The Caster of Destruction

by Kugane Maruyama

  Copyright

  OVERLORD, VOLUME 9

  KUGANE MARUYAMA

  Translation by Emily Balistrieri

  Cover art by so-bin

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  ©Kugane Maruyama 2015

  First published in Japan in 2015 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo. English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2019 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Yen On

  1290 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10104

  Visit us at yenpress.com

  facebook.com/yenpress

  twitter.com/yenpress

  yenpress.tumblr.com

  instagram.com/yenpress

  First Yen On Edition: January 2019

  Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.

  The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Maruyama, Kugane, author. | So-bin, illustrator. | Balistrieri, Emily, translator.

  Title: Overlord / Kugane Maruyama ; illustration by So-bin ; translation by Emily Balistrieri.

  Other titles: Ōbārōdo. English

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2016–

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016000142 | ISBN 9780316272247 (v. 1 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316363914 (v. 2 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316363938 (v. 3 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316397599 (v. 4 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316397612 (v. 5 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316398794 (v. 6 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316398817 (v. 7 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316398848 (v. 8 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316398862 (v. 9 : hardback)

  Subjects: LCSH: Alternate reality games—Fiction. | Internet games—Fiction. | Science fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.

  Classification: LCC PL873.A37 O2313 2016 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016000142

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-39886-2 (hardcover)

  978-0-316-39887-9 (ebook)

  E3-20181215-JV-NF-ORI

  Prologue

  Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, unrivaled sovereign of the empire, the young man feared as “the Fresh Blood Emperor,” examined his acting for errors.

  He was confident his bearing and smile had made a good impression. There were no problems.

  Nobles had a way with that sort of psychological manipulation. As the emperor, Jircniv had these teachings pounded into him since he had first become aware of the world around him, so his mastery was great enough that no one could see through his facade at a glance. To his guests, he should have appeared as nothing more than a friendly young man.

  It was important to put guests at ease.

  Observing the mind of someone wrapped in robes of suspicion was difficult, but by tugging the threads of trust and goodwill, those layers could be removed one by one until their heart was laid bare. Naturally, he skillfully hid all his machinations beneath the smile of a gentleman who wholeheartedly welcomed the arrival of his guests.

  He was currently receiving two dark elves who had barged into the imperial castle riding a dragon. He had never met anyone whose appearance matched their true power so poorly.

  The death toll from the fissures the girl with the staff had caused was 117. That included forty Imperial Guards, sixty knights, eight arcane casters, eight faith casters, plus one more—a shocking loss.

  As the knights were the ones protecting the palace, they were elite, but losing them was possible to ignore. In adventurer terms, they were silver rank. The next generation was receiving a complete education, so he had no doubt more knights of their level would appear.

  Next came the guards. They were the cream of the crop, cultivated with an eye on the empire’s future. It stung to lose half his gold-rank equivalents all at once. On top of that, they had been clad in magic armor that had taken a great deal of time for the many Ministry of Magic casters mobilized for the purpose to make. Those suits of armor were worth more than their weight in gold.

  What hurt the most, though, was the loss of the last person—one of the strongest knights in the empire, Unshakable Nazami Eneck. He said he was simply mimicking a warrior he had seen once, but his defense-oriented style of fighting with a two-handed shield made him known as the toughest knight, even compared to the four strongest.

  At the point where an individual’s valor surpassed a hundred soldiers’, simply saying that the death of an immensely powerful warrior was a loss wouldn’t cut it. It was entirely possible that the empire’s military might have taken a precipitous drop.

  Honestly, Jircniv wanted to douse these dark elves in water or something and chase them away, but he wasn’t about to believe that would work on these killers. He wasn’t sure if they had come with the purpose of giving a demonstration of their power, but his only choice was to welcome them with a smile.

  He wasn’t going to let them have the upper hand entirely, however. Jircniv watched every move the children in front of him made.

  One could learn so much from the most minute details.

  Jircniv’s senses were so keen he had once discerned that a noble loyal to him and a hostile noble were secretly plotting together from nothing more than the smell of the same spice in the air. He took a close look to see if he could notice anything.

  Clothes…

  Looks…

  Hmm…

  These messengers from Ainz Ooal Gown, the dark elves who had barged into his palace, had extremely pleasant features and would no doubt fascinate the opposite sex in the future.

  Those skinny little bodies, all those faces they’re making… No matter how you look at them, they’re just kids. Anyone who didn’t understand the situation would grin awkwardly if they were told that these two are messengers.

  The qualifications for envoys responsible for a country—diplomats—were many and varied, and appearance was critical. Representatives who didn’t look the part could cause trouble for their homeland.

  Ainz Ooal Gown should know that much, so why did he send these dark elves, who would be so easy to make light of?

  Jircniv spun the gears of his brain into motion.

  What comes to mind is…a demonstration. He knew we would underestimate them, and that would give him a way to show us a bit of his power. The larger the gap from the impression they make, the greater the shock we’d feel…but then wouldn’t riding in on a dragon have the opposite effect? A dragon is pretty impressive… Or were these two the only ones who would make good messengers? Or is there some other reason…? Shit. I can’t tell what his aim is. I don’t have enough information.

  Several ideas came to mind but left just as quickly.

  For starters, I need to prioritize gathering information about this Ainz Ooal Gown. I won’t get anywhere without that. Then I’ll need to study how far he can be pushed, taking care not to upset him. Only a fool ruins negotiations by angering the other party
.

  First, he needed to learn why they had come.

  The pair of dark elves had declared, “The emperor sent some rude guys to the Great Tomb of Nazarick,” and committed the atrocity of killing over a hundred people in the courtyard, but he needed to know if that was based on actual intelligence or if they were trying to bait him.

  Considering the timing, the “rude guys” probably referred to the workers. In that case, there was no mistake about it being Jircniv who gave the order to send them in, but he had used a method with so many layers of conspiracy that not even the J of his name would get out.

  How had they—? How had Ainz Ooal Gown seen through his plot? His attitude would change depending on the answer.

  Since they said they’ve come as messengers, this could be a chance to get some information out of them. I’ve got to keep my eye on even the slightest moves they make and figure out what they’re after…

  Their patron was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to barge into a country and use his power to threaten its ruler. One misreading could end in death.

  Jircniv wasn’t interested in any more earthquakes.

  He turned his focus to the room next door.

  Normally the adjacent room would be crammed with guards, and he would have several in this room as well, but not today. Even if there were fifty guards, the most he could expect would be regret that he got them all killed. Instead, he had only five people accompanying him.

  One was Lightning Baswood Peshmel. One was the greatest caster in the empire, whom Jircniv trusted more than anyone else, Fluder Paradyne. The other three were secretaries Jircniv considered to be outstanding.

  Meanwhile, he had ordered the guards to dig along the fissure scars.

  He knew there was no point in recovering the bodies themselves.

  No one in the empire was able to use resurrection magic. Their adamantite-plate adventurers weren’t that powerful and neither were their priests. About the only nearby places home to powerful humans were the kingdom and the Theocracy.

  The reason they would recover the corpses despite that was because it would be a shame to lose the magic items. Besides, recovering the bodies of his subordinates and giving them an honorable burial would be good for maintaining the soldiers’ morale.

  “Well, messengers. You’ve traveled all this way. You must be thirsty. We’ve also prepared a light meal, so please help yourselves if you’re hungry.”

  Jircniv rang a handbell, and the maids standing by outside entered the room. There were nearly twenty of them, each bearing a polished silver platter. The maids were highly trained, so their movements were refined and beautiful.

  Jircniv was secretly proud of their perfectly synchronized motions, but today they were just slightly out of step.

  Since they were usually perfect, that tiny blemish seemed huge.

  What’s going on? They’ve served all kinds of messengers before, and this has never happened. Are they under the influence of some sort of magic?

  He suppressed the urge to grab the medallion hanging around his neck under his clothes. It was effective precisely because it was secret. People knowing he had it equipped would only be a disadvantage.

  Noticing the maids’ gazes wavering over the two dark elves, he realized what was causing their mistakes.

  Ahh, so that’s what it is… The beauty of these creatures has taken their breath away. I get it…but don’t embarrass me, you idiots.

  Or maybe he should have praised them—faced with these two and their features, they were able to hold themselves together despite getting flustered.

  The maids placed a drink and something sweet before each person, bowed, then exited the room.

  “There you go.”

  “Hmm.” The dark elf boy made an unimpressed face and lifted his glass.

  It was a fine item, clear, with intricate details.

  These sorts of ornate glasses weren’t Jircniv’s style, but he still owned a few out of necessity. The dishes used to welcome messengers were a show of a nation’s power while also signifying how important the messenger was.

  The dark elf boy took a sip of his drink.

  No hesitation… If he’s not wary of poison, does that mean he has magical defense against it? Or did he just infer that I don’t have those sorts of intentions…? Could there be some other reason? Hmm, the girl didn’t hesitate, either.

  “It’s not very good. And it doesn’t seem to have any special effects, either.”

  For just a moment, the boy’s pronouncement was a refreshing surprise.

  No one ever talked to Jircniv like that. Not even when he was a child.

  When the surprise faded, a bit of anger welled up. Damn brat, don’t you have any manners? Of course, he wasn’t foolish enough to let even a hint of his annoyance show.

  “I’m sorry.” He smiled at the boy. “If you tell me what sort of drink you like, I’ll have them prepare it.”

  No special effects… Like poison? Was he hoping it was poisoned? What did he mean by that?

  “I doubt you guys can make the sort of thing I like.”

  “D-don’t be rude, sis.”

  “Hmm? Is that rude? Maybe…”

  Sis? So she’s a girl, not a boy? I guess they’re sisters, then?

  Once he’d been told she was a girl, she started to seem like one.

  So why…is she dressed like a boy…? Well, it’s probably easier to move in those clothes. Kids that age sometimes have an androgynous air about them. That one couldn’t be a boy, could it? No, not with that outfit—there’s no way. Plus, she seems so docile.

  Jircniv wondered if he could bring the girl with the staff over to his side or use her as a mediator to give the empire an advantage, but since he didn’t have enough information about her, he couldn’t think of any good ways to make that happen.

  For starters, it wouldn’t do to forget that as meek as she looked, she had committed an atrocity. A clumsy attempt would be the same as sticking his hand in a sleeping dragon’s mouth.

  It all comes down to gathering info. I need to think of a way to see their hand as soon as possible.

  “Now then, messengers, I gave you my name once before, but allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix of the Baharuth Empire. I’ve heard Miss Fiora’s name, so might I have yours?”

  “U-uh, umm, I’m Mare Bello Fiore.”

  “Thank you. Earlier, Miss Fiora, you said, ‘Lord Ainz is not amused. So if the emperor doesn’t come to say sorry, we’ll destroy the country.’ Does this mean I need to go to the Great Tomb of Nazarick to apologize?”

  “Duh.” The simple reply was given coldly.

  There hadn’t been any warmth in this Aura’s eyes in the first place. He couldn’t feel from her anything beyond what a human would feel for a bug.

  Now, here’s the problem.

  What she was saying was true, but how far should he admit that to be the case? And how did she find out? Normally, he would smooth talk the messenger away for now and set about gathering intelligence, but would that work against him in this case? Ultimately, he needed to figure out where the line was so he didn’t accidentally cross it.

  “By the way, was it Sir Ainz Ooal Gown himself who ordered you to come here?”

  Aura and Mare both looked puzzled.

  “Yes…but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Oh, I just wanted to confirm.”

  Jircniv got to thinking.

  Who is Ainz Ooal Gown anyway? Dark elves, a tomb, and a dragon—it’s a jumbled mess. What do they have in common?

  Maybe dark elves living in the Tove Woodlands moved to the ruins on the plains? And the dragon is a monster the leader of the dark elf tribe commands?

  Jircniv shook his head to clear out the speculation.

  …I can let the bards spin the tales. My job is to reach an accurate conclusion based on the information I collect.

  The only thing he was certain of so far was that his adversary had to have been
gathering information in the empire somehow. He probably controlled quite the intelligence net—or…

  Is this Ainz Ooal Gown skilled at data analysis? Then I need to check something.

  “Did he order you to barge in here on a dragon?”

  “Y-yes. It was Lord Ainz’s order.”

  “Aha… I see.”

  “What’s with all the weird questions? Are you gonna come apologize or what? If you’re not, we’ll go tell him you refused, then come back to destroy the country.”

  There was a saying that went, “Dragon eggs can only be found in dragon lairs.” It meant that great achievements and success were impossible without the corresponding risk.

  Jircniv followed that advice and steeled himself to take a step forward.

  “Of course I’ll go. I don’t recall sending anyone to a place called Nazarick, but it’s possible someone beneath me independently made some poor choices. As the one at the top, I must take responsibility for my subordinates’ actions.”

  From the edge of his vision, he saw the eyes of the three secretaries widen and Fluder nodding that he had made the right choice.

  “Hmm, okay. Then shall we get going?”

  “Wait. I’m fine with going, but I’m the ruler of the empire. I can’t up and leave the country so easily. If I could have, hmm, two or three days”—he glanced at the messengers’ expressions and gathered that a few days’ time wouldn’t be a problem—“to clean up urgent matters, plus time to get ready and prepare a gift for Sir Gown, so maybe ten days—”

  “Ten? Isn’t that kind of a lot?”

  “With ten days, I should be able to put together a suitable gift. I wouldn’t want to be rude by offering something too simple. I also need time to figure out who is responsible. The empire is vast. Investigations take time.”

  “A gift…?” Aura became absorbed in thought. Next to her, Mare began to look nervous.

  I see… If they hesitate when they hear it’s about a gift for Gown, that means they have a healthy respect for their master. If I press them on this, I should be able to buy some more time.

  Jircniv had been about to open his mouth, but Aura was a smidgen faster.

  “Just kidding. Lord Ainz said to have you come immediately. He didn’t specify a time, so I’ll leave whether ‘immediately’ could mean ‘in a few days’ up to you.”