“Are you all right? I’ll take over from here, so please go back and rest.”
The man completely ignored the Blue Roses, even though they had their weapons at the ready, and spoke gently to the bug maid. It was enough to make him likable despite being an enemy, but not to Evileye.
The horror that had made it all the way to her toes wasn’t going away.
Her survival instincts kicked in. She lowered her voice and frantically told Gagaran and Tia, “…Run. Idiot, don’t look this way. Stay quiet and listen. That guy is…incredibly strong. A monster among monsters. Run away as fast as you can and don’t look back.”
“…What are you going to do?” Gagaran asked, distraught.
“Don’t worry about it. Once I’ve bought enough time for you two to escape, I’ll teleport away immediately.”
It wasn’t clear how, but the injured maid who shouldn’t have been able to move staggered to her feet. It didn’t seem like she’d used healing magic nor that she’d quaffed any medicine, either.
A bug flew over from out of sight, attached to her back, and took off into the night sky. The maid howled shrilly as she flew away.
The Blue Roses had let her escape from right under their noses, but it was more important for Evileye to not take her eyes off the man before them. That went for the other two as well. Their foreheads were slick with sweat, and they stood frozen.
After watching the maid go, the man turned to Evileye and the others.
Evileye had been alive for over two hundred and fifty years—she’d seen countless powerful beings. The aura hammering into her now was on a whole different level.
No, this sickeningly hideous malice was incomparable to any other.
In terms of strength, he was probably equal to the platinum dragonlord. He was so powerful, she couldn’t tell for sure.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting. Now then, I’m a bit pressed for time, so shall we begin?”
“Hurry up and run!” Evileye’s cry was no more than a terrified shriek.
The other two abruptly turned their backs. It was impossible to ask them to feel no guilt at leaving their friend behind. That was precisely why they hadn’t retreated immediately upon hearing Evileye’s instruction. But they trusted her. They knew she would either find a way—or escape.
But their beliefs were easily overturned.
“First, we’ve only just met, so it’s hard to part, but I’ll take the liberty of preventing your teleportation. Dimensional Lock. Parting with a farewell is delightful both with regards to etiquette and emotion, don’t you think?”
He prevented the casting of any teleportation magic in the area with a skill that only some super-elite demons and angels could use. With that, Evileye’s escape route was cut off.
But that was no problem. She’d known from the beginning that this would happen—that the one who stayed behind, the rearguard, wouldn’t return alive.
“If we’re gonna die, there’s an order to follow. The young ones survive, and the ones who’ve lived a long time die. That’s the most proper way to do it.” After bidding farewell to her retreating friends, the woman who’d lived over two hundred and fifty years confronted the impossible opponent before her.
“All right, then, after you. Of course, if you don’t do anything, I’ll go ahead and attack first.”
His murderous aura, entirely contradicting his placid tone of voice, was horrifyingly intense. Evileye mobilized all her willpower and shook off the evil presence.
I am Evileye. The legends sing my praises. No matter how immensely powerful my enemy is, I will fight!
“I’ll take advantage of your kindness and go first, then! Eat this! Maximize Magic: Shard Buckshot!”
For her opening move, she cast one of her favorite spells, scattering crystal buckshot just a bit smaller than her fist.
The keen shards caused more damage when they hammered into the enemy at close range, but she hesitated to approach the demon.
For all my resolve, I’m sure wimping out, she scolded herself, but it was natural to fight cautiously while her opponent’s power was an unknown quantity.
The masked demon opened his arms in welcome. He bathed in the rain of crystal bullets—or rather he would have, except right before impact, the spell disappeared. It vanished so suddenly it was like it had never been there in the first place.
Racial magic immunity?! You’re that strong?!
As the disparity in ability between opponents widened, it was easier for spells to be neutralized.
Ignoring Evileye, who had chosen incorrectly for her first move, the man gracefully spread his arms, as if he were about to conduct an orchestra.
“Hellfire Wall.”
Evileye whirled around in disbelief at the wave of heat from behind.
Black flames that could never have existed in nature roared as if to consume the night.
Gagaran and Tia were enveloped in the fire mid-escape. They danced like puppets and then fell to the ground like sacks of garbage. Even after the flames vanished like an illusion, there was no sign of movement from either of them. Evileye suppressed the urge to run over to her companions. She couldn’t believe it, but she had no other choice. She knew—those had been fatal wounds, and in a single attack, two of her friends, who had stood beside her through thick and thin, had been murdered.
She ground her teeth to suppress the scream that wanted to come out.
“My plan was to stop just before crossing that line, but it seems they were weaker than anticipated. For them to die from such a fire… I’m sorry for your loss.” The man bowed low as if he was sincerely remorseful. It seemed so artificial to Evileye that she could no longer hold back her emotions.
Why had he ignored Evileye right in front of him, the one attacking him, and gone after the other two behind her? She was sure it was because they’d fled. But there was another even more important reason.
Since she understood how overwhelming his advantage was, she had known full well that he didn’t even consider her a threat. But in reality, he hadn’t even considered her an opponent.
Before me is someone who is not running away. I’ll crush the ones who are running first. That was probably his casual assessment of the situation.
“…It’s so tricky to judge how much to hold back to prevent death. And I can’t take you as the standard. Why were you in a team with them when there is such a huge discrepancy in your abilities? If it weren’t for that, I think I could have found the right level…”
“Don’t! Evennnnn! Taaaaaalk! Waaaaaaagh!” Her voice was not a frightened shriek but a shout of anger. With a hate-filled war cry, Evileye ran. No, perhaps it would be more correct to say she glided by the power of magic. She gathered magical energy in her fist and prepped a contact spell that would be difficult to neutralize or resist.
The demon raised his fists to intercept her. “Demon Aspect: Giant Arms of Great Evil.”
His arms swelled to several times their normal size and lengthened until they touched the ground. They weren’t inflated with air but brawny tools for killing.
Those deadly limbs would deter anyone’s approach. Evileye was momentarily daunted, but she steeled her resolve and decided to weave her way in and attack.
As Evileye rushed forward, the giant arms closed in on her. They were so much faster than she’d thought possible, like a huge wall filling her entire field of vision. She immediately judged them too hard to dodge and cast a defensive spell. “Translocate Damage!”
Her sight went dark right as she felt the impact, and she was sent flying. Her field of vision whirled crazily around and around, and she couldn’t track where she was. She hit the cobblestones, and her body bounced like a ball. She landed again and skidded.
But she was unharmed.
She used Fly to perform a motion that shouldn’t have been possible—she got up.
She had no wounds.
Of course, if she hadn’t used the spell to change the physical damage into magical energy
loss, she would have been half-dead.
“Maximize Penetrating Magic: Crystal Dagger!” She created a larger than usual crystal dagger and fired it. The pure physical damage of the spell was difficult to neutralize, and she used a skill to boost its penetration potential.
The demon didn’t dodge but simply took it. She’d cranked the power of the spell all the way up, but it didn’t appear to have any effect on him.
“You’re unscathed even though I boosted the spell with defense-neutralizing power? You’re a higher-ranking demon that I thought—no, you might be even stronger than an evil spirit! Are you gonna tell me you’re an evil spirit king?!”
It wasn’t as if adding “king” to anything entailed that it was strong, but it was true that within races, those with “king” or “lord” in their names were more powerful. Probably the only race that allowed for someone weak to be called “king” was the human one.
“Demon Aspect: Sharp Cutting Claws.” The demon’s fingernails grew to over two and a half feet long. Evileye could sense they were sharp enough to cut all manner of things.
It’s probably impossible for me to recover Gagaran’s and Tia’s bodies while I escape. If the others came, they’d only be deadweight in this fight. If I could at least move the battlefield somewhere else and make it easier for the other two to find the bodies…
Evileye twisted the corners of her lips upward.
In the worst case, Lakyus, who could use resurrection magic, would face this demon, but she wanted to avoid that at all costs.
“Here I go!”
Just as Evileye was about to attempt her difficult plan, something fell between the two of them with a huge racket.
Unable to withstand the weight, the cobblestones cracked, and dust wafted into the air.
It was a warrior, balled up to protect himself on impact.
His raven-black armor reflected the calm luster of the moon, which imbued it with exquisite beauty. His crimson cape fluttered behind him like leaping flames against the backdrop of the night sky. His impossibly huge swords, one in each hand, radiated the light of judgment.
The dark warrior rose slowly. He was massive. In terms of height, he was probably as tall as the demon. But just as devils shrink away from holy light, this sizable demon seemed fearful of the dark warrior. Apparently, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Evileye heard someone gulp in the silence. It was the demon. This creature, whose power even Evileye couldn’t fathom, was holding his breath before this great warrior.
A cold voice cut through the night air. “Now then, I wonder which one of you is my enemy.”
Intermission
It was a room that embodied the words exquisite luxury.
The crimson carpeting was soft and sank underneath one’s feet up to the ankles. The natural wood of the settee was elaborately carved in French rococo style and the seat, upholstered in genuine black leather, gave off that gleam only leather has. On the settee sat a single man leaned back with his legs stretched comfortably out.
Handsome. If a portrait could perfectly capture his appearance, people would evaluate him as such.
His blond hair reflected the magic light illuminating the area and twinkled like the stars. His long, tapered eyes, deep-purple like amethysts, charmed the heart of anyone who saw them.
However, anyone who laid eyes on him in person would probably first think of a word other than handsome. He was swathed in an atmosphere that had nothing to do with his looks, an aura exuded solely by those born to stand at the top. No one would have any first impression but this: He was a ruler.
His name was Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix.
At the young age of twenty-two, he was emperor of Baharuth. Feared by nobles, respected by the people, he was said to be the greatest emperor in their history. He’d also been called the “blood spilt emperor” due to his purging of nobles, and neighboring countries feared him as well.
In addition to Jircniv, there were four male attendants in the room, but they stood so straight and still they could have been mistaken for statues.
Jircniv looked away from the papers he’d been going over and stared into space. It was as if there were a blackboard in the air and he was writing his thoughts on it.
Eventually, he snorted. The sound could have been interpreted as a scoff or a grunt of interest.
It was caused by the intelligence he’d received from one of his men in the kingdom. Just then—
—the door was opened without a knock.
It was so rude that the attendants lowered their hips and turned to the door with hostility. But upon seeing who entered, they returned to their normal guarding stance.
The visitor was an old man with a white beard halfway down to his feet. His hair was also snowy white, but it hadn’t thinned.
His many years were evidenced in the wrinkles on his face, and his sharp eyes contained the unmistakable twinkle of wisdom.
He wore a necklace of countless crystal spheres strung together, and there were several chunky rings on his withered fingers. His pure-white robe fit loosely and was made of extremely soft material.
When asked to envision a caster, any layman would imagine him—that’s what he looked like.
“Well, this is worrisome.” The first thing out of the old man’s mouth as he came slowly into the room was a grumble. His voice retained more youthfulness than one would expect from his appearance.
Jircniv shifted his curious gaze with just his eyes. “What is it, Gramps?”
“I looked, but I couldn’t find him.”
“And what does that mean?”
“…Your Imperial Majesty. Magic is the logic of this world. You must stud—”
“Yeah, I know, I know.” Jircniv waved him on with disinterest. “Your lectures are too long, Gramps. Can you get to the point?”
“…If Ainz Ooal Gown really exists, then he is in possession of some rather powerful magic items. Or if he’s avoiding detection with his own power, I’d wager he has at least as good a command of magic as I, possibly even greater.”
The room grew nervous, excepting the emperor and the old man.
Had they really just heard that? Someone was equal to Fluder Paradyne, the most elite caster in all the empire’s history, principal court wizard, and the great sage known as “Triad Caster”?
“Aha! So that’s why you seem so happy, huh, old man?”
“As I should! I haven’t met an arcane caster equal to or better than me in two hundred years.”
“Did you meet one two hundred years ago?” the emperor asked, propelled by curiosity, and the principal court wizard recalled the distant past.
“Hmm. The fairy-tale Thirteen Heroes… I met one of them, tamer of the dead Ligritte Belzú Kaurau. She was the only one. Well, the other casters of the Thirteen Heroes may have been superior to her, but…”
“So do you think there are any arcane casters more powerful than you now?”
Fluder’s eyes were distant. “Hmm… I’ve probably come further than Kaurau did, so… But I have no proof… Magic isn’t the kind of discipline where superiority is easily decided.” The emotion behind his words as he slowly stroked his long beard suggested he was confident in that. Then he raised an eyebrow. “I do hope this Ainz Ooal Gown can be counted as more powerful than me.”
Jircniv smiled in satisfaction, took one of the papers scattered on the settee, and held it out to him.
Fluder seemed dubious, but he took the document and ran his eyes over it. “Ooh.”
That was his opinion on the matter. But the expression on his wise face had changed considerably. His eyes were blazing—he looked just like a ravenous beast.
“I see. So the caster you had me search for did this? Very interesting. They must have taken on about ten members of one of the theocracy’s special units, just the pair of them… Hmm, hmm. That’s someone I’d really like to meet and discuss magic with.”
The paper was a report of what Gazef Stronoff had told the king, as
well as the writer’s personal impressions.
“So did you send someone to this village, Your Imperial Majesty?”
“No, I didn’t go that far. It’d be conspicuous to send someone.”
“…We could send my disciple…no. If this document is true, we’ll want to cultivate friendly relations with him.”
“Exactly, Gramps. If he’s a power that can be controlled, then I want to welcome him.”
“I think that’s a perfectly wonderful idea. All sorts of wisdom is necessary if you want to peer into the abyss of magic. If possible, I’d like to meet someone who has blazed the trail…” His voice was full of longing.
Jircniv knew what Fluder’s dream was.
Exactly as he said, Fluder wanted to view the depths of magic. To that end, he wished more than anything to study under someone who had glimpsed what he desired most.
The magic users who came later needed only to follow the path that had been blazed—usually by Fluder. Taking the most efficient, suitable route, they could cultivate their ability without any wasted efforts.
But Fluder, pushing the envelope on his own, couldn’t do that. He was fumbling in the dark, so his progress came only at the expense of tremendous energy. He would have been an even more powerful caster if he could have developed his talents more efficiently.
It was precisely because Fluder understood this that he sought someone to show him the way. There were limits to natural ability. He didn’t want to do more for nothing in return.
The reason Fluder took on disciples, too, was because he hoped one of them would surpass him and buoy his efforts. Unfortunately, so far it didn’t seem as if that wish would come true.
This was the one wish Jircniv couldn’t do anything about. So he changed topics. “I’d also like to gather intelligence on the new adamantite-rank adventurer who popped up in E-Rantel. Will you help me?”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Chapter 10 | The Most Powerful Trump Card
The Men of the Kingdom Part II Page 16
