…I’m totally rambling…
It was only natural to want to brag—he’d crafted it with his guildmates, but since he’d never been able to take it anywhere, he’d never had the chance to show off. That was no excuse to gush right now, though. He suppressed the urge to keep boasting.
It’s pretty embarrassing actually…
“Well, yeah, that’s about it…”
“W-wow!”
“That’s amazing, Lord Momonga!”
The sparkles in the kids’ eyes made him want to break into a huge grin. Trying to keep a straight face—not that his expressions came through so well via his skull anyway—he continued speaking. “Anyhow, I’d like to do some experiments. Can you get things ready for me?”
“Yes, sir! Understood! I’ll begin preparations right away. And then…is it okay if we watch?”
“Sure, I don’t mind. I’m the only one who can hold it, so you should at least have a look.”
“Yess!” shouted Aura, bouncing around so cute and joyful. Mare couldn’t hide how happy he was, either—his long ears were twitching.
Oh, man. Hey, dignified expression of mine, no slipping, Momonga told himself, mobilizing all his willpower.
“Oh, and Aura, I’ve called all the floor guardians here. They should arrive in less than an hour.”
“Huh? Th-then, we have to get ready to welcome the—”
“No, don’t worry about that. You can just wait for them here.”
“If you say so… Hm? All the floor guardians? So Shalltear will be here, too?”
“All the floor guardians.”
“Ah…” Her ears suddenly drooped.
Mare seemed more or less okay. The backstory had Aura not getting along with Shalltear very well, but his case must have been different.
“How are they going to react…?” Momonga whispered under his breath.
2
A party of about fifty riders galloped across a grassy plain. All of them were equally brawny, but one stood out from all the rest.
There was no word more fitting for him than robust. It was plain even through his breastplate that his whole body was covered in bulging muscles. He was in his thirties. Deep creases formed when he knit his tan brow. His black hair was neatly trimmed and his black eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a dagger.
The rider next to him spoke. “Captain, we’ve almost reached the first village on our patrol.”
“Yes, it seems that way, Vice-Captain.”
This was Gazef Stronoff, pride of the Re-Estize Kingdom and captain of its guard. The village had not yet appeared down his line of sight.
Suppressing his impatience, Gazef maintained a steady speed. Though they weren’t driving their horses to exhaustion, it had been quite a march from the royal capital to here. A hint of fatigue had taken up root in his core. Certainly the same could be said for the horses. It wouldn’t do to burden them any further.
“But I really hope it’s nothing…” The vice-captain spoke again. His voice betrayed his anxiety, and Gazef felt the same.
The mission the king had given them was to “find the imperial knights spotted near the kingdom’s border and subdue them.”
Under normal circumstances, it would have been faster to send soldiers from the nearby city of E-Rantel, but the empire’s knights were strong and well outfitted. The gap between them and the kingdom’s recruits was clear. The only soldiers in the kingdom that had a chance against the knights were the ones directly under Gazef. But it was foolish to leave everything up to them like this. Even just mobilizing some troops to guard the villages until Gazef and his men arrived would probably have been enough to stave off the enemy. There were plenty of other options as well. Just currently, they weren’t being—no, they couldn’t be—taken.
Gazef knew why and it irritated him to no end. He did his best to relax his grip on the reins, but he couldn’t extinguish the blaze of his inner emotions.
“Captain, it’s ridiculous for us to get to the village and then begin the search. And since you brought all of us, couldn’t we divide up the labor? Or better yet, we could hire some adventurers from E-Rantel and ask them to find the knights. Why are we doing it like this?”
“…Don’t say that, Vice-Captain. Nothing good will come of everyone finding out there are imperial knights throwing their weight around inside the kingdom’s borders.”
“Captain, there’s no one to hear us now. I want you to tell me the truth.” A faint smile played across the vice-captain’s face, but it was the exact opposite of a kindly grin. “Are the nobles interfering?” The vice-captain practically spat the words, and Gazef didn’t reply. Because the answer was yes. “So the damned nobles plan to use the victims as pawns in their power struggle? And since this area is directly under the king’s jurisdiction, I suppose they’ll use any suffering as an excuse to make snide remarks.”
“Not all the nobles think that way.”
“I’m sure there are some who, like you say, think of the people. Like the Golden Princess. But how many? …If the king could just take absolute power like the emperor next door, he could ignore the damned nobles and focus on the people.”
“If we force things, sides will be taken and the country will split. Causing an internal conflict with an expansionist empire next door would be even worse for the people.”
“I know, but…”
“Let’s drop it for now…” Leaving it at that, Gazef pursed his lips and turned his penetrating gaze forward.
Black smoke rose from beyond a small hill up ahead—and not just one or two trails. There wasn’t a man present who didn’t know what that meant. Gazef clicked his tongue and kicked his spurs into his horse’s flanks.
The scene that flooded their vision when they crested the hill was what they had expected. The village had been burned to ashes. The scattered house wreckage still standing was like grave markers.
Gazef gave orders in a steely voice. “Company, begin maneuvers. On the double!”
The village was burned to the ground. Only the collapsed remains of houses still bore any resemblance to their former shape. Walking through the wreckage, everything smelled like charred ashes mixed with the stench of blood.
Gazef’s face was steady, no trace of emotion, but that itself showed most clearly what he must have been feeling. The same went for the vice-captain, walking beside him.
Of the more than one hundred villagers, only six had survived. The rest had been massacred—women and children alike, even infants.
“Vice-Captain, escort the survivors to E-Rantel.”
“Please don’t do this! That would be the most…”
“You’re right—it’s a foolish plan. But we can’t just leave them here like this.”
E-Rantel was directly under the king’s jurisdiction and protecting these villages was his job. If they abandoned the survivors, it would be a terrible blow to the king. And it was easy to see that the nobles trying to corner him would make noise about it, too.
And more importantly…
“Please rethink this. We should retreat to E-Rantel for the time being and get ourselves in order.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Captain! I’m sure you realize, but this must be a trap. The timing of the attack on the village lines up too well with our arrival in E-Rantel. They waited for us before committing this atrocity. I’d even venture to say that the fact that they didn’t kill every last person means it can’t be anything but a trap.” The survivors hadn’t managed to escape the knights by running and hiding. The attackers just didn’t kill them. Their aim was probably to force the military to divide their strength to protect them. “Captain, you can’t mean that you’re going to chase them down knowing full well it’s a trap!”
“…That was my intention.”
“Are you serious? Captain. It’s true that you’re strong. I’m sure you could fight one hundred knights and come out victorious. But the empire has a caster. If that old man is with them, it�
��s risky, even for you. You’re not fully outfitted right now, so losing to the Four wouldn’t be out of the question, either. So I’m begging you, please withdraw. No matter how many more villages fell, losing you would be a bigger loss for the kingdom!” In response to Gazef’s silence, the vice-captain continued with pain in his voice. “If you can’t withdraw, then let’s all leave the survivors and go after them.”
“That…is probably the wisest choice, but it would mean abandoning lives that could be saved. Do you really think they could make it if we left them here on their own?”
The vice-captain had no response. He knew the chances were slim. If they didn’t provide an escort and take them somewhere safe, they’d be gone within a few days. Still the vice-captain said—he had to say—“Captain. The most valuable life here is yours. We can’t be worried what happens to the villagers.”
Gazef knew it was killing the vice-captain to say such things, and he was angry at himself for forcing the issue, but he still couldn’t accept it. “I was born a commoner. You were, too, right?”
“Yes. I aspired to the Select because I looked up to you.”
“You lived in a village, right?”
“Yes, that’s why—”
“Death is like a next-door neighbor when you live in a village. It’s not so rare for a monster to attack and kill people, right?”
“Right…”
“Mere soldiers can’t always handle a monster. If you don’t have the money to hire a specialist in monster extermination—an adventurer—all you can do is lie low until it leaves.”
“Right…”
“So, didn’t you ever hope? Hope that a noble would appear in your hour of need? That someone with power would come and save you?”
“It’d be a lie if I said I didn’t, but no one ever came. At least, the nobles of the domain we belonged to never gave us any financial help.”
“So let’s show them we’re different. We’re going to save the villagers.”
The vice-captain’s voice caught as he remembered his past.
“Vice-Captain. Let’s show ’em that there are people out there who will risk their lives despite the danger, that there are strong who will protect the weak!”
The men’s eyes met and exchanged a multitude of emotions.
Finally, the vice-captain spoke, sounding tired but aiming to convey his passion. “…Then I’ll take my men and go. I may be replaceable, but you’re not.”
“Don’t be absurd! There’s a better chance we make it back alive if I go, too. We don’t go to our deaths; we go to save the people.”
The vice-captain’s mouth worked for a moment, then closed. “I’ll choose who will escort the villagers to E-Rantel right away.”
As the sky reddened, human shapes began to appear one after another on the grassy plain. There were forty-five of them. The way they appeared out of nowhere was not due to camouflage, but magic.
One glance was enough to tell they were not mercenaries, travelers, or adventurers. They all looked the same, clad in armored clothing woven out of special metallic thread to prioritize mobility and defense. Due to magical fortification, however, these clothes had even greater defense and, in fact, were more effective than a full suit of armor. Their leather bags weren’t very full and didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone on a journey would carry—that is, as long as they weren’t also magic. The specially made belts around their waists held multiple potions and the mantles draped across their backs radiated magical auras.
Gathering enough magical items for all those people would have been no easy feat, either of coin or in terms of time and effort. Being so well equipped was proof that they had nation-level support behind them. Despite that, there was nothing on any of their gear displaying their rank or affiliation. In other words, they were an unlawful group with reason to hide.
They looked toward the abandoned village. Gazing upon the ruins enveloped in the stench of burning and blood produced not a flicker of emotion in their eyes. They looked on coolly, as if it were a matter of course.
“We let him get away, huh?” A low voice spoke with a hint of disappointment.
“…There was nothing we could do. Have our decoy continue attacking villages. We must lead the beast to its cage.” The man’s sharp gaze followed Gazef and the others as they headed away.
“Tell me where the decoy should strike next.”
3
Momonga prepared to cast a spell, stretching his fingers out slowly toward a straw figure set up in a corner of the arena.
The magic he specialized in was more about secondary effects, like instadeath, than simply dealing damage. For that reason, it didn’t work so well on nonliving targets. A situation like this called for straightforward damage-dealing magic, but he had chosen his class’s ghost tree and beefed up his repertoire with those type of spells. As a result, in terms of damage dealt, he was a few tiers behind magic users who specialized in combat spells.
Momonga peeked at the children—their eyes sparkled with curiosity. The anxiety of whether he could live up to their expectations or not weighed him down.
Next he stole a glance in a different direction, where there were two huge monsters. They stood ten feet tall with inverted triangle figures. Muscles rippled over frames that were a combination of human and dragon. Covering the muscles were scales harder than steel. The monsters had dragon-like faces and tails thick as tree trunks. Despite the lack of wings, they looked very much like dragons standing upright. In their arms, thicker than a man’s torso, they each held some kind of weapon (a sword? a shield?) that was half as long as they were tall. They were dragonkin, employed by Aura via her beast-tamer skills to keep the arena clean. They were only level 55 and had no special abilities to speak of, but the punches they could dish with their strong arms paired with their seemingly inexhaustible health meant they could hold their own against higher-level monsters.
Breathing a little quickly, Momonga turned back to the straw figure. Honestly, having everyone watching with such high expectations is putting me on the spot. The point of this exercise was to check if he could even use a spell or not.
The reason he’d allowed Aura and Mare to watch was so he could show them his power before the others arrived and teach them how foolish it would be to oppose him. Of course, it was impossible for him to imagine these children betraying him, and there was certainly no sign that they might do such a thing, but Momonga wasn’t confident they would remain loyal to him if it turned out he had lost the ability to cast spells.
Aura interacted with him as if they were old acquaintances, but from Momonga’s perspective they might as well have met for the first time. Of course, her background was all based on ideas from the guild and both of the children were guild member–created treasures, but it wasn’t as if all their behavioral patterns, their responses to any situation, were set in stone. There was definitely what Momonga supposed could be called a “loophole” in their settings.
If they were intelligent living things that thought and behaved autonomously, they would eventually come across a situation that their bios did not prepare them for. And how would things turn out if there was nothing in there about devoting themselves to their master even if he was weak? Actually, there were probably more cases where loyalty was not specified at all, in which case obeying orders or not all came down to individual judgment. If disobeying was as far as it went, that was fine, but what if someone wanted to rebel against the guild master if they thought he wasn’t cutting it?
Being more skeptical than necessary was a problem, but it was also stupid to blindly trust them. I’ll just have to feel it out as I go. That was what made the most sense to Momonga under the circumstances.
His other aim in having the twins there was to get advice in the event he couldn’t cast a spell. They thought he was there to test the staff. He already knew magic items worked, so he could wield as much deception as necessary.
My plan is perfect.
He patted h
imself on the back and wondered if he had always been so sharp and composed, but there was no one who could answer that question for him.
Momonga cleared the doubts from his mind and considered the magic he’d been able to use in Yggdrasil. The total number of magic spells in Yggdrasil, from tiers one to ten, plus super tier, was well over six thousand. These were split into various trees, but of the total, Momonga could use 718. Normally a level-100 player could use about three hundred, so that was an insane amount.
Not only that, but he’d memorized them all so he could choose the most appropriate spell for every situation—including this one. First, since friendly fire was on, he had to know what the area of effect would look like, so he would have to select a spell not based on how many enemies, but based on the area. And if this is my target, then…
In Yggdrasil, all he’d had to do to cast a spell was tap an icon, but he couldn’t do that anymore, so he had to find another way. He thought he might already have it partially mastered. He focused on the powers deep inside him, just as he had when he’d turned off Negative Touch. Just imagine there are icons floating in the air… He laughed to himself. I got it.
He had a perfect grasp of what the area of effect would be and how much time it would take before he could cast again. The confidence in his ability came with a serious high—the fulfillment and satisfaction of knowing that his magic was truly his own power. He’d never felt like this in Yggdrasil.
As if transmuting the delight that had bubbled up inside him—his swiftly calming mind intensified the high—he gathered it at his fingertips and spoke the word of power: “Fireball!”
A ball of flames grew from the tip of his finger, shot off at the straw figure he was pointing at, and hit just where he’d aimed. The ball burst on impact, instantly scattering the flames it had contained. The expanded flames raged through the area, even scorching the ground, in a flash.
The Undead King Page 7
