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Overlord - Chapter 24
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1
Cocytus’s footsteps fell heavily on his way to the Throne Room. As if his mood had infected the minions following him, their steps were also dark and weighty.
Their mood was appropriate after suffering defeat at the hands of the lizardmen. Cocytus had commanded the shining army of Nazarick, but all he had reaped was loss and ignominy.
Certainly Cocytus thought highly of the lizardmen. Created to be a samurai—no, to be a warrior—he was inclined to respect skilled fighters.
But those were two different things.
There was no way a Nazarick defeat would be forgiven. And this was no happenstance defensive skirmish—it was their first military expedition. Anyone would be displeased if that glorious first battle was met with failure.
Of course, it was true he’d been given a corps of weaklings, and he remembered what Demiurge had said. But that was nothing more than an excuse. Even if his master had considered the possibility of defeat, surely victory was best.
Soon enough the Throne Room was in front of him, and the room leading to it, Lemegeton, The Lesser Key of Solomon, came into view. As he neared it, his feet grew even more leaden, to the point where he wanted to believe it was some kind of magic trap.
He hoped his master would reprimand him. It would be his pleasure to wipe away the shame, whether his life was taken or he was ordered to commit suicide.
What Cocytus feared most was that his lord would give up on him entirely. If he were to be discarded by the last remaining Supreme Being, what would he do? Cocytus considered himself a sword, a weapon in his master’s hand that cut down everything it was told to, so there could not be a fate more horrible than being deemed unnecessary and useless.
Not only that, but if the other guardians were forsaken due to his actions, how could he possibly atone? THERE WOULD BE NO WAY TO APOLOGIZE. IF IT CAME TO THAT, MY DEATH ALONE WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH.
What’s more…
IF OUR MASTER BECAME DISAPPOINTED AND LEFT THIS LAND LIKE THE OTHER SUPREME BEINGS, WHAT WOULD WE DO…? Cocytus shuddered. He had perfect resistance against chill, so naturally his shivers were not from the cold. He was tormented by a mental pressure severe enough to make a human vomit. TH-THAT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN. LORD AINZ WOULDN’T…WOULDN’T ABANDON US.
The last Supreme One to remain, after all the others had left the tomb… He was their highest ruler and absolute leader. Their lord, so deeply compassionate, would never forsake them. But no matter how much Cocytus comforted himself, persistent voices in the back of his head countered that there was no proof he wouldn’t.
Cocytus arrived at Lemegeton. Normally there wasn’t anyone in this room besides the golems and crystal monsters, but today there were many: four guardians—Demiurge, Aura, Mare, Shalltear—and several elite minions they had selected to accompany them. Their gazes gathered on Cocytus, and for a moment, out of guilt, his expression registered distress.
He felt like they were blaming him for the loss. NO, thought Cocytus, MAYBE THEY’RE RIGHT. His thoughts from before crossed his mind again. THEY MIGHT ALL THINK THAT WAY.
When he looked at them, he could feel the wordless reproach in their eyes. “SORRY I’M LATE. EVEN DEMIURGE MANAGED TO GET HERE ON TIME, AND HE WAS OUTSIDE…”
“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Demiurge answered as the group’s representative. It was his usual voice, and Cocytus couldn’t sense any negativity in it. But Demiurge was an ingenious guardian with excellent control over his emotions and a talent for hiding his true feelings. Cocytus couldn’t tell if he was displeased or not.
In that sense, one could say the Demiurge who had been watching over the previous battle between Ainz and Shalltear was a rare form for him. Of course, his distress was also a sign of his loyalty.
“Anyhow, I told the others, but I’ll be standing in for Albedo as guardian representative today. Any objections?”
“NO. I HAVE NO PROBLEMS WITH YOU REPRESENTING US.”
Albedo was standing in for Sebas as their master’s assistant, so she wasn’t present.
“Good. We’re waiting for one more, and then we’ll enter the Throne Room. But first, considering Albedo’s absence, we’ll have a meeting regarding how to line up for our audience. Really, we should rehearse, but there’s no time, so we’ll omit that and proceed with only spoken explanation. Listen closely.”
Each guardian and minion acknowledged Demiurge, including Cocytus. He did wonder whom they were waiting for, though, since everyone seemed to already be there.
His uncertainty vanished in a moment as he detected a single presence headed in their direction. When he turned toward it, he saw a grotesque being floating toward Lemegeton. It looked like a fetus. No, perhaps embryo was more accurate. It had a wriggly little tail, and its body was an awfully bright pink. Over its head was an angel’s halo, and from its back grew shriveled, featherless wings. Its whole body measured about three feet across, making its way over.
“What’s that?”
Demiurge answered Aura’s question. “It’s the guardian of the eighth level, Victim.”
“It is?” Shalltear chimed in.
Victim arrived at Lemegeton and spun around. Cocytus understood that it was taking in the area.
Victim didn’t have a neck, so if it wanted to look around, it needed to move its entire body.
“Aster-lime-clay-ash, teal-orange-violet-grape-orange-eggshell. Gray-jonquil-orange ivory. Cinnabar-scarlet-flesh-eggshell-scarlet-purple-eggshell-crimson. \”
Unfazed by the strange language, Demiurge replied as representative of the group. “Good of you to come, Victim. My name is Demiurge, and I will be standing in for Albedo as representative.”
“Fuchsia-scarlet-ash-crimson-clay-grape ebony-cream chestnut-silk-silk orange-eggshell chestnut-cream-grape-crimson. \” Then it turned its body around to look at everyone. “Aster-lime-clay-grape evergreen chestnut-lime-grape-madder thistle chestnut-silk-silk orange-eggshell chestnut-cream-grape-crimson evergreen eggshell, orange-ebony-cinnabar-ivory-scarlet teal madder-ash-cream-ebony clay-brown-eggshell scarlet-jonquil-jonquil-silk-grape-crimson. \”
“I see. Well, we’re all here now, so first I’ll tell you how to line up.”
Everyone listened to Demiurge’s explanation in earnest. They were about to have an audience with the leader of the Supreme Beings inside the heart of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. If there were any mistakes, the only way to apologize was probably with one’s life.
After Demiurge had said what he needed to, he waited just enough time for everyone to digest it and then led the guardians and minions into the Throne Room.
Entering this space, which he had visited only a handful of times, caused joy to well up in Cocytus’s heart.
Its magnificent construction, the flags representing each of the Supreme Beings, the World Item all the way in the back—it was a room worthy of being the heart of Nazarick. He was so enthralled he forgot, if for only a moment, the flames slowly roasting his heart.
The guardians left the minions behind partway and lined up at the foot of the stairs leading to the throne. After that, they saluted the Ainz Ooal Gown guild crest against the wall to express their adoration and loyalty. Then they dropped to one knee, bowed their heads, and waited until their master arrived.
Before long, along with the solemn sound of the opening door, came a pair of footsteps. They knew without even turning around that it was decidedly not their master. It was unthinkable that the master of the Great Tomb of Nazarick would appear unaccompanied.
“The highest ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown, and captain of the floor guardians, Mistress Albedo.” The voice belonged to one of the Pleiades, Yuri Alpha.
The door sounded again, along with the frigid clack of boots on the floor and the tapping of a staff, followed a little later by the sound of high heels.
It was normal to show respect when one’s master entered the room, but no one gathered here did anything. Why? Because they were already showing all the respect that was possible.
Only Cocytus did something different. A certain thought occupying his mind ended up expressed as movement. It was a truly tiny motion, but it disrupted the atmosphere in a huge way.
He detected, with a skill, the other guardians focusing on him. Walking behind their master, Albedo radiated a rage she failed to suppress despite her best efforts. But, as could be expected in this situation, no one uttered a word.
The footsteps moved slowly past the line of guardians and up the stairs. There came the sound of someone sitting on the throne, and Albedo’s voice rang out. “Raise your heads and bask in the authority of Lord Ainz Ooal Gown.”
Then came the shuffling of everyone moving at once to attend to their master seated on the throne.
Cocytus also raised his head immediately.
Gripping the staff that proved he was ruler of the land, enveloped in a horrifying aura, with a black halo behind his head—this was the highest ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Ainz Ooal Gown.
Standing in front of him, Albedo observed each of the guardians below, including Cocytus, nodded in satisfaction, and turned to Ainz. “The floor guardians of the Great Tomb of Nazarick bow before you, O Supreme One. Your wish is our command.”
He uttered a dignified “Mm” and struck the floor hard with his staff. As all eyes gathered on him, he slowly opened his mouth to speak. “How good of you to gather before me, floor guardians. First, a word of thanks. Demiurge!”
“My lord!”
“Allow me to thank you for your unceasing efforts. I’m grateful for your loyalty.”
“Oh, what are you saying, Lord Ainz? I am your servant. It is only natural that I should come when you call. Your thanks are too precious to bestow upon me.” Demiurge bowed his head low, his face trembling with delight.
“I see. And do you have any evidence of suspicious scum showing up around here?”
“None, my lord. We are taking ample precautions and should be able to discover them easily should they approach.”
“…I guess that’s all we can do. But don’t neglect the watch! They may employ methods we haven’t considered. And about the skins you brought…the head librarian has concluded that they can withstand being made into low-level scrolls. Is it possible to secure a reliable supply of them?”
“Yes! That will be no problem. We have captured a sufficient number.”
“Aha. And what was the name of the beast you’re using?”
“Beast? Ohh, they’re the ones you mentioned, Lord Ainz…” Demiurge was vague for a moment and then answered, “The bipedal sheep of the Sacred Kingdom. How about we call them Abellion sheep?”
Cocytus wondered at Demiurge’s tone—he seemed to be having an awful lot of fun. In general, Demiurge was good-natured and nice to everyone. But that kindness extended only to those created by the Supreme Beings. To anyone else, he was extremely cruel.
Glimpses of brutality were visible beneath his high spirits. The dark malice was surely directed at the beasts he was talking about, but would Demiurge really hold such an attitude toward beings of lesser intelligence? Considering his personality, Cocytus found it a bit strange, but this wasn’t the time or place to ask about it.
“I see… Sheep.”
Their master smiled faintly, and drawn by his words, Albedo and Demiurge followed suit.
“Goats might be better, but…that’s fine. Then please skin those sheep… Is there any possibility of ecosystem issues due to overhunting?”
“I don’t believe so. Since we use healing magic, we can skin them right away, and unless we’re mass-producing them, there’s no need to gather a large number. This is thanks to those exceedingly brilliant monsters, the tortures.”
“Hmm? Don’t the severed parts disappear if you cast healing magic?”
“About that… We learned something during our healing experiments. If the severed part changes dramatically from its original state before the healing magic is cast—say, it gets minced—then it will remain unaffected by magic. In other words, if we remove the skin and begin processing, it seems to count as a separate entity and will not disappear even if we cast healing magic. Apparently this is also the reason the sheep don’t die if we feed them their own harvested meat. As an aside, it seems that if the healer or healee refuses the healing, the magic doesn’t work as well and the wound remains. It also depends on the tier of the spell used and the amount of time that passes before casting.”
“I see… Goes to show how great the power of magic is… Good. Then continue as you were.”
“Yes, sir. From now on, we’ll separate the skins by sex and age when we send them, so please let me know what age produces the best quality.”
“Hmm, I think I’ll leave that up to the librarian. Next, Victim.”
“Teal-scarlet, fuchsia-scarlet-ash-crimson-clay-grape. ”
“I’ve called you for the reason you’re thinking. Something unimaginable has happened, and we need to use your skill to protect the guardians and me as well… Sorry. I’ll resurrect you right away, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Eggshell-aster-cinnabar-porcelain-peach-crimson thistle scarlet-ocher-eggshell chestnut-cream-grape-orange-jonquil ivory, chestnut-silk grass clay-opal-crimson grass, fuchsia-scarlet-ash-crimson-clay-grape. Gray-jonquil-orange thistle fuchsia-scarlet-ash-crimson-clay-grape evergreen orange-thistle-indigo. Umber-opal grass orange-seaweed jonquil-violet grass cinnabar-aster-jonquil-clay-opal-jonquil evergreen eggshell-crimson. Umber-evergreen yellow-ivory-white eggshell orange-peach-cinnabar evergreen chestnut-ash-ivory-jonquil evergreen chestnut-black-flesh grass jonquil-eggshell-porcelain evergreen eggshell fuchsia-opal-teal peach-opal scarlet-orange-ebony-cinnabar evergreen ebony-snow-peach-green teal fuchsia-cream-grape-brown-ash. \”
“I see… Forgive me.”
When their master bowed in apology, Victim gasped in surprise and wriggled this way and that. “Thistle-ocher-jonquil-scarlet-lime-scarlet! \”
“There may come a time we need to kill you in order to prevent our enemy’s escape. Please accept it. We do not take this action out of hatred. I don’t want to hurt you, one of our precious children, but if we leave these unknown enemies alone for too long, things might end up far worse. That was why…”
“Lime-grass thistle chestnut-ocher-orange-black-white-lime-scarlet eggshell flesh-jonquil-clay-scarlet, fuchsia-scarlet-ash-crimson-clay-grape. Chestnut-silk-thistle-yellow teal orange-licorice-cinnabar-blue-ash grass cream-ivory-scarlet orange-eggshell chestnut-cream-grape-crimson. \”
“One of the gimmicks in Nazarick uses these words from the Gospel: ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ They are truly fitting words for you. I thank you for your love.” Ainz’s attention moved from Victim, who had assumed a posture of deep devotion, to another guardian. “Next, Shalltear.”
She must not have been expecting to get called. Her shoulders jerked, and her voice was terribly shrill when she answered. “My lord! Sir!”
“Come to me.”
He hadn’t said anything like this to the other guardians. Startled, she hurriedly got to her feet. Her anxiety was clear from the tension in her back—like a condemned criminal being led to the guillotine—but her spine was straight, reflecting the honor she sought.
Upon ascending the stairs, she immediately dropped to one knee a short distance from the throne.
“Shalltear, regarding the thorn pricking your heart…”
Understanding what he meant immediately, she oozed remorse. “Ahh, Lord Ainz! I beg you, please discipline me for that shameful affair! Give me punishment befitting the foolish guilty one who, despite holding the position of guardian, committed such a loathsome act!” Shalltear’s pained voice echoed throughout the Throne Room.
Cocytus could understand how she felt— No, any guardian, anyone created by the Supreme Beings could.
Even if she had been manipulated, she couldn’t forgive herself for acting hostile toward a Supreme Being.
“I see… Then come here, Shalltear.”
Obeying his wave, Shalltear inched toward the throne. A bony hand stretched out to her hung head and gently pet it. She ever so timidly looked up, and everyone heard her quiet, astonished voice. “L-Lord Ainz…”
“…The mistake was mine. And we were far too disadvantaged by our opponent having a World Item. Shalltear, I love all who serve Nazarick, all whom we created from nothing. That includes you, naturally. Are you—precious, blameless Shalltear—going to force me to punish you?”
His eyes said he didn’t know what to do. Cocytus didn’t know what he was looking at, though. His mouth moved slightly. His master’s face was all bone with no lips, so Cocytus couldn’t guess what he’d said, but it was probably someone’s name.
“Ahh, Lord Ainz! You speak of love?” Shalltear’s swooning voice rang out.
Cocytus couldn’t see her face because he was behind her, but her behavior told him all he needed to know. She sounded like she was crying, and her shoulders trembled.
He saw their master stroke her face with his other hand. In it he held a white handkerchief.
“There, there, Shalltear. Don’t cry. All your beauty will go to waste, you know?”
Without a word, she pressed the back of Ainz’s hand that had been running through her hair to her face—probably to her lips.
Mare sobbed. And then Aura.
Demiurge was also dabbing at his eyes.
Jealous of those who could shed even a few tears, Cocytus watched as his comrade pledged her loyalty once more.
What Shalltear had feared most was that because she wasn’t useful, because she had caused trouble, because she’d abandoned her oaths, that the kind, last remaining Supreme Being in the land would disown her.
But he had obliterated her worries…
…with the word love.
How great was her joy? Cocytus, in the same position as her—no, worse—stood silently behind her, watching in envy.
“Okay, Shalltear. You’re dismiss—”
“Lord Ainz!” A cold voice cut their master short.
Cocytus glared at Albedo, offended by her rude conduct. Something was off. An unidentifiable uneasiness flitted across his mind.
“Clear rewards and punishment keep all in order. Perhaps it would be best if you punished her.”
“…Albedo. You have some issue with—” He closed his mouth.
Ainz must have paused due to something Cocytus didn’t understand. But what settled things was another word from Shalltear.
“Lord Ainz. I agree with Albedo. I beg you, please punish me. It will be a joy to be able to prove my devotion.”
“Okay. I’ll decide later what to do and punish you. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, Lord Ainz.” Her eyes were always red, but now they were bloodshot as well. She descended the stairs, and back in her previous position, she assumed the most humble posture possible.
And then…
“Cocytus, Lord Ainz has something to say to you. Please listen.”
The air was tense.
The moment had finally arrived.
Cocytus bowed his head deeply. His posture, from which he could see nothing but the floor, was appropriate for an audience, but he remained in it because he lacked the courage to gaze upon his master’s face.
“I saw the battle with the lizardmen, Cocytus!”
“MY LORD!”
“It ended in defeat, didn’t it?”
“SIR! MY HUMBLE APOLOGIES FOR THIS ERROR. I—”
A sharp strike of a staff on the floor cut off Cocytus’s apology.
Albedo’s icy voice vibrated in his ears. “Isn’t that rude, Cocytus? If you’re going to apologize, raise your head!”
“DO PARDON ME!” He lifted his head to see his master seated on the throne at the top of the stairs.
“…Cocytus. Let’s hear from the general of the defeated army. How did it feel to be in command this time instead of fighting on the front lines?”
“MY LORD! MY HUMBLE APOLOGIES FOR LOSING THE SOLDIERS YOU GAVE ME, AS WELL AS THE ELDER LICH COMMANDER YOU CREATED!”
“Hmm? Oh, I can make any number of those, so it’s fine to lose them. Don’t worry about that. What I’m asking you, Cocytus, is what it was like to lead an army. I’ll say this first: I have no intention of blaming you terribly much for this defeat.”
The atmosphere among the guardians and the minions behind them was one of bewilderment, excepting Demiurge and Albedo.
SO THE THINGS DEMIURGE WAS SAYING WERE… HRM! Sensing his master was about to continue speaking, he hurriedly shifted his attention.
“Everyone fails sometimes. Even me.” Disbelief hung faintly in the air. There was no way the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown could fail, and in fact, he never had. In short, such a claim was only to comfort Cocytus.
“All that matters is what you gained from the experience. Cocytus, let me rephrase the question. How could you have won?”
Cocytus fell into silent thought. He knew now what he could have done to win. He voiced one of his faults. “I UNDERESTIMATED THE LIZARDMEN. I SHOULD HAVE PROCEEDED MORE CAUTIOUSLY.”
“Hmm! You are correct. No matter how weak an opponent may seem, you should never make light of them… I should have had Narberal watch this fight. What else?”
“I THINK PERHAPS WE LACKED INFORMATION. WE DIDN’T KNOW THEIR STRENGTHS OR THE LAY OF THE LAND WITHIN THEIR TERRITORY. I LEARNED THAT WHEN THINGS LIKE THAT ARE UNCLEAR, THE CHANCES OF WINNING WILL INEVITABLY BE LOW.”
“Hmm, hmm. What else?”
“WE ALSO DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH COMMANDERS. WE WERE USING LOW-TIER UNDEAD, SO WE SHOULD HAVE ATTACHED A COMMANDER WHO COULD GIVE THEM ORDERS ACCORDING TO THE SITUATION. ALSO, CONSIDERING THE LIZARDMEN’S WEAPONS, WE SHOULD HAVE MAINLY USED ZOMBIES TO TIRE THEM OUT OR USED ALL OUR TROOPS TOGETHER INSTEAD OF SEPARATELY.”
“And besides that?”
“…MY APOLOGIES. THAT’S ALL I CAN COME UP WITH AT THE MOMENT.”
“No, that makes sense. Well done. Of course, I can think of some other things, but you have learned well enough, Cocytus. Really, I wanted you to discover these things on your own without being asked, but…I suppose this is acceptable. Now then, why didn’t you choose these courses of action from the start?”
“…I HADN’T THOUGHT OF THEM. I BELIEVED WE COULD SIMPLY KEEP PUSHING.”
“I see. So when the undead all died, you realized some things? Good! If you strive to not fail again, then this will have been a meaningful defeat.”
Cocytus had the feeling his master smiled a bit.
“There are many types of failures, but yours is not a critical one. Besides the elder lich, all those undead were auto spawning monsters. Losing them doesn’t affect Nazarick at all. And the fact that the guardians have learned not to repeat these mistakes is a bonus.”
“THANK YOU, LORD AINZ.”
“That said, it’s true that you were defeated, so I will have you accept punishment like Shalltear—”
There his words cut off, and Cocytus waited to see what his punishment would be. The brief silence did make him a little anxious, but a weight had been lifted from Cocytus, knowing in his heart that his master hadn’t lost hope in him; however, the next thing he said made Cocytus stiffen.
“Honestly, I thought I’d take you off this operation, but this is a better idea. Cocytus! Wipe away the filth of this defeat with your own hands…Exterminate the lizardmen—this time, without anyone’s help.” If they killed all the lizardmen so that no word of the battle got out, it would be as if Nazarick had never been defeated in the first place.
Someone who scorned those who lived outside Nazarick as lower life-forms would be delighted to set about perpetrating this atrocity. Up until now, Cocytus would have taken the order without hesitation, too, but…
Cocytus trembled—because he knew what it meant to do what he was about to do.
He breathed in and out a few times.
As everyone wondered why he hadn’t accepted the order, he spoke.
“LORD AINZ, THERE IS SOMETHING I WOULD LIKE TO ASK OF YOU!”
The world stopped. He felt the attention of a few stabbing into him. Cocytus—a guardian at the peak of power and strength within Nazarick, who could count on one hand those as strong or stronger than him—was assaulted by chills so violent he shivered.
Regret crashed down upon him like an avalanche, but it was too late.
Now that he’d said something, he couldn’t take it back.
With his multiple compound eyes, Cocytus had an extremely wide field of vision; his only saving grace now was that because he was facing the ground, he couldn’t see his master’s face. If he had looked enraged or displeased, Cocytus wouldn’t have been able to do anything.
“I BEG YOU, LORD AINZ—”
It was not their master but someone else who interrupted.
“You fool!” Albedo rebuked him with an earsplitting scream, a voice appropriate for the captain of the floor guardians. Cocytus was petrified, trembling like a child scolded by his mother.
“You dare petition Lord Ainz despite being the one who brought defeat to Nazarick? Know your place!”
Cocytus didn’t speak but kept his head bowed, hoping for consent from their master, even as Albedo battered him harder with her rage.
“Back dow—” But Albedo’s shout vanished partway, giving way to the quiet voice of one man.
“That’s enough, Albedo.”
She gasped, and their master repeated the words again to soothe her.
“Raise your head, Cocytus. Why don’t you let me hear what it is you want to ask?” It was a quiet voice containing no apparent anger. That was precisely why it was terrifying.
The fear resembled the feeling of being swallowed up while peering into an impossibly clear lake.
Cocytus had gear to protect him from the psychic effects of fear from external sources. The emotions assaulting him now came from inside.
Swallowing hard—not spit, but venom to be exact—Cocytus raised his head and looked his master in the face.
The flames in his vacant orbits were a slightly vivid red.
“Once again. Will you let me hear what it is you want to ask?”
Cocytus’s voice wouldn’t come out. He tried over and over, but his throat was tight and he couldn’t utter a single word.
“What’s wrong, Cocytus?”
A heavy silence weighed him down.
“…I’m not mad or anything, you know! I just want to know what you’re thinking, what you want to say.”
His tone held the kindness one used when asking a clammed-up child. Responding to that push, Cocytus said, “I’M AGAINST KILLING ALL THE LIZARDMEN. I BEG YOU, PLEASE HAVE MERCY.”
When he’d finished speaking, he thought he felt the air in the room shift. No, it had shifted.
The biggest reaction was from straight ahead—Albedo’s murderous glare. The other guardians were shaken, although Demiurge and their master were tranquil—he sensed nothing from them.
“Cocytus, do you know what you’re saying?” Albedo’s icy voice, transformed by killing intent, was enough to make even chill-resistant Cocytus shiver. “Lord Ainz ordered you to exterminate the lizardmen as punishment. That you would raise an objection to it… Guardian of the fifth level, Cocytus, could it be that you’re frightened of the lizardmen?!”
Her voice was mocking, but Cocytus had no response.
Albedo’s attitude was correct. If their positions had been reversed, Cocytus would probably have been similarly irritated.
“How about you say someth—?” What cut off her words wasn’t a voice but a sound—the sharp strike of a staff on the floor.
“Quiet, Albedo. I’m asking Cocytus. Don’t interfere.”
“Excuse me, my lord! P-please forgive me!” Albedo bowed and returned to her previous position.
Their master’s gaze returned to Cocytus, serious and practically boring a hole through him. It was impossible to read his master’s emotions. He could have been completely furious or just curious.
“Now then, Cocytus. You must have a reason for saying what you just said. Some kind of benefit to the Great Tomb of Nazarick? Tell me.”
“MY LORD! THERE IS POTENTIAL THAT IN THE FUTURE THESE LIZARDMEN WILL PRODUCE ROBUST WARRIORS. I THINK THAT PERHAPS KILLING THEM ALL NOW WOULD BE A WASTE. WHEN POWERFUL LIZARDMEN ARE BORN, IT WOULD BE A BENEFIT TO INSTILL IN THEM A LOYALTY TOWARD NAZARICK AND MAKE THEM OUR FOLLOWERS.”
“…Your proposal does make sense. In the end, undead from lizardman corpses weren’t any stronger than the ones made using human corpses. If we can make arrangements to collect corpses buried in E-Rantel’s graveyard, there’s no reason to insist on using lizardmen.”
Cocytus was about to say, “Then…,” but he realized their master wasn’t finished speaking. He had a bad feeling, and then his fear was confirmed.
“However! It’s more cost-effective to use the undead I create with corpses than live lizardmen. Loyalty requires trust. Undead don’t rack up food and drink costs. The only pro I can think of for using lizardmen is that their numbers will increase. And even then, we’d have to think about the long-term implications… Let me know if you think I’m missing something, anything you think would make sense to me.”
Their merciful master would grant his wish as long as he was convinced, but Cocytus couldn’t come up with anything.
He’d always seen himself as a weapon for his master to wield. Because of that, because he’d never thought for himself, he couldn’t explain his own thoughts well. He hadn’t considered how they, as an organization, could benefit.
And what he was being asked really boiled down to one thing: What was in it for the Great Tomb of Nazarick? The reason Cocytus didn’t want to kill the lizardmen was because one had attracted his interest. As a warrior, he was drawn to the group that lizardman was trying to protect—it was a personal emotion, definitely not a utilitarian motive based on seeing the bigger picture.
Cocytus panicked.
If their master, quietly watching him, became impatient or bothered, this miraculous question would lose all meaning. All that would be left was the standing order to exterminate the lizardmen.
He desperately racked his brain. Still, he had no answer.
“What’s the matter, Cocytus? You don’t have anything? If not, you should be fine with exterminating them, yes?”
The question was repeated.
Nothing came to mind. Cocytus had nothing to say, and his mind was just spinning its wheels.
A murmur echoed loudly in the silent Throne Room. “…I see. That’s too bad.”
Just as the weight of the words too bad threatened to crush Cocytus, a quiet voice handed him a lifeline.
“Lord Ainz, please forgive the intrusion…”
“What is it, Demiurge? You have something to say?”
“Yes. Regarding your earlier decision, I wonder if you would consider entertaining a humble plan of mine.”
“…Let’s hear it.”
“My lord! Lord Ainz, you’re well aware of our need to conduct experiments. What if we experimented on the lizardmen?”
“Oh-ho, that’s an interesting idea.” Their master leaned forward out of the throne, and for just a split second, Cocytus felt his crimson eyes on him.
“Indeed. We don’t know what Nazarick’s future will be, but there may come a time when we need to combine and lead forces. We may need to conquer a country someday. At that point in time, whether we’ve performed experiments in governance or not may have a huge impact on how successful we are.” Demiurge further straightened his posture and gave his conclusion, looking squarely at their master on the throne. “I humbly suggest that we conquer the lizardman villages and experiment with governing in a way that does not employ fear.”
The staff struck the floor, and the sharp clack echoed throughout the room. “…A magnificent proposal, Demiurge.”
“Thank you.”
“Very well, I will take Demiurge’s advice and change the lizardman group’s fate from extermination to occupation. Anyone with an objection, raise your hand and speak.” He cast his flickering crimson gaze across the guardians. “ It seems there are no objections. Then it’s decided.”
Everyone bowed in acknowledgment.
“But Demiurge, what a great idea. I’m impressed.”
Demiurge smiled. “What are you saying, Lord Ainz? Surely you had already come up with it. You were waiting for Cocytus, weren’t you?”
He replied with an awkward smile rather than words. But that said it all. Cocytus felt all the strength leave his body. He had commanded Nazarick’s glorious army, lost, and then objected to his master’s opinion without a counterproposal. What did that make him? It made him… INCOMPETENT. I AM UTTERLY INCOMPETENT.
“No, that’s not true, Demiurge. You’re thinking too highly of me. What I wanted was an original idea, no matter what it was.”
His eyes moved again and stopped the longest on Cocytus. Realizing what it meant, he felt deeply ashamed, but he couldn’t look down.
“You need to prioritize intention. Determine the intent and take the most appropriate course of action. Listen, guardians. This won’t work if you just blindly follow orders. You need to think a little first. Think about what will benefit Nazarick the most. If you believe an order is mistaken or that there’s a more efficient way to do things, then present that to me or whoever made the proposal. Now then, Cocytus. Let’s return to our previous topic. I said I would punish you, right?”
“YES. YOU SAID TO KILL ALL THE LIZARDMEN.”
“I did, but now instead of killing them, we’re going to govern them; therefore, your punishment has also changed. Govern the lizardmen and instill in them a loyalty toward Nazarick. Rule by fear is strictly prohibited. We want this to be a case study.”
This was a huge role that Cocytus— No, probably none of the guardians besides Demiurge had ever filled before.
For just a split second, the words It’s too hard for me appeared in Cocytus’s mind, but there was no way he could say something so pathetic—neither to their generous absolute ruler to whom he owed his loyalty nor to his comrade who had rescued him from a difficult situation. “UNDERSTOOD. I’M NERVOUS ABOUT MANY THINGS, SO I ASK FOR YOUR SUPPORT.”
“Of course. Materials, food, personnel—I’m sure you’ll need many things. Nazarick will provide them.”
“THANK YOU. I PROMISE TO PERFORM IN A WAY THAT LIVES UP TO THE MERCY YOU HAVE SHOWN ME!” Cocytus shouted from the bottom of his heart.
“Good. Then I order all guardians to arrange a sortie. We need a feint and to show them that what they’ve seen so far is not the true power of Nazarick. Of course, if it will cause obstacles in governing the lizardmen after the fact, we don’t have to do it, Cocytus.”
Cocytus thought it over before replying, “I DON’T BELIEVE THERE WILL BE ANY ISSUES.”
“I see. Guardians, prepare for departure.”
All the guardians present called out their acknowledgment in unison.
“Albedo, I’m going as well. Prepare the soldiers.”
“Understood. Should I assume there are those who enjoy spying among our enemy and choose personnel who will cause a misunderstanding?”
“Exactly. But don’t forget we also have to awe them into submission.”
“Then perhaps an army with Nazarick old guarders as the linchpin would be attractive.”
Cocytus agreed silently with her reply.
There was a type of undead guard called an old guarder. Nazarick old guarders were an elite undead found only in Nazarick. They were brilliant, proficient in a number of combat skills, and had weapons enchanted with all sorts of effects as well as magic armor and shields.
“That’s fine. How many do you need?”
“Three thousand.”
“That’s not very many. That might not overwhelm them enough. These guys beat us and probably underestimate us now—we have to terrify them! It’s no fun if we send fewer than last time. I want double that. Anything else you need?”
“Then how about also mobilizing the Nazarick elder guarders and Nazarick master guarders? Then we’ll have six thousand.”
In response to Albedo’s smooth answer befitting her position as captain, Ainz was clear and concise. “Great! And is there any issue with activating Gargantua?”
“No, Lord Ainz. He’s fully mobile.”
“Then Shalltear, use Gate to transport our troops all at once.”
“I may not have enough magical energy on my own.”
“Get support from Pestonia; have her transfer some energy. If that’s still not enough, get some from Lupusregina.”
“Understood.”
“Next, have Nigredo’s and Pandora’s Actor’s security net focused on us. That will loosen up the coverage on Sebas’s crew, but…we’ll just have to up the physical surveillance. Good. Move out, everybody! Tomorrow we’ll show the lizardmen the power of the Great Tomb of Nazarick!”
2
“THANKS, DEMIURGE.” The first thing Cocytus did after their master had left the Throne Room was bow low and thank his comrade.
Demiurge flashed his usual smile. “That’s not necessary.”
“I INSIST. WE WOULD HAVE HAD TO KILL ALL THE LIZARDMEN IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU.”
“I said you don’t have to worry about it, Cocytus. I think this is what Lord Ainz wanted from the start.”
Someone answered “Huh?” to Demiurge and his single raised finger. Cocytus had the feeling it could have been him or one of the other guardians.
“In other words, I think he made you general in the attack on the lizardman village because he anticipated the remarks you made earlier. He appeared extremely happy when you said you were against destroying the villages, and he seemed disappointed when you couldn’t make a counterproposal.”
“You mean he was disappointed because things didn’t go according to plan?”
“That’s right, Shalltear. In other words, there is a very high probability that all the things that were said here were according to his plan.”
“He was able to foresee everything? I’d expect nothing less from Lord Ainz!”
“B-but, you know, uh, er…”
“…Spit it out!” Aura sharply urged on her fidgeting little brother.
“I—I am! Uh, I was wondering why we used such weak undead. Uh, um, like, well, just maybe, but uh…maybe he assumed we would lose?”
“Or rather than losing, perhaps he thought Cocytus would investigate how strong they were and advise on whether or not we could win.”
Cocytus remembered his talk with Demiurge, and the same shame welled up inside him. So he’d been doing it all wrong.
“That plan would be impossible to make without knowing Cocytus’s personality inside out. Magnificent, Lord Ainz…”
“I learned during the duel with Shalltear that Lord Ainz’s skill as a fighter is exceptional, but he’s also a brilliant strategist. I really admire him. He says all those nice things, but we’re just his pawns.” Demiurge gave his remarks as the most brilliant mind among the Nazarick guardians.
“He is simply too amazing. Perhaps he just arrived to lead the Supreme Beings on a whim?” Shalltear shivered with joy as she spoke of their master, and the other guardians nodded in agreement.
•
Ainz returned to his room and dove into bed. After being airborne for an unusually long time, his body clumsily sank into the mattress. Then…he rolled around for a bit.
To the right, to the left.
It was something he could do only because the bed was so gigantic. Ainz rolled back and forth, giggling a little, paying not the slightest attention to the fact that his luxurious robe was getting all wrinkled. Of course, he was acting like a little kid only because no one else was in the room.
Eventually, after returning sufficiently to childlike innocence and enjoying the softness of the bed to the fullest degree, he lay there and stared at the ceiling.
“Man, I’m beat… I wanna throw back some drinks and get totally wasted…but I can’t do either,” he grumbled and heaved a sigh—albeit an imitation sigh, since he didn’t actually breathe.
Because he was undead, neither physical nor mental exhaustion affected him, but every day of the past month or so had taken a toll on his human mental state. If he weren’t undead, he would’ve had stomach trouble for sure.
There was a lot of pressure on Ainz in his position.
Momon the warrior defeated a silver-haired vampire—Shalltear. For someone who knew nothing, it was simply an amazing feat, but for the ones who had used the World Item on Shalltear, it held a different meaning. There was a high probability they would come after him or try to contact him.
For that reason, Ainz was always on alert and carried cash store items so he could make a quick getaway at any time. In his free time, still on guard, he role-played (or image trained) in his head how to figure out how to run away while gathering intelligence in the event they tried to make contact.
Those tense days had no effect on Ainz Ooal Gown, but the vestiges of the human Satoru Suzuki were a wreck. The moment he was alone in a free and open space, away from the pressure of having to act like the ruler of Nazarick, he had probably regressed to a childlike state not out of Ainz’s wishes but because Satoru Suzuki had been stretched thin and wanted to act out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever worked this long without a day off… I wonder how much overtime I get this month?” This flavor of mumbled griping, too, was perhaps Satoru Suzuki strongly manifesting. “The Great Tomb of Nazarick…no, Ainz Ooal Gown… It’s not really a corporation. We are a limited partnership and a fair company that guarantees its workers overtime pay…” After grumbling a little, he furrowed his nonexistent brow. “Hmm? There are managerial bonuses, so I don’t get overtime? Ahhhhh!” He began rolling back and forth again. After five laps, he stopped on a dime. “Now then…enough with this nonsense… But wow, I can’t belive Cocytus said all that stuff!”
He hadn’t imagined that such a thing was possible. Cocytus wanted to show the lizardmen mercy?
That was a real problem for Ainz.
Satoru Suzuki’s personality was such that he went into presentations with plenty of documents prepared. He wasn’t very good at dealing with unexpected questions, but if the answer was written down in his documents, he could just read it. In other words, to Satoru Suzuki, the key to a good presentation was doing enough research that he could answer any question thrown at him. With such an outlook, he wasn’t very good at adapting on the fly—no, he’d gone past that. He hated it.
Of course, he couldn’t march into the Throne Room with documents and say, Now, please take a look at the next page. That was why he’d gone over what would happen in the Throne Room in his head more than ten times, hoping all the while that no one would do anything that would take him by surprise.
Cocytus had shattered that tiny hope.
He’d been really nervous about what Cocytus was going to say, but he was glad he’d said it. He felt a kind of familial happiness, like when a quiet child says something selfish for the first time. Above all, Cocytus had grown far more than he’d expected him to.
One time when Ainz returned to Nazarick, he had had a maid cook for him. He had requested a steak. Taking into consideration things like how well-done it should be would have required some practice, but he didn’t ask for anything terribly complicated. And he wasn’t asking for any stat bonuses like one would get from cooked food in Yggdrasil. As long as he could eat it, there wouldn’t have been any problem.
But the result of her cooking was just a black lump.
No matter how many times that maid cooked, the only outcome was carbonized meat.
While accepting her sincere apologies, Ainz had been satisfied with the expected result. It was the same as when he had tried to equip a great sword in his dressing room.
In Yggdrasil, a specific skill was needed in order to cook. Perhaps that was only natural, since eating and drinking gave temporary ability boosts. That maid didn’t have the skill.
In short, without the skill, try as one might, cooking would end in failure.
With the Cocytus exercise, Ainz had tried partially as an experiment to see if beings who had already been created, like Ainz and the others, could still gain new skills. If Cocytus could gain tactical and strategic knowledge, that would be evidence for the possibility that Ainz and the others could still grow. The reason he’d made Cocytus command such weak undead was simply because he figured there was more to learn from defeat.
And he was satisfied with the results. Cocytus had shown that growth was feasible.
Of course, mastering techniques and gaining knowledge were two very different things.
Ainz’s aim for the future, if he had one, was to become proficient in this world’s unique system of magic. Was magic techniques or knowledge? Ainz still wasn’t sure. But now he had tested for the knowledge case, at least.
Cocytus had taught him that growth was possible. He’d done a fine job.
Lack of growth is stagnation, plain and simple. Even if I’m counted among the strong now, someday I’ll get overtaken, Ainz thought.
Even if he had military technology from a hundred years in the future, if he stopped progressing there, he would someday fall from the position of the strongest. He might be considered strong within the neighboring countries now, but operating from the assumption that such strength would last forever would make him a fool.
“That said, though I’m happy at our child’s progress, I do worry whether his behavior is appropriate for someone who is supposed to be completely loyal to me…,” Ainz grumbled and looked up at the ceiling. “Ahh, this is so scary…”
The vestiges of the human Satoru Suzuki were shrieking in response to this newest anxiety.
Progress is change. So who could say that the guardians’ current absolute loyalty would remain the same? Even if it did, he was terrified of being judged unworthy to be the ruler of glorious Nazarick, of being branded unfit to be guild master.
“…I have to be a leader worthy of their loyalty… Will anyone give me a crash course in emperor-hood?” There was no one who’d created such a convenient school within the walls of Nazarick, that was for sure.
Ainz mulled over the issue, and two figures came to mind. They were two of the Five Worst—the Prince of Fear and the King of Hungry Prolyferum, royalty both. He seriously considered getting an education from them but in the end dismissed the idea with one word: nope. He didn’t want to be taught by either of them, not unless he was in some dire straits. “Well, I guess it’s fine… As long as I don’t make too many mistakes, I don’t imagine anyone’ll be telling me to retire anytime soon. Other than that… Oh. Bipedal sheep…?”
Ainz had already realized what their true identity must be, which was why he hadn’t asked Demiurge for a description of their appearance. He’d seen a similar monster in Yggdrasil. “Heads of a goat and a lion, tail of a snake. And then arms of a lion, feet of a goat. No doubt about it. Gotta be a khimaira.”
The khimaira in Yggdrasil stood upright on two goat legs and attacked with lion paw arms. It had two heads, a lion’s and a goat’s. It was essentially a baphomet clone, since the developers had used the same graphical data as a base.
Still, that did leave the question of why, if they were khimairas, Demiurge didn’t just say so, but Ainz already knew the answer. “In short, it might be a subspecies of khimaira. That’s it, right, Demiurge?” Ainz giggled. Then he changed his opinion of Demiurge to surprising lack of knack for naming things. “In Yggdrasil, those khimairalords and other different types were kinda… Well, but those fish khimaira looked so bizarre they were sickening. A new type of khimaira…Abellion khimaira… Maybe I should have him bring one here. Then there was…Victim.”
It looked exactly as he’d remembered it, but just one thing was bothering him. “Is that really Enochian, the language the angels are said to speak? It sounds like something else…” Since it was translated, Ainz didn’t know what language it was speaking, but he vaguely sensed something. Of course, it didn’t help that he didn’t know Enochian, either. “Well, whatever… Okay, I guess I have to get ready to head to the front.”
He rolled around one last time, reluctant to leave. And then while he was facedown, he checked something he’d noticed before. He buried his face in the bed and inhaled. Granted, he didn’t have lungs, so it was only an imitation, but for some reason he could still smell.
“There’s a floral scent… Are they perfuming my bed? Is this just what rich people’s beds are like? If so, that’s pretty awesome… I wonder if I should nitpick about stuff like this when I pretend to be a rich person… Hmm…”
3
The power to detect danger. For thieves and others with detection abilities, this was one of the most important skills, and it did exactly what it sounded like.
There were two ways to detect danger. One was sensing a threat immediately without deduction or examination, and the other was accomplished by using deduction based on experience and examination. If a “bad feeling” was an example of the former, then reading slight changes in the environment—a faint smell or noise—was an example of the latter.
The latter was sometimes strengthened without even trying by going to battle or traveling solo. It was experience that came of placing oneself near danger.
And in most cases, creatures like lizardmen were better at it than humans. It was a biological ability that stemmed from their keen sense organs and cruel environment. Humans got to sleep in a safe place away from monsters, but in the lizardmen’s habitat, the monsters were right next door.
It was especially easy for the lone wanderer Zaryusu to catch shifts in the atmosphere outdoors.
Sensing something like tension in the air, Zaryusu popped his eyes open. The familiar scenery of his room (although he’d been sleeping there for only a handful of nights) filled his field of vision. A human wouldn’t have been able to see even if they squinted in this room with no light, but it wasn’t so hard for a lizardman.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Having scanned the room to confirm that, he breathed a faint sigh of relief and shifted.
Because he was such a brilliant warrior, even though he had just been asleep, he was as awake as ever. Not only was he not groggy, but his body was ready to jump into battle at a moment’s notice. This was partly due to how lightly lizardmen slept. But Crusch, lying next to him, showed no signs of waking. She just emitted a disgruntled cry in her sleep at the loss of Zaryusu’s warmth.
Normally Crusch would have felt the change in the atmosphere and woken up as well, but it seemed like this time she couldn’t.
Zaryusu felt just a bit bad, that maybe he’d put too big a burden on her. He recalled the previous night and concluded that maybe her load had been bigger. From defeating the elder lich and everything afterward, it must have been harder on her as a female.
Personally, he wanted to let her sleep. But if he listened carefully, he could hear the sounds of lizardmen rushing around outside. Letting her sleep during an emergency might end up being more dangerous.
“Crusch, Crusch.” He shook her rather forcefully a couple of times.
“Nn, ngh…” Her tail twisted up, and right away her red eyes showed themselves. “Nn, hmnn?”
“Something’s happened.”
With that, her eyes opened fully even though she still wanted to sleep. Zaryusu grabbed Frost Pain from its position nearby and stood up. Crusch followed a moment later.
When they went outside, they saw immediately what had caused the disturbance: a black cloud spread thickly over the village. It was clear immediately from a glance into the distance that this was no normal cloud. The rest of the sky was fair and blue.
In short, it was…
“They’re here…again?”
…a sign that their enemy had returned.
“Seems that way,” Crusch agreed.
The lizardmen of the five tribes who had fought together had also all
noticed the cloud and were making a racket, but there was no sign of fear.
The victory against overwhelming odds in the battle the previous day had strengthened their hearts.
Zaryusu and Crusch splashed toward the main gate at a sprint. They passed by a few lizardmen preparing for combat and reached the gate fairly quickly. Many warriors had already gathered, keeping a close watch on the outside. Zenbel was also there. Next to him was the Small Fang chief.
Zenbel raised a hand in greeting to the two loudly sloshing over and jerked his chin at the scene outside the gate. Zaryusu and Crusch stood next to him and peered beyond the gate.
On the opposite shore, on the boundary between the marsh and the forest, were ranks of skeletons.
“They’re back.”
“Yeah…,” Zaryusu replied to Zenbel and clicked his tongue.
He’d expected this, but it was too soon. Their calculation that it would take some time to recover from such a heavy loss had been completely off. He was surprised they had the power to mobilize an army this big again.
“…At least they’re probably weaker than the skeletons that elder lich summoned.” Reading between the lines, that meant that Zenbel thought these skeletons were stronger than the army from before.
Zaryusu took a close look at the skeletons, too—to see how strong they were, to see how careful the lizardmen needed to be against them. The enemies were certainly all skeletons, but they were definitely different from last time.
What had changed the most visually was their gear. The previous skeletons had had only rusty swords. These skeletons were very well outfitted. Also, maybe it was just in his head, but they even appeared to have better physiques. It seemed like there were three types, each with different gear.
The most numerous wore splendid breastplates, carried shields shaped like a stretched-out inverted triangle—kite shields—in one hand, and held various weapons in the other. On their backs were quivers and composite longbows. They were well prepared for close- or long-range fighting.
The next type had ratty crimson capes flapping behind them over the same breastplate, held round shields and bastard swords, and wore helmets.
Finally, the least numerous type had the most complete gear sets. They wore full plate armor with a magnificent golden gleam and clutched shining lances. Their eye-poppingly crimson capes seemed free of the slightest speck of dirt.
After his initial observations, Zaryusu realized something, and unable to believe his eyes, he rubbed them a few times with his hands. But it was still there—the truth.
“What…? No way…”
“Th-that’s ridiculous…” Zaryusu released a pained murmur at the same time as Crusch’s surprised gasp—they’d realized the same thing.
Then Zenbel reacted. “Yep, you noticed it, too, huh?” His voice was pained like the others’.
“Yeah…” Zaryusu closed his mouth. He didn’t want to say it—because that would just make it worse. But he had to. “Those look like magic weapons, don’t they?”
Crusch, next to him, nodded.
All the weapons the skeletons had were enchanted. One had a sword imbued with fire, another a hammer with blue lightning. There was one holding a spear with a glowing green tip, and even one with a sickle that seemed to be coated in purple goop.
“That’s not all. Take a closer look at their armor and shields… They’re all magic.”
Zaryusu squinted.
Then he groaned in spite of himself. Their glowing wasn’t reflected light but something inside the objects themselves.
How much power do you need to equip that many skeleton soldiers with magic gear? Certainly if the magic was just to make blades sharper, the larger countries Zaryusu had heard of could probably do it if they planned ahead of time. But to imbue each of the weapons with its own attribute—all different kinds of effects—was a different story.
Zaryusu remembered the stories of the dwarves he’d heard from Zenbel the other day.
Dwarves were a mountain race with exceptional metalworking abilities. When they sat down to drink, the sagas they told contained stories of the king who built the Great Dwarven Empire, a hero shrouded in adamantite armor, who killed a dragon at the end of a one-on-one fight, one of the Thirteen Heroes, Magic Mechanic. Even in those tales, there were no armies—certainly not one of more than five thousand—outfitted with that much magic gear.
So what was Zaryusu seeing?
“A mythical army…” If it wasn’t in the stories of the people, it had to be from the stories of the gods.
Zaryusu shook with a single intense shudder. This was completely beyond his expectations. They’d made an enemy out of someone they shouldn’t have.
Still, he had gathered everyone here, fully aware that they might be wiped out. Could the one who’d come up with such a cruel plan be afraid now? Their enemy was unimaginably strong. He knew that. The question was what to do about it.
“That can’t be real. It has to be an illusion.”
For a split second, everyone there asked the same wordless question: What are you talking about? The skeletons were maintaining a completely motionless stance, but they seemed distinctly substantial, and their presence was powerful enough to give one the chills. They couldn’t be anything so flimsy as an illusion.
The confusing thing was that the one who’d said it was the Small Fang chief. He definitely hadn’t gone crazy.
“What basis do you have for saying that?”
He confidently responded to Zaryusu’s question. “We’ve been sending scouts out on rotation. None of them saw any undead like that, and it’s not like they could have just overlooked that many. All the scouts have come back safe, too.”
“I see… But it sure doesn’t seem like an illusion to me.”
“But…well, maybe not. But if it’s not, then they must have tunneled their way here. That would explain why we didn’t see them.”
“…I don’t care if they tunneled or flew—what are we gonna do? They don’t seem to want to start a fight right away, but I don’t get the feeling they came here to negotiate!”
“Yeah… If it’s like last time, they’ll make some kind of move…”
Zaryusu stared at the skeletons. He was trying to make out who the commander was when a shivery wind blew past him. It wasn’t just one gust—the wind kept blowing.
He was positive the strange, abrupt chill was no natural phenomenon but brought about by magic.
“The wind is—? Huh? …No way! It’s a different spell…? But it can’t be…” Crusch shivered, hugging her body.
Her reaction wasn’t just from the cold, which was why Zaryusu asked, “Crusch, where did this freezing wind come from?”
“…You might not believe me, but listen, Zaryusu. Up until now, I thought the change in the weather was caused by the tier-four spell Control Cloud. But it’s not. Control Cloud can manipulate clouds, but it can’t create a cold wind like this. That means…the power isn’t manipulating clouds but changing the weather and climate. In other words, someone cast the tier-six spell Control Weather…at least, that’s what I think.” She added in a voice so small no one could hear, “I don’t know for sure, since it’s a realm of magic I can’t use myself.”
Zaryusu knew how awesome the power of the sixth tier was. Even Iguvua, the most powerful enemy he’d faced since taking up a sword, couldn’t use it. It was the supreme tier, said to be the highest in the world.
“Is this…the power of the Great One or whoever? That…definitely makes sense…” Calling someone who can use tier-six magic “great” was not an exaggeration.
“Whoa, everybody and their brother is bummin’ out.” Zenbel’s complaint was an apt description of the atmosphere.
This weather was unseasonably cold—that is, their environment had changed in an impossible way. The lizardmen’s morale was dropping sharply.
Last time it had just been the appearance of a cloud. They could deal with this degree of cold by building a bonfire and having the priests perform a ritual, but the autumn wind had taught the lizardmen that their opponents had the power to warp nature, the uncontrollable.
They didn’t need to hear Crusch’s explanation to understand the immense power of their enemy—the wind nipping at them said it all.
“Tch! Those bastards—they’re on the move.” Zaryusu ground his teeth. His tail was trying to flail, but he willed it not to. Are you really gonna do that now?
When the orderly rows of skeletons began marching forward with precisely measured steps, the warrior lizardmen grew agitated, and some made warning growls. But Zaryusu, observing their movements, made a different judgment: Those aren’t combat movements.
Just when Zaryusu and Zenbel raised their voices to calm down the shaken lizardmen—
“Calm down!”
—a jarring shout ripped through the air.
Everyone turned to see Shasuryu.
“I’ll say it again. Calm down.” A silence fell, and the only sound was his confident, dignified voice. “And don’t be afraid, warriors. Don’t do anything that would disappoint the many ancestral spirits behind you.” He wove his way through the quiet lizardmen and stood next to Zaryusu. “What are they up to, Zaryusu?”
“Brother, they’re on the move, but it doesn’t look like combat prep.”
“Mph.”
The marching skeletons formed ten rows of five hundred.
“What are they planning to do?”
As if they’d been waiting for the question, the skeletons began to advance again. With perfect control, the rows parted to the left and right from the middle, not a single skeleton out of place. Between the two sides, they left about a twenty-skeleton gap. In that space, there was a lone figure.
The shape wasn’t all that big. Even at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards, Zaryusu could tell it was smaller than him. It wore a raven-black robe and gave off an ominous, evil aura. Its resemblance to the elder lich they had fought the previous day suggested it was a caster. There was, however, one very different thing about this one, and that was its strength.
When he saw it, ice crept up Zaryusu’s spine. He knew instinctively that the difference in power between the elder lich of yesterday and this thing was like the difference between a toddler and a warrior.
It gushed a frigid evil from its entire being. He could feel it even at this distance. And that wasn’t all. Its gear was also on another level.
An absolute ruler had appeared in the form of inescapable death.
“The…ruler of death?” Zaryusu surprised even himself as he uttered the most fitting words for the monster. And he’d hit the nail on the head.
It truly was the lord who ruled over death.
“…Ooh!”
What was the ruler of death going to do?
The lizardmen, watching with bated breath, all simultaneously shouted in surprise. A magic circle about ten yards across had suddenly spread out around the caster as a huge dome. It gave off a pale-blue glow, and patterns like translucent letters or symbols appeared on it. These characters changed at a dizzying rate; the same pattern didn’t linger for even an instant. The way the pale light kept shifting as it illuminated the area was fantastic, and if it hadn’t been the work of their enemy, they probably would have been captivated. Now, though, they weren’t at all.
What is that? Not comprehending what he was seeing, Zaryusu was confused. He’d never seen a huge dome projected into the air like that when a caster used magic. The action his opponent was taking was entirely outside the realm of his knowledge. So he asked the female who probably knew the most about magic out of anyone there. “What in the world is that?”
“I—I don’t know. I have no idea what it is!” she replied, sounding scared. Apparently she was especially frightened precisely because she knew about magic and still couldn’t recognize the spell.
The moment after he was about to calm her—perhaps the spell was cast—the dome burst, and countless sparks of light whirled up into the air. All at once they spread across the sky as if they were exploding and—
—the lake…froze.
Not a single lizardman present understood what had happened—not the uncommonly able tribal chief Shasuryu, not the brilliant priest Crusch, not the experienced traveler Zaryusu. Even these lizardmen with faculties matchless throughout all lizardman history couldn’t immediately comprehend what had taken place, it was so outrageous.
They couldn’t comprehend how their feet were below the ice.
Moments later, after their brains had processed what had just happened before their eyes, the screams went up.
Every lizardman—yes, all of them—shrieked.
Even Zaryusu. Crusch and Shasuryu, and even the one who probably had the most courage, Zenbel. They lost themselves in a fear that welled from the bottom of their hearts and climbed straight out of their souls to manifest in a scream.
It was a reality too horrible. The lake that had never iced over, the lake that had never changed ever since they were born, had warped and frozen.
The lizardmen panicked and pulled their legs up. Luckily, since the ice wasn’t too thick, it broke right away, but it immediately refroze. The chill coming from below—the biting cold—proved they weren’t seeing things.
Flustered, Zaryusu hopped up on a mud wall and surveyed the scene—and the view left him speechless.
Everything in his field of vision was frozen.
Certainly the entire lake couldn’t be frozen, but it was a fact that as far as his eyes could see, everything was covered in ice.
In a corner of his mind, worries about his fish preserve popped up, but now wasn’t the time.
Crusch had hopped next to Zaryusu, and when she surveyed the area, her jaw fell open just like his. The voice from her agape mouth sounded like her soul had left her. “No way…”
Zaryusu didn’t want to believe it, either.
“You monster!” he barked, hoping it would ease the fear.
“Get up now!” Shasuryu’s roar echoed.
Several lizardmen had collapsed. The members of the warrior caste who were all right worked together to pull them out of the frozen marsh.
All the lizardmen being pulled were pale in the face and trembling. The rising chill was probably sapping their life force.
“Brother, I’m going to go check around the village!” Zaryusu had Frost Pain, so this level of chill wouldn’t affect him.
“No…don’t go!”
“Why not?!”
“They’re probably going to make their move. I won’t let you leave us now! Keep an eye on the enemy. I forbid you to miss a single thing! You’ve traveled the world and have all sorts of knowledge—you’re the lizardman for this job.” Shifting his gaze from Zaryusu, Shasuryu called out to the warriors in the area. “I’m going to cast the chill defense spell Ice Energy Protection. Go around the village and tell everyone to stay away from the ice!”
“I’ll cast, too!”
“Great! Then you and I will split up the work. If you see anyone in trouble, cast a healing spell on them.” Crusch and Shasuryu managed to safely begin casting the protective magic on the lizardmen.
Zaryusu stayed up on the mud wall with his keen gaze aimed at the enemy line so as not to miss a single move. He had to do exactly what his brother told him.
“Hup!” Zenbel hopped up on the wall next to him and checked the enemy lines in an easygoing way. “Take it a little easier. Your brother, he’s just like that, right? Has high expectations of your know-how? Even if you miss something, he’s not gonna get mad. More importantly, if you focus too hard, your field of vision’ll shrink!” Zenbel’s unconcerned voice was soothing.
It was just like in the fight with the elder lich; everyone needed to do what they could, and they would add all their efforts together.
Zaryusu looked around and saw that warriors had also jumped up on the wall to observe the enemy. No, he wasn’t fighting alone. He was fighting with a great many friends.
It seemed like he’d been shaken up in the face of such overwhelming power by that display of magic.
Zaryusu exhaled, like he was breathing out something that had festered in his heart.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“…But yeah. You’re here, too.”
“Hmph. Don’t expect much in the brains department!”
They laughed a bit together as they watched the enemy’s movements.
“But yeesh, those are some serious monsters.”
“Yeah. They’re on another level…”
The King of Death, arrogant yet impressive like a true king, was eyeing the lizardman village. His body should have been small, but it seemed to have swelled dozens of times larger.
“…That’s gotta be the guy they call the Great One.”
“Probably. I don’t want to believe that they have more than one monster who can use magic powerful enough to freeze the lake.”
“Seriously. Ahh, I get it. To monsters who can do this kind of stuff, we lizardmen must be like little specks of dirt. Ahh, shit. Ahh, shit! We’re no better than worms! Oh, he’s moving.”
The caster who had frozen the river raised his free hand and waved toward the village. It must be a signal. Zaryusu’s hunch came true in horrifying fashion directly after that.
“Ahhh!” Voices cried out from here and there throughout the village.
“What…is that? What the heck is that?!”
Nothing could surprise him anymore. Or so Zaryusu had thought, but what he saw made him practically shriek involuntarily.
What stood before them was a giant statue with two arms and legs that appeared to be made out of stone. A red light, pulsing almost like a heartbeat, shone through from the bedrock of its thick chest. Solid arms, solid legs. Its squat body might have even been rather cute—if the thing hadn’t stood almost a hundred feet tall.
That gigantic statue had suddenly appeared out of the forest. At this point, believing it was an illusion made more sense.
The giant statue moved slowly, raising up a huge boulder from who knew where.
Then the hulking creature threw it.
Zaryusu instinctively covered his face. All those in the gigantic stone’s path would surely die.
In the darkness their world had become, Zaryusu was struck at once by a tremendous rumbling and a sound like an explosion. The wall beneath him swayed intensely, creaking.
Along with a roar like heavy rain—the kicked-up dirt falling back to the ground—from the village came the cries of not only children but adults as well.
Despite having braced themselves, they were unable to withstand this fear that was beyond anything they could have imagined. Even though they’d made it through the previous battle, this was enough to regress them to small children.
Relieved he had his life, Zaryusu timidly opened his eyes to see the undead army beginning to move. The giant statue was gone.
They approached the newly fallen huge stone, lying in the marsh about midway between the two groups; held their flat shields over their heads; and crouched down. More skeletons, nimbly keeping their balance, got up on the shields of the first ones and then held their own shields up in the same way.
Zaryusu shook like he’d been struck by lightning when he understood what they were doing. “Are they building stairs? Who uses troops that would inspire songs of praise in legends to build stairs?!”
They worked toward the top of the rock at an uncanny speed, and the staircase built out of the undead army took shape.
Then some other undead soldiers began to move—about a hundred even more magnificent undead. In their hands they clutched spears like lancers might hold, decorated with fabric: crimson cloth with the same crest stitched into each pennon.
They stepped now into the marsh in perfect alignment, crimson capes fluttering behind them. They proceeded without speaking, crunching the ice under their feet. They really were in perfect order, maintaining their intervals as they advanced across the marsh, then crossing their lances with the warriors opposite them.
The alternating lances formed a corridor leading up the rock.
“A path for the king…?” Zenbel was exactly right.
The caster of death stepped into the corridor of undead. No one knew when the figures following him had appeared.
In front stood the caster, whose power was now impossible to fathom. He was clad in a robe so black it appeared to be cut from darkness. The staff in his hand radiated a dark-red aura. Inside it, anguished human faces would form, warp, and dissipate. The face beneath the hood was skeletal. A crimson color flickered in his vacant orbits. He was equipped with an abundance of magic accessories impossible for Zaryusu to comprehend and walked forward with the majestic gait of a king.
Attending slightly behind the King of Death was a woman in white. Her appearance was humanlike, but a few things suggested otherwise. Like the wings at her hips.
“Could that be…a demon?”
Demons.
A moniker that encompassed beings from the netherworld, such as fiends, which caused destruction with violence, and devils, which caused depravity with their wits. They were the height of wickedness; the purpose of their existence was to ruin every intelligent, good person. In other words, these monsters were synonyms for evil.
Zaryusu had heard of their kind on his travels: how horrible they were, how about two hundred years ago a monster worthy of being called the King of Demons—an evil spirit—came with its underlings and nearly destroyed the world.
In the end, the Thirteen Heroes defeated them, and even now scars from that battle remained in some places.
If undead were beings that hated the living, then demons existed to torment them.
Behind the demon walked a pair of dark-elf twins, followed by a silver-haired girl. Then came a strange monster that glided through the air, and finally a man like a human with a tail.
The strange monster was the only one who didn’t seem immensely powerful—all the others were enough to make the entire length of Zaryusu’s tail quiver. His wild instincts were urging him: Run away as fast as you can!
The party walked silently up the stairs beneath the pennons. They stepped on the undead soldiers with zero hesitation and ascended to the top of the giant rock like champions.
The King of the Dead at the front of the line moved his hands.
Upon the sudden appearance of a tall throne that sparkled raven black, he sat down.
The ones behind him, who appeared to be aides, lined up and turned their gazes to the village as if they were watching for something. But they didn’t do anything else.
What in the world is this?
A few lizardmen glanced at one another anxiously. They decided to leave the decision-making to the cleverest one present.
“Uh, er, what should we do, Mr. Zaryusu? Should we get ready to run?” The voice contained not the slightest will to fight. The lizardman’s tail was drooping helplessly, speaking volumes for his internal state.
“No, no need for that. Think back to the time with the elder lich. This caster seems way more powerful than that, right? He should have no problem ignoring this distance and unleashing an attack right now. He probably…has something he wants to say.”
The lizardman seemed to understand. Without taking his eyes off the advancing attendants, Zaryusu continued observing the immensely powerful monster on top of the rock as if he were one of the masses looking up at his king.
He was determined to not miss a thing.
At this distance he was able to observe quite a lot of detail, and their eyes even met.
Was the King of Death observing him, too? The lack of hostility from the dark elves was surprising. The silver-haired girl had a smug grin. The demon was horrifying in how kind she seemed. He wasn’t sure about the strange monster. He couldn’t sense any emotion from the eyes of the man with the tail.
After enough time had passed for them to observe each other, the King of Death once again brought his free hand up near his chest.
Several lizardmen reacted by flailing their tails in distress.
“Don’t be afraid. Don’t show the enemy that shameful display!” Zaryusu’s reprimand cut like a knife, and the lizardmen in the area all straightened.
Multiple black hazes appeared before the King of Death—twenty, to be exact. The swirling mists swelled to about five feet high. Before long, myriad faces had formed within them.
“Those are…” Zaryusu recalled the monster that had come to the villages and the undead he’d encountered on his travels.
He’d given a rough explanation back in Crusch’s village—how it was really only possible to damage this type of insubstantial monster by using enchanted weapons, weapons made of certain metals, magic, or certain martial arts.
Even with all the lizard tribes put together, they had only a handful of magic weapons. In other words, it would be hard to take out even one of this particular type of undead. And their opponent could spawn twenty of them like it was nothing.
“I guess that’s what it means to be the ruler of death…” I can see why that elder lich, who was plenty powerful in his own right, would devote himself completely to this being, Zaryusu thought, losing heart.
The caster on the rock murmured something and waved his hand in a way that said, Go!
The undead flew to surround the village and said in unison, “We relay the words of the Great One. The Great One would like to speak with you. The one who shall represent you will step forward immediately. Know that taking too long will only displease the Great One.”
Upon making their declaration, the incorporeal monsters flew back to their creator and master.
“Huh? —The heck? That’s all?” Zaryusu’s mouth gaped idiotically. So he used those powerful undead just to tell us that?
But what he really couldn’t believe was what happened at a signal from the ruler of death, when the silver-haired girl brought her hands swiftly together.
The moment her hands connected…the hazy undead ceased to exist.
“Whaaat?!” Zaryusu was so surprised he shouted in spite of himself.
They hadn’t returned the summoned monsters but just wiped them out.
Eliminating undead like that was something the priest class could do. Usually they had enough trouble just exorcizing them, but with a big enough disparity in power, it was possible to annihilate them. But doing so to a large number would be much harder.
In other words, the silver-haired girl was equal to the King of Death despite being his follower. The other followers lined up with her were probably just as powerful.
“Heh-heh-heh…” Zaryusu couldn’t stop laughing. Of course he couldn’t. What else was there to do but laugh? This stark power imbalance was just—
“Zaryusu!”
“Oh, brother!” Hearing the voice from below the wall, Zaryusu looked down to find Shasuryu and Crusch.
They climbed up and examined the caster’s party.
Crusch crammed herself between Zaryusu and Zenbel. She nearly caused Zenbel to fall, but he decided to let it slide.
“So that’s the enemy boss? Just looking at him makes me start to expect a knife in the back. He looks like the elder lich you guys beat, but…he’s probably way stronger, huh?”
“…Did you finish on your end?”
“Mph, pretty much. Crusch and I are both out of magical energy. And from what those messengers said…we have to take care of that first. About that…will you come with me?”
For a few moments, Zaryusu just regarded Shasuryu in silence. Then he nodded emphatically.
For a split second, Shasuryu made a pained expression, but before anyone else could notice, his usual face returned. “Sorry.”
“No worries, brother.”
With that, Shasuryu hopped off the wall. The thin ice over the marsh broke, and a splash rang out. “Okay, we’re off.”
“Be careful.”
Zaryusu gave Crusch a tight hug and then hopped down into the marsh after his brother.
Zaryusu and Shasuryu walked over, crunching through the ice. As they exited the village gate, Zaryusu felt the King of Death’s gaze on them as if it exerted physical pressure. And from behind, he sensed concerned looks—the strongest one must have belonged to Crusch. He desperately suppressed the intense emotions that made him ache with longing.
Abruptly breaking their silence, Shasuryu spoke. “…Sorry.”
“Why, brother?”
“…Because if this talk goes badly, we’re sure to be killed as an example.”
Zaryusu knew that. That was why he’d squeezed Crusch so tightly.
“…Considering how many there are of them, I couldn’t let you go alone. Besides, they’d probably think we were making light of them if we only sent one.”
Zaryusu was a lizardman people knew and an appropriate second for the dialogue, but caste-wise he was a traveler. If he were killed, it wouldn’t greatly affect lizardman solidarity.
Even if a hero died, as long as the chiefs were still around, the lizardmen could fight. It would be a shame if they lost Frost Pain, but he couldn’t have left it behind—he needed it to withstand the chill coming off the frozen lake.
The pair walked in silence—one step, then another closer to death.
When they reached the bottom of the undead stairs leading to the throne, they called out. If the throne had been set back from the edge, they might have gone up, but since there was no room for them, it probably wasn’t the King of Death’s intention to have them climb the stairs.
The king would stand on higher ground.
Lizardmen didn’t have the custom that many other races had, that superiors should be elevated. Of course, considering they’d come for a discussion, one could say this treatment was rude.
In other words, it could mean only that their enemy had called them there under the guise of a dialogue but had absolutely zero interest in talking to them.
But really it was presumptuous of them to expect equal treatment. Certainly Zaryusu and the others had won the previous battle, but one look at the enemies lined up on that rock and they had to admit, even if they didn’t like it, that their win was meaningless. It’d been nothing more than child’s play.
“Here we are! I am the representative of the lizardmen, Shasuryu Shasha. And this is the strongest lizardman!”
“Zaryusu Shasha!”
Still, there was no sense from their voices that they were trying to curry favor. They knew it was foolish. It was their last bit of pride. That battle may have been child’s play to their enemy, but they couldn’t let the pride of the warriors who had died be for nothing.
There was no reply. The king on his throne only gave them an openly appraising once-over; there was no sign of movement.
The one who answered was the demon with black wings sprouting from her hips. “Our master doesn’t believe you’re in the appropriate posture to hear him speak!”
“…What?”
In response to their confusion, the woman called to the one like a man with a tail, who was standing next to her. “Demiurge!”
“You will bow down.”
Suddenly Zaryusu and Shasuryu got down on their knees and plunged their heads into the muddy marsh. They couldn’t help but think it was the right thing to do.
Frigid, muddy water clung to their bodies, and the broken ice refroze.
They essentially couldn’t get back up. No matter how much strength they put into moving, they didn’t budge. Their bodies were robbed of all freedom, as if a giant invisible hand were pressing down on them from above.
“Don’t struggle.”
The moment this second command reached their ears, somewhere in both Zaryusu and Shasuryu a new brain grew—one that would listen to someone else’s orders—and they sensed themselves moving according to it.
Seeing the two weakened lizardmen bowing humiliatingly into the mud, the demon lady seemed satisfied and spoke to her master. “Lord Ainz, it appears they’ve assumed the listening posture.”
“Thanks… Raise your heads.”
“You are permitted to raise your heads.”
Moving the only part of their bodies that they could freely, Zaryusu and Shasuryu looked up as if in awe of his supremeness.
“I…am the ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Ainz Ooal Gown. I offer you my thanks for assisting with that experiment earlier.”
Experiment? We lost that many of our friends and he calls it an experiment?! Violent emotion at the horror of it blazed up as a flame in Zaryusu’s heart, but he held it back. It was still too soon.
“Now then, what I’d like to discuss is…you entering under our rule.”
Shasuryu was about to say something, but the caster Ainz stopped him by raising a hand slightly. Realizing nothing good would come of ignoring him and speaking, Shasuryu obediently kept quiet.
“But I’m sure you don’t want to be ruled by the army you just defeated in battle. So we’re going to attack you again in four hours. If you can claim victory yet again, I promise to withdraw entirely. I’ll even pay an adequate amount of reparations.”
“…May I ask a question?”
“That’s fine. Ask away.”
“Will the one attacking be you…Sir Gown?”
The silver-haired girl behind him moved her eyebrows slightly, and the lady demon’s smile intensified. Perhaps they didn’t feel the address was up to their master’s level. The reason they didn’t do anything about it must have been because he didn’t respond.
Paying no attention to them, Ainz continued, “Ha, no. The one attacking is a trusted aide of mine…just one man. His name is Cocytus.”
Hearing that, Zaryusu was assaulted by despair, as if the world were crumbling. If the enemy were going to attack in numbers, the lizardmen might have had a chance—that is, maybe it would have been more of the same unpleasant army from the day before. In that case, they would have had a slim chance of winning.
But that chance was gone.
It would be a solo attacker.
An army that had lost once already, after displaying this much force, would send a single man to attack? Unless it was some kind of punishment for the attacker in question, they had complete faith in him.
Someone a being with unfathomable power trusted… There was only one thing that person could be: another with unfathomable power—such that the lizardmen stood no chance of winning.
“We’ll surren—”
“Don’t be boring and say you’ll surrender before you’ve even fought. C’mon, let’s fight a bit. We’d like to taste a proper victory.”
As if robbing Shasuryu of his words, Ainz crushed the end of his sentence.
In short, you mean to make an example of us? You scum, Zaryusu snapped in his head.
As the stronger power, they would expunge the reality of their loss with a massacre. In other words, what was about to occur was ritual sacrifice, nothing less than a trampling of the lizardmen in order to rob them completely of their will to rebel.
“That’s all I wanted to discuss. I’ll be watching in four hours, so make it entertaining!”
“Please wait! Will this ice melt?”
Win or lose, it would be brutal for the lizardmen to live on the frozen lake.
“Ohhh…right.” He’d forgotten. His tone was that flippant. “I just didn’t want to get all muddy walking in the marsh. Once we get back to the other side, I’ll cancel the spell’s effects.”
“Wha—?!” Both Zaryusu and Shasuryu gasped in shock, unable to believe their ears.
He froze it because he didn’t want to get muddy?!
The expression This can’t be! wasn’t nearly strong enough. The power imbalance was too great. This was a being who could bend the powers of nature like it was nothing—and for any stupid whim he wished.
This is who we’ve been up against? Both Zaryusu and Shasuryu were assailed by the fear of lost children.
“All right, farewell, lizardmen. Gate.” Having said everything he’d come to say, Ainz waved his hand slightly. A hemisphere of darkness appeared before the throne, and he disappeared into it.
“Good-bye, lizardmen.”
“Later, lizardmans.”
“Fare ye well, lizardmen.”
The two women and single boy who had been in attendance addressed them disinterestedly and followed their master into the darkness.
“U-umm, er, well, take care.”
“Eggshell teal, clay-ebony-cinnabar-lime-white. ”
The dark-elf girl and the strange monster were swallowed up by the darkness.
“You may go free. Well, give us some fun, lizardmen.”
The man with the tail was the last to disappear, and when his gentle voice echoed out, the weights holding down the pair of lizardmen melted away.
Left suddenly alone, still prostrate in the mud, Zaryusu and Shasuryu no longer had the energy to rise.
The freezing chill of the marsh didn’t even bother them anymore. The shock to their minds was far more intense.
“Dammit…” An uncharacteristic utterance coming from Shasuryu. It contained a mixture of emotions.
When Zaryusu and Shasuryu returned, the chiefs of each tribe, who had climbed up on the mud walls to evade the ice, were there to meet them. There were no other lizardmen in the area.
They’d probably figured they would need to discuss in secret. So Shasuryu probably thought he didn’t need to hide anything. He spoke frankly, relaying every last detail of the so-called “discussion.”
There was no big reaction to his heavy tale; everyone’s breath just caught slightly. They had probably guessed what sort of “negotiations” would take place.
“Got it. ’N what about the ice? We can’t fight if it doesn’t melt.”
“That won’t be a problem. He said he would cancel the spell.”
“That’s what you got out of the negotiations, huh?”
Shasuryu just smiled faintly in response to the Small Fang tribe chief’s question.
Comprehending his meaning, the chief cheerlessly shook his head. “While you were out, we did some investigating, you see, and…there are enemies inside the lake. They look like skeleton soldiers. It seems like they’re standing by in positions surrounding the village.”
“No…let…escape.”
“So they’re really serious about this…”
“I guess so.”
The four who hadn’t met the ruler sighed. Perhaps they had also arrived at the conclusion that it would be a ritual sacrifice.
“Well, what’ll we do?”
“Mobilize all warriors. As well as…everyone he—”
“Brother…could we do it with just five?” Keeping a slightly confused Crusch in his field of vision, Zaryusu continued his petition to not only Shasuryu but also all the males. “Their intention is to put on a show of their overwhelming power, so I doubt they’ll kill us all. If that’s the case, then we’ll need a leader to unite the survivors. If you think about the future of lizardmankind, it would be a waste for all of us here to die.”
Two chiefs looked between Zaryusu and Crusch and voiced their agreement.
“…He’s right, don’t you think, Shasuryu?”
“Yes. Zaryusu, true.”
Then, having gotten Zenbel’s approval—“Sounds good! Fine by me!”—Shasuryu no longer had any reason to veto his brother’s wishes. “Okay, let’s do that. Someone needs to survive and lead the tribe. I was thinking that as well. Crusch is the right person for the job. Being an albino might be a minus, but her priest skills will be indispensible.”
“Wait just a minute! I’m going to fight with you!” Crusch shouted, wondering why they were leaving her behind so late in the game. “Besides, if someone’s going to stay behind, wouldn’t Shasuryu be better? He’s the chief everyone trusts the most!”
“That’s why he’s no good. Their intention is to show us their overwhelming power. They’re probably aiming to make us lose heart so they can conquer us easier. So if there was a lizardman left alive who gave everyone hope…”
“And…out of all us chiefs and so on here, you actually have the worst reputation.”
Crusch didn’t know what to say. It was the undeniable truth that she, the albino, was least popular.
Convincing them with words will be impossible, she thought and turned to Zaryusu. “I’m going with you. Didn’t you have me resign myself when you called me to follow you here? And now you’re gonna tell me this?”
“…Back then, depending on the situation, everyone might have died, but now it seems like one of us will be able to make it.”
“Don’t give me that!” The air seemed to crackle with Crusch’s anger. Several strikes sounded against the mud wall. The intense emotion was making her tail go out of control.
“Zaryusu, you convince her. See you in four hours.” With that, Shasuryu walked off. Following a moment later were the crack of breaking ice and some splashes. The other three chiefs had hopped off the wall and gone with him. Zenbel raised a hand in a slight wave without turning around.
After watching them go, Zaryusu turned back to Crusch. “Crusch, please understand.”
“How can I?! Plus, there’s nothing that says for sure that we’ll lose! With my priest powers, we might be able to win!”
How empty those words sounded. Not even Crusch herself believed them.
“I don’t want to send the female I love to her death. Please just grant this foolish male’s wish.”
Crusch embraced him, visibly heartbroken.
“That was a dirty move!”
“Sorry…”
“You’re probably going to die!”
“Yeah…”
That was true. The chance of his survival was low. No, probably just nonexistent.
“In only a week’s time, you stole my heart, and now you’re telling me to just see you off?”
“Yeah…”
“I’m so glad I met you, but it was also horrible luck.”
Crusch’s arms tightened around Zaryusu’s back as if to say she didn’t want them to ever part.
Zaryusu had no words.
What should I say?
What can I say to make it okay?
These thoughts tormented him.
After a little while, Crusch looked up. Her face was full of determination.
He was worried she would say she was going with them no matter what.
Instead she made a clear declaration: “I’m gonna get pregnant!”
“What?!”
“Let’s go!”