As if she’d been waiting for the call, a woman’s pretty voice echoed in Narberal’s head almost instantly. “Narberal Gamma. Is something wrong?”
“No, just checking in.”
Narberal was speaking with Albedo, captain of the Great Tomb of Nazarick’s floor guardians. After touching on every detail of their current situation, she said what she knew Albedo would want to hear. “Lord Ainz said there is no one he trusts more than you.”
“Tee-hee!” A strangely excited squeal echoed in Narberal’s head. “Great, great. Good girl, Narberal! Keep on talking me up! That’s an order from the captain of the floor guardians!”
Narberal wondered if that was worth giving an order over, but she realized Albedo was fighting a battle with Shalltear to decide which woman would serve by their lord’s side. When she thought of it that way, an order made perfect sense.
All the while Narberal was coming to understand this, Albedo’s voice kept ringing in her head. “While Shalltear is out, I’ll be gently closing the gap between Lord Ainz and me. He may be an impregnable fortress, but if I strike with wave attacks and establish a bridgehead, he must one day fall! And on that glorious day, Shalltear will cry oh so bitterly!”
Narberal’s brow creased slightly in response to Albedo’s delighted screams. As might be expected, the captain was a bit of a hassle when she got this worked up.
Sounding so cheerful it seemed like she might start skipping, Albedo plotted quietly how she’d have to do this and that, but all at once her voice grew serious. “But why are you helping me? What’s the reason you chose to support me and not Shalltear? Are you trying to get something?”
“It’s simple. If I were asked who was worthy to sit at Lord Ainz’s side, you or Mistress Shalltear, I would answer that you are.”
“Tee-hee! Wonderful! Now, here’s a girl who can see Nazarick’s future—the big picture. Impressive!”
“On top of that, Yuri isn’t very fond of Mistress Shalltear.”
“Ah, Yuri Alpha. I see, interesting. So is it safe to consider the others my allies as well, do you think?”
Narberal pictured deputy leader Yuri Alpha and her other teammates one by one as she answered. “Hmm, I’m not so sure. Lupusregina is more on your side, but Solution probably leans more toward Mistress Shalltear. I don’t know about Entoma or Shizu; they don’t seem particularly attached to either side at the moment.”
“Do you think there’s a way to win Solution over?”
“I imagine it would be difficult. She and Shalltear have some things in common…”
“Oh, right. Their bad taste, huh?” Narberal confirmed, cocking her head in her inability to understand Solution Epsilon’s twisted hobby. Narberal, too, considered all humans save one lower life-forms, but that didn’t mean she wanted to torment them. If they got in her way, she would kill them, and if they made trouble, she would kill them, but that didn’t mean she’d want to go out of her way and take all kinds of time to do it.
“Well, we can’t do anything about that. Very well. Let’s try to get the other girls in my camp, starting with Entoma and Shizu.”
“That sounds good. Solution and Entoma both enjoy eating humans, so it’s possible that if we can get Entoma to ally with you, Solution might follow.”
“Hmm… Got it. Then, to change the subject…will you give me more details about how Lord Ainz, my beloved, is doing?”
“Yes, mistress.”
And so the check-in with Albedo livened up, although there were some brief tiffs such as when Albedo raised a bizarre war cry when she heard that Narberal and Ainz would be sleeping in the same room. Narberal had to cast the same spell four times and Ainz was somewhat disgusted when he returned, but that’s another story.
3
Feeling the air had taken on a color, Brita sniffed several times like a dog. The faint green component of the smell was probably not her imagination. It was some chemical or mashed plant. That told her she was nearing the block she was aiming for.
Brita followed the road and reached the block where the smell was even stronger. Looking both ways, she stopped before the largest house on it. The other houses in the area were constructed with a store in the front and a workshop in back, while this one was more like workshop, workshop, workshop. Reading the letters on the wooden plate hanging from the door and the sign out front confirmed she was in the right place.
She pushed open the door. The bell attached to the top of it jangled so loudly she jumped. Inside seemed like a sitting room where discussions with customers could take place. Two sofas faced each other in the center of the room, and along the walls were shelves lined with things that appeared to be documents. There was a houseplant in the corner.
The moment Brita stepped inside, a voice called out to her. “Hello there!” A man’s voice. No, it was too young sounding.
When she looked over, there was a boy standing in the back of the room wearing a beat-up work apron, which seemed likely to give off a pungent odor, judging from all the mashed plant material sticking to it. His long blond hair hid half of his face, so she couldn’t tell how old he was, but judging from his height and voice, he was probably in the middle of a growth spurt.
Brita had an idea who he might be. Yes, his grandmother was renowned, but this boy could also be counted among E-Rantel’s celebrities due to his talent.
“…Nfirea Baleare?”
“Yes, that’s me.” He nodded and then asked, “What can I do for you today?”
“Oh, uh, just a moment.”
Brita took out of her pocket the folded paper the innkeeper had given her and handed it to the boy, who had come closer. He opened it and began reading carefully.
“So this is… I see. Then, could you show me the potion?”
Nfirea took the potion she’d taken out and raised it up to the level his eyes must have been under his hair.
Something in the atmosphere changed.
Nfirea parted his bangs, exposing regular features that made it seem certain girls would fuss over him in the future. He still looked so young, but now, a sharpness appeared in his expression. His gaze was incredibly keen for the casual tone he had taken earlier. He blinked several times, and his excitement was visible in his eyes. Then, he rocked the bottle a few times and nodded once. “Excuse me. There’s not much I can say about it at this point, so would you come this way?”
Assenting, Brita followed Nfirea to a messy room. No—it only seemed messy because she didn’t have the knowledge to understand it.
On a table were round-bottom flasks, test tubes, a still, mortars, funnels, beakers, burners, a balance, strange jars, and other various pieces of equipment. The walls had shelves full of countless medicinal herbs and ores. The whole room assaulted her nose with a singular reek that seemed like it might be harmful to her health.
The occupant of the room turned to glare at the two intruders. It was an extremely old woman. Wrinkled face, wrinkled hands. Her hair, cropped to shoulder length, was pure white. Her work clothes had even more green splotches than Nfirea’s and smelled strongly of herbs.
Entering the room, Nfirea called out to her, “Grandma!”
“What is it? What is it? I can hear you without all the shouting. My ears are doing just fine.”
Nfirea only had one grandmother. This was the woman said to be the best apothecary in the city, Lizzy Baleare.
“Look at this!”
Lizzy took the bottle as he thrust it into her hands, and her perceptive gaze was so sharp that Brita was almost compelled to brace herself. She sensed that she was in the presence of a powerful veteran.
And it wasn’t just her imagination. Apothecaries needed to use magic in the course of making medicines, so the better the reputation of the apothecary, the higher tiers of magic it indicated they could use. That meant that as the best apothecary in E-Rantel, Lizzy’s individual combat ability surpassed Brita’s.
“This… She brought it? The legendary…? It can’t be… Gods’ Blood? Hey,
what is this thing?”
“Huh?” Brita blinked. That was her question.
“This potion…it shouldn’t exist. Where did you get it? Is it from the ruins?”
“Huh? Uh, no, I mean…”
“You’re not very good at making yourself understood, child. Just spit out what’s asked of you! Where did you get it? It’s not like you stole it, right? Hmm?”
Brita’s shoulders jumped. She felt like she was being scolded even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Grandma! Don’t frighten her!”
“Whaddaya mean, Nfirea? I’m not frightening her one bit. …Right?”
Nope, definitely scared, Brita wanted to say, but of course, she couldn’t, so she swallowed hard and quit beating around the bush about how she acquired the potion. “Someone, uh, gave it to me.”
“Huh?” Lizzy’s gaze became more damning. “You think—”
“Grandma, just wait a minute. Um, Brita, who gave it to you and for what reason?”
Reaching out for the lifeline Nfirea offered, she gave a simple explanation of how she’d received it from a mysterious person in full plate armor. Lizzy’s wrinkled face grew even more wrinkly.
“…Did you know that there are three types of potions?” Despite asking the question, she didn’t wait for Brita’s response before continuing. “There are potions made just with herbs. These don’t have instantaneous effects, but basically work by enhancing humans’ natural healing processes. They aren’t terribly effective, but they’re extremely cheap.
“Next are potions made with herbs and magic. These take effect more quickly than the ones I just mentioned, but they still take some time. These are the ones you often see adventurers drinking after a battle or something when they have more time.
“Lastly, there are potions that use only magic. They’re made by infusing alchemical solutions with spells. They take effect immediately and can work just as well as spells would. Of course, you pay for it.
“This one you brought me doesn’t have any herbal sediment, so we can assume it was created entirely with magic, but…” Lizzy picked up a potion bottle full of blue liquid and thrust it at Brita. “This is your typical healing medicine. Notice the color difference? No matter what we do, they end up turning blue during the production process. But yours is red. In other words, your potion was made with some completely different process. That means that you have something incredibly rare—it may have the potential to change potion-making technology! Though I’m not sure if that makes any sense to you…”
After saying that much, Lizzy cast two spells on the potions. “Appraise Magic Item! Detect Enchantment!” Astonishment and fury registered in her expression. “Heh-heh… Waa-ha-ha-ha!”
Suddenly an almost cracked sort of laughter echoed throughout the cramped room. Lizzy looked up slowly. She had the crooked smile of a crazy person. Brita was so taken aback by the sudden change that had come over the old woman that she couldn’t move a muscle, much less speak.
“Heh-heh-heh. I knew it! Take a good look at this, Nfirea! This, this is potion perfection! This is what has eluded us—apothecaries and alchemists, anyone involved in potion making—even after all our research over the years: the ideal potion!” Lizzy’s face was flushed with excitement, and she breathed in quick gasps. She held the potion bottle out toward Nfirea, her hand clamped around it as if to say she would never let it go. “Potions degrade, right?”
“Yes, everyone knows that.” Nfirea spoke in even tones, quite a contrast from Lizzy’s state, but Brita could see a hint of excitement on his face.
She just couldn’t understand why they were so excited. But she could sense quite acutely that she was involved in something big. It had to be huge if the greatest apothecary in the city was getting this fired up over it.
“Potions made entirely with magic use an alchemical solution. Those are made by using alchemy on minerals, so it stands to reason that they would degrade over time! That’s why we have to cast Preservation!” She paused for a beat for effect. “Or rather, ‘had to’!”
Brita vaguely understood what Lizzy was saying and eyed the red liquid in surprise.
“This! This potion—this potion! It won’t degrade! In other words, it’s a perfect potion! No one has ever been able to produce one! According to legend, a true healing potion signifies blood of the gods. This story has been told for ages!” The potion shook in her hand and the crimson liquid sloshed. “Of course, it’s only a legend, and apothecaries even joke with one another that the gods themselves must have blue blood, but…” She paused for a moment to stare at the bottle clasped tightly in her trembling hands. “This potion must be true Gods’ Blood!”
Lizzy wheezed, out of breath. Nfirea rubbed her back. Brita was speechless. The silence the three of them created was broken by Lizzy. “…And I think you’re here to inquire what the effects of this potion are. This is equivalent to a tier-two healing spell. Without adding value for rarity or anything, it would fetch eight gold pieces. Factoring in added value, the price goes so high that it’s possible people might try to kill you for it.”
Brita’s whole body shivered. Even just the value of its effects was worth quite a lot to an iron-plate adventurer like her. That added value, though, was a problem. She even felt like Lizzy, with her perceptive eyes, was waiting for a chance to jump her.
But she still didn’t understand everything. How could that mysterious man in the full plate armor give a potion like this to her as if it were nothing? What in the world did his face look like under that helmet?
Countless questions assailed Brita, and Lizzy added one more. “You wouldn’t be interested in selling that to me, would you? I’ll make it worth your while. How does thirty-two gold pieces sound?”
Brita’s eyes widened even more.
To Brita, it was an incredible fortune. A family of three could probably live modestly on that for three years.
She couldn’t make up her mind. She knew the potion was ridiculously valuable. So was selling it here for thirty-two gold pieces the right move? The chances she would acquire another one were extremely low.
But if I turn her down, will I make it home in one piece?
Picking up on Brita’s indecision, Lizzy shook her head—it couldn’t be helped. Then she made an alternative suggestion…
4
The next morning, Momon/Ainz pushed open the door to the guild once more. When he entered, he saw the desk at the back. Behind it were three smiling receptionists assisting adventurers. There was a knight in full plate armor, an agile-looking guy in light armor carrying a bow and arrows, someone wearing priestly garb with the sigil of a god, a magical magic caster in a robe holding a staff—there were all sorts of adventurers.
On his left was a big door and, on his right, the board. There were several sheets of parchment posted that hadn’t been there yesterday. Naturally, there were adventurers clustered around them as well. A team was conferring with one another in front of one of the parchments. With a bad feeling about that scene and the posting, he headed toward the reception desk.
Ainz felt the room’s eyes gather on the plate around his neck and then lap up and down his body, taking in his appearance. It was the same vibe he’d gotten at the inn the previous day.
He observed the other adventurers back from the corners of his eyes. Their plates were silver and gold. Not a single copper. Feeling a bit like he was playing an away game, he stepped up to the counter.
It seemed as though a team had just finished, so there was a receptionist open. He stepped in front of her and said, “’Scuse me. I’m looking for work…”
“Oh! Then please select a sheet of parchment from the board and bring it over.”
As Ainz acknowledged her, he was assailed by the feeling that the sweat glands he’d lost had now returned. He arrived in front of the parchments and swept his eyes over them. Then, he nodded firmly.
Yup. I can’t read.
One of this world’s laws was that fo
reign languages would be translated, but that didn’t extend to the written word.
Last time, the receptionist lady had done everything for him, so he assumed it would work the same way this time. That was naive.
Aah! He wanted to scream and roll around on the floor, but then his mind settled down. Feeling grateful for the changes in him since taking on his new body, he racked his brains.
The literacy rate didn’t seem terribly high, but it would still be embarrassing to not be able to read in a place like this, and it could only end with him in the disadvantageous position of being looked down on. He’d given all his items for reading foreign characters to Sebas and had sneered at the idea of acquiring spells for that back in his Yggdrasil days—“I have scrolls, so that magic is pointless.”
He felt like a fool. He’d known he couldn’t read the writing in this world, so why had he neglected to come up with a plan? But there was no use crying over spilled milk; what’s done was done. Narberal couldn’t read the characters, either. Checkmate, the end.
Those were the thoughts going around in his head, but the ruler of Nazarick couldn’t knowingly embarrass himself. He made up his mind, took down a piece of parchment, and strode back toward the desk.
“I’d like to take this job.”
The receptionist looked over the sheet that he’d thrust at her rather too firmly and her expression became awkward. Then with an embarrassed smile, she said, “I’m sorry. This is a request for mythril-plate adventurers.”
“I know. That’s why I brought it over.”
Hearing the quiet dignity of his voice, something doubtful appeared in the receptionist’s eyes. “Uh, um…”
“I’d like to take that job.”
“Huh? Uh, I mean, I see what you mean, but it’s a rule—”
“It’s a stupid rule. I can’t believe I have to keep grinding out these crummy, easy jobs until the promotion exam.”
“But your failure could result in the loss of many lives.” Not to mention the reputation of the guild that so many adventurers worked so hard to cultivate, her hard voice implied.
The Dark Warrior Page 4
