“Please wait.” Yuri’s soft voice stopped Jircniv as he was about to walk away. “Since we’re having you wait here, Lord Ainz ordered us to provide you polite hospitality.”
Jircniv was mildly stunned. “Ainz”…? He lets his maids call him by his first name? Or is she not a maid…? Ah, I see. They must be close. Perhaps he has a physical relationship with her. Well, any man could understand why. It’d be hard to keep your hands off a woman that gorgeous.
Sensing they might get along, Jircniv gave exaggerated thanks. “Oh! Well, in that case, what sort of welcome have you prepared for us and where?”
“Allow me to make preparations. First of all, the weather doesn’t seem very good, so we’ll start with that.”
“What do you…? Whoa!”
Jircniv wasn’t the only one to shout in surprise. The casters, the guards, Baswood, Leinas, Fluder—everyone present couldn’t help but emit a shocked cry.
The overcast sky slowly began to change.
As if they were being cleared away by a giant hand, the dark clouds overhead disappeared. It was obvious the flying hippogriff riders were in a panic.
“What…? It feels warmer now…”
“You too? I’m not imagining things?”
Hearing his guards talking, Jircniv removed his cape and canceled the spell that protected him from adverse temperatures.
“Y-your Imperial Majesty!”
Reaunet was shocked to see him remove his cape, but Jircniv didn’t have the composure to reply.
“Hoo! Hoo-ha! Hoo-ha-ha-ha! What in the world? The hell did they do? Gramps! What is this?!” Jircniv abandoned his calm and turned a twisted expression on Fluder.
Comfortable springtime air surrounded them. There was no trace left of chilly winter. This sort of feat hadn’t been covered in the magic education he received from Fluder. So what could it be?
“It must not be arcane magic… Druid faith magic includes Control Weather, but…” Having gotten that far, he broke into a smile. “…Control Weather is a tier-six spell. As far as I can tell, it’s not merely the weather, meaning this must be higher-tier magic. Amazing.”
“Is this the power of that dark el— The messenger?”
If so—assuming it was the same caster who created the fissure that swallowed up his guards—then it was understandable. He sure hoped it was the same caster. He didn’t want to believe there could be a large number of people with similar abilities. That would be a nightmare.
“Perhaps…but there’s no proof.”
Fluder’s amused tone bothered Jircniv.
His teacher was brilliant and he respected him, but when magic was involved, Fluder had a tendency to turn into a good-for-nothing. It was times like this that the old man really got on Jircniv’s nerves.
“Now that your wait will be more pleasant, I’ll move on to the next order of business.” Paying no mind to Jircniv’s annoyance, the maid indicated there was still more to come.
He wanted to tell her to stop, but he managed to control himself. He wanted to beg her not to disturb them any further, but his pride as the emperor of the Baharuth Empire held him back.
“All right. Come on out.”
At Yuri’s order, the door to the log cabin opened and something gigantic came out.
“Eegh!”
Someone’s shriek rang out. It was a strange cry like a chicken being strangled.
When they realized who had screamed, it wasn’t only Jircniv who felt a ripple of alarm. He thought he was dreaming.
The one who had emitted such an unthinkable noise was none other than the empire’s principal court wizard, Triad Caster Fluder Paradyne, said to be as great or perhaps even greater than the Thirteen Heroes. A man of that caliber was staring in shock at the things that had just emerged from the log cabin, his eyes big as saucers.
Several more shouts went up, all from Fluder’s leading disciples.
“This is absurd! Those are—!”
“I—I can’t believe it! It can’t be!”
“Watch out! They’ll attack! Defensive magic! Authorize us to cast defensive magic!”
The disciples were getting into attack stance when Fluder snapped at them. “Silence! Stop that racket!”
The beings that appeared from inside the log cabin were so shocking that everyone’s eyes were drawn to them.
They were unmistakably grotesques, monsters clad in black armor.
Their bodies were strangely large, their silhouettes sinister. It was as though a god had extracted all the violent tendencies of humans and malevolently given them solid form. Though their decayed faces wore no expression, their eyes gleamed with an obvious hatred for the living.
There were five of them.
At the head of the group was one monster carrying a marble table, while the four behind it were each skillfully holding multiple chairs.
The creatures displayed no outward sign of hostility, almost as if to sneer at the vigilant disciples who had readied themselves for combat.
A thud sounded.
A disciple near Fluder had gone deathly pale and fallen weakly to his knees. No, there went another four. Almost all of them had fallen into the same state: taking short, gasping breaths, their pale faces frozen in shock.
“It can’t be. Of all the— No, it can’t. Death knights? He’s commanding death knights? And that many of them?”
Jircniv came back to his senses with a flash of understanding and shouted:
“Death knights? What’s a death knight? Gramps! Answer me! I heard that name a long time ago—is it the same thing said to be deep inside the Ministry of Magic?”
Yes. Death knight. He had heard that term before. Just one of the undead monsters had been enough to nearly throw the empire into crisis.
There was no answer to his question.
Fluder was gazing at the death knights with wide-eyed delight.
Realizing Fluder was of no use to him now, he strode roughly over to the leading disciples and grabbed one by the collar.
“What’s a death knight? Answer me!”
“Eek! Y-your Imperial Majesty, it is indeed the legendary undead held captive deep within the Ministry of Magic. Not even our master can tame it.”
All Jircniv could do was laugh. Not a shred of his dignity as the Baharuth emperor was left. It had been broken and scattered.
“…Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo. What do you mean, ‘legendary undead’? There are five of them in front of us. Or do death knights come in packs and one is five?! Are you making fun of me?”
“N-no! I would never!”
Someone stood next to him. When he looked, it was Baswood, one of the empire’s strongest knights. His face was pale and twitching.
“Y-your Imperial Majesty, p-please calm down and listen. Those things are bad news. I’m not even sure if all of us together could restrain even one of them. You should probably escape while you can. This is bad. Really bad. Look, my hands are—” His hands were shaking. The tension on his face made it clear they weren’t dancing with excitement.
“There’s no telling what those things are capable of… I think…they’re probably even stronger than Stronoff…”
The other of the Four was cautiously backing away. The only reason she hadn’t already bolted immediately was because she didn’t want to attract the monsters’ attention and the fact that they weren’t displaying any hostility at the moment.
It was like he’d wandered into a bad dream and gotten lost.
The scene before his eyes…
The death knights setting the furniture down on the grass… They certainly looked like servants, not legendary undead.
But given the reactions of everyone present, it must have been the truth that Fluder, the strongest caster Jircniv knew of, couldn’t control them.
In other words, there were five monsters here that could probably surpass Fluder’s ability in combat.
Fluder Paradyne’s strength was probably comparable to the entire imperial army’s. Gran
ted, he didn’t have infinite mana, so in a head-on clash, the army would eventually get the best of him, but if he resorted to flight and teleportation spells, he would have a chance of winning. That was the caliber of fighter he was.
These five death knights alone were equivalent to five times the imperial army?
It can’t be.
It mustn’t be.
That was too much power for one person. No, even for a nation, it was hard to acquire that much. Only places like the great nations, with their long histories, and the council state possessed that level of power. Could the master of a little tomb really have the same?
Ever since those two dark elves appeared, the thought that he had tried to ignore was unceremoniously thrust into his face.
“Ainz Ooal Gown…is untouchable… No, he’s a monster we should have nothing to do with…”
Jircniv’s mental state was shaken like a tiny boat at the mercy of a storm.
But with his iron will, he regained composure.
The sight of his guards being wiped out and those dragons had prepared him somewhat, which was significant.
If he hadn’t gone through that, the shock would have been even greater and he might have taken an even more useless posture.
This tomb… Ainz Ooal Gown… How much power does he have? Five death knights plus that pair. And the dragons? That can’t be the end of it. Why is he lurking in this place? And since when? Or is he making a move because his preparations are finally complete? I’ve heard that when undead gather, larger undead spawn. Death knights could spawn… Or, wait. Something even stronger than a death knight…? This is bad. There’s no time, but I have to think of some way to—
Jircniv’s thoughts were racing when Yuri said something that only deepened his confusion.
“Please don’t worry. These are all death knights that Lord Ainz created. They are perfectly obedient to him, and since I’ve been given authority over them, they follow my orders as well. They won’t harm you.”
Her words blew away the thoughts he had been trying to put together.
“He made them…?”
Ainz Ooal Gown was capable of creating undead this powerful. It was a truth that plunged Jircniv into utter despair. The cost of creating such things must be astronomical; the fact that he had apparently met that price was horrifying.
No, she’s bluffing. There’s no way he could do that. It’s just a lie to make them seem stronger than they are. If not—
Jircniv smiled.
Everything was such a pain now.
Yeah, I’m sick of this. I don’t care anymore. Th-this time we can just see what we’re up against. That’s fine.
“Hoo-hoo-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”
Right as Jircniv had given up on everything, giddy laughter erupted from next to him.
The source was Fluder.
It was clear from their expressions that the guards, leading disciples, priests—everyone except Jircniv—were in shock.
Fluder Paradyne was an elite caster, a hero whose culture and knowledge were unrivaled. He was a great man who, throughout imperial history, had single-handedly defeated monsters threatening the empire on more than one occasion. Many people respected him for his saintly countenance.
Everyone present could be counted among his admirers.
But at the moment, he was laughing with greed and desire that were unbecoming of such a legendary hero.
There was power in that laughter.
The aura of a hero…
That was exactly the spirit he was hitting them with at that moment. The protective fatherly warmth he usually projected was gone.
The magic within him was immensely powerful; he could defeat the Four all at once. That was the magnitude of his heroic strength, but his madness seemed to deepen the more he laughed.
It would have been stranger for the guards to not feel goose bumps.
At that point, only the group from Nazarick and Jircniv were unfazed.
“…He commands death knights. And so many of them! Wonderful! Marvelous! Splendid! Hoo-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Tears appeared in the corners of Fluder’s eyes, and on his face was a broken smile.
—No.
It was the true face of a man who had cast off his position as the empire’s principal court wizard in order to peer into the magical abyss.
It had always been there beneath his heroic expression. It had simply risen to the surface, drawn out by the appearance of an immensely powerful caster.
“Your Imperial Majesty, now then, now then, what will you do? Will you teleport away? If you flee now, I think you can make it—well, if the master of this land is generous, that is.”
Jircniv smiled at Fluder’s sneer-like expression. “That face fits you better, Gramps. Now, let me ask you a question: Do you really think I would run away?”
A fissure opened along Fluder’s face. The maniacal smile brought fear to all who saw it.
“Bravo, Your Imperial Majesty, or rather, my cute little Jir. Disciples! Open your eyes. Be thankful, for today you will meet the greatest caster on the entire continent. See the peak, then strive to reach it.”
Fluder’s disciples had gone pale, and the guards looked like they were ill after realizing the kind of being they were dealing with.
They knew their friends had been killed, but when Fluder, the first legendary hero to make his mark on imperial history, declared their opponent to be “the greatest caster,” the weight of that declaration sat in their guts like a boulder.
“Your Imperial Majesty, isn’t this super-bad?”
“…We’re allowed to run, right?”
Baswood was puzzled while Leinas was pleading.
Jircniv took a look around.
Setting aside Fluder and his disciples, the guards were also growing tense—to the point where they could rout at any moment.
It stemmed from the anxiety of having no plan to deal with either Fluder’s odd behavior or the strength of the death knights.
“There’s nothing we can do, is there? If you want to run, go ahead, but you won’t be one of us anymore. I do hope we don’t meet with the same fate as the workers who came before us…”
Leinas’s grimace showed her teeth.
“Are you all right with that?”
“Baswood… Gramps—Fluder is the one with the most detailed knowledge of magic, and well, look at him. I think we’ll have to leave it up to them.”
“What about praying for good luck and making a run for it?”
“Do you really think we’ll be able to get away?”
Baswood glanced at the maids, who were continuing their preparations despite being in earshot of this discussion about fleeing.
“What about taking a hostage?”
“I don’t like being given choices you know are impossible. Try saying that again, Lightning…”
“…My apologies. Frankly, that one maid is more difficult to fathom than the death knights. If someone told me she was stronger, I’d believe it… We’re having this rude conversation, and she’s not even batting an eye. Terrifying.”
That maid’s as strong as a monster herself.
With that thought, Jircniv shook his head, utterly worn out. He wanted to believe that wasn’t true simply because she was present at this tomb. He ignored the placidly smiling dark elves in the corner of his mind.
“Are you almost ready…? We’ve finished our preparations. If you like, please come and make yourself at home.”
There were several tables and chairs on the grass. The tables were covered with pure-white cloths, shaded by parasols. The death knights who had carried everything were quietly lined up out of the way along the log cabin’s wall.
“We’ve set out some refreshments for you.”
There were chilled decanters on the table with water droplets clinging to them. Inside was an orange liquid. Next to the decanters were clear, delicate glass cups. All the items were exquisitely ornate.
Even Jircniv, an emperor who spe
nt his days surrounded by only the best life had to offer, widened his eyes in surprise.
“If you need anything, please let us know. Girls…”
The door to the log cabin opened once again, and more maids came out. They were so gorgeous, Jircniv momentarily forgot everything that had happened so far.
A chignon, a straight cut, rolled curls. Each of the three women had her own type of beauty.
“This place is full of pretty ladies.”
Jircniv agreed with the comment from one of his guards. Why are there so many good-looking women out here at this tomb? Does it spawn them? Do they grow out of the ground?
He heard someone else suck their teeth, but he decided to ignore it.
“Let’s have a drink, the—”
“No, more importantly, when will I be able to meet Sir Ainz Ooal Gown? I’d like to see him as soon as possible… It would be fine even if it’s only me. If I could have a few minutes before his meeting with Jir, that—”
“Fluder, would you calm down?” This sort of rudeness couldn’t go on any longer. “Don’t forget why you’re here. We’ve come as representatives of the empire, not to seek the magic knowledge you want so badly.”
A glimmer of composure returned to Fluder’s eyes—just enough for him to restrain his personal desires.
“…Your Imperial Majesty, do excuse me. I seem to have gotten a bit excited. My deepest apologies for having disturbed everyone.”
“That’s the way, Gramps. Have a drink and chill out a bit. Okay, I think I’d like a drink.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yuri poured orange liquid into the glass in front of the seat Jircniv sat in. A sweet citrus smell filled the air.
Jircniv took a sip of the fruit water—and smiled in spite of himself. It was so delicious. It was a gesture that said, Then what have I been drinking all this time? The guards looked surprised as well. If Jircniv, who lived a life of luxury, was surprised, surely the guards were infinitely more shocked. Many of them even forgot their manners and guzzled their portions.
“This is great.”
“What is this stuff? The tart and sweet flavors are perfectly balanced.”
The Caster of Destruction Page 4
