But Gazef was different.
“Ainz Ooal Gown… He must be as powerful as Shalltear Bloodfallen. Gazef stood before him and issued a challenge.”
Gazef didn’t take him on in single combat for some pathetic reason like surviving. His attitude had been completely different from when Brain waved his sword recklessly at Shalltear, sobbing.
Then why did he do it?
“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you run away?” He painfully choked out the words. “Why did you choose death?! That monster was going to let you go! You should have built up your strength! Why did you…? If I have to die, I wanted to go with you!”
If he couldn’t surpass Gazef, his wish was to die beside him.
Brain looked at the weapon on his hip.
He’d been authorized to borrow Razor Edge temporarily.
Drawing the razor-sharp blade, Brain used a martial art.
“Fourfold Slash of Light.”
It was the move that Gazef had used to defeat him in the tournament.
Four flashes sliced through the parapet. There was virtually no resistance; the sword was so sharp, it felt like cutting through water.
“I even learned this because of you… I admired you so much… I wanted to die together, if it was possible. Why didn’t you let me fight beside you? Why didn’t you tell me to die?”
Brain buried his face in his hands.
The backs of his eyes grew hot, but the tears didn’t fall.
Just then, Brain heard the clacking of footsteps. He could think of only one person who would come here.
“…It’s true that you get sentimental with age…”
“I don’t think the sorrow of losing someone important to you has anything to do with age.”
It was the hoarse voice he expected.
“…Sorry, Climb…for making you handle everything.”
Brain rubbed his eyes and sheathed his sword before turning around.
Climb was standing there with a solemn expression on his face, still in his armor.
“Well, I probably wouldn’t have been much use anyhow, right? And under the circumstances, there’s probably no one trying to kill the king at the moment. So what’s the latest?”
“Since Prince Barbro still hasn’t returned, the plan is to send out a search party tomorrow.”
Apparently, since they couldn’t use soldiers, they would hire adventurers.
“Then there were no objections regarding the transfer of E-Rantel. All the nobles are in favor, and the king agreed as well.”
Apparently even the members of the king’s faction agreed.
The king’s faction had gained power after the demon disturbance. That was how they had mustered such a large army for the war, but when that army suffered a catastrophic defeat, there was major backlash. Moreover, none of the nobles would be harmed by handing over this area, which was a part of the king’s domain. If it would help them stay alive, surely they had no reason to be against the deal.
So this time, the king’s faction lost power, while the nobles’ faction grew stronger.
What would happen next?
Climb suddenly realized he was trembling.
It wasn’t anger but fear. Recalling what had happened, his fractured heart cried out, as if that absolute despair was still nearby.
“…Just remembering it all frightens me.”
Had it only been the extraordinary strength of a person in crisis?
Brain thought back to when Climb had stood beside him to fight the King of Darkness. Then he thought he might know the answer to his question.
“Hey, tell me. Why did Gazef challenge him to single combat?”
Climb looked at him questioningly. Brain wondered if he hadn’t worded it clearly enough, but before he could even open his mouth to say more, Climb spoke.
“This is purely my personal thoughts, but would that be all right with you?”
“Sure, tell me whatever you think.”
“…I think he wanted us to see.”
“…See what?”
“The power of the King of Darkness, King Ainz Ooal Gown. And…I think he wanted to create a future.”
“A future?”
“Yes. I think he wanted us to have some record, some strategy, for the next time.”
A shocking realization struck Brain from his head to his toes like lightning.
There could be no other reason. Climb was exactly right.
The man must have risked his life to draw out even the slightest bit of intelligence. Brain didn’t think the King of Darkness would accept a close-quarters battle without an entourage. But Gazef had bet on the miracle of it happening once more. And who did he want to give that possibility to?
Brain smiled self-deprecatingly. You couldn’t even manage to think that far, Brain?
Now that I know how Gazef felt, how should I live my life?
When Climb could no longer tolerate the silence after Brain sank deep into thought, he asked, “…By the way, you aren’t going to resurrect Sir Stronoff?”
“Gazef’s not that sort of guy.”
And casting the spell didn’t guarantee resurrection. He had heard that people who were satisfied with their life refused.
“The king won’t accept that.”
“Probably not, but he’s not coming back… It’s strange…”
“It is. I don’t understand what Sir Stronoff was thinking. I can’t help but think the right thing to do would be to come back and remain loyal.”
“Oh? That’s all right for you, Climb. If I die…don’t resurrect me. With that dissatisfaction hanging over me…I wouldn’t feel alive.”
“I would want you to resurrect me. I want to devote myself to Princess Renner until there is nothing left. Of course, only do it if you can afford it.”
There was only one caster in the kingdom who could use resurrection magic. She would probably charge an astronomical—and fair—price to bring someone back.
She made a special exception for the demon disturbance, since all the adventurers had formed a team, but usually resurrection required quite a lot of gold. It was an eye-popping sum that a commoner or soldier could save for all their lives and still never have enough. That applied to Climb as well.
Brain didn’t speak his thoughts aloud—that the princess would probably pay for it. His only reply was, “I see.”
Another silence descended, and this time Brain broke it.
“I wanted to defeat him…”
Climb didn’t say anything. And Brain didn’t want him to. Even if he told Climb the whole story, it wouldn’t matter. But for some reason, he wanted to spit it out, something that had been building up in his heart.
“A long time ago, I lost to him. So I wanted to win the next time. But it’s impossible now… Ahhh, I can’t escape.” Brain looked up at the night sky. “Damn it all…”
“…Brain.”
What should I do?
What should I do with these thoughts of Gazef?
“Well, let’s see. What am I fretting about, really? I have two choices. To follow his wishes or not. So I’ll have to…win…? Ah, I see.”
There’s only one answer.
Brain broke into a savage smile and thrust Razor Edge toward the sky.
“Ha! Why would I do what you wanted?” Brain roared from the pit of his stomach. “You asshole, you chose death! You took the easy way out! I hope you’re humiliated over there in the next world! I-I’m gonna—I’m gonna surpass you in my own way! Climb! Let’s drink! Booze! We’re gonna go nuts!”
Brain didn’t know what to do.
But he had no interest in inheriting Gazef’s way of doing things and working. He would never best his rival that way.
He knew he would remember Gazef time after time. But for just a moment, he wanted to forget him.
Putting his arm over the shoulder of a bewildered Climb, he forced the young man to join him as he set off walking. His hands felt a tiny bit lighter.
A Brand-new Chap
ter
Everyone was waiting for spring. That was especially true in the farming villages, where they could feel the soil coming back to life, but it was true for those in the royal capital as well. Of course, the way they felt it was by the disappearance of firewood and other heating fees.
But the day spring came to E-Rantel, there was only stillness.
The main road was deserted, as if everyone had died. But inside the houses lining it with their shutters drawn—although looking closely, they were open a crack—the presence of people could be felt. They were peeking outside with bated breath.
It was the day that E-Rantel was transferred to Ainz Ooal Gown and became a city of the Nation of Darkness.
The first castle gate opened, and the bells rang out in welcome.
After an appropriate pause, the second gate opened, and the bells rang again.
Between the second and third gates was the area where most of the people lived.
The reason the residents hadn’t fled the city was that they knew that even if they ran, their lives would be hopeless.
Even those who had attained the status of master or craftsman in E-Rantel would have to start over as apprentice in a new city.
In a city with history, vested interests existed as a matter of course. It was only natural that an outsider would start from the lowest level. In other words, even if they went to another city, most people wouldn’t be able to find proper work and would spend the rest of their lives in a slum.
Those with nowhere to run to—almost everyone—remained.
But even these people would run if their lives were in danger. Of course they would. What they knew of their new lord—no, king—was that he was horrible.
For instance, he was a caster who massacred the kingdom’s army.
For instance, he was cold-blooded and immortal.
For instance, he was a monster who loved bathing in the blood of children.
They had heard all sorts of rumors, none of them good.
That was why they were all hiding behind closed doors, in the shadows of their windows, waiting to catch a glimpse of Ainz Ooal Gown.
Soon, his party came down the main road.
Everyone who saw him was rendered speechless—because he looked exactly as the rumors said.
The first person was fine. At the head of the group was a beautiful woman who shone like the moon.
She wore a snow-white dress and had lustrous black hair and skin like white marble. Her bejeweled appearance was so overwhelming that it left no room for lust or envy. But the horns growing out of her head, the black wings sprouting from her hips, and more than anything, her impossible beauty was proof that she wasn’t human.
Following the peerless, goddess-like beauty came soldiers. At that point, the residents shivered.
From the differences in armor, they could tell there were two groups.
To name the first group, perhaps “Knights of Death”?
Each knight carried a tower shield that covered three-quarters of their body in their left hand and a flamberge in their right.
Under ragged raven-black capes, their hulking bodies—well over six feet tall—were covered in full plate armor made of black metal with a pattern like crimson blood vessels running over it. Sharp spikes jutted out here and there, making the suit an embodiment of violence. Their helmets had demon horns and open faces that left the beings’ rotting features visible. In their vacant eye sockets, their hatred for living things and anticipation of slaughter burned red.
As a name for the second group, “Warriors of Death” seemed appropriate.
They carried long-handled, single-edge swords and had an array of different weapons on their hips—hand axes, maces, crossbows, whips, short spears. All their equipment had marks that showed they were well used.
They were over six feet tall and armored but lightly. It was unclear what animal’s leather it was, but they wore beat-up leather armor and wound curse wraps—bandages with curses written on them—around their arms, face, and so on. Peeking out from beneath the bandages were, like the other group, crumbling features that definitely didn’t belong to a living creature.
Every member in the group seemed inordinately powerful, but when the people saw the palanquin they were carrying, their shock was overwritten by a new awe and forgotten.
The undead seated on it radiated the overwhelming presence of death and gave off a swirling black haze. Behind him shone a black halo.
Everyone knew immediately—this being was Ainz Ooal Gown.
We can’t live under a creature like that. This goes far beyond the threat of death. Many of them were convinced of that, but suddenly a door flew open.
Everyone who peered desperately through tiny gaps of cover to see what was happening saw a boy running. He had something clenched in his hand as he raced toward Ainz Ooal Gown’s grotesque procession. A deathly pale woman who seemed to be his mother was running after him.
“Give Daddy back!” His young, high-pitched voice echoed horribly loudly. “Give Daddy back, you monster!”
He wound up and threw something. It was a stone.
The little rock he had been grasping flew toward the parade, probably at Ainz Ooal Gown.
Perhaps because the boy had been nervous, the stone fell far short of its target and rolled over the dirt.
Coming after him, the boy’s mother looked like she might drop dead at any moment, as though she fully understood what their fate would be. She scooped her boy up from behind, desperately trying to shield him with her own body.
“H-he’s just a child! I beg you, please forgive him!”
The beautiful woman smiled in response to the mother’s frantic plea.
We’re saved. Anyone would think that and feel relief. It was such a gentle, motherly smile.
“It was disrespectful to Lord Ainz. The punishment is death.”
When had she taken it out? The beautiful woman was suddenly wielding a gigantic bardiche. Her strength was undoubtedly inhuman.
It was easy to imagine how it would be used, and that imagining could be said to have been correct.
“What a rotten animal you’ve raised. You should be ashamed as a stock breeder of how meager the price of its meat will be!”
Realizing what their fate would be as the beautiful woman approached, the mother squeezed her son tightly.
“Please! My son, please at least spare my son. I don’t care what happens to me! I beg you!”
“What are you talking about? I’m not going to kill you. Lord Ainz is not partial to senseless killing. I won’t kill anyone who hasn’t committed a crime. Relax and wait for that ground beef in your hands to be ready… My personal favorite is deep-fried meat patties.”
No one knew how she would kill the boy in his mother’s arms. But although everyone knew the boy’s short life would end in a few seconds, no one rushed out to try to save him.
The onlookers wanted to avoid seeing the coming bloodshed, but they couldn’t tear their eyes away.
Both mother and child seemed bound by the beautiful woman’s ghastly energy—they didn’t move a muscle.
“Regret your ill-mannered actions toward the loftiest one of this world and die.”
The moment she was about to swing her huge weapon, the ground jolted. The source was a giant sword that stuck into the earth between the pitiable pair and the woman.
There was no one in this city who didn’t know that sword—or its owner.
The living legend.
The undefeated warrior.
The great, kind hero.
Upon the arrival of the one person who could save the poor mother and child, everyone shouted the name of the sword’s owner in their minds.
It was the Dark Warrior, Momon.
The man clad in raven-black armor leisurely appeared on the road and pulled the sword out of the earth. He waved it in a huge arc to shake the dirt off. He already had a sword in his other hand, falling into a combat stance as he faced the beautiful woman
.
“You’re being awfully rough on a kid who threw a stone. No one’s going to want to marry you.”
“How rude, but when it’s you saying it, I feel fi— Ahem. If someone has been disrespectful to Lord Ainz, it doesn’t matter whether they’re an adult or a child. They must all die.”
“And what if I said I wouldn’t allow that?”
“I would consider it a revolt against the king of this land and crush you.”
“I see. Well, that’s not bad. But don’t think you can take my life so easily. Know this is the place you’ll die; then come at me!”
Momon dexterously brandished his two swords and prepared for battle. His bold—and not only that but commanding—attitude was appropriately heroic.
“You guys, protect Lord Ainz,” the beautiful woman ordered the warriors who had backed up with the palanquin. Then she held up her bardiche.
The spectators’ feeling that Momon could win for sure was negated by the equally intense opposing forces. They knew instinctively that this woman was as powerful a warrior as Momon.
The fighters closed the distance between them slowly, by fractions of a stride. The one who defused the volatile atmosphere was Ainz Ooal Gown himself. Perhaps by magic? He silently flew out of the palanquin and alighted on the ground, then grabbed the beautiful woman’s shoulder from behind.
“Lord Ainz!”
Then he brought his face close to the woman’s ear and whispered something. Her face melted into a gentle, lovey smile.
“Understood, Lord Ainz. I’ll do as you say.”
After bowing to Ainz, she pointed the bardiche at Momon again, but there was none of the bloodthirstiness of before.
“…I didn’t ask your name. Tell me it now.”
“I’m Momon.”
“I see. Momon. I ask you: Do you think you can beat us?”
“…No, it’d be impossible. If I went in meaning to die, I could probably only kill one of you.”
Hearing that, the people of the city were assailed by despair. Such a great hero could kill only one of the monsters…
“And if I fought at full strength, lots of people would die in the resulting battle. I can’t do that.”
“What a fool you are. You have such outstanding power, and yet for these weaklings, you would— Oh, I seem to have spoken in vain. Apparently, Lord Ainz has a proposition for you. You should be grateful. Say you surrender to the army of Nazarick.”
The Caster of Destruction Page 29
