Overlord, Vol. 9: The Caster of Destruction

Chapter 1 |

Verbal Warfare

1

Six splendid carriages raced across the plain.

Despite running over grass, they were surprisingly stable.

First, there were the wheels: They were a magic item called Comfortable Wheels. Not only that, the body was equipped with a magic item called Lightweight Cargo. The supremely luxurious carriage, which cost an eye-popping amount to manufacture, was drawn along by equally special creatures. They were magical beasts that resembled horses called sleipnirs.

By the time six of those were included, it became absurd to try to calculate the expenses involved.

The carriages that required more than wealth for a seat were surrounded by guards mounted on magnificent horses. There were over twenty of them, and they all wore matching gear—a mail shirt, a longsword on their hip, and a quiver of arrows plus longbow on their back.

They were all men except the woman leading them out front.

Unlike the others, she was heavily armored. She wore full plate armor and carried a sort of spear that was different from a normal knight’s lance. Her visor was up, but strangely the right side of her face was covered in gold cloth.

The word
mercenaries
seemed appropriate for the armed band, but their movements and discipline gave off a different impression. Their eyes were sharp, vigilant against their surroundings.

Perhaps they looked like cowards, keeping their guard up in the middle of an open field, but in a magical world where monsters were rampant, one could never be too cautious.

Giant spiders that lurked underground forgoing both food and water, waiting patiently for their prey to pass by; impure monsters with no fixed form, swooping through the air as mist; basilisks with petrifying gazes that forced anyone who spotted them to flee, even if they were off on the horizon… In order to be prepared to face monsters with such deadly abilities, the guards maintained a cloak of focused tension. Normal mercenaries didn’t go to such lengths.

What proved more than anything else that they weren’t merely hired hands were the ones who kept watch up in the sky, though they couldn’t be seen. They were as invisible as if they had used a spell and flew alongside the group on the ground.

A hippogriff, born from crossbreeding a griffin and a female horse, was a magical beast that was half-eagle, half-horse. Perhaps due to their horse blood, they were easier to handle than griffins, making hippogriffs a popular flying mount. The guards in the sky were riding those.

Flying mounts—though these were monsters—fetched extremely high prices. It would be impossible for mere mercenaries to collect so many.

Yes, they were dressed as mercenaries in order to deceive all manner of observers.

The land-bound group consisted of Imperial Guards. The airborne group, equipped with incredibly precious magic items that made both the wearer and their mount invisible, had drawn its members from the elites of the Imperial Air Guard.

Naturally, the owner of the carriages was the Baharuth emperor, Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix.

There was a number of reasons they were outfitted that way, but the most important was that it was unacceptable for the emperor to violate the border by openly bringing his knights into the kingdom. That’s why even the carriage exteriors were simple in design compared to the interiors—although they were still fancier than average.

Jircniv’s carriage, three spots back from the head of the column, was even more heavily guarded than the others. On its roof, the cargo rack had been upgraded to provide hiding places for two archers among the luggage.

Moreover, the interior was extravagant. It was less like a carriage and more like luxury accommodations on wheels. Both the walls and floor were covered in soft carpeting. The seats facing each other were equally soft, designed so that even long journeys didn’t get uncomfortable.

There were three people riding with Jircniv. Four people might sound like a crowd, but that thought occurred only to people who had never ridden in a luxury carriage. In reality, the four men had plenty of space.

“—Majesty. Your Imperial Majesty, perhaps you should wake up.”

The voice roused Jircniv from his nap.

He rubbed his eyes with his thumbs and forefingers before emitting a huge yawn. Then with an “Nhhn!” he stretched his back. Loosening up his body felt good. Then he yawned again.

“You were sound asleep, but it seems you’re still tired.”

The voice that woke Jircniv from his pleasant nap belonged to a secretary permitted to ride in the carriage with him, Reaunet Vermilion. He replied with a shake of his head.

“Oh, no, I’m not. I’m groggy but not tired anymore. But wow, I haven’t had a nap in a while—probably since I was a kid! When I’m at the palace, I have mountains of work I have to do, but on this trip, there’s nothing… This is the first time I feel grateful to Gown.”

“Ahhh yeah, you’re always busy doing something. Why is that?”

The one who spoke to him as if he weren’t the emperor was the leader of the Four, Baswood. Really, the tone alone warranted a frown, but no one in the carriage did anything.

Jircniv smiled wryly at his overly familiar but supremely capable subordinate. “It’s all that Fresh Blood Emperor’s fault. He pushed reforms through so fast that a lot of things are behind schedule. What an idiot. There should have been an easier way to go about it, maybe gathering more capable people beneath him beforehand. You guys should tell him off for me next time you see him. Oh, but make sure you have an alternate suggestion in mind.”

Now everyone in the carriage wore the same wry smile as Jircniv.

Originally, it was the nobles, especially court nobles, who performed administrative duties for the empire. That was because education was limited from childhood, for a variety of reasons including monetary, to members of the aristocracy. Of course, the privileged class also had a vested interest in maintaining that system.

But because Jircniv purged the nobility, there were fewer civil servants. The main concern was that, since he was carrying out reforms, the amount of work had actually increased. As a matter of course, the workload per person grew, and that was true for Jircniv, too.

The Fresh Blood Emperor had disposed of a great many inept aristocrats—hence the nickname—but it was only afterward that he realized even useless people had roles to perform.

Still, he had no regrets.

There was no other time to perform the purge. If he had waited for the perfect chance, command of the knights would have become splintered among the various great nobles, rendering his father’s death meaningless.

It was because of the purge that the empire had a future.

Women suffer to bear children. His heavy workload was his suffering to give birth to a new empire. If he overcame it, he would gain something precious.

By association, this line of thinking brought Jircniv’s own offspring to mind.

He wasn’t married, but he had children. Since he had no empress, they weren’t mistresses but rather women whose company he enjoyed, and they had produced babies. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel any love toward the children, but he hoped that one of them would be exceptional—because if the woman he made his empress in the future gave birth to someone who wasn’t capable, he could swap that child in.

“But keeping the emperor constantly busy isn’t the proper path our country should take. I want to cultivate civil servants and return as soon as possible to the emperor’s original role of giving general orders. And I don’t want to put my heir, the future emperor, through this kind of hardship. After all, I wouldn’t want him to blame me for burying him in work.”

The current empire hinged on the talents of one remarkable individual. No, perhaps it was more accurate to say that Jircniv had constructed a magnificent building using the scaffolding built by exceptional predecessors. But the next emperor and the emperor after that weren’t guaranteed to be so brilliant.

Though he didn’t say it aloud, Jircniv wanted to build the kind of empire that could function without issue as long as the ruler had some semblance of ability.

“That will be difficult. You’ve become an absolute ruler. I’m not sure you would be able to rule in the same way as previous emperors.”

“Vermilion. It’s
your
job to make it happen. It’s only natural I have final say. That’s what previous emperors hoped for and the result of the politics they practiced. But even if I have absolute power, it’s not right for me to micromanage. I mean, what would be the point of having civil servants, right? Did you leave your brain behind somewhere?”

“He definitely didn’t forget it at the Imperial Magic Academy, Your Majesty.” Fluder, the one in charge of the Ministry of Magic that managed the academy, chimed in to say they’d never turned out anyone so stupid.

“Ha-ha, yeah. You’re right about that, Gramps.” Jircniv cleared his throat and refocused the atmosphere. “As of my reign, the empire has regained its youth—it’s a baby. I’m destroying the old to let in the new. As you say, Vermilion, until the country matures somewhat, I’ve got my work cut out for me, but if it stays a child forever, that’s a problem. I need to come up with a plan so that when I set a general policy in the future, I can rest assured knowing the civil servants and military officers will reliably execute it.”

Countries that relied entirely on a single absolute individual were weak. Jircniv knew that.

Reaunet bowed his head in understanding, showing his hair, thinner than his age would imply.

“The next emperor…? Oh, right, are you planning to have a kid with her?”

He knew immediately which “her” Baswood meant. After all, Baswood held a high opinion of only one of his women.

Jircniv chose his companions based on their faces and their parents’ standing, but there was one case where he ignored all that. She had not been selected for her looks or her upbringing but for her brain, and she was the only one of his companions who he allowed to comment on politics—granted, not publicly but in bed.

Initially, he had no interest in sleeping with her. That had been her idea.

He would have been happy to make her his empress.

“No, she doesn’t want that. She even says stuff like, ‘Beauty is a treasure you’re born with, and it’s an essential asset for someone at the top. A poor brain can be compensated for with hard work and capable subordinates, but there’s nothing that can be done about looks.’”

“With your blood, the child’s looks should be guaranteed. Well, I admit that followers are happier to take orders from a dashing emperor.”

“So it really does work that way, huh?”

Jircniv wouldn’t know, since there was no one in a position higher than his. No matter how ugly someone was, if they were exceptionally capable, he would use them, and personally, he’d consider putting them in an important post.

“It’s certainly preferable to a toad on its back. Your Imperial Majesty, I’m sure you prefer the woman writhing on top of you to be beautiful, right?”

“Well, I suppose. I guess I sort of get it…but really?” He cocked his head; something didn’t quite make sense.

“I imagine you’re thinking where to get your empress from?”

Jircniv frowned at Fluder’s question.

“If it’s a choice between here or elsewhere, then I’d pick elsewhere. There’s no point in taking a wife from the empire at this point. It would have to be a foreign girl… I’m expected to go after that unfathomable one.”

Fluder stroked his beard. “Princess Renner?”

Jircniv winced as he nodded.

The third princess of the Re-Estize Kingdom, Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself…
Known as the “Golden Princess” for her famed beauty, she had nonetheless maintained her number one rank on Jircniv’s list of most hated women for several years running. On the other hand, someone he did like was the mayor Cabelia of Bebard, one of the city-state league’s leaders.

“I never have any idea what she’s thinking. When I hear what she’s been up to, I get the strange feeling she’s failing because that’s what she wants.”

There can’t really be a person like that.
That’s what he wanted to think, but Jircniv was well aware how complex and bizarre humans were. If she was aiming to fail, what was her reasoning? When he tried to analyze Renner’s thoughts, he got a horrible feeling like he was becoming more and more tangled in a spider’s web.

“…Won’t someone just assassinate that weirdo for me already?”

“If that’s an order, I can call on Ijaniya right away.”

Ijaniya was a gang of assassins, named after one of the Thirteen Heroes, that had been spotted in the eastern parts of the empire and around territory belonging to the city-states. Apparently, they worked in mysterious ways. The empire had been sounding them out to see if it could bring them under its wing but had yet to receive a favorable response.

“No, no. I need her to pass on her earth-shattering knowledge. It’s better for me to keep her alive than to plot her murder… Has that woman already figured that all out?”

“Could she have thought that far?”

Jircniv sighed a “Who knows?” considering that it was actually plausible.

A spy in the kingdom was relaying the things Renner said. Some of the plans she proposed impressed him. He knew they were great ideas because they worked well in the empire when he employed them.

It wouldn’t benefit the empire if anything bad happened to her.

Sometimes the timing of her proposals made it seem like she was reading the movements of the empire. But that would mean somehow she was observing the empire with no agents to act as her eyes or ears and cleverly maneuvering based on what she learned.

Jircniv wanted to win over even the captain of the Royal Select, Gazef, but Renner’s unfathomable nature made her unappealing.

“Well, if Renner died, the kingdom might not suffer much from the loss, but if Your Imperial Majesty died, our country would disintegrate. The Four can protect you from assassins, but we can’t do anything about other dangers, so please don’t work yourself too hard.”

“Of course. Until I establish a solid administrative organization in the empire, I have to stay alive no matter what.”

Losing the absolute leader of the administration at this juncture could mean the collapse of every step of progress he had accomplished so far.

Exactly how large would the empire grow in the future? Anyone with malicious intentions would surely do their best to eliminate the emperor as soon as they realized, especially if they were from a neighboring country like the kingdom or the Theocracy.

In fact, the reason the empire wanted control over Ijaniya was to deploy them as counter-assassins.

“Right. We can’t lose you now. We’re on guard against poison and physical danger because we always have a faith caster nearby, but the lack of someone truly skilled for the job is worrisome. I would have taught someone myself, but I’m not very skilled with faith magic.”

“Your talent is being a wizard. You can’t be an expert at everything. Oh yeah. We requested the Theocracy’s cooperation in recruiting someone but didn’t get a very good reply. What if we had the believers in the Four Gods and the minor deities compete to see who’s best? The empire could reward the shrine that achieves the best results.”

Competition would naturally lead to technological development. But Reaunet shook his head so hard in response to Jircniv’s suggestion that his hair became a mess, sticking to his forehead.

“That would be too dangerous. Each shrine in the empire exists by virtue of donations and the hard work that goes into developing products to sell, all using their own techniques. If the government was to pressure them or try to strike a deal, it would inevitably spark opposition.”

“I see… Well, then again, if we controlled the shrines, the empire would be more powerful. In that sense, the Theocracy has an enviable setup. It must have been accomplished hundreds of years ago, but I wish I knew how they managed to do that.”

“Faith magic is tied to the health of the masses, as well. In any case, I think it’s great how Your Highness takes anyone with magic ability, faith or otherwise, and bestows knighthood or an education upon them. If you only beat on monsters with swords, you end up with a lot more fatal wounds.” Baswood had experienced a close call on a monster extermination mission once in the past. He groaned before continuing, “Personally, I wish we had resurrection magic. Then we wouldn’t have to worry so much even if one of our best died. Is it true, though, that resurrection spells sap life force and render normal people into ashes?”

Hearing this, Fluder leaned forward.

Whether it was because he was in charge of the emperor’s education or because he loved to talk about magic, he tended to join conversations at times like these, his eyes glittering. The problem was that he had a tendency to drone on forever—Jircniv made a bored face in a way that only Baswood and Reaunet could notice.

“It is. The tier-five faith spell Raise Dead depletes a large amount of life force. Supposedly at higher tiers, less vitality is required, but…it’s believed no one can use such an advanced spell. I’ve heard that ancient magic of the dragonlords can bring someone back without loss of life force—”

“So can the queen of the Dragon Kingdom do that?”

“Good question, Vermilion. It’s said that she can use ancient magic, also known by other names such as primeval magic or spirit magic, since it’s public knowledge that she has blood of the Brightness Dragonlord in her. But whether or not she can perform resurrections is a mystery. The structure of primeval magic is completely different from today’s techniques, so there’s no way for those of us who can only use modern magic to know.”

When Fluder finished speaking, he glanced at Jircniv. Concerned his annoyed face had been noticed, Jircniv panicked for a moment but relaxed when he heard Fluder’s next words…

“I’d really like to do some research on ancient magic… If someone with the blood of the Brightness Dragonlord can use it, then lineage is clearly an important factor. If you take an empress, I think you should choose someone close to that queen…”

“Give me a break, Gramps. I have no interest in that old piece of mutton trying to pass as a lamb.”

He was absolutely not marrying his second-most-hated woman. And although he didn’t have any love for his children, he wasn’t so cruel as to consign them to a life as guinea pigs.

Although, when weighed against the benefits the country would reap…

Just then, there was a knock on the carriage door.

For defense against detection by intelligence magic and physical attacks, the carriage was metal plated. Consequently, it had no windows. Baswood opened the door slightly to take a look outside—or more accurately, to check who was knocking.

As long as they were surrounded by knights, it had to be an ally, but it never hurt to be cautious.

“Your Imperial Majesty, it’s Leinas.”

“Open the door.”

When the door opened, in blew fresh air off the plain, causing the hair of the humans inside to stir slightly. Given the season, the wind should have been cold, but the air that entered the carriage was a warm, comfortable temperature. It went without saying that it was due to magic.

The one riding alongside the carriage was the woman who had been at the head of the line earlier.

“Excuse me, Your Imperial Majesty. I—”

It was hard to hear her over the wind.

“We can’t talk like this. Get in. Forget the conventions.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Then allow me to join you.”

With that, she nimbly leaped off her horse and landed in the doorway of the carriage as it continued rolling along. She acted as if this was nothing special, but considering how she was clad in plate armor and her horse was moving at a full gallop, her athleticism was readily apparent. That was only natural. She was one of the Four—Heavy Bomber Leinas Rockbruise.

Once she was inside the carriage, she quietly shut the door and took a seat next to Baswood. As the door closed, they could see that one of the guards outside, running alongside the carriage, had taken the reins of her horse.

The spell cast on the carriage merely maintained a comfortably warm air temperature, which meant it had no effect on coming into direct contact with something cold; Leinas’s metal armor had been subjected to the frigid air outside. When that chilly lump settled down next to Baswood, he shivered.

“We received a Message from a scout who’s up ahead.”

One of the defensive spells cast on the carriage shielded it from intelligence magic. This helped keep them concealed, but one issue was that spells like Message were also blocked. Therefore, it had been decided that the head guard, Leinas, would receive and convey any incoming Messages.

“The vanguard has reached the Great Tomb of Nazarick. They were welcomed upon telling the maids at the log cabin what time you would arrive.”

“Maids? I thought it was a subterranean tomb… Maids? Maids, huh…? Is it that thing where…? Like, I heard in some countries maids were buried with the king to continue serving him after death. Is that it? Or did dark elves who left the forest move into the tomb?”

“Unfortunately, the Message didn’t go into that much detail, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“…I just don’t get it. The forest isn’t part of the human realm, so there’s no known history, but… Well, I want to believe they won’t act like those monsters who visited the imperial palace, but tell our troops to stay on their toes.”

“It’s just as you say, Your Imperial Majesty. Considering the power of those messengers, we may be heading into an unknown world. Please exercise caution. If anything happens, please come for me directly.”

“You mean run away using Teleportation if it comes to that?”

Fluder’s smile was affirmative.

“We’ll buy you the time you need. No matter how many opponents there are, we’ll make sure Your Imperial Majesty has enough time to escape.”

Baswood grinned, but Leinas didn’t say anything. It was less tacit agreement and more silent disapproval, but no one said anything.

For starters, she was one of the Four, but she hadn’t sworn allegiance to Jircniv. Serving Jircniv merely benefited her as well; if someone who could better grant her wishes appeared, she would immediately abandon her current position.

In other words, Leinas was his least loyal knight.

Since the Four had been selected on strength alone, personality and devotion weren’t considered significant factors, but it was true that no one was less dedicated than her.

The reason he had brought her along to command his guards despite that was because he needed to leave Storm Wind Nimble Arc Dale Anoch behind, meaning he had no choice. If Unshakable were still around, he probably would have been here instead of Heavy Bomber.

“Excuse me one moment.” Leinas took a handkerchief out of her pocket and brought it to the right side of her face. The thing that looked like a golden cloth covering half her face was actually her hairstyle; she wiped beneath it.

When she finished, the handkerchief had been stained yellow—it was soaked with pus.

“I’m going to put myself first, so I’m sorry, but please forgive me.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. That’s what I promised when I had you become one of the Four—or rather, it’s the deal we made.”

“I see. That’s what you’ll all be doing, then? In that case, I’ll just curl into a little ball somewhere and stay out of your way,” Reaunet declared in all seriousness, trying to change the mood. He got a laugh.

“So at our current speed, how many more hours until we reach Nazarick?”

In response to Jircniv’s question, Reaunet took a watch out of his pocket and checked the time. Then he looked at Leinas and waited for her to nod before speaking. “Everything is going according to plan, so we should be there in about an hour.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m looking forward to it. Shall we see what this Ainz Ooal Gown is really like?”

2

Jircniv’s carriage slowed and came to a halt. Still, he couldn’t disembark immediately. It was a bother, but a certain degree of preparation was necessary to maintain the proper decorum.

Normally that would be the responsibility of his servants. Perhaps it would have been better to wait for the other carriage carrying the maids, but they didn’t have that kind of time. After all, Jircniv had come to apologize. It wouldn’t be very smart to keep the messengers waiting.

After straightening his clothes, Jircniv donned his cape. It was an extremely valuable item made from the pelt of a magical beast imbued with defensive magic. Once he put that on, no matter how cold it was outside, he wouldn’t feel a thing.

After securing his scepter on his hip, the bare minimum of preparations was complete.

Jircniv examined himself once more to make sure his appearance wouldn’t be embarrassing.

He was about to engage in verbal warfare with Ainz Ooal Gown. The word
embarrassing
wouldn’t cut it if there were any blemishes in what was essentially his combat gear. Jircniv would have loved it if his opponent underestimated him due to poor observation, but he couldn’t allow it to happen because his clothes were shabby.

Then, right as Jircniv nodded in satisfaction, a knock sounded as if on cue.

“All right, Your Imperial Majesty. I’ll exit first.”

“Thanks.”

Following the brief exchange, Baswood reached for the door.

He opened it grandly, in a manner worthy of the carriage transporting the empire’s supreme ruler. Just in case, Reaunet shielded Jircniv, putting his body squarely in the opening.

Beyond Baswood, Jircniv caught a glimpse of their surroundings.

The first thing that registered was the grass. Then he noticed the guards lined up facing one another. Farther back, he could see a swelling in the ground like a hill, along with a massive barred gate that seemed to be partially buried underground.

So is that the entrance to the Great Tomb of Nazarick? This is different from what I heard…but I guess it’s within an acceptable margin of error.

Following Baswood, who lined up with the rest of the guards, Jircniv exited the carriage.

He took a deep breath. Although the fresh air flowing into his lungs must have been cold, Jircniv, protected by his magic garments, felt only the pleasantness of the optimal warmth.

With a heavy exhale, he turned to look at his subordinates.

Fluder’s leading disciples with their robes and staves…

Faith casters attached to the knight order, their sigils around their necks…

The guards standing at attention, among them the scouts who had arrived in advance…

Personally, he wanted to know what kind of people they met, but given the current circumstances, that wasn’t an option.

The maids and the contents of one other carriage weren’t outside yet.

Well, they
are
gifts, so that makes sense. Okay, so the log cabin place must be inside the gate…? Oh wait, it must be that, I guess.

When he looked to the left, he spotted a single-story log cabin. It appeared so out of place compared to the grass and the graves that he couldn’t help but grin awkwardly. Where did the wood to build it come from in the first place? He could see the Azerlisia Mountains off in the distance and remembered the Tove Woodlands extending around them.

Did they haul it all the way out here? I don’t know how great the distance is, but it must have been a lot of work.

It wasn’t as if Jircniv knew very much about log cabins, but it didn’t seem like a terribly magnificent building. That said, considering the surroundings, perhaps the fact that a building existed at all was impressive.

…That front door is awfully huge. Is it a double door? And why is it so tall? It practically goes up three stories. Did this used to be a storehouse or something?

As Jircniv gazed at the log cabin, Baswood and Leinas lined up to his right and Reaunet and Fluder across from them.

“Your Imperial Majesty, shall we bring the others out of their carriages?”

Reaunet had leaned in to ask, but Jircniv answered without looking. “No. We don’t need them yet. More importantly—”

Jircniv’s answer didn’t cut off because the log cabin door opened. It was because two gorgeous women came out.

They wore orthodox maid uniforms. The outfits seemed well made, but he didn’t think much else about them. The women’s almost abnormally symmetrical features, though, surprised even Jircniv, who had met a fair number of beautiful princesses. The sight of the creatures gripped his heart.

How incredibly…lovely. But…

The pair was extremely good-looking; if they had been the daughters of a noble in the empire, he would have showered them with his highest praises. He might have even considered them for a spot within his inner palace. But this was a tomb in the middle of a plain. Their presence here made no sense and gave him the intense feeling that something was wrong.

He heard someone quietly suck their teeth on his right, but he didn’t have time to pay attention to that now.

“Hey, Gramps, are they an illusion by any chance?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, but they don’t seem to be.”

“Then are they human? It seems obvious they’re not dark elves, but…”

“Hmm, I’m not sure about that, either…but they probably aren’t human.”

Hearing that made Jircniv feel a bit better. If they weren’t human, it wasn’t nearly as strange for them to be in this place.

The answer made sense; he could accept it without issue.

The two maids bowed, and the one with her hair up spoke.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Your Imperial Majesty, Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix. I’ve been entrusted with welcoming you all. My name is Yuri Alpha. And the one behind me is here as my assistant. Her name is Lupusregina Beta. We’ll only accompany you for a short while, but I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Having been given some time to get over his shock, Jircniv had enough presence of mind to at least reply. “I appreciate the courteous introduction. I heartily thank Sir Ainz Ooal Gown for sending such beautiful ladies to greet us. And there’s no need for you to use my formal titles. Here, I am simply another person, so feel free to be friendlier and call me Jir. No, I insist.” He directed an affable smile at Yuri.

Even though any woman would normally be moved by Jircniv’s face, Yuri’s stony expression remained unbroken. He had been paying close attention to her eyes to see how she would react, but he did not notice even the slightest ripple.

Was he not her type? Or was she one of those girls who didn’t mix business and pleasure? Maybe it was because she was currently busy serving her master?

I can’t get a read on her. I wanted to at least make a somewhat good impression, but I guess it’ll be tough. I’m pretty confident I make good company for a woman, though… Oh, if what Gramps said is true, then maybe she’s not human. Then perhaps to a woman of a different species, I’m… But what race is she? From the looks of her, it’d be a close relative of humans, but…

He had no idea what her true identity was.

But between those two dark elves and these two maids, Ainz Ooal Gown must be a sucker for looks. In that case, anyone who doesn’t surpass these two is worthless…

Jircniv thought of the women waiting in the other carriage.

They were the daughters of nobles, all beautiful enough that Jircniv could boast, and he had brought them along to present to Ainz Ooal Gown as a gift. The girls knew what would happen to their families if they disobeyed his orders, so after a tearful farewell, they had come here prepared, but…

I guess it was pointless. But maybe they’ll be happy to hear that he won’t need them, since he has more beautiful companions already. Or maybe they’ll have mixed feelings about that, as women? Maybe I should have looked for some elves to serve as a gift instead…

He knew there were elf slaves in the empire, but the reason he didn’t seek them out was because he didn’t have enough time, and also because he planned to use them in future dealmaking—not with Ainz Ooal Gown but with Mare in secret negotiations.

If he could strip that timid little girl bare and find out what made her tick, he suspected he could get her to do his bidding.

In exchange for liberating enslaved members of a closely related race, I could ask her to do me simple favors behind Gown’s back. Then I could threaten her with the fact that she has been keeping secrets from her master and get her to carry out minor requests. After that, I’d just keep increasing my grip on her. That was my plan, but…

As Jircniv was reviewing his unhatched chickens, Yuri addressed him.

“You jest. Our master, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown, ordered us to extend the highest courtesies to Your Imperial Majesty, so please forgive me if I let your kindness go to waste.”

“Is that right? Well, that’s too bad,” Jircniv joked with a shrug of his shoulders. “But whenever you like is fine. Speaking of Sir Gown, where is he?”

“He’s currently getting ready to meet you. Please wait here a little longer.”

“I see. Where can we wait? In the log cabin?”

“No, here, please.”

Jircniv looked up at the sky. It didn’t seem like it was going to rain, but the sky was covered in dark clouds—it definitely couldn’t be called good weather. Moreover, though Jircniv himself couldn’t feel the cold, it was still winter.

What would she have to be thinking to make guests wait outside? She was probably trying to send a message about who was superior.

Jircniv had already been relegated to the lower position when he had been summoned to Gown’s residence to apologize. With this follow-up blow, it seemed Gown was quite devious.

“I see.” He narrowed his eyes. “Understood. Then I’ll return to my carriage and wait there.”

Jircniv sensed indignation well up in the eyes of several guards. They must have thought it was rude to keep an emperor waiting, even if this was a neighboring country and the territory of a potentially hostile force.

But no one said a word. If their master accepted it, it wasn’t their place to object. Or…

Is it because they know what kinds of atrocities those dark elves are capable of? If that’s the case, I’ll have to keep my wits about me when dealing with Gown. They drove a wedge between us in a single blow. Even if that was some kind of once-in-a-lifetime power, who would be able to tell us that? The fact that they’re just children is also huge. It makes a strong impression when kids can cause so much damage.

“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. Granted, 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 spent 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.”

“It goes down so smoothly and doesn’t leave any cloying sweetness in the mouth.”

Listening to the comments around him, Jircniv took another drink. He suddenly felt energy welling up inside him.

Is my body stimulated because the drink tastes so good? So Nazarick has extremely high-class drinks, as well. I guess I was inadvertently rude to those dark elves. If this is the kind of thing they drink every day, they must have thought what we served them was disgusting.

Jircniv smiled wryly.

Who knew a single drink could make one feel so defeated?

Ahh, my mind is at peace. Yes, I feel peaceful for the first time since coming here. Maybe I could just…go home now.

How long did he stay out of the sun listening to the sound of the wind rushing across the spring meadow? Eventually Yuri spoke the words Jircniv had been dreading.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. Lord Ainz is ready now. Right this way.”

3

Jircniv arrived at a large dome-shaped room, and before him was a massive door. There were strangely elaborate carvings of a goddess on the right and a demon on the left. Looking around, he saw countless sinister-looking statues.

If I had to give it a name, maybe the Gate of Judgment?

Those were Jircniv’s thoughts as he stood gazing at it.

Silence dominated the room to the point that the quiet itself seemed audible.

Perhaps it was more that no one who had been brought that far had uttered a word. The only sound was the occasional metal on metal of someone moving in their armor.

It was less restraining themselves to observe good manners and more that the luxurious scenery they had passed through on their way had left them stunned.

Faced with this mythological realm, asking them to hold in their astonishment was too much.

Even Jircniv found himself unable to suppress the urge to glance here and there as they walked. Their surroundings were just that amazing.

He looked over his shoulder at the subordinates who had accompanied him this far: Baswood, ten select guards, Fluder and his disciples, his secretary Reaunet, and the priests of the knight order. Leinas and the other guards were keeping watch over the carriages.

All those behind him, with the exception of Fluder, apparently felt unworthy. They sensed keenly how small and insignificant they were—the result of walking down a hallway that the empire couldn’t replicate even if they exhausted all its cultural arts.

The Great Tomb of Nazarick, a tomb in name only, was a gorgeous world, a residence fit for the gods. Their impression of the caster who ruled over it, Ainz Ooal Gown, had become so colossal that it could hardly be described.

Jircniv wore a borderline self-deprecating smile. People have an instinct to bow their heads before anything superior to them. If there was anyone who was unmoved by this exceedingly grand building and its furnishings, surely they possessed a heart of stone.

…This is a real problem.

Ainz Ooal Gown, awaiting him beyond that door, surpassed Fluder as a caster and was probably unrivaled in all of history. The grandeur of his home surpassed human imagination, and his followers were immensely powerful. In other words, he was a being who encapsulated every manner of might.

Why has he been keeping himself cooped up until now?
Jircniv didn’t know the answer but figured he would soon find out.

With the coming talks, he should be able to grasp at least some of the caster’s aims.

He wouldn’t make all these power plays only to ask for my apology, then send me home, right?

At first, his plan had been to investigate Ainz Ooal Gown’s desires and find a way to manipulate them to the empire’s advantage. The apology was no more than an excuse to meet.

But…

What could possibly motivate someone with so much power? Nothing I can offer would be enough.

There was a good chance that, just as a single-carat gem wouldn’t be enough to arouse Jircniv’s interest, anything Jircniv could offer wouldn’t inspire any desires in Ainz Ooal Gown.

For starters, money was out of the question.

As for military might and magic technology, there was no way Ainz Ooal Gown would be interested when the empire’s strength and development were so inferior to his own.

Enticing him with companionship would also be pointless, considering the presence of Yuri and the others.

So what does he want?

Jircniv had no idea. Maybe desire as humans experienced it wasn’t enough to move Ainz Ooal Gown.

He thought of countless ways of handling his adversary—then concluded that nothing could be done.

He figured the smartest course of action was to make sure things didn’t become hostile.

Victory this time means shielding the empire from harm and us making it home alive…

“…This might be difficult.” With those thoughts on his mind, his voice echoed louder than he intended it to. But no one reacted. That’s how transfixed they were by the world around them.

“The Throne Room is through here. That is where Lord Ainz is waiting for you.”

Yuri bowed toward Jircniv and the others, indicating that her work was done.

As if her words were the cue, the massive door slowly swung open despite no one touching it.

Someone gasped. No, not one person or even two. Probably more than ten. Most of the people with him. That they were shaken was proof they weren’t prepared; it was a manifestation of their desire to flee. It meant that many of them had been hoping the door wouldn’t open.

I guess I should be thankful it opened automatically.
If he had had to wait for everyone to steel themselves, they may never have opened the door.

The room that came into view was huge and the ceiling high. The walls were primarily white with ornamentation done mainly in gold.

The magnificent chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were made of jewels in a rainbow of colors and cast a dreamy sparkling light. On the walls, hanging from the ceiling to the floor, were large flags.

It was a perfect realization of the idea of a throne room. Jircniv couldn’t think of a name more fitting.

Then he and all those in his entourage went pale at the presence that rushed out at them.

There was a red carpet running down the center of the room. Along either side stood beings whose power was so great there were no words.

A demon, a dragon, a strange humanoid creature, an armored knight, an insect on two legs, a spirit—they came in all shapes and sizes, but the thing they all shared was next-level strength. They were lined up along the sides of the carpet. Jircniv couldn’t bring himself to count them.

All of them stared at him in silence. It was said that people of a certain class and authority had powerful eyes, but this was the first time Jircniv had felt physical pressure from a gaze.

From behind him he heard a hoarse shriek and rattling metal—signs that his subordinates were afraid.

But let’s be honest.

Jircniv didn’t feel like scolding them for making their fear known; on the contrary, he very much wanted to praise their self-control, since none of them had run away. No one had fled from this being who struck instinctive fear into humans.

Jircniv bumped his alert level up another ten notches. His guard was higher than ever, because he realized even that was an underestimation.

He had come to the conclusion that Ainz Ooal Gown was a danger to the continued existence of not only the empire but of entire races—not only humans but subhumans as well.

Jircniv looked to the end of the carpet.

Off in the distance were some stairs with several people standing around them. He guessed they were aides of some sort. A beautiful girl with silver hair. A pale-blue monster like an upright insect. A man in a suit who seemed half-human, half-frog. There were also two dark elves, the sight of which put Jircniv slightly more at ease. If the two who had instantaneously killed so many of his men were mere grunts, he probably would have lost his mind.

Shifting his line of sight to the top of the stairs, he saw a gorgeous woman with wings and beyond her…

“So that’s…”

Seated on a throne made of crystal, holding a curious staff, was a horrifying embodiment of death.

A monster with its bone head exposed.

It was as if darkness had focused on a single point and coalesced into this being.

That’s—that’s Ainz Ooal Gown.

On his head was a splendid crown-like object, and he wore a luxurious raven-black robe. Numerous rings gleamed on his fingers. Even at a distance, Jircniv could tell the brilliantly made accessories this creature adorned himself with would be impossible for any artisan in the empire to make.

Flames the color of spilled blood lit the vacant orbits of Ainz Ooal Gown’s skeletal head. Jircniv felt those flames licking over him and the others.

He wasn’t at all surprised Gown wasn’t human. On the contrary, he was glad.

Since Ainz Ooal Gown was an inhuman monster, it was easier to accept his transcendent abilities.

“Phew,” Jircniv exhaled lightly.

It was an exhalation of determination.

Not much time had passed since the door opened. It probably was still acceptable to not have spoken yet, but he couldn’t just stand dumbstruck at the entrance forever. So…he stepped forward.

“Let’s go,” Jircniv said in a low voice that only his subordinates behind him could hear. Anyone who was looking probably would have been surprised to hear the words, since his mouth hadn’t moved. It wasn’t magic, just something he’d learned to do. Of course, at times like these it was a precious skill.

But he didn’t sense anyone moving in response.

Standing before Ainz Ooal Gown meant walking past all the grotesques lining the carpet. Even if they knew they weren’t going to be attacked, it would take courage to walk past so many.

It wasn’t simple optimism that convinced Jircniv they wouldn’t be attacked.

It was a well-known truth if a throne room was being used, it was usually for something ceremonial, to demonstrate a nation’s authority.

In other words, choosing this location meant his aim was to impress Nazarick’s power upon them; he wouldn’t kill them here. If he wanted to slaughter them, he would have taken them to a slaughterhouse.

His subordinates should have understood that, too. Yet they still couldn’t step forward. More than anything, their instincts were probably forbidding them to go any closer.

Beyond the grotesques were the aides. The power within them was enough to break any scale of levels.

Then on the throne, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Jircniv finally realized—that Gown must be what they called a god.

Even with the mental defense item Jircniv had equipped, the pressure he felt was extraordinary. If he wasn’t careful, the man known as the Fresh Blood Emperor would end up on his knees.

But that was precisely why he had to press on.

Just as Jircniv was observing Ainz Ooal Gown, Gown was observing him. If the emperor failed to make an impression here, what would happen to his country? He had to at least get Gown to recognize some measure of his worth, then connect that to the continued existence of the empire.

Jircniv smiled wryly.

Verbal warfare? Ha.

This is the very definition of regret. Anything I do now is meaningless. I should probably just try to minimize the damage.

“Let’s go!” Jircniv ordered forcefully. It was for those behind him but also to steel his own body and soul. He sensed them following him.

The carpet was soft. Considering how he was feeling, it was altogether too fluffy. Shrugging off the countless ghastly presences surrounding him, he walked forward focusing only on Ainz Ooal Gown. His instincts told him that if he took his eyes off his objective, his feet would stop moving.

It wasn’t as if Jircniv was a brilliant warrior. He was able to lead the way, even though his guards were frightened, because of the mental strength being emperor had fostered.

Soon he reached the base of the stairs, where the aides were standing.

“Lord Ainz, the Baharuth emperor, Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, is requesting an audience.”

The winged woman attending the crystal throne had a lovely voice that suited her beauty. Jircniv noticed that detail in spite of himself.

The being who seemed like a representation of death, created by the gods themselves, spoke in reply. “Good of you to come, Emperor of Baharuth. I am the master of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Ainz Ooal Gown.”

It was a more normal—humanlike—voice than Jircniv had expected. He relaxed ever so slightly.

He had a chance at reading the emotions contained in those words.

“I heartily thank you for your welcome, Sir Ainz Ooal Gown.”

Since his face was a skull, his expression was a total mystery to Jircniv. He wondered what would be a proper way to begin.

The one who broke that silence was neither Jircniv nor Ainz.

“Lord Ainz. I feel it is disrespectful for a mere human to attempt to speak to you as equals.” Then the man said, “
Bow down
.
”

A chorus of metallic clanks sounded behind Jircniv. He could imagine what had happened without looking. His attendants had probably yielded to the man’s command and bowed down. Perhaps they were desperately trying to stand? He could hear groaning.

They had probably been compelled by a powerful psychic attack.

Without the necklace that Jircniv never took off, he would have been groveling, too.

Countless eyes moved to the emperor, the sole visitor remaining standing. They were the cold eyes of someone observing an animal during an experiment.

“Cut it out, Demiurge.”

“Yes, my lord!” The somewhat frog-like monster, Demiurge, bowed reverently to his master. “
You are released.
”

With the invisible pressure lifted, Jircniv could hear sighs of relief behind him.

“…Sir Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix. You’ve come so far, but then my subordinate did something so impolite. I hope you’ll forgive me for not properly keeping him in check. If you so wish it, I will even bow my head to you.”

A disturbance rippled through the crowd of monsters.

Multiple emotions clashed inside Jircniv.

His feelings of caution stemmed from the realization that Ainz Ooal Gown wasn’t the type to operate through power alone.

His relief stemmed from the same.

Above all, however, he felt fear—stemming from the knowledge that Ainz Ooal Gown had a firm grip over the minds of every monster present.

At the same time, he had a bad feeling that everything was going according to Ainz’s plan, a strange feeling that everything had been arranged ahead of time.

“No need to apologize, Sir Gown. Subordinates often misunderstand their master’s intentions and act recklessly. It seems some people in the empire have been doing the same, I’m ashamed to say.”

One of the guards who had been freed suddenly rushed forward with an urn and placed it next to Jircniv. Really, he was supposed to act immediately, but he had hesitated.

Did Gown’s subordinate act in order to get me to do this? If so, then I may need to veer off the prepared route… No, I can’t. That would be the same as bringing a real sword to a sparring demonstration. If I go against the flow, I’ll get seriously injured… This is bad.

“I’m not sure if I should call this place a tomb or not, but…this is the head of the foolish noble who unilaterally sent raiders into your tomb… I’d like you to accept it.”

Inside the urn was Count Vemeer’s head. He was the noble Jircniv had indirectly instructed to dispatch the workers.

The reason he kept around aristocrats who had neither pros nor cons was to use them in situations like this.

Dead men told no tales. Jircniv wasn’t sure how much Ainz Ooal Gown knew, but he figured it was better to put a lid on anything that stank.

The reason Nazarick’s messengers came could very well have been a threat to force the master of the empire to take responsibility for the workers setting foot in Ainz’s palace. Which was why Jircniv would escape the situation by insisting he knew absolutely nothing.

The beautiful woman next to Ainz made a subtle gesture with her jaw, and Demiurge carried the urn up the steps.

Then he knelt before Ainz and took out the severed head.

Ainz took the head.

“I accept it. I wonder what I should do with this. It would be a waste to simply toss it.”

Hmm? Oh, he must be joking. I see. He must know that Vemeer was being manipulated. The important question is where he got that information…

Suddenly, the count’s head moved in the skeletal hand.

At first, he thought Ainz had moved it, but he soon understood he was mistaken. A thick liquid coated the head, which then dropped out of Ainz’s hand onto the floor.

That development was so shocking that Jircniv’s eyes stayed glued to the head, and as he watched, a fountain of goopy black liquid sprayed onto the floor.

When the liquid finished raining down, what was standing there was a large suit of black armor.

A death knight.

Strangled gasps rose from behind Jircniv.

“Th-that’s absurd!”

Yuri had certainly meant it literally when she said he “created” them. Jircniv willed himself to not bite his lower lip. He couldn’t bear doing something so pathetic.

“Go. Get in line.”

Following an order that seemed to resonate from the pit of the earth, the death knight descended the stairs and disappeared out of Jircniv’s view.

How many more death knights can he create? Can he create as many as he wants if he has enough human corpses? That can’t be! But if he can do this…then can he create an undead more powerful than a death knight? He might actually…be able…

“Now then, Sir Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix.”

Hearing that quiet voice, Jircniv came back to his senses and turned to Ainz with a pleasant face.

“Oh, Sir Gown. You can call me Jircniv. My name is so long.”

“Oh? Then I’ll do that, Sir Jircniv. First of all, I’m sorry you had to see that. Well, my subordinate’s rudeness earlier has canceled out the trouble the noble caused to Nazarick, so we have nothing more to discuss. I realize you took the time to come all this way, but you may go now.”

“Huh?” He didn’t understand what he had just been told. “S-sorry. I don’t think I heard you properly. Do you mind saying that again?”

“An apology is no longer necessary. You may go. I’m going to be a bit busy now anyway.” Ainz waggishly shrugged.

Jircniv had no idea what was going on.

Didn’t he have some other reason for summoning them in addition to making them apologize? Then wasn’t it strange of him to forgive them so simply?

His conduct was too inconsistent.

Wait! What did he say?

“Excuse me, but what do you mean you’ll be busy?”

“Thanks to you, I learned that even if I live here minding my own business, there will be trouble. So I figure I’ll go aboveground and crush the trouble before it comes to me.”

“Wh-what does that mean?”

“First, those who have harmed us will pay. Then the annoying ones. Everyone who needs to be dealt with until my beloved tranquility returns.”

The babbling of a maniac.

No. He wasn’t insane. Considering Ainz Ooal Gown’s ability, military power, and fortune, it wasn’t mere rambling. Jircniv simply hadn’t been able to accept it because the sphere of his common sense was so limited.

Ainz Ooal Gown was capable of those things.

Jircniv’s skin crawled, the sensation working its way up from his toes—

The Great Tomb of Nazarick…

—because a monster who had been holed up in a quiet place had decided to throw open his gates and stalk across the land.

Is that why he called me here? To declare war?! What’s the best course of action? He’s basically saying that he’ll be an enemy to the empire in the future. Should I submit to him now?

He honestly began to think that was the wisest decision.

But he didn’t think a country under the rule of a monster could be very happy. If he wasn’t careful, all the empire’s people would be turned into death knights. That was surely a fate worse than simply dying.

Jircniv thought harder than he had ever before. Really, he would have liked to take the issue home and discuss it with dozens of wise men before charting a policy. But that would take too long. Instead, he refreshed his smile and spoke.

“How about it? Would you like to form an alliance?”

“Don’t you mean you wish to submi—? Urgh!”

A bell-like tone had sounded and then a creaking noise. The silver-haired girl grimaced slightly while the close-by Aura seemed irked.

Jircniv’s vision wasn’t good enough to catch what had happened, but apparently Aura had kicked the silver-haired girl.

“…You’re always—”

“Enough. Silence.”

Ainz waved his hand with the majesty of a demon lord.

The motion indicated that it had been acquired as the result of living a long time as a ruler.

Jircniv was more alarmed than ever.

I guess he’s been a ruler in this land for quite some time… That would explain why his demeanor is so impressive…

The two girls’ voices overlapped as they expressed their regret for their foolishness.

The arrogance that Aura displayed when she came to his palace was nowhere to be found. Having seen once again what a tight rein Ainz kept on his followers, Jircniv steeled his resolve and forged ahead.

This is it.

He licked his dry lips.

Jircniv readied the plan that seemed the best out of all those he had thought up in this short time.

“You will turn this land into your country and rule it as king. I think it’s a splendid idea and a fitting position for you, Sir Gown. And we in the empire would like to back you as much as we can and help you build your nation. What do you say?”

Ainz’s fleshless, skinless face didn’t move at all. But Jircniv had the feeling the flames in his eyes burned brighter.

“…Sir Jircniv. I don’t see anything in that for you, but…?”

It was an utterly natural and therefore anticipated question. So Jircniv did his very best act in reply. “I hope for the empire to maintain a friendly relationship with the country you will rule. I’m looking ahead, you see.”

“Aha. Then that sounds good.”

Jircniv was shocked to receive such nonchalant agreement. It was like his blow had been dodged. He never imagined the discussion would go so smoothly.

For one thing…

Why doesn’t he demand our subordination? Why does he just accept my proposal when he holds such absolute power while occupying an overwhelmingly superior position?

Jircniv had been considering an innumerable number of potential steps he could take if that demand were to come. But he hadn’t anticipated the reply he actually got.

What is he after?

Jircniv couldn’t read Ainz Ooal Gown.

When fighting a powerful adversary, the weaker party’s strategy naturally becomes a search for a way to undermine the stronger one. It could also be called the technique of using an opponent’s arrogance against them. But if the opponent wasn’t proud, that method was useless. The weakling’s only means of fighting lost all meaning.

Ainz was precisely that type of person. He did nothing that resembled a strong man’s arrogance.

No…

This must all be part of his plan, too. It’s definitely plausible. His reply came so fast. I must be taking the actions he had in mind, then.

It hit him that the horror of Ainz lay not only in the power he possessed but also in his wisdom.

“O-oh. Great. Th-then if there’s something you wish of us right away, would you let me know?”

“I can’t think of anything at the moment. But I would like to establish a way to contact you, perhaps by leaving a representative somewhere with you.”

If this was all according to Ainz’s plan, there was no way he didn’t have anything in mind. So was it just a coincidence?

Well, no, that in itself could be a bluff. Maybe he thought if he jumped at it, his intentions would be an open book. This monster’s got a head on his shoulders. No—it’s because he’s a monster that he has an extraordinary mind.

“Aah, that’s a good idea. I’m quite stupid for not thinking of that myself. I’d expect nothing less of you, Sir Gown.”

“…Mm.”

He’s not into flattery, then.
Hearing the indifferent response, Jircniv made a mental note.

“All right, I shall be taking my leave, but I’ll have my secretary stay here. Could I have you work out the details with him…? Reaunet Vermilion!”

“Sir! I shall pour my entire being into this work!”

Jircniv couldn’t see Reaunet’s expression, since he was in front of him, but he could sense the resolve in his voice. This meeting could determine the fate of the empire. If it wasn’t imperative to return to the empire at once and form an Ainz Ooal Gown task force, he would have liked to stay himself.

“That’s a good answer. I can sense how loyal you are to your emperor. For my part, I’ll have Demiurge do the talking. He was impertinent earlier, but you’ve forgiven that, so I’ll leave the details up to him.”

After silently sizing up the bowing frog-faced monster in the corner of his vision, Jircniv had a hunch he was going to lose one of his brilliant subordinates. As such, he had to work extremely hard not to let his eyes blaze in hatred as he gazed at Ainz Ooal Gown.

So he’s already made his first move!

The frog monster, Demiurge, could manipulate people with his voice. He would definitely use that to turn Reaunet into a puppet.
So he wants to extract sensitive imperial intelligence?

This isn’t how you deal with an ally. But it’s awfully sly of him to tell us his plan. Demiurge…doesn’t seem terribly smart. Is he having him do this mentally demanding work so he can make excuses when his subordinate takes matters into his own hands and spies on the empire? Ainz Ooal Gown is one surprise after another, the bastard!

Stringing together curses in his head, he was still impressed.

Ainz had probably arranged for that slipup earlier so Jircniv wouldn’t be able to say he didn’t see that sort of thing coming. If Jircniv had an issue with this setup, he needed to say so now. If he let this chance go by, it was possible he would be accused of giving tacit permission.

He moved to speak, but Ainz was faster.

“Demiurge is my trusted aide. If the two of them talk, I’m sure it will go well.”

“Oh, good.” Jircniv forced himself to smile.

He had never met someone who so fully embodied the phrase
never misses a chance
. The statement had carried such weight, there was nothing else Jircniv could say in response.

But he saw how naive he was when Ainz continued.

“Now then, unlike before, you’re an ally, Jircniv. I couldn’t bear to just send you off like this. You’ve come all this way, so how would you like to spend the night? I’ll take good care of you!”

He wants to trap all of us, not just Reaunet?!

Or maybe he had something even worse in store. There had to be some reason he was suggesting they stay over. The knowing smile hideously warping Demiurge’s face felt like utter disaster.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ve got a lot of preparations to make, so I must get back.”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Then would you like me—or rather, one of my servants—to give you a lift?”

The thought of himself riding a dragon made him a bit curious about Ainz’s offer, but he cleared it from his mind. There was no way it would end with just that, and he didn’t want to be creating debts, either.

“I thank you for your kind offer, but we did come by carriage. I think we’ll stick with that.”

“A headless undead horse could drive you without rest…”

“…I’m touched, but no thanks.”

“If you say so.”

Was the hint of disappointment he heard an act? Or was it genuine? Jircniv couldn’t tell. Of course, there was a good possibility it was an act.

In any case, at this uncertain stage, he wanted to avoid announcing the fact that the empire had formed an alliance with this undead creature Ainz.

Even if he put aside the knight-order priests he had brought with him, Jircniv had no idea how the influential shrine priests would react if he came home riding an undead horse that was filled with hatred for all living things.

“Okay, I’ll be going now.”

“Then, Demiurge, see our guests out.”

“Th-that won’t be necessary… You have these beautiful maids; perhaps we could ask them? I’ve never seen such lovely ladies.”

Ainz cocked his head, seeming perplexed.

How annoying…

Jircniv desperately suppressed the fury beneath his faint smile.

Ainz was clearly doing this to be disagreeable because he could tell the humans were wary of Demiurge. He had no intention of building friendly relations with the empire. Surely Ainz’s aim was to wordlessly teach him how this hierarchy would work.

How evil… This was a crisis for the human race!

“Oh, thank you. Then tell the maids standing by outside. This is a great day, the birth of our alliance. I’d like to make it a holiday.”

You mean like Slave Day?!
Without expressing so much as a squeak of his internal scream externally, Jircniv smiled at Ainz. “Indeed. Yes, indeed.”

4

The meeting had ended, and the guardians—Albedo, Demiurge, Aura, Mare, Cocytus, and Shalltear—plus Sebas were in Ainz’s quarters.

Ainz told them to rise from their prostrate positions.

He put his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, concealing half his face behind them.

The stomach he supposedly didn’t have pained him.
Here it comes.
That’s how he felt when he looked over at Demiurge and Albedo.

He couldn’t sense any anger. And no one seemed disgusted.

But who could prove those weren’t poker faces? No, as he looked around with that thought in mind, their expressions began to stiffen in anger.

I wanna run away. Why am I sitting here…? No, it’s too late. Once the milk is spilled, you can’t put it back in the jug. Prepare yourself, Ainz Ooal Gown!

The sensation like stomach cramps eased a bit, but he still felt something like nausea.

When he heard the emperor had come to Nazarick as scheduled, he asked Demiurge in a roundabout way what he should do, but the response was simply, “Everything is going according to plan, so you can just proceed as you have been.”

I don’t know what that plan is!

There was no way he could say that.

As the absolute ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, he had to live up to the expectations of the children, the NPCs. It was all he could do to put on a dauntless king’s smile and say, “I see.”

Ainz took Demiurge’s suggestions and ran around without really knowing what was going on.

So the only way he could go into the meeting with Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix was to think,
Que será, será
. But let’s just say it: He didn’t feel he had negotiated properly.

Ainz looked over at them again, awaiting his score.

This is just like a job interview.

He had done any number of interviews when he joined adult society, and they had all been accompanied by this sort of nervousness.

“So the emperor has moved according to expectations.”

Here Ainz paused for a breath, but just as he was about to continue, someone interrupted.

“Lord Ainz. I beg your pardon, but may I ask a question? Why did you give that human emperor supporter status? Why not simply conquer the empire with our might?”

Shalltear’s question made his nonexistent heart pound.

In order to pursue world conquest, the first step was to put pressure on the empire. That was why he allowed the imperial capital’s attack on Nazarick and then used that threat as a way to lure the emperor into discussion. At that time, the head idea was to demonstrate Nazarick’s overwhelming fighting power. That had been the general plan.

That’s all Ainz knew. He had no idea about why it was necessary to demonstrate their military might to the emperor or any other details.

So of course he didn’t have an answer to Shalltear’s question.

Aura spoke next.

“Shalltear’s right. We barged into their capital. They weren’t so tough.”

Ainz surveyed the room, and all the guardians seemed to have the same doubt.

They had not the slightest intention of going against their master’s decision, but even if they believed he was most correct, they couldn’t help but have questions.

They also thought that if they knew why Ainz had made that choice, they would be able to be of more use to him.

If they went ahead without understanding, there was a good chance they would do something against his wishes. That anxiety was most noticeable in those who had already committed an error, Shalltear and Sebas. Both of them wore extremely earnest expressions and made sure they didn’t miss a single word or a fragment of his intentions.

Under the pressure of everyone’s gazes, Ainz tried to think of a way to get through the situation.

First, I have to decide if I accept or reject Shalltear’s and Aura’s opinions. If I accept them, then this is just part of the plan to conquer the empire. If I reject them, then I have no current plans to conquer the empire… I wonder if Demiurge and Albedo feel the same way. Oh, crap. I’m taking too long…

Ainz chuckled in a way he thought made him sound invincible.

Then he heaved a sigh.

The odds were one in two.

If he got it wrong, all he had to do was find a way to perform course correction, and—

Shalltear has been messing up all the time, so I should oppose her idea!

“That would be foolish, Shalltear.”

It couldn’t just be a trick of his vision that the gleams in all the guardians’ eyes grew brighter. They were hanging on his every word or, rather, trying to pick up every drop of clarity spilling from his brain.

It’s rotten, but whatever!

Ainz turned to Demiurge. He took great pains to keep it from looking like he needed help. “Demiurge.”

He hoped this clever fellow would grasp what he wanted if he just called his name.

“My lord! Please forgive we incompetents who cannot comprehend your ideas.”

“E-er, I think ‘incompetent’ is going too far.”

“My apologies. Please forgive me!”

“…Uh, sure.”

That’s not what I’m talking about. Why won’t you say anything else? This is bad. I don’t really think calling on Demiurge again will help… Why didn’t he give me the answer?

“Albedo.”

“I’m moved practically to tears by your kindness, Lord Ainz. I could expect nothing else from our ruler, the absolute king!”

“……All right, then.”

He wanted an answer more than praise.

But there was no one else from whom he could seek help.

Ainz braced himself and delivered his own conclusion.

“We need a good reason.”

“WE DO?”

“Of course. It would be easy to conquer them with might, yes, but we would make too many enemies that way. These aren’t primitive opponents like the lizardmen. If I had to explain it to someone, this is what I would say: ‘We were living here minding our own business when the empire sent in workers to steal our treasures. We got mad and killed them, and when we had the empire apologize, they said they would make us a country if we forgave them.’ That’s why I’m having the emperor cooperate with us.”

“I see. But, Lord Ainz, will whoever wanted the explanation be satisfied with that?”

“It doesn’t matter, because it’s the truth.”

That was what a good reason was. And Ainz hadn’t said anything untrue.

“Oh, s-so then, is that why you, uh, had the emperor come all the way here?”

“Hmm? What do you mean, Mare?”

“Oh, umm, because if you negotiated in the empire, it’s possible there would have been all sorts of proof left behind, so maybe you spoke with him here where nothing would leak to the outside world. At least, that’s what I was thinking.”

“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?

Jircniv didn’t really think Ainz Ooal Gown would want Fluder as an underling. Fluder may have been the empire’s trump card, but in Ainz’s world, with so many powerful monsters, Fluder’s abilities would hardly be noticeable.

But maybe the knowledge he had amassed was valuable. And besides that, if Ainz Ooal Gown controlled Fluder, the empire’s military strength would plummet, and at the same time, it would lose its trump card in the fight against him.

They would be put under the yoke of slavery.

Is that it? What else could it be? Why else wouldn’t Gramps have said anything…? Because he already knew? Did he already know how powerful Ainz Ooal Gown was?

That moment, it was like lightning struck him.

Cold sweat oozed from every pore.

“Your Majesty? Your Majesty? What’s wrong? You’re awfully pale all of a sudden. Shall I call a prie—?”

“—need.”

“Eh?”

“I said, ‘No need,’ because…it’s not necessary.”

With a glance at his puzzled subordinate, he tried to get sucked back into his thoughts, but…

Am I scared?

His ideas were all jumbled, and he couldn’t pull them together. It was almost as if he was averting his eyes, as if thinking about what came next was forbidden.

No! Running away will only invite the worst possible scenario later! Calm down. Just calm down. Calm yourself and think.

Jircniv concentrated on his thoughts despite the strange looks he was receiving.

If Gramps—if he knew about Ainz Ooal Gown’s powers… I mean, if he already knew about those abilities, then I can understand why he wasn’t acting like himself. Does he have some kind of connection to that monster behind the scenes? It can’t be!

He didn’t have the wherewithal to worry about his subordinates’ surprise and concern at his rapidly changing expression.

No, it can’t be, Jircniv. Gramps saw that death knight and was shocked to his core. Which means he didn’t know about Ainz Ooal Gown’s powers… Well, no, it doesn’t. Right. What if Gr—Fluder didn’t know he could give orders to death knights but still knew he was a great caster?

It was as if the pieces were coming together one by one to create a beautiful—no, horrifying—picture.

So that monster and Fluder knew each other. Since when, though…? From the beginning? Yes. The one who discovered people entering and leaving the tomb and the one who suggested we send workers in was Fluder.

It was like a thread had connected.

When he thought of it like that, most of the questions began to make sense.

“So he betrayed me. I see. He betrayed me. He sold the empire.”

It was a resentful voice from the depths of hell. Or perhaps the cry of a child?

The atmosphere wasn’t such that his subordinates felt asking would be permitted, so they watched him in silence. He turned to look at them.

“Fluder Paradyne betrayed us. What is the damage to the empire in this case? Can a sinecure be arranged?”

Everyone’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads at the unbelievable accusation.

“Y-your Majesty. Could that really be? Surely you must be joking.”

The leading disciple’s comment sent rage spouting from the pit of Jircniv’s stomach. He wanted to shout,
I’m not interested in your opinions!
but held back. The reason he reined in the outburst was that Jircniv the child was still there in a corner of his mind.

He had—unfortunately—grown up surrounded by the enormous amount of plotting that lay beneath the facade of noble society. He dispelled the passionate fury in his belly by taking a breath.

“I’ll say it again. Fluder Paradyne has betrayed us. What is the damage to the empire in this case?”

His subordinates looked at one another. After communicating with their eyes for a few seconds, the leading disciple spoke as their representative. “Unimaginable damage that would make you want to cover your eyes. We’ve been able to coerce other countries with the mere suggestion of Master’s existence. That’s why the empire has never fallen prey to foreign schemes.”

When he looked to the secretary for confirmation, the man nodded with a deathly pale face.

“If word got out that we pushed him into a sinecure, it would give the other countries room to maneuver.”

“But the empire has an intelligence agency, doesn’t it? Oh, I see. Hmph. Thanks to Fluder, they don’t have much experience, huh?”

“As you so wisely point out. Your Majesty, do you really—?”

“The probability is shockingly high,” Jircniv asserted, cutting the secretary off. “Ahh, but I have such a mountain of things to do. First, I have to decide who will take Fluder’s place. Is there anyone good?”

Noticing the flames of ambition blaze up in the leading disciple’s eyes, Jircniv laughed in his head.

Fluder’s position, principal court wizard, must have been incredibly appealing.

Since such a great hero had been in it up until now, it wasn’t a position that could be reached. Anyone would be too outclassed to even aspire to it. That job, over which absolute resignation used to reign, was now right in front of him.

Ambition spurs people, generates the power for them to act. I acknowledge your ambition. But I need to ask you this first.

“Because you know, the next principal court wizard may have to fight a magic duel against the monster.”

The disciple’s ambition was immediately extinguished. He no longer had the slightest interest. To the leading disciple, principal court wizard was suddenly the least desirable job in the world.

Plunging off a thousand-foot cliff into stormy waters offered a better chance of survival than competing against Ainz Ooal Gown with magic.

Actually, it was possible that dying was the better choice.

His face looked like that’s what he was thinking, and his eyes had the same shine as a cornered mouse’s.

Jircniv abandoned his expectations, having learned that this man didn’t have the courage to duel Ainz Ooal Gown. It was wrong to have expected anything in the first place.

“I-i-in that case, there are some disciples who can use tier-four spells, so what if we chose one of them? I can use them, too, but, well, I’m no expert.”

“I heard you were the most talented of the leading disciples…”

“O-oh no, no! Some are more powerful than me. I’ll suggest some candidates later on.”

Of course, Jircniv understood that being asked to fight such a colossal monster would crush anyone’s resolve. What he sought was someone with the courage to do it anyway.

…This is no good. And it won’t help to assume this disciple is an exception. We can probably assume that anyone who knows about Ainz Ooal Gown won’t be brave enough to fight him. Our only choice is to leave things up to someone who hasn’t confronted him yet. Someone ignorant will get the same gleam in their eyes as this guy just did and work their ass off for me.

It wasn’t a good idea, but it was his only option.

“…I see. Then we’ll hold interviews after you’ve put together some details on the candidates. And we should probably start preparing our response. For now, we’ll cooperate and obey like a dog in order to build friendly relations.”

“Understood.”

No one objected to the phrase
like a dog
. Well, how could they, after laying eyes on the Great Tomb of Nazarick?

“So, Your Majesty, how long will we allow ourselves to be wagged as that monster’s tail? Until our grandchildren’s generation? Our great-grandchildren’s generation?”

Jircniv looked around. He wanted to make sure there were no spies and that the doors weren’t open. Once he determined the coast was clear, he spoke of the strategy he’d had in mind ever since his meeting with Ainz Ooal Gown.

“Our goal is to join the empire, the kingdom, the Theocracy, the council state, and the sacred kingdom into a single grand alliance. We’ll establish a massive united front to oppose Ainz Ooal Gown.”

Six wide eyes stared at Jircniv.

“Why are you surprised? The empire can’t win against that monster by itself. Our only choice is to get the surrounding countries involved to defeat him.”

“W-we’re going to fight?”

“We’ll fight,” Jircniv stated curtly. “There’s no other way for us to survive.”

“Then why are you helping that monster establish a country?!”

“That’s the first step in building the grand alliance.” Jircniv looked each of his carriage mates in the face. “Listen. This land—the outskirts of E-Rantel—is an area where the interests of the kingdom, the Theocracy, and the empire clash. If Gown sets up a country here, he’ll naturally be considered a potential enemy to all three countries.”

Jircniv paused for a breath and then continued.

“And another thing. He’s undead. I don’t think he can govern humans—or any living things. I mean, I don’t think our subjects would submit to an undead. Do you? They’ll definitely revolt, and then that monster will crack down on them. The kingdom will have to act, after being forced to give up their territory. And I have no doubt the strongest country in the region, the Slane Theocracy, will make a move as well.”

“B-but, Your Majesty! If we help him create his country, it’ll look like we’re siding with that monster. The other countries will definitely be wary of us! The empire will be excluded from the grand alliance! Even if they managed to take out that monster, the empire would be next. They might even get rid of us first.”

“Heh,” Jircniv scoffed. “We’ll work behind the scenes. It’ll be important to convince them we’re spying on Gown’s country. I know it’ll be difficult, but it’s the only way.”

“Do you think anyone will believe it? If it were me, I’d assume it’s a trap.”

“That will depend on Ainz Ooal Gown’s power. The best will be if we can show everyone how immensely powerful he is… We’ll have to think of a way to talk to him about that. For example, maybe he could demonstrate his strength on the battlefield.”

“Couldn’t the empire have avoided supporting him and left things vaguer?”

Jircniv turned his eyes on his secretary like he was looking at an idiot. “In order to secure a bare-minimum security, we have to play both sides. What’s the point of siding with the kingdom if Gown just seizes all the land in the region?”

Jircniv was choosing the least awful option.

“For those reasons, the empire will pretend to back that monster while actually supporting the alliance. Clearly, if that comes out, there’s a high probability the beast will aim to crush us first. At least, if it were me, I’d make an example out of us, for sure.”

“Ahh yeah, that you would, Your Majesty.”

“…I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, this is why we can’t be the ones to propose the grand alliance. We need those countries to form it of their own accord. We need to focus on gathering intelligence from within Nazarick. At the same time, we search for anyone who might be able to defeat him.”

“Do you really think someone like that exists?” The leading disciple asked this in a tone that made it clear he had no confidence a person like that would turn up, but he posed the question anyway. Someone who could defeat that unrivaled monster? It seemed like it would be impossible even for a dragon, the strongest race in the world.

But Jircniv’s answer was full of confidence. “Sure there is.”

“Really?!”

“There were! In that Throne Room.”

Then the disciple understood.

He meant the monsters lined up around Ainz: Aura, Mare, the silver-haired girl, the insect, and Demiurge.

“You’re going to make them defect?”

“I don’t really think I’m capable of that, but it’s still worth a shot. We’ll prepare money, status, and members of the opposite sex to see if we can attract them even slightly to our side.”

“It seems like a long shot…”

“Of course, but that goes without saying. Ainz Ooal Gown has the air of a high king. No one with a ruler like that is going to readily betray him. But we must act nonetheless. This isn’t a mere dispute between states.”

Jircniv eyed the other three with determination.

“This is a fight for the continued existence of the human race. It’s a fight to protect the future. We’ve got to wager our bodies and souls.”

6

“—So I think that’s how this emperor will think and then act. If he was more foolish, he might do something unexpected, but I think the chances of that are quite slim. It’s convenient that these middling thinkers are easier to read than idiots,” Demiurge said, holding up a finger.

“Do you mean that he desires to form an alliance with the intent to destroy us—and Lord Ainz?”

“Mm, I dunno, he seems pretty stupid to me.”

“U-umm, would it be better for us to make the first move and crush them?”

Shalltear’s disgusted comment was closely followed by Aura’s and Mare’s input; none of them seemed angry. It was as if they were talking about picking a pebble up off the ground.

“The bigger problem is—”

Sebas began to speak, but his sentence was finished for him.

“—Are you saying that he plans to convince us to betray Lord Ainz?”

“EXACTLY, SEBAS. THAT EMPEROR DOESN’T KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD
LOYALTY
.”

Everyone scoffed.

Ainz and the Forty-One Supreme Beings created them. Did those humans really think they would betray their creators?

Of course, all this supposition was merely Demiurge’s guess, but even that seemed to make the guardians very uncomfortable; they all had hard glints deep in their eyes.

“I don’t mean to copy Mare, but I’m kind of annoyed. Couldn’t we just crush them?”

Something dark had come over Aura for the first time, and Shalltear smiled at her.

“Transforming them into vampires would be the best. If they were high quality, we could put them to work in Nazarick.”

Cocytus didn’t say anything, but he began clicking a warning sound.

“Everyone, Lord Ainz is present.”

Shalltear’s, Aura’s, and Cocytus’s anger subsided in response to Sebas’s levelheaded voice.

“Ho-ho… That’s right, everyone, please calm down. Remember what Demiurge said. This is all according to expectations. If you don’t enjoy the clowns performing their comedy routine, then what is left? The appropriate response from us is admiration—because everything is happening according to Lord Ainz’s plan. Right, Lord Ainz?”

Huh… Ainz’s plan? Seems like some guy with the same name as me has come up with some special plan. And I guess part of that plan is that the Baharuth emperor will create an alliance to oppose Nazarick… I don’t get it at all. I’d like to ask that Ainz guy what it’s all about.

…He couldn’t run away from reality forever.

Ainz wanted to make a clean break, tell them he actually had no plan, then ask what kind of misunderstandings Demiurge and Albedo were operating under.

But there was no way he could do that.

Ainz looked at Albedo anew without moving his eyes.

What he saw was a woman who seemed to be dripping sticky honey. Her entranced eyes were moist, her cheeks slightly rosy.

It was a reaction to her belief that everything was going according to his plan—she was in love with his wisdom.

It was too late to deny everything. Who in this situation would be able to ask,
What are we talking about exactly?

There was only one thing Ainz could say in response to Albedo’s question.

“Tha…t’s right.”

He wanted to pat himself on the back for suppressing the tremors in his voice.

The guardians oohed in respect.

“…Tee-hee-hee.” As Albedo opened her arms, the wings at her hips also spread. “Lord Ainz will peacefully occupy the human cities and reign over this whole region with his love. That emperor will build an evil alliance to oppose his earthly paradise. Thus, in the not too distant future, Lord Ainz will probably teach that country what goodness is. Our cause is just!”

“That’s something to look forward to. When that fool realizes he’s been dancing in the palm of Lord Ainz’s hand, I wonder how he’ll react… You’re always several moves ahead, my lord.”

After Demiurge honored Ainz with a sincere appraisal, Albedo spoke again with a respectful expression on her face.

“We are truly unable to grasp the extent of Lord Ainz’s wisdom. Without the hero, Momon, he created, a peaceful takeover would have been impossible, and he would have had to rule E-Rantel through fear and violence.”

“…He might have used the Golden Princess instead, but that would have been a waste of one of our cards. As I found in my analysis of the intelligence Sebas gathered for us, she’s quite—no, she’s beyond interesting. She’ll be very valuable to us.”

“From what I’ve heard you say, I really want to meet her.”

“Then maybe you could go as a messenger to the kingdom after our country is built? We have to make good on our promise, after all.”

“…AREN’T YOU TWO GETTING OFF TOPIC? DON’T YOU THINK YOU’RE WASTING LORD AINZ’S PRECIOUS TIME?”

The pair hurriedly apologized, and Ainz said, “It’s fine.”

In fact, Ainz was gleaning information from their chatter and using the time to think up excuses, so it was perfect for him.

“Ah, but you do so amaze us, Lord Ainz.”

“You said it, Shalltear. I mean, he came up with a strategy that surprised even Demiurge and Albedo…”

“M-magnificent as always, Lord Ainz. Y-you’re so cool. I—I, uh, really look up to you.”

“I’M ASHAMED OF MY LACK OF INTELLIGENCE.”

“I can’t help but feel that if I can’t keep up with your ideas, I’m useless.”

The guardians’ compliments stabbed into him like knives.

He half wondered if they were making fun of him, but the deference, respect, and adoration in their eyes were unmistakable. Ainz couldn’t say anything in response; he only carried on with his usual act.

“That’s not true. It just happened to turn out that way this time. Plus, Demiurge and Albedo, you figured it all out.”

“No, if you hadn’t handled that human the way you did, we wouldn’t have been able to guess.”

“It’s just as Demiurge says. To see ahead so far into the unknown…it’s just what you would expect from the leader of the Supreme Beings. I’ve fallen for you more than ever before.”

“Brilliant as always, Lord Ainz. To think you could outsmart the greatest intellect of Nazarick, Demiurge.”

“For real! You’re awesome, Lord Ainz!”

“Yeah! You’re awesome!”

“I KNEW YOUR ABILITIES WERE EXTRAORDINARY, LORD AINZ, BUT I DIDN’T REALIZE JUST HOW EXTRAORDINARY… YOU ARE TRULY NAZARICK’S GREAT TREASURE.”

“Indubitably. You are so compassionate and wise. There can be no greater ruler than you, Lord Ainz.”

“…Ahh…”

“Oh, that reminds me—there’s something we need to decide. I have absolutely no objection to Lord Ainz being a king, but if he’s only a king, then he’d be no different from any of those worms out there, right? I think we need to decide a more suitable title for Lord Ainz.”

The guardians unanimously approved Demiurge’s idea.

“What do you think, Lord Ainz?”

“I have no objections. Do as you like.”

Really, he felt like King Ainz Ooal Gown was fine. With
King
attached, there was a palpable increase in his status, to the point where his mental state was forcibly stabilized several times.

“Then does anyone have any suggestions?”

“I do.” Shalltear raised her hand. “I think we should pay tribute to Lord Ainz’s beauty and call him ‘the Gorgeous King.’”

The guardians oohed in appreciation.

Gorgeous King Ainz Ooal Gown?

“Now me!” Aura raised her hand next. “I think we should emphasize Lord Ainz’s strength! So ‘Power King,’ meaning a king who’s powerful, seems good to me!”

Several voiced their understanding at last.

Power King Ainz Ooal Gown?

“U-umm, can I suggest one, too? Uh, Lord Ainz is nice, so I think we should make sure everyone knows that. U-umm, s-so what about something like maybe, uh, ‘the Affectionate King’?”

The guardians all nodded.

Affectionate King Ainz Ooal Gown?

“I humbly submit”—Demiurge paused, probably for dramatic effect—“that we pay tribute to Lord Ainz’s sublime mind and call him ‘the Wise King.’”

The guardians all seemed to find that acceptable.

Wise King Ainz Ooal Gown? Sorry, anything but that, please…

“How about you, Sebas?”

In response to Albedo’s question, Sebas said, “I was thinking that just plain ‘King’ would be fine.”

“Then it’s my turn, right? Since he is the loftiest of all the Supreme Beings, I think ‘Supreme King’ would be good.”

Admiring gasps went up from the group of guardians.

Supreme King Ainz Ooal Gown? All the proposals are pretty…unique.

All eyes turned to the one guardian who hadn’t commented yet.

“How about you, Cocytus? I realize it’s hard to follow up my suggestion of ‘Supreme King,’ but do you have anything that would be a good fit for Lord Ainz?”

“…HMM. LORD AINZ WILL LIKELY GO ON TO SUBJUGATE MANY CREATURES BY WAY OF HIS SUPREME MAGICAL ABILITY. THEREFORE, I BELIEVE HE SHOULD BE KNOWN AS THE ONE WHO RULES OVER THE CREATURES OF DARKNESS AND MAGIC ITSELF—‘THE KING OF DARKNESS.’”

The guardians didn’t react immediately.

But everyone looked at Ainz. In their eyes, he saw silent agreement—they all thought there was no greater title for him than this. Albedo seemed a tiny bit disappointed, but even so—

“Very good. I’ll take Cocytus’s suggestion.”

Ainz slowly rose from his seat.

“Once my kingdom is established, I will be known as the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown!”

He waved off their shower of applause, feeling embarrassed. But it was true that he was a bit tickled.

“All right! When the time comes for the kingdom and the empire to fight, the moment for Nazarick to show them its might will be at hand!”

“Quite right, Lord Ainz. They will try to investigate your powers, but they won’t even know that it’s part of our plan.”

Demiurge continued, seeming very pleased.

“Before negotiating, it’s important to give them one good blow to make them understand the power disparity. When the creatures known as fools don’t fully grasp the strength of their enemy, they tend to behave stupidly. In that sense, that emperor is a fool; he didn’t realize that the smartest thing for him to do was to bow his head and lick Lord Ainz’s boots.”

“I was wondering about that. Wouldn’t allowing humans to lick Lord Ainz’s boots be a reward?”

“Ohh, that’s an Albedo question if I ever heard one. But I’d rather lick his body.”

Ainz pretended he couldn’t hear Albedo and Shalltear whispering.

“…Very well, everyone. Prepare to increase the renown of Nazarick even further!”

“Yes, my lord!”

The chorus of acknowledgments echoed throughout the room.