“Ha-ha-ha! You’re right. Very good, Mare.”
Mare smiled bashfully.
Looking at that adorable face, Ainz was impressed. It was certainly true that any negotiations in the empire might have left evidence behind. But only a limited number of people visited him here, and it wasn’t as if they did any paperwork. That would work in his favor when someone wanted to investigate the truth of the matter.
Impressed with Demiurge’s wisdom in having the emperor come to Nazarick, Ainz looked at the guardians.
“Making a country will mean we have more to protect. There isn’t anyone to praise the name Ainz Ooal Gown in ruined countries. Now, is there anyone else who thought of something?”
He wondered if anyone else had realized something like Mare had.
The guardians all looked to Demiurge. They probably thought that, since he had the best intellect and functioned as their leader, he would have some idea. Ainz strongly agreed with them.
“Neh-heh-heh-heh.” Demiurge’s laugh echoed. “Do you guys really think that’s all there is to Lord Ainz’s plan?”
“Tee-hee-hee.”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“WHAT?”
“Ah.”
“…Huh?”
“Think a little bit, everyone. Do you really believe our master, the leader of the Supreme Beings, only thought things out that far?”
Ainz felt like he’d been punched and gulped, despite not having any spit, as the guardians all nodded in understanding.
Why are you raising the hurdle?!
He was probably lucky no one could detect his internal scream.
“Exactly. Hearing a simple answer and thinking you know his full intentions is too hasty. That’s why he doesn’t tell us the most profound parts!”
The guardians besides Demiurge and Albedo, unable to grasp Ainz’s true intentions, looked a little humiliated. They must have been wondering if they could be of any use to Ainz with the heads on their shoulders.
Ainz was deeply grateful to be in his current body. It was so easy to maintain a poker face.
“Oh, brother… Well, Lord Ainz, perhaps you should tell my colleagues your true aims? They’ll be involved in the plan going forward, so…”
All eyes focused on Ainz. Their eyes pleaded, Please teach us; we’re so stupid.
He looked around at their faces, inhaled once—no, he took several deep breaths.
Then he slowly stood up. He turned his back to the guardians and praised Demiurge over his shoulder.
“…Brilliant as always, Demiurge. And captain of the guardians, Albedo. To think you discovered all my aims… Wow.”
“No, you’ve thought it out so well. I could never follow all the way. I’m sure what I’ve grasped is only a part of your scheme.” Demiurge bowed in return. “I heard the maids calling you ‘the Resourceful King,’ and I think that’s the perfect nickname. It’s amazing that you’ve had this plan in mind since the time you created Momon the adventurer. With a plot like that, you won’t end up with any ruined countries.”
Ainz nodded proudly, but questions whirled within him.
…What is he talking about? Momon? What does that adventurer from E-Rantel have to do with this conversation?
“What do you mean?” Shalltear’s voice was surely filled with jealousy because only those other two had entered the realm of the master they worshipped.
Demiurge wore a faint smile, while Albedo’s was that of a victor. In response, Aura was pouting with her cheeks puffed out, too.
“Lord Ainz, please tell us, too. Then we’ll be able to be more useful to you!”
“U-uh, p-please tell me! Please!”
“I’M SURE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND WITHOUT AN EXPLANATION, BUT PLEASE FORGIVE OUR IGNORANCE.”
“Could you also tell me, too, please?”
The voices had something frantic about them.
Ainz put a hand over his eyes, still facing away from them. He had the illusion the stress was making him dizzy.
It makes us happy to serve and be of use to you, Supreme One.
Multiple voices said essentially the same thing.
Unable to answer the pleading guardians, Ainz’s heart was racked with guilt. The strong emotion should have been suppressed, but the pain was too great to be muffled.
Perhaps I should just be honest about what a fool I am?
But so many things wouldn’t allow the words to come out of Ainz’s mouth.
He cast off his indecision, turned around, and pointed forcefully at Demiurge with his staff, the proof that he was guild master.
“Demiurge. I permit you to explain to the others what you’ve understood.”
“Yes, my lord.” Demiurge nodded and began speaking to the others.
5
Was the reason the vibrations through the carriage felt bigger, even though nothing about the vehicle’s structure had changed, because the atmosphere inside it was so heavy? Or perhaps because the passengers were different?
Instead of Fluder, one of his leading disciples, and instead of Reaunet, one of his subordinate secretaries. The other two hadn’t changed: the owner of the carriage, Jircniv, and Baswood.
The reason Fluder wasn’t there was that he said he wanted to discuss what they’d seen with his disciples. So Jircniv had invited the leading disciple, who was second only to Fluder—albeit with quite a gap.
At this same time in Fluder’s carriage, a no doubt passionate discussion was raging.
That was the exact opposite of this carriage. In Jircniv’s carriage, there was only silence.
Only the heavy atmosphere ruled.
It was like that because of Jircniv. Because of his hard, sour expression.
Everyone knew Jircniv, despite fearing him as the Fresh Blood Emperor, as a man who always wore a slight grin. And it was an act he put on. He needed to show the masses that he was a strong emperor. Unless the one out front was bold, the ones who followed would be uneasy.
Of the three present, Baswood knew him best, but even he had probably never seen this expression on him before. And that was why everyone just sat stiffly in their seats saying nothing.
Though he sensed their eyes on him, Jircniv still didn’t feel like talking.
They all knew why.
No, if anyone thought anything else, Jircniv would have split their heads open to take a look at their brains. When else would he get the chance to see a brain the size of a pinkie fingernail?
The Great Tomb of Nazarick…? Calling that a tomb was misleading.
It’s the castle of a demon king…
That crowd of horrors. And the being beyond them…
Death seated on a crystal throne.
And it wasn’t just fear he felt.
The shining buildings of concentrated luxury, the numerous furnishings… It all had him in awe.
Jircniv was adept at politics, so he knew what ordeals the empire would go through in the coming days facing this being whose power in military, financial, and other spheres was without compare.
Having someone strong at the top of their country put citizens at ease. Conversely, even if a nation had strength, the people would be anxious if the top was a lamb. Luckily, the empire was a lion in both body and mind. But here came a country that was a dragon. How would that make the imperial subjects feel?
Jircniv looked down at his hands, white-knuckled from clenching them too long.
No, not yet. Our defeat is not set in stone just yet.
He smiled. It was a smile that suited the Fresh Blood Emperor.
As if they were waiting for that nasty expression, the faces of his subordinates relaxed. Seeing that, Jircniv put on a faint but genuine grin.
“Don’t keep peeking at me! It’s distracting.”
“Your Majesty!”
All three voices overlapped. Hearing their joy that their emperor had returned, Jircniv felt he knew what had to be done and nodded firmly.
“First, let’s make sure there are no discrepancies among the way each of us here felt in that place. If anyone has a different opinion, bring it up. Even if it’s off topic, that’s fine… Okay, for starters, let’s think about the ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Ainz Ooal Gown.”
After leaving a beat, Jircniv gave his honest impressions of the exceptional monster.
“Ainz Ooal Gown is a monster among monsters who can create death knights with no trouble at all. If he became our enemy, I imagine the empire would be destroyed. And even if our relationship is not hostile, there is still a good chance living things could be killed for fun. Any objections?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re absolutely right, Your Majesty.”
“No, I agree with you. If I was to add something, it’d be that I don’t think a human can beat him. I don’t even think anyone could get close enough to him to wield a sword—even if we sent the whole imperial army.”
Upon receiving the three men’s opinions, Jircniv continued. “Also, he reigns as an absolute ruler, and he seems to have the proper charms of a king.”
“Yeah, he was awesome. He’s more charismatic than our emperor!”
“Sir Baswood!”
“That’s fine. It’s true. I think there was only one time he displayed his actual emotions, but it sure had a conqueror’s impact.”
“You mean when he said, ‘Enough. Silence,’ right?”
Jircniv nodded slightly at his secretary’s confirmation.
The attitude Ainz Ooal Gown had displayed with that reprimand was truly that of the king of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.
“And…what’s more terrifying is that this monster is smart. He’s that rare breed of schemer whose every move has a meaning… Don’t look so confused, you guys. Think about it. Everything that happened from the moment I arrived went according to his plan. If it hadn’t, there’s no way he would have let us leave so easily. That monster with that much power is trying to win not with might but with strategy! He’s not merely strong.”
He was the type that was harder to deal with.
“Next, we should think about his subordinates. Give me your opinions.”
He wanted to hear the others’ thoughts, so he urged them to speak.
“The ones lined up near the front must have been his aides, right? Was the woman with wings standing next to Gown…his queen? That was how her attitude struck me.”
The peerless beauty in the white dress.
Her faint smile wasn’t kind, but even so, it was so alluring that he felt his heart nearly waver. She was so beautiful, there must be guys who lost to the desire to have her smile at them.
He had sensed that the black wings at her hips weren’t a magic item or part of her outfit. They were too natural. There were races with wings, like birdmen, but it seemed to him that she was probably one of the residents of the netherworld called demons.
“Maybe. She could be Ainz Ooal Gown’s wife. But if he has a wife, then, how do they…? Is just his face all bones? Or is he wearing a mask?”
“Who knows?” Jircniv shrugged, but he didn’t get the feeling that it was a mask. He didn’t think it was an illusion, either.
“Then there was that guy Demiurge who can control people with his voice… Is he a bard? Is he good at singing ’cause he’s a frog?”
Bard powers involved performing with instruments and their voices to cause special effects, similar to how Demiurge controlled people with his voice.
He’d also heard that some sprites, like Lorelei, had powers like that. But that man was definitely nothing as cute as a sprite.
“Oh, hmm. A bard? That seems likely. Then there was that one like a big bug… What was that thing?”
“Well, he could be a vermin race or… I don’t know much about any besides antmen, so I’ll ask Master later.”
It was a wide world out there. Some races weren’t very well-known, and surely mutations occurred as well. And lord races were said to change faster than normal ones, like the difference between a queen ant and worker ants. Jircniv thought something like that could be a possibility.
“So I guess what’s left are the silver-haired girl and the two dark elves? Setting aside the latter two, what about the former? Judging from the amazing swell of those breasts, she’s gotta be his favorite concubine!”
Everyone in the carriage winced at Baswood’s remark.
“No, I doubt he would put even his favorite concubine in that lineup.”
“She must be at least as strong as those dark elves.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. That could be the wrong assumption.” Baswood spoke in earnest. “There’s no doubt that the ones lined up there were close to that monster, but that doesn’t mean they all have to be strong. I mean, think about it. If Your Majesty had a hundred of me as your aides, just because I’m strong, don’t you think politics in the empire would break down and fall apart? Basically, she might be an aide who was chosen for a reason besides strength. Maybe his favorite concubine is really smart! Maybe she keeps things running smoothly inside that castle pretending to be a tomb.”
Someone said, “I see.”
Jircniv could also agree.
Distracted by Ainz Ooal Gown’s immense power, they had assumed that the silver-haired girl had to be strong just because she was standing next to those two dark elves. Of course, it was possible that her power was just as formidable as the dark elves, but he didn’t want to go in with preconceptions and have it bite them later.
“I guess that’s about it?” Jircniv looked at the others. “Your opinions were all things I was thinking, too. But hmm, if his aides had all been undead, that would have been at least some relief…but it seems like he had all kinds of different monsters.”
“Well, it was less like a monster trade fair and more like he’s found the ones that can do the job.”
Jircniv smiled faintly at how Baswood refused to mince words.
“Right. From what we know, it seems like it would make sense to investigate some more. As for other things I want to exchange thoughts on… The magnificence of that castle. A place that splendid should be mentioned in legends or something, wouldn’t you think?”
“My humble apologies, but I don’t know. As soon as we reach the capital, I’ll make a detailed search into myths and so on.”
Jircniv generously accepted the leading disciple’s apology. “All right, thanks. But did anyone think of anything? I can’t imagine an evil monster built such a heavenly residence. Did you see anything that might have been a clue? Is that place even a tomb? Does it have anything to do with the region’s history?”
There was no response.
Proof that everyone had the same question.
The possibility that it was teleported beneath the tomb from some other place, perhaps even from the alternate world of demons, was hard to discount. Or rather, that idea made the most sense.
“I guess we can’t reach a conclusion. We just don’t have enough information. We’ll need to get as much as we can from Vermilion and whoever comes to us from them. Got it?”
“Of course. I’ll do my best without arousing hostility or suspicion.”
“Your best had better be good enough. His war potential is far greater than the empire’s. Take care not to destroy our fake alliance.”
His secretary bowed his head, and Jircniv felt a little bit of the burden lift off his shoulders.
“…I’ve done a horrible thing to those others we brought along.”
Perhaps that was why he brought up the people who had been crammed in the carriages and not set a foot outside—the girls he thought he would give to Ainz Ooal Gown.
In any world, sex was liable to be weaponized. Perhaps the empire’s intelligence agency should have prepared some people skilled in exploiting that, but since there would have been trouble if they were found out via magic, he decided to gather up some innocent girls.
“Well, it was probably bad for their spirits to
have to go through bidding a final farewell to their families, but they must be happy with this outcome, don’t you think?”
“I wonder. Just managing to become a favorite concubine of that monster would be amazing.”
“Any woman who would be happy to sleep with that monster has nerves of steel.”
Baswood implied that no human could feel that way, but Jircniv knew that was naive. He had seen enough women’s hidden struggles, like how his mother had poisoned her husband, to be confident about that.
“Women are more courageous than men think, and they act out of emotion and for profit. I’m sure there are women who would be unfazed by sleeping with a skeleton king. In that sense, maybe we got lucky. A woman might have conned Ainz Ooal Gown into killing me.”
The others grinned, but Jircniv felt it could have happened.
He knew how the nobles hated him for the many reforms he had pushed through with state power. Of course, he had allies as well, but the only ones he could really trust were his aides and Fluder…
Then a question fluttered down on him like a feather.
It was about Fluder.
Fluder was his teacher, an important figure in the empire, and its trump card. He was the empire’s greatest hero, and Jircniv respected him. He also knew that when you removed the wise-man veneer, a thirst to touch the depths of magic, like a madness, swirled below. Which was why the question remained.
He wasn’t himself.
Ainz Ooal Gown was clearly a great caster who surpassed Fluder. He could create with ease the death knights Fluder failed to control. So why did Fluder follow Jircniv out of the tomb without a word?
Normally, Gramps would have asked that horrible monster for magic knowledge. He would have gotten down on all fours and thrown himself at his feet…
It was so easy to imagine.
But he didn’t do anything. He didn’t even ask about it. Like he wasn’t even himself… Could something…have happened to him?
Everyone bowed down according to Demiurge’s order. But maybe that was only a distraction, and his real aim was to put Fluder under some sort of mind control?
The Caster of Destruction Page 7
