The Caster of Destruction

by Kugane Maruyama

  They didn’t seem to notice that anyone with a decent sense of tact wore a bitter expression.

  “You should go, then.” The king sounded tired as he gave the order. “Sir Momon is an adamantite-plate adventurer, though. Don’t do anything to upset him.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty! I, Nosmartz, shall carry out this royal order without fail!”

  “All right, then. Do take care to respect Sir Momon,” the king repeated and then dismissed him with a wave of his hand. The noble who had received the order exited the room, brimming with confidence.

  It seemed like he didn’t realize that he would be cast aside the instant any trouble occurred.

  Marquis Raeven sighed. “Well, we got off topic… Where were we…? Oh, right. I believe we were talking about how much fighting power Ainz Ooal Gown has. I’d like our common understanding to be that he, on his own, is equivalent to five thousand soldiers, if there are no objections…?” He eyed Gazef.

  “No, no objections.”

  Gazef felt like double that still probably wasn’t enough, but he knew it would be a challenge to get anyone who hadn’t witnessed his power to believe that.

  “All right. Then can everyone send their troops to the area of Katze Plain as specified by the empire?”

  Each noble gave their assent as Raeven looked at them in turn. When he faced Marquis Beauleurope, the man answered loudly.

  “Of course it’s no problem, Marquis Raeven! I can move my army at once. And Your Majesty, I have one proposal—if I may? There’s something I would like the prince to do for me.”

  There was only one prince present. All eyes turned to Barbro.

  “It’s said that the caster Ainz Ooal Gown showed up and saved Carne. If he was just playing at chivalry, that’s fine, but it’s also possible he was making some sort of strategic move. I think we should send an army and speak with the people there. I’d like the prince to command that endeavor.”

  “Marquis!”

  Barbro glared sharply at Marquis Beauleurope.

  “Silence.” It was the king who spoke. “That’s not a bad idea. My son, I hereby order you: Go to Carne and speak with the people there.”

  Gazef desperately worked to keep his eyebrows from moving.

  He didn’t think it would be possible to get information about the caster from Carne at this point. And wasn’t it a bad idea to split up their forces, even slightly?

  “…If it’s an order, then I have no choice but to obey. But please know that it’s not what I want to do.”

  Realizing the king had no intention of retracting his command, the prince bowed his head, though he didn’t attempt to hide his displeasure.

  “For the army that will go to the village, I’ll lend you some of my elite troops. Please also allow me to gather some nobles to accompany Your Highness. I imagine five thousand is enough?”

  “Aha, so you’re wary of a detached imperial unit? You’re always so perceptive, Marquis Beauleurope.”

  Gazef understood Marquis Raeven’s comments, but he wondered if the empire would really pull such a stunt after specifying the location of the battle. In a normal war, that would be elementary strategy, but to send out a detachment after promising a definitive battle would simply earn contempt from neighboring countries. The empire would be hanging itself.

  “I doubt it will require that many soldiers, but it’s your proposal, Marquis. I’ll leave the numbers up to you.”

  “I’m grateful, Your Majesty. There is one more thing…”

  Marquis Beauleurope paused for a moment, less to take a breath than to make sure everyone was listening.

  “Who will lead the army in this war? I have no problem taking command, if need be.”

  The atmosphere shifted.

  That was a disquieting remark. He was asking the king a question, but the content of it was something else entirely. He was putting invisible pressure on the king to hand over command authority.

  When asked whether King Ramposa III or Marquis Beauleurope would be the better commander, most of the nobles would choose Marquis Beauleurope. He was also responsible for raising a full fifth of the kingdom’s army—fifty thousand men.

  Additionally, he had an elite corps. It was a band of professional soldiers inspired by Gazef’s Royal Select.

  Their combat ability was high. They weren’t as strong as Gazef’s men, but they could still fight evenly or better against the empire’s knights. What was particularly surprising was how many there were—some five thousand in total. If they fought the Royal Select, they would probably win a crushing victory with sheer numerical superiority.

  If the king wasn’t present, command would no doubt go to Marquis Beauleurope. But the king was present. In which case, Ramposa III commanding was only natural, but the members of the nobles’ faction probably wouldn’t accept that readily.

  Gazef’s expression grew stern in response to Marquis Beauleurope’s pressuring question, but although the marquis saw that, he didn’t pay him any mind. To Marquis Beauleurope, Gazef was merely a peasant who could handle a sword. He couldn’t even stand the fact that anyone who wasn’t a noble was attending the meeting.

  “…Marquis Raeven.”

  “Your Majesty!”

  “I entrust you with command. March the army safely to the Katze Plain. I leave the formations and positioning after that up to you.”

  “Understood.” Marquis Raeven accepted the royal order with a bow. Marquis Beauleurope’s desired command had been swiped, but he couldn’t complain if it was Marquis Raeven. Everyone knew how he excelled, so it was hard to criticize Raeven in a harsh way. More importantly, he had an incredible number of connections. Even some of the nobles under Marquis Beauleurope were indebted to him. Criticizing him in front of them could make them question Marquis Beauleurope’s capabilities, so he had no choice but to agree.

  “Marquis Raeven, I’ll entrust my army to you as well. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Marquis Beauleurope. I will.”

  The king had managed the situation brilliantly. Gazef couldn’t have been more satisfied if he had done it himself.

  “Is there anything else?” He waited briefly for any answer, but no one responded. “…Then begin preparations for war. You’ll be departing as early as tomorrow. It will probably take two days to reach the battlefield. Make sure to prepare carefully. You are dismissed. Marquis Raeven, the rest I leave to you.”

  “Understood, Your Majesty.”

  Everyone left the room in order to make their departure arrangements, and the only ones left were the king and Gazef.

  Ramposa III slowly rolled his neck in a circle. Even Gazef could hear it cracking. It had to have been awfully stiff—the look on his face said it must have felt good to stretch.

  “You must be tired, Your Majesty.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  Gazef winced. Miniature versions of the kingdom’s two rivaling factions had been there moments ago. The fatigue the king felt had to be quite serious. But there were people who had suffered more than King Ramposa III.

  “I think it’s about time…”

  As soon as Ramposa III spoke, there were several knocks at the door. Then it slowly swung open and someone who had been waiting came inside. It was a man with a face that was not much to look at—the best description was probably overweight bulldog. His hair was thin enough that his head was reflecting the light, and the hairs that were there had turned white.

  His body was round, with an overgenerous amount of fat around his abdomen and so much flesh gathered under his chin it left onlookers in disbelief.

  No, he may not have been much to look at, but there was a gleam of wisdom in his eyes. Ramposa III greeted him with a deeply sympathetic smile.

  “Thanks for coming, Panasolei.”

  “Your Royal Majesty.” The mayor of E-Rantel gave his master a respectful bow. Then he shifted his gaze. “It’s been a while, Sir Stronoff.” Panasolei was a noble, but he was extremely polite t
o Gazef, a commoner, and paid him respect. It was precisely because he was that sort of man that he was dispatched to such a key location.

  “Well, if it isn’t the mayor. Thank you again for your assistance that time. And thank you for helping treat my men’s wounds. I had to report back to the king as soon as possible, so I rushed off without offering a proper thank-you. My apologies for that.”

  “No, no, please don’t trouble yourself. When you were attacked, I understood what a major incident it was, so I didn’t find it strange at all, nor could I have.”

  They bowed repeatedly to each other, and the king’s cheerful laughter echoed out.

  “Panasolei, not going to do that snorting thing this time?”

  “Your Majesty… There’s no point in putting on that act with people who won’t underestimate me. Or do Your Majesty and Sir Stronoff think I’m the kind of man who actually does that sort of thing?”

  “Sorry, sorry. I was only joking. Forgive me, Panasolei.”

  “No, as your subject, I spoke too harshly. Please excuse my rudeness, Your Majesty. Now then…shall we begin?”

  “No…” The king hesitated before responding. “No, there should be one more coming. Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

  “Oh? Then should we get the matter of expenses for the city’s provisions out of the way? I can also explain the calculation of national strength a year out based on materials the marquis provided.”

  “Yes, I’d like to get anything that will give me a headache out of the way first.”

  The contents of Panasolei’s report made even Gazef, who knew very little about the internal affairs of the kingdom, frown in worry.

  The piling costs were enough to make anyone anxious for the future of the country. Scraping together the great number of necessary provisions had worsened the domestic food situation. Of special concern was the decline in national strength that would occur after demobilizing the conscripts.

  Panasolei’s estimate—though it was probably generous—was enough to give anyone a nervous tic.

  The king was grimacing.

  “What will we do…?”

  “If…the same thing happens next year, and the empire attacks, the danger that the kingdom might collapse from internal strife will only grow. If the tax rate remains steady, we’ll see commoners dying of starvation, but if we lower it, there won’t be enough money to fund all our policies.”

  Ramposa III put a hand to his forehead and covered his face.

  It was the result of dealing with the empire’s harassment in a haphazard way for so many years. By the time they realized the empire’s goal was to send the kingdom into a slow decline, it was too late.

  “Your Majesty…”

  “This is bad. If only I had acted sooner… I wish I could have handled it before the factions completely split in two. How stupid…”

  “That’s not true, Your Majesty. If you had tried to handle it then, a civil war might have split the kingdom in half, and in its weakened state, the empire could have swallowed everything.”

  Gazef could state it with certainty: King Ramposa III was doing a good job. The current state of things was due to the preceding royalty’s lack of action. Years and years of grime were impossible to clear away in a single generation.

  “I want to leave the kingdom to my heir in better condition than when I received it, even if only slightly…,” the king said with emotion. His next words contained strength. “I guess now is my chance. Thanks to the demon disturbance, I have gained many supporters. Is this an opportunity to deal a serious blow to the empire and earn us some years of peace?”

  Gazef saw a dangerous gleam in the king’s eyes. He knew he should stop him. But the words wouldn’t come.

  If it was something about fulfilling the king’s own ambitions, he could advise, but when it was for the stability of his family, the words couldn’t get past his throat.

  The man closest to the king and witnessing his suffering couldn’t stop him from feeling that way.

  “There’s a possibility, but as you know, it’s dangerous. If you act in a way that would grind down the nobles’ power, the nation could be thrown into disorder.”

  The king furrowed his brow, which pained Gazef.

  “You’re always right, Panasolei. Still, there’s always a chance surgery will kill you, but it might also keep you alive. If we do nothing, the disease will spread throughout the entire body, leading us to a death that is slow but certain. In that case, shouldn’t we take action?”

  “What are you saying, Your Majesty? Surgery can’t be trusted. There must be a better method.”

  “If there were magic that could save the kingdom, I would rely on that, but there isn’t. The only treatment option we have is the primitive folk practice of opening up the body and removing the site of the disease.”

  Only the horrifically savage method said to be suggested by a minotaur sage could save the kingdom now. To think that their king felt so cornered that he would even say such a thing. A dismal silence fell upon the room.

  It felt like the gloomy, oppressive atmosphere would never lift, but a knock echoed out, interrupting it.

  Marquis Raeven entered without waiting for a reply.

  “I apologize for keeping you waiting, everyone.”

  Relief filled the room.

  “Oh, you’re finally here. Marquis Raeven, I am sorry for taking up your time.”

  For a moment, the marquis looked as if he didn’t know what matter the king was referring to, but then he realized and radiated an aura of exhaustion.

  “Not at all, Your Majesty. You needn’t concern yourself. Handing Marquis Beauleurope command of the entire army would be the height of folly. The only commands he would give are ‘charge’ and ‘retreat.’”

  That was an awful thing to say, but it wasn’t clear if Raeven had meant it or not. It was possible he sensed the woebegone mood of the room and was making a joke to lighten things up.

  “And if Your Majesty had taken direct command, it might have resulted in the nobles’ faction retracting their support for the war. That left no one else suitable besides me. That said, I would like you to spare me a grueling, no-vacation workload, so I’m announcing ahead of time that after this war is over, I shall take the liberty of holing up in my domain for a few months. Now then”—his expression tensed—“my apologies, but I can’t stay very long, so let’s make short work of these issues.”

  It was the usual cold, snakelike face, but Gazef could see human emotion, perhaps even something agreeable.

  I was a fool for not being able to discern his true personality. If someone told me I didn’t have an eye for people, I’d have to agree.

  Frustrated, he recalled the conversation that had taken place in the king’s private chambers before he left the capital. There had been five people present: Ramposa III, himself, Princess Renner, plus Prince Zanac and Marquis Raeven. The astounding things he heard from those latter two shattered his rigid perception of the court. Astounding wasn’t enough to describe the shock that the people he had so loathed were actually the ones doing the most to support the king.

  “Whether for my children or you, I’m always causing trouble.”

  Turning to Marquis Raeven with a sincere expression, Ramposa III bowed deeply.

  “Please don’t, Your Majesty. For my part, I did many things without consulting you first. I regret not dealing with them sooner in a different way.”

  “Marquis Raeven, please allow me to apologize as well.” Gazef bowed deeply. “Unaware of your true intentions, I was tricked by your conduct on the surface and harbored disrespectful feelings toward you. Please forgive me for being such a fool.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Captain.”

  “Even so, if you don’t punish me for my folly, this thorn will remain.”

  Marquis Raeven shook his head a few times in astonishment, then dealt out the punishment. “Understood… Then allow me to call you Sir Gazef from now on, because I’ve always respec
ted you.”

  It was a punishment that wasn’t a punishment.

  Feeling even greater disbelief at how blind he had been, Gazef thanked the marquis from the bottom of his heart.

  “My thanks, Marquis Raeven.”

  “It’s nothing, Sir Gazef. Now then, let us begin. We need to decide what actions the kingdom will take next.”

  3

  When Gazef went through the gate and arrived at the barracks in the outer circle, he took a deep breath and expelled his mental fatigue.

  He was truly tired.

  The times he truly felt like a commoner were during meetings like the one he had just left.

  Serving next to the king and observing noble society, he had come to understand how they thought.

  But there were often still certain ways of handling things or ideas that popped up that only people born and raised as nobles could understand, and at those times, he had to wonder why they thought the way they did. He felt it especially whenever they prioritized their pride as nobles over concrete benefits.

  No, what he understood even less was when they prioritized their own pride over their people.

  Gazef looked around.

  The soldiers rushing to and fro—they were the people. These were the subjects of the kingdom, all gathered from different villages for the coming battle. As soldiers, they looked so powerless. They should have been holding hoes and spades.

  Wasn’t it the job of those at the top to protect these people?

  It was wrong to say they should give away E-Rantel. Like the king said, handing over E-Rantel would hurt the people living here.

  But…

  The image of Ainz Ooal Gown in his strange mask appeared in Gazef’s mind.

  When the caster returned to Carne with the first signs of night, he didn’t look at all like he had just fought a fierce battle.

  Yes, he and his partner had returned without a scratch from a clash with an opponent who had crushed Gazef and his men.

  King of Darkness—they were appropriate words for a being so transcendent.

  Compared to the folly of opposing that man head-on, he would rather… But that choice would hurt the people.