opened. The world looked hazy through his freshly woken eyes.
Where am I? Why am I sleeping in a place like this? A number of questions came to mind, and at the same time, he realized he felt a weight on top of him.
White… When he looked, that was the first word that came to his stillgroggy mind. Then as he woke up, he understood what it was.
Crusch. She was sleeping on top of him.
“Uh…”
She was alive.
The relief was so strong he nearly vocalized it, but he managed to hold it back at the last second. He didn’t want to wake her up. He frantically suppressed the urge to touch her. Just because a female’s scales were pretty didn’t make it okay to stroke her while she was sleeping.
Zaryusu chased her out of his mind and tried to think about something else. He had a lot to consider. First, the reason he was here. He searched his memory to try to remember what had happened. His last memory was destroying Iguvua. His recollection cut off abruptly after that, but his lying here instead of being captured meant that the tribes must have won.
Careful not to wake Crusch, he breathed a sigh of relief. The weight of the past few days seemed to lighten a little. Certainly, thinking with a level head, the burden was still heavy. They didn’t know the true identity of their enemy yet or what they were after. There was more than a good chance that they would attack again. No, if his hunch was right, they would come again.
But just for right now, he wanted to be allowed to relax. He sighed lightly again, feeling Crusch’s body heat.
Then he gently flexed his muscles from head to tail. He had no problems moving. He thought he might have lost something, but everything seemed to have gone all right.
Then he remembered the comrades he’d fought with. There were no other lizardmen in the room besides Crusch. Then where’s Zenbel? A flicker of anxiety crossed his mind, but at the same time, the certainty that a male as strong as Zenbel couldn’t possibly have… welled up inside him.
Perhaps responding to Zaryusu’s slight movement, Crusch stretched slightly. It felt like a core had formed in her soft body. She must be about to wake up.
“Nngh…” Crusch made a cute noise. Then she flicked her hazy eyes around, taking in the area. Then finding Zaryusu underneath her, she broke into a smile. “Mmmm…” Crusch groggily wrapped her arms around Zaryusu and rubbed her body against him, just like an animal leaving its scent.
Zaryusu froze and let her do as she pleased. In a corner of his mind, he also had some less noble thoughts, such as Well, she started it.
Her glossy white scales were cool and pleasant to the touch. The fragrant herbal scent that hung in the area was entrancing.
Maybe I can put my arms around her, too?
As he was anguishing over the question, Crusch’s eyes gradually began to focus. Then she turned them to Zaryusu beneath her.
She froze.
She’d stopped moving with her arms still around him. Zaryusu considered what he should say first and ended up choosing the most benign thing he could come up with. “Can I put my arms around you, too?”
Benign? In his excited state of mind, he’d thought it was.
Crusch made a threatening noise and thrashed her tail around. Then she rolled away from Zaryusu’s body, not stopping until she crashed into the wall.
Facedown, she groaned softly. He also heard her say, “Stupid, stupid, I’m so stupid.”
“Well, I’m just glad you’re safe.”
At those words, she must have finally regained composure; her tail was still wriggling around, but she looked up and smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re safe, too.”
Seeing her kind face, Zaryusu had something else on his mind, but he held it back with all his willpower and asked a serious question. “Do you have any idea what happened after all that?”
“Yeah, an idea. It seems like the enemy retreated thanks to your victory over Iguvua. And your brother managed to beat the monsters, too. Then the three of us got saved… This was all yesterday.”
“So Zenbel isn’t here, but he’s…?”
“Yeah, he’s safe. He must have more regenerative power than you. I heard he regained consciousness right after the healing magic was cast, and now he’s probably working on post-fight cleanup. I was so unbelievably tired I guess I passed out again after hearing that much…” Crusch stood up and went back to Zaryusu.
When she sat down right next to him, Zaryusu moved to sit up, too, but she gently stopped him. “Don’t overdo it. You were the one with the worst injuries out of all of us.” Perhaps because she remembered him as he was then, her voice became frail. “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m so glad…”
She lowered her eyes, and Zaryusu rubbed her back to comfort her. “I won’t die until I hear your answer. I was worried maybe you were dead!”
Answer. The word made them both pause.
Neither of them said anything, and the room got so quiet they could practically hear each other’s hearts beating.
Crusch’s tail slowly curled around Zaryusu’s. The tangled black-andwhite extremities brought to mind mating snakes.
Zaryusu gazed silently at Crusch. She looked back at him. They could see themselves reflected in the other’s eyes.
Zaryusu quietly spoke. No, it wasn’t speech. It was a call, the same one he’d made the first time they’d met—a mating call.
After he called, he did nothing. No, he couldn’t do anything. His heart just beat earnestly, violently.
Eventually the same speech, the same call, flowed from Crusch’s mouth. The same high pitch, the same vibrato at the end. She was accepting the mating call.
On her face was an indescribably seductive expression. Zaryusu could no longer take his eyes off her. Crusch got on top of him, in virtually the same position as when she’d been sleeping on him.
There was almost no distance between their two faces. Their hot breaths mixed, and the beating of their hearts synchronized through their touching chests. Then the two of them became one—
“Yo, are you guys doin’ it?!” The door banged open and Zenbel barged in.
Crusch and Zaryusu both halted as if they’d turned into ice sculptures.
Perplexed, Zenbel observed the two of them, Crusch still on top of Zaryusu, and cocked his head. “What? You’re just getting started?”
Understanding what he meant, the pair moved apart without a word. Then they slowly stood up and approached Zenbel.
He’d been looking down at them with curiosity, but now he bent over double. “Guh-hngh!” The pair’s fists in his abdomen knocked the wind out of him, and his large body sank to the floor. “Urrgh… Nice equipment there… especially Crusch… Agh… That seriously hurt…”
Zaryusu aside, apparently even the female’s punch of rage had the potential to take Zenbel out. Of course, a single blow wouldn’t be enough to satisfy their frustration, but even if they pummeled him, the ruined atmosphere wouldn’t go back to the way it had been.
Although it couldn’t replace what they’d been about to do, grasping each other’s hands, they questioned Zenbel in order to ease the worries pricking at their minds like pins. “More importantly, we have a ton of questions. I asked Crusch, too, but please fill me in on our current status.”
Zenbel answered without paying attention to the fact that the pair was holding hands. “Hmm? The whole tribe’s celebrating our win!”
“So my brother is in charge of that?”
“Basically. We sent the hunters out to search for the enemy, but they couldn’t find ’em. No sign of any hidden follow up wave. That big of a force would stick out if they were on the move. That was why, even though we’re still on guard, your brother declared victory for the time being. Actually, I’m here because of something your brother said to me.”
“My brother?”
“Yeah, he said, ‘Ga-ha-ha-ha-ha! We should let the two of them rest. Maybe they’re doing it, ga-ha-ha-ha! I don’t want to bother them, but I am curious. Ga-ha-ha-ha-ha!’”
“Don’t lie to me! What’s with the ‘ga-ha-ha-ha’?”
“Y-yeah. I guess he wasn’t saying ‘ga-ha-ha-ha.’”
“My brother would never laugh like that. Geez…”
“But no, it was that kind of undertone—”
“You’re the worst.” Crusch spoke with a voice chilly enough for another Icy Burst. It was so creepy that it sent shivers up even Zaryusu’s spine. Zenbel, at whom it had been directed, shuddered and froze for a moment.
“So, why are you here?”
“Right, I just—”
“If you say you came here just to bother us, I’m going to blast you with every spell I can think of.” Crusch was dead serious. Both Zenbel and Zaryusu could tell.
“Ahhh. C’mon, what? I came to invite you guys. We’re VIPs, you know. We can’t not go. And when you think about what might happen in the future…”
“I see…” Catching the implied meaning in Zenbel’s vague words, Zaryusu smiled bitterly. It’s a good chance to talk up our strength in case there’s another battle? “Got it. You’re okay, too, right, Crusch?”
Her cheeks puffed up with just a bit of dissatisfaction, making her look like the dermes frogs who inhabited the marsh. Of course, they’re totally different on the cuteness scale, Zaryusu thought.
“Then shall we?” Zenbel asked the two, who were looking at each other, in a carefree voice.
“Y-yeah. I guess. Let’s go.”
Both of them agreed, so they joined Zenbel and went outside. The moment they stepped off the stairs of the house and into the marsh, Crusch and Zenbel lost sight of Zaryusu. Something huge had pounced and sent him flying.
Bam, flup-flup-flup-flup, ker-splash!
Those were the sounds of what happened next.
Rororo had taken Zaryusu’s place. His four heads squirmed healthily, and he happily turned his noses to Zaryusu, who had fallen into the marsh.
“Rororo! You’re okay, too!” Zaryusu stood up, covered in mud, and went back to Rororo. He gave the hydra a thorough once-over as he pet him. He must have been healed with magic; it was like the burns had never been there.
Rororo called out and wrapped his heads around Zaryusu for attention. They were so tenaciously curled around him that he was completely hidden.
“C’mon, Rororo, knock it off!” Zaryusu laughed and told Rororo to stop, but Rororo happily cooed at him without letting up.
Splash, ker-splash, ker-splash!
Suddenly Zaryusu heard a series of rhythmic splashes. When he looked for the source, he was puzzled.
It was Crusch. Her face practically glowed with emotion as she gazed at Zaryusu and Rororo. But her tail was beating out a regular rhythm on the marsh.
Zenbel had been standing next to her, but he had begun inching away, his face twitching.
Rororo stopped moving. He must have sensed something strange as well.
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing…”
Zaryusu was confused when she asked him. She was definitely smiling. It couldn’t be anything but gladness that Rororo and Zaryusu were reunited. So why were this many chills going up his spine?
“Goof.” Crusch smiled again.
Rororo’s heads moved away from Zaryusu, freeing him. Zenbel twitched. Perhaps he opened his mouth to hide his inability to bear the awkwardness. “Okay, Rororo. Let’s you and me go on ahead of them.”
Of course, Rororo couldn’t understand lizardman language. But maybe he’d sensed the mood anyway, because once Zenbel was on top of him, they splish-splashed off at a pretty quick clip.
A bizarre silence fell between Zaryusu and Crusch as the other two fled.
Crusch held her head in her hands and shook it side to side. “Argh, gosh. What am I doing? It’s like my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore. Why can’t I stop it when I know it’s not smart? This is basically the same as a curse!”
Zaryusu understood how she felt—because that’s how he’d been when he first met her.
“Crusch. Honestly, I’m happy.”
“What?!” A splash, bigger than the others up till now, sounded.
Then Zaryusu went next to her. “Listen, can you hear that?”
“Huh?”
“It’s what we protected. And what we have to protect from now on, too.”
They could hear high-spirited voices partying on the wind. Everyone must have been drinking. It was a party to return the ancestral spirits and celebrate their victory but also to mourn the dead.
Normally, alcohol was a valuable item. The reason they could drink so much these past few days was that Zenbel had brought the Great Treasure that gave them an infinite supply, and since all the tribes were gathered, the resulting din was unbelievable.
Listening to the huge racket, Zaryusu smiled at Crusch next to him. “Maybe nothing is over yet. Maybe the Great One or whoever will attack us again. But just for today, how about we relax?” He put his hands around her hips.
Crusch let herself be drawn in close and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Wanna go?”
“Yes…” She hesitated a moment and then added, “…dear.”
The two lizardmen huddled together and disappeared into the party.