Overlord

Chapter 4 | Siege

1

The end of winter was still far off, and the air was cold. But thanks to copious amounts of body hair, a certain creature felt none of the chill. His shiny black fur and the clothes he wore provided more than adequate protection from the elements. Even if he donned metal armor, the cold wouldn’t seep through.

His body trembled for a different reason.

Anger.

Even the word
rage
would not do it justice.

He let out the instinctive growl of a carnivore before catching himself and clicking his tongue in shame.

For a member of the zooostia race, growling was a sign that he wasn’t in control of his emotions. Rather improper conduct for an adult.

But that was only when among those of his own race.

If one of his peers had heard him, the low rumble that came from between his sharp, closed teeth might have made their blood run cold and paralyzed them with fear.

In any case, he turned away from the human city wall he had been staring at and returned to his camp.

An overwhelmingly powerful demon called Jaldabaoth held sway over the many different races that had gathered here, but his control did not stem the arguments that were constantly breaking out.

The allied subhumans numbered over a hundred thousand strong and had been roughly split into three groups.

Forty thousand were arrayed against the Sacred Kingdom’s southern army.

Fifty thousand were defending and managing the prison camps in the seized territory of the Sacred Kingdom.

The last ten thousand were performing odd jobs such as scouting the northern lands in search of supplies.

The zooostias were currently in a detachment of forty thousand that had been drawn from the prison camp group.

With that many thrown together, trouble was only natural. This time, though, there was no one blocking his path. Nothing would stop or slow him down.

Who would voluntarily stand in front of a rolling boulder?

No one here had the mental fortitude to disturb him when he was this determined.

Advancing as if strolling across an empty meadow, he soon spotted a tent up ahead that was grander than all the rest.

There were subhuman soldiers at the entrance, but they weren’t for guard duty. They were simply standing by in case the one inside needed errands run—in other words, they were gofers.

The soldiers gave way, shuddering in fear. As he passed between them and brushed aside the fabric overhanging the entrance, the five inside turned sharp gazes on him.

He had just drawn the attention of some of the most powerful members of the entire subhuman army, not counting the demons. All their glares were so intense that the pressure was almost palpable, but the zooostia retained his composure, unfazed.

In fact, he also stood among the top ten strongest, making him one of their peers. He sniffed derisively at their glares and dropped into an open seat. He didn’t have the lower body of a humanoid, so technically he lay down.

Though he noticed one of the five bob his head at him, he ignored the
greeting and instead opted to scowl openly at the most powerful subhuman in the room.

The target of his ire was a serpentlike creature with arms.

Appropriate to his nickname Rainbow Scales, his scales shone in all the colors of the rainbow, glittering curiously, almost as if they were wet. This flashy exterior wasn’t only visually striking—as rumor had it, those scales were as hard as a dragon’s. What’s more, they were resistant to magic as well. On top of that, Rainbow Scales wore enchanted armor, wielded a large shield, and was a capable warrior. Little wonder he was regarded as the most formidable inhabitant of the Abellion Hills.

He was a nagaraja named Rokesh, the one chosen by the demonic emperor as commander in chief of this army.

Lying next to him was the famous weapon he wielded, known for its terrifying special ability, a Trident of Dehydration.

“—Why aren’t we attacking?” the zooostia asked Rokesh in a low, restrained tone.

It had been three days since they had reached the city held by the pitiful human resistance, yet there hadn’t been a single clash.

“…I realize their walls block our way, but with our numbers, breaking through should be no problem.”

There were plenty in the subhuman alliance who would not be hindered at all by these simple fortifications. If they pressed that advantage, there didn’t seem to be much issue.

“You’re not losing your nerve on us, are you?”

“Sir Vicious Claw.”

At the sound of his name, Vijar Rajandala frowned as he glanced at his fellow zooostia before turning back to the nagaraja.

The name Vicious Claw was known throughout the hills. It had been for nearly two hundred years—not because zooostias lived a long time but because there was a clan that passed it down.

Having only just inherited the title from his father, Vijar was fully aware that he wasn’t worthy of it yet. Hence his eagerness to do battle and
gain some renown. But so far, there had been few opportunities to show off his power as the newest successor to the name Vicious Claw.

Most of the opponents he had fought were weak. None of them could withstand even two blows from his enchanted battle-ax, Edge Wing.

That wasn’t good enough.

He couldn’t let this war end as just another mere underling of the peerless demon known as Jaldabaoth. He needed a chance to distinguish himself. And that chance had finally arrived.

Yet, Rokesh refused to attack. Vijar’s discontent was plain to see.

“I heard the Mighty King was the one who guarded that city. Are you scared that our opponent was able to defeat him?”

The Mighty King—the leader of the bufolk.

He had been another one of the most powerful ten subhumans.

Vijar knew the Mighty King had been known for using a vexing weapon-breaking ability, but even so, he was confident the two of them were equal in power. If this new challenger had defeated the Mighty King, perhaps he had finally found a worthy opponent.

“I’ll take care of the upstart, so let’s attack already.”

He suspected he already knew the identity of the one who had slain the Mighty King.

It must be that human paladin. If the rumors I’ve heard are true, she could have pulled it off.

He pictured a holy knight with a sword of light.

“Sir Vijar, you arrive late without so much as an apology and then go so far as to make demands? As commander, I’d like to give you a piece of my mind…but for now, I simply ask that you contain yourself. Rest assured, I understand your intent.” Rokesh denied his request quite generously, although it was still firm.

“What a joke. Listen to this clueless nestling twitter on.”

The one snickering at Vijar was the queen of the four-armed magiroses, Nasrenée Berto Cule—sometimes better known by her title Elemental Storm.

Vijar frowned.

He had no intention of losing in hand-to-hand combat, but Nasrenée was adept at magic; the idea that the battle could be decided in a way he couldn’t even imagine made him nervous. But he would be too ashamed to face his ancestors as inheritor of the name Vicious Claw if he simply stood by while someone openly mocked him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to if you would get off your ass, you old crone.”

Magiroses had relatively long life spans, but considering she had already made a name for herself in the hills when he was still a child, he figured she must be middle-aged at least. It was impossible to tell her age by her complexion, since she applied makeup to her face. But perhaps it was also a sign that she was concerned about how the passage of time had affected her looks. And maybe the perfume she wore was more to mask the natural musk of an aging body than for its flowery scent.

“Oh-ho.”

As Nasrenée narrowed her eyes, the temperature in the tent seemed to suddenly drop. This was no trick of the mind.

“I’m just stating the facts,” Vijar replied as he sat up slightly straighter.

This subtle but clearly aggressive gesture was no empty threat. His quadruped lower half could muster prodigious amounts of instantaneous muscular power and agility. In combat, he used this to his advantage, often lunging forward from a deep, low posture. It was notable that he didn’t drop into that stance. Between the two of them, he held the higher status, so he wanted it to be clear he was letting her make the first move.

“True or not, there are certain things that you simply shouldn’t say. I think you need a lesson in how to properly treat a lady, nestling—and that’s a job for someone older and wiser.”

Rokesh headed off the volatile situation.

“Would you two cut it out? If a fight breaks out at the war council meeting, I’ll have to report it to Emperor Jaldabaoth.”

After he invoked the name of absolute power, the pair decided against it, though they didn’t neglect to send parting shots with their eyes, signaling,
It’s not as if I’ve forgiven you
and
I’ll fight you anytime!

“
Sigh…
I realize the strong have a compulsion to prove yourselves, but I’d like you to appreciate the meaning of the word
cooperation
.”

“Hee-hee-hee. Not like you can talk.” An apelike creature with long white hair laughed as he ribbed Rokesh.

“Fair enough. In any case, Sir Vicious Claw, regarding your previous question, no, it’s not that I’ve lost my nerve. Certainly, the Mighty King was a fierce warrior. But each of us here is a match for him, are we not?”

Rokesh looked pointedly at Vicious Claw and Elemental Storm before turning to the other three as well.

The primate with the long, snow-white hair wearing a plethora of enchanted gold accessories was king of the stone eaters, Harisha Ankarra.

The elites of his race could discretely obtain special abilities depending on what gems were included in their diet. For example, by eating diamonds, they could gain temporary resistance to all physical attacks except sheer blunt force. Normally, it was possible to hold only three of these attributes at once, but Harisha could possess many more. For that reason, he was considered a different variety of stone eater.

Then there was the orthrous general who had greeted Vijar when he joined the meeting. The one clad in armor covered in ornate carvings and bearing his equally splendid helmet and lance lying next to him was Hectowyzeth a Lagara.

The acknowledgment he offered earlier was due to the orthrous race’s alliance with the zooostias, not recognition of Vijar’s personal strength. That was why it had bothered him.

Still, that was no excuse to come to blows with Hectowyzeth. Certainly, Vijar would win if they got into it, but Hectowyzeth was known for more than his own strength; he was a famous general who had been victorious despite being outnumbered ten to one. It was clear who held the advantage in any fight that involved leading troops. Any boasts Vijar could make about his individual martial prowess would just seem pathetic, knowing that. He was often at a loss about how he should interact with this orthrous.

Finally, there was another zooostia, who had stayed quiet—Muar Praksha.

Known by the epithet Black Iron, he was an accomplished ranger often likened to a shadow slipping through the darkness.

Though rangers were rare among the physically blessed zooostias who usually relied on brute force in battle, Muar used his terrifying skills as an assassin to approach stealthily, launch a surprise attack, and quietly finish off his enemies before they had a chance to respond. Once he targeted someone, his iron will never faltering, he would end them without fail, hence the nickname.

Vijar didn’t think he would lose, but a fight against any one of them would be no easy win.

“And as for the reason we’re not attacking, it’s because of the order I received from Emperor Jaldabaoth at Limun.”

“What? Really?”

The reason Vijar asked was because out of the forty thousand who had been gathered to form this assault force, only Rokesh had spoken to Jaldabaoth directly. Once the others had been called to the city of Karinsha, preparations were made, and all that remained was waiting to move out.

Jaldabaoth kept teleporting between multiple cities, so there hadn’t been any further contact from him.

“Emperor Jaldabaoth said to give the humans occupying the city a few days.”

“Why should we do that?” asked Vijar.

“To make them afraid. There aren’t even ten thousand of them. If we only count the few who can fight, then the number goes down further. Meanwhile, all of us are battle hardened… I can only imagine how terrified they must be.”

“I see… Our emperor is truly terrifying.”

“Hee-hee-hee. Yes, exactly. But I do understand how you feel, Sir Vijar. How much longer until their time runs out?”

“Well, he left the number of days up to us. That said, though we have two months of food, we shouldn’t give them too much time.”

“And the prisoners have to be managed, too.”

The huge number of prisoners was currently being supervised by a
mere ten thousand subhumans. Though they were stronger than humans individually, numbers had a strength all their own. If any kind of mass disturbance occurred, they most likely wouldn’t be able to contain it.

“That’s right. Which is why I’ve gathered us here—to make the final decision. I propose we attack in two days and finish this once and for all. Any objections?”

No one objected.

“Good. Then we’ll attack after two more days. Continue observing until then.”

It seemed extremely unlikely, but there was a nonzero chance that the enemy moved first.

“Should we finish off the humans we brought with us?”

Some subhumans ate humans. And those races liked their food fresh. Zooostias weren’t particularly fond of human meat; they preferred beef. But if it was a choice between beef jerky and fresh human meat, most would choose the latter.

Meanwhile, Elemental Storm made a sour face. Magiroses didn’t eat humans, probably because their appearances were relatively similar.

“Hee-hee-hee. So how about we eat them alive right in front of the city tomorrow? That’ll scare the ones inside.”

“Good idea. And if we announce our attack tomorrow…”

“Don’t make them despair too much. What’ll we do if they surrender? It’s when they cling to hope and struggle that makes the fight any fun. There’s no bigger bore than killing people who have already resigned themselves to die.”

Vijar wanted to fight strong opponents. There was no sport in combat with the weak.

“Oh. There’s one more thing—an order from Emperor Jaldabaoth. He doesn’t want us to kill everyone; we should let some survivors escape. It doesn’t have to be a lot. My plan is to kill everyone on this side guarding the west gate and then chase off the ones by the east gate.”

“Meaning the one leading the offensive on the east gate needs to be
someone who can control their troops. Otherwise, they’ll just massacre everyone.”

When Nasrenée said that, everyone’s eyes gathered on one individual.

“I see… Then is it all right if I take all my fellow orthrouses?”

“I’d like to use some as messengers, so could you spare a few?”

“Understood, Sir Rokesh. Then I, Hectowyzeth a Lagara, shall handle the east gate.”

“I’d also like to have smaller detachments positioned at the north and south walls for added pressure. There’s no need to mount serious attacks, but I do want them to do some damage. I’d like someone who’s used to fighting at range to handle it…”

There were three present who could be relied on in long-distance fights. The one Rokesh chose was the taciturn zooostia.

“Sir Muar Praksha.”

“Understood,” he replied sulkily.

“The rest of you will focus on the west gate. I doubt there will be much for you to do, but if someone strong shows up, I’m counting on you all; I’ll be overseeing the operation, so I won’t be on the front lines.”

Vijar and the others nodded.

“Then we’re in agreement. We seize this city in two days. Take it easy and conserve your energy until the moment we make those foolish humans scream.”

2

As she headed for the King of Darkness’s room, Neia swallowed the sickening taste that rose from the pit of her stomach. An inescapable sourness spread throughout her mouth.

She took the leather pouch on her hip and drank some of the water inside.

The contents had acquired the distinct flavor of the leather, so the water wasn’t very enjoyable, but it soothed the irritation in her throat and washed away the foul aftertaste that had lingered. Her nausea remained, however, and the water couldn’t bring the color back to her pale face.

Neia recalled what she desperately wanted to forget—a scene that made her sick to her stomach.

Three days had passed since the city came under siege by a giant subhuman army.

There hadn’t been any attacks or negotiations since it started, but on this day, the subhumans had brought out some Sacred Kingdom prisoners to a spot just beyond the walls of Roytz, the small city they were currently in. The invaders had been close enough that someone well trained could have attacked them with a bow or sling, but unfortunately the humans didn’t have anyone like that inside the walls.

Neia was sure that she could hit them with the bow the King of Darkness had lent her. Sadly, an overt attack like that could have sparked a battle, beginning a fight of ten thousand against forty thousand. And they would have to open the gate to rescue the prisoners.

That simply wasn’t an option, since the subhumans would flood in the moment they tried, so all they could do was watch.

There were a little fewer than twenty prisoners made up of a variety of men, women, and children. No elderly, however. They were all naked and worse for wear.

The Sacred Kingdom citizens who had gathered to see what was going on assumed they would be used as some kind of bargaining chips. Then the bloodshed began.

The subhumans casually killed them all.

Ripping their throats out, subhumans nearly ten feet tall held the bodies upside down. Neia could see clearly as a huge amount of bright-red blood suffused the soil.

Then the dismembering began.

Neia had seen her father butcher animals a few times. But it looked
completely different when it was being done to humans, and the sight shocked her deeply.

After that, what remained of the prisoners was devoured while they were still fresh.

The worst part was that some of the victims were still alive when the eating began.

Neia could still hear the shrieks of the infant whose stomach was torn apart by ravenous mouths and the wails of those having their innards yanked out.

It was thanks to Gustav’s smart thinking that they had left Remedios behind under the pretext of having her guard Master Caspond. If she had been there, she would have started the battle for sure.

“Sigh.”
Neia took another sip of water and forced it down.

Some say it’s better to just throw up if the urge comes, but she figured it would be rude to visit the King of Darkness’s chamber smelling like vomit.

After exhaling and checking her breath a couple of times, she stood before his door.

There was no one standing on either side of it.

It meant that under siege by the subhumans as they were, there weren’t enough personnel to assign the king proper guards.

Neia knocked and called out. “Your Majesty, it’s Squire Neia Baraja. May I come in?”

“Yes, come in.”

Having received permission, Neia quietly entered the room.

Most of the furniture had been ruined by the subhumans, so his quarters were simply appointed. That said, the room was still better furnished than probably any other in the city.

The King of Darkness was standing with his back to Neia, looking out the window.

“It’s quite hectic out there. So many people running below my window. It’s the fourth day since we’ve been surrounded, but I don’t think there
has been this big of a commotion since the first. Has there been some sign they’ll attack soon?”

The king had been spending his time quietly in this room as if to emphasize that he didn’t wish to participate in the fight. He didn’t attend the war council meeting they held when the subhumans first moved into position outside the town, either.

The leadership of the liberation army weren’t too thrilled about that, but when he pointed out that in the long run, it wouldn’t really do them any favors to have another country’s king butting in, no one was in any position to make demands.

Instead, Neia was dispatched to various meetings. She knew the army leaders were trying to share information with the king through her, and she could see why they were doing it. But that was also how she ended up witnessing the massacre.

“…No, there hasn’t been any major enemy movement. But they did carry out what I suppose you could call…a demonstration. I think there’s been a change of the guard and so on.”

“I see. I take it the showdown is imminent? The subhumans must have wanted to hurt your people’s morale… By the way, do you think you can win?”

No.
She could reply immediately; the answer was so obvious.

First, they were far too outnumbered.

Ten thousand humans against forty thousand subhumans.

And that was only if they included children and elderly. Plus, it wasn’t as if everyone was well rested and had a chance to properly recover from the wounds—both physical and mental—they had suffered in the prison camps.

Common wisdom said that the defenders held the advantage in a siege, but that didn’t apply when both sides were never evenly matched to begin with.

It was practically pointless to compare subhumans to ordinary, run-of-the-mill humans, considering how fragile they were.

The only ones who could put up a decent fight against subhumans were
paladins, priests, and the career soldiers known as servicemen, but naturally they didn’t have many of those. Against a subhuman army of forty thousand, their pitiful numbers would be as powerless as splashing water at a fire dragon’s breath.

But was it actually impossible for them to win? Not necessarily.

Even without the trump card of the King of Darkness, it was possible for one person to repel the enemy.

If there weren’t any extraordinary subhumans in their ranks, then the Sacred Kingdom’s most powerful paladin, Remedios Custodio, could probably sweep away forty thousand of them. At least if fatigue and sustaining critical hits weren’t taken into account.

But there was no guarantee that there wasn’t a warrior as powerful as Remedios in the attacking army. If anything, it was more likely for there to be one present.

Neia remembered Mighty King Buser, who had ruled this town previously. He had fallen like a sack of trash before the King of Darkness, but that was because the king was simply that much more powerful. Overwhelmingly so. No matter how Neia tried, she would never manage to win against someone like that.

There could easily be another subhuman lord just as strong as the Sacred Kingdom’s strongest paladin—and maybe even stronger. To Neia, that much power couldn’t even be measured accurately.

And in reality, fatigue couldn’t be left out of the equation, either. Not even the strongest warrior was immune to fatigue. It was possible to recover temporarily with magic, but the problem wouldn’t go away indefinitely.

If the enemy attacked Remedios while she was still exhausted after slaughtering an army of ten thousand, it would only take an average-strength subhuman to defeat her. Numbers were truly powerful.

But if there was a way to negate that…
Neia’s gaze moved to the great king whose back was still turned to her.

An absolute power.

An overlord, a being who transcended this world.

The King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown. He was their only hope.

Captivated by the sight of his regal back, Neia realized she hadn’t answered his question and blurted out a response. “I-I’m not sure!” Her voice came out a bit louder than intended because she was flustered. Blushing, she reverted to her regular volume. “All we can do is give it our best shot.”

The king seemed not to notice her distress and followed up with another question. “I see. And is there any new information about the enemy? Or if Jaldabaoth is present?”

“Nothing has changed from the other day. We haven’t spotted him among their ranks.”

“Hmm, then sorry, but it would be difficult for me to aid in the defense. We’ll be in trouble if I don’t recover the mana I’ve used. We need to consider the fact that he may be aiming to strike when I’m low.”

“Of course. Everyone understands your position on this matter, Your Majesty.”

Once someone reported they had spotted a demon that seemed like Jaldabaoth, but when Neia said she would confirm, she was suddenly told that it was probably a mistake. Judging by the mood during that meeting, it was clear the members of the war council had conspired while Neia wasn’t present to attempt a ruse by feeding the king false information.

These guys who would lie to another country’s king just because they detest undead are completely devoid of good faith… Even trapped like this, shouldn’t we conduct ourselves with pride when we engage with someone deserving of respect?

“How do you think the subhumans are likely to move?”

“Well, up until today, they were only at the west gate, but they’ve split their forces and maneuvered a smaller group to the east gate. It might be in preparation for the coming battle.”

“So they’ve had enough time to build a siege weapon? Well, I suppose we can say that’s a good thing. Mostly because they didn’t try to starve you.”

Neia wasn’t sure if the current situation was good or not, but it was true they had no recourse if the enemy chose to let them wither on the vine.

The surrounding area consisted mostly of featureless, flat land. Sallying
out would just end with an instant, crushing defeat. Holding the city wall against an assault, considering the number disparity, would still only make it a little more of a fight. Of course, that was simply a change from overwhelmingly bad odds to fairly bad odds.

“It might be because they have no way of knowing how much food we have, but more than that, they probably don’t think this minor city will be very hard to take.”

“They did overcome that wall we saw when we entered the Sacred Kingdom, so it makes sense that these fortifications seem like nothing to them… If you put up a good enough defense to the point where the subhumans feel like they’re losing the advantage, they’ll switch to starvation tactics. Then things will get really tough.”

It was like he was saying that what lay beyond this unwinnable battle was the
true
battle.

“Your Majesty, what do you think will happen next?”

“How will things develop from here? I don’t know any better than you. Frankly, being besieged like this may very well be checkmate. You should only hole up if you know you have reinforcements coming. Or if your opponents have a time limit for some reason. But we’re solidly in enemy territory. Merely holding the city doesn’t help your chances very much.”

“We did send the nobles who were imprisoned here to the south, so the chance of reinforcements isn’t exactly zero.”

That’s what she said, but she knew they couldn’t count on getting any substantial aid.

In order for forces from the south to reach them, they would have to break through the subhumans on the southern front. And even if reinforcements somehow arrived, they’d have forty thousand subhumans to fight the moment they got here.

“Well, that would be nice.”

He didn’t seem to believe her one bit.

Well, why would he? The only way to get through this without a single casualty would be—

Neia dismissed the idea that came to mind unbidden.

The King of Darkness came to this land to fight Jaldabaoth. Making him use up his mana and lower his chances of victory would be unforgivable.

“…It’ll take a while before I can use the teleportation I used on the orcs, but the one I was using to return to the Nation of Darkness occasionally is still available. I could probably move a few dozen people, but you probably can’t choose. You probably don’t want to.”

“I’m glad you understand my feelings, Your Majesty.”

She thought maybe she should have him take Caspond away somewhere, at least. But at the same time, she wondered if that would really be a good idea.

The king of another country was braving the battlefield to confront a horrifying demon. Meanwhile, here were the leaders of her country, asking him to help a man of royal blood escape. She could hardly imagine anything more shameful.

As Neia was preoccupied with these musings, the king turned around for the first time since she had entered the room.

The red flames in his vacant orbits were facing her directly. At first, those eyes had scared her, but now that the initial shock had gone away, she actually found them rather striking.

“This is what I think, Miss Baraja. You clashing with the enemy here is a result of the foolishness your higher-ups invited. A single squire can’t overcome that. Have you considered pursuing your own interests? …If you like, my nation would accept you. Training to be a paladin, you could make use of your skills there, too, I’m sure.”

Neia hesitated, unsure how to respond.

Though she was incredibly moved by his worry for her, the thought of what she would lose if she accepted his offer made her tremble with fear.

The sacrifices her parents must have made for the sake of the kingdom.

Her love for her hometown.

A future where she would never be able to return to the country of her ancestors.

Memories of her few friends.

A whirl of thoughts bubbled up and then faded. But one remained, and it was the most important thing of all.

I’m a member of the Paladin Order.

She wasn’t sure what justice was yet, but there was one thing she could say with her head held high.

“Even so, as a subject of this kingdom, I need to save as many people as I can. It’s only natural to rescue the weak—to help those who are struggling.”

The King of Darkness stopped moving. It was so abrupt, it was as if he had been frozen.

“…Mm.”

With that murmur, he put a hand to his chin.

Apparently, what Neia said had affected him. He was watching her very closely.

But it was a totally normal thing to say…
She felt a bit awkward.

“You’re stationed on the west gate wall when the subhumans attack, right? The left side of town from here? That’s a dangerous position. You’re making a big mistake if you think I’m going to save you.”

“I’m aware of that.”

Due to her archery skills, Neia would be fighting on the front line. It was practically a given that she would die. This was war, and she had steeled her resolve.

Pursing her lips, she looked straight at him.

“Ah, those are his eyes. I like those eyes.”

He seemed to be talking to himself, but Neia blushed in spite of herself. She was sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but hearing the word
like
directed at her from someone she respected so highly did quite a number on her.

“Well…I suppose I’ll lend you some items, Miss Baraja. Use them well.”

He drew a surprisingly large object out of thin air. It had occurred to her before when he first shocked her by producing the bow in the carriage, but Neia was realizing once again the wonders of magic never ceased.

The magic item that appeared was one Neia had seen before. The green enchanted armor with the turtle-shell-esque pattern had been worn by Mighty King Buser.

“I-it’s…!”

“I’m sure this will come in handy. For your protection, I mean.”

It was too large for Neia to wear. In fact, it wasn’t human-size at all. But from what she knew about magic armor, she figured it would work out.

Refitting normal armor would require smithing. And there was a limit to how much modification could be done; frankly, resizing something this drastically would normally be impossible.

But magic armor was different. If no special conditions were needed to equip it, just about anyone could wear it. There wouldn’t be any major changes in its functionality, but it would conform to fit the user.

Theoretically, it was perfectly feasible to create a thumb-size suit of armor and later equip a giant with it. That said, the durability of the armor still depended on the amount and quality of materials used. If the armor was originally the size of a ring, its enchantment would not be even half as effective, making it weak against magic or corrosive attacks, and it would succumb easily to gear-breaking abilities.

The world simply wasn’t that convenient and lacked such obvious loopholes. If nothing else, she was sure that Buser’s armor was very durable after seeing how large it was despite no one wearing it.

“I have three other things for you.” The King of Darkness handed them over. “This crown, these gauntlets, and this necklace. They don’t overlap with anything you have, do they?”

“N-no. I didn’t have any enchanted items to begin with.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll briefly explain what they do.”

The Crown of Psychic Defense was fairly self-explanatory. It protected the user’s mind from attacks with attributes such as charm or fear. The only catch was that while it completely nullified incoming magic, it did nothing against special abilities. It was also important to note that it prevented positive effects as well.

The gauntlets were Archer’s Gauntlets. Apparently, there were some
spells that required shooting skills, and that’s why the King of Darkness originally had them made, but he later stopped using that type of magic, so all that equipment had just been languishing in storage.

And the necklace was an item that consumed mana in exchange for casting the tier-three faith magic healing spell Heavy Recovery. As long as the wearer had mana to spare, the spell could be cast any number of times, but apparently it required far more mana than the spell usually cost, so with Neia’s meager store, she figured she could reliably use it only once. She would have to be judicious with the timing. This item was not one that the king and his people made but apparently something he had bought because he found its appearance attractive.

She could see a lot of care had gone into crafting the necklace; it looked like a goddess holding a green gem. No wonder the king had found it aesthetically pleasing.

Presented with such a stunning set of items, Neia shook her head.

“M-my apologies, Your Majesty. I can’t borrow these items.”

Each of the things he was offering had to be extremely valuable. If she died in battle with them equipped, they would undoubtedly fall into the hands of the subhumans and only make the enemy stronger. Or her body could simply be lost in the tumult of war, and all the precious items would go with her. Plus, she was already borrowing the bow. Was it acceptable to take further advantage of his kindness?

If anything, she should have returned the bow before going into battle.

“Why not? They’ll be useful to you in the coming battle, you know. Well, as a warrior, you may not have enough mana to use the necklace, but it’s worth a shot.”

In response to the king’s question, Neia expressed her anxieties honestly. He answered with a chuckle.

“Then let’s do this. Go out there with the firm intention of returning them to me.”

Of course, that was her intention, but she didn’t think mindset alone would be enough to overcome the dire situation. But when she told him that, he waved her off.

“It’s fine; just take them. I have a spell that can locate my magic items. I’ll remember that you have them, and if you lose them, I’ll just cast the spell to find them.”

“Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

“I am. Now…no need to be shy. Take them.”

If he had expressions, she was sure this one would be a smile—that was how gently he spoke to her.

It would be rude to refuse such benevolence. After thinking about taking advantage and how to apologize if she lost them…

“Well? Aren’t you going to promise that you’ll return them to me?”

“!”

Come back alive.
The significance his words held made her tear up. There hadn’t been many people in Neia’s life besides her parents who had been this kind to her.

The Nation of Darkness is fortunate to be ruled by such a kind king
, she thought as she bit her lip and bowed her head.

“Thank you! I’ll be sure to return them!”

“…………Good.”

When she raised her head, she wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes.

She couldn’t immediately put on the armor, but the necklace, gauntlets, and crown she could equip right away. First, she donned the necklace.

The moment she draped it around her neck, she could sense the knowledge of how to use it flow into her as she gained the item’s ability. It felt like an extension of her own body, and just as she wasn’t frightened of her arms and legs, the sensation seemed utterly natural.

Next was the crown. There wasn’t any particularly special feeling when she put it on. But given the explanation she had heard, she figured it would be clear when something triggered it.

Finally, the gauntlets.

These, on the contrary, made for quite a vivid change.

Power welled up from inside her.

She had been on the receiving end of strength-boosting spells before, and this felt identical to that. Her movements grew faster and sharper, as if the amount of muscle in her body had suddenly increased. Not only that but she could make out smaller details, and it seemed like her heart and lung function had noticeably improved, giving her better stamina.

It was almost as if her body had suddenly gotten much stronger.

“Wow…”

She hardly noticed changes that resulted from training, since those increases were incremental. But this was such a dramatic improvement in ability that it was impossible to ignore.

The other surprising thing was that she didn’t feel any incongruity between herself of a moment ago and now; it had been a seamless transition.

“Magic is amazing…”

Hearing her murmur, the King of Darkness shrugged. “It sure is. Magic for daily life is what surprised me.”

“It did?”

“Because you can make stuff like sugar and pepper. It’s possible to produce ice, and you can even create ores, though it’s supposedly not worth the mana. Magic items can provide daily essentials and even fulfill an entire city’s water needs… It seems like those sorts of objects play a big role in the development of this world’s culture.”

“Oh…do you think so?”

She didn’t understand why a caster as great as the King of Darkness would be surprised by something so ordinary. But if he believed it, she had no reason to doubt it was the truth. And she readily acknowledged that everyday magic really did come in handy in all sorts of ways. Without it, quite a lot of regular activities would become rather arduous.

“The sewers that make use of slimes—or rather, the way they coexist within… Ah, I’ve started rambling. You’ve probably got better things to do, Miss Baraja. Don’t worry—I won’t keep you from your work.”

Frankly, it wasn’t unreasonable to say that she considered nothing more important than being his aide, but given that the defenders needed all the help they could get, there actually was quite a lot for Neia to do. Keeping
watch was her main task—something anyone could do, but nonetheless critical.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll make sure to come back alive.”

“Right. If you get in trouble, run for the east gate. I imagine that’s the only place you’ll manage to survive.”

With Buser’s armor in hand, Neia bowed and left the king’s room.

In the war room, Remedios Custodio was meeting with three other paladins to consider how to best allocate their troops.

Contrary to how Remedios tended to bungle almost everything else, she had a keen edge when it came to battle. Her little sister would say,
There’s nothing wrong with your brain; you just need to study
, but if she had listened to that advice, she probably never would’ve excelled to this degree in all things related to combat.

She was different from her sister, who was endowed with intelligence, aptitude, and beauty.

We have ten thousand. Estimates put our opponents at forty thousand. Victory conditions are either holding out until reinforcements arrive from the south or forcing the enemy army to retreat… Maybe if there were ten of me, we would have a chance…

If the members of the Nine Colors, chosen for their strength, had been present, the defenders might have been able to put up a decent fight, but the reality was harsh.

For any chance of buying time, we need to counter the enemy’s first attack in a way that will deal major damage. That should put them on guard and give us a little breathing room. The enemy shouldn’t have any way of knowing the true size of our force.

There was also serious consideration given to the idea of launching a preemptive strike.

That would involve concentrating their troops at the east gate and sallying out to annihilate the enemy forces there in one fell swoop. After that, they could shift to the west gate.

But the outcome of any attack was clear. Such a plan would no doubt end in failure. They wouldn’t be able to defeat the small detachment of enemies in the east before the enemies’ main force breached the west gate, which would mean the fall of the city.

The disparity in numbers was a real problem. In order to win, they had to find a way to close that gap.

But there’s no chance of that happening.

Remedios frowned and moved the pawns on the map arbitrarily.

She was hoping for a flash of inspiration. But no path to salvation revealed itself.

“Any good ideas, guys?”

“Well, I…”

After listening to the other paladins’ proposals, rejecting them, asking for more, and repeating that cycle, everyone had run out of ideas. A heavy silence had descended on the room when there came a knock at the door.

To Remedios, it felt like being saved by the bell.

“So this is where you were, Commander.”

The one who had entered was her deputy Gustav Montagnés. His timing couldn’t have been better. Everyone else in the room seemed to feel the same way, given how their gloomy expressions brightened slightly with hope.

“Yes, and you’ve come at a perfect moment. I want you to give me your thoughts on the situation.”

She jerked her chin toward the map of the city spread out on the table. He glanced in that direction briefly and seemed to quickly grasp what she was getting at after a moment.

“If I have any, I’m more than happy to offer them all. But before that, I have a few things to get your thoughts on, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmm? Why would I mind? Go ahead.”

“Very well…” Gustav lowered his voice slightly. “To be frank, there’s been an inconvenient development; some of the citizens are requesting that the King of Darkness participate in the battle.”

The King of Darkness was not planning to fight this time. He needed to recover the mana he had expended, and they were still on guard against the possibility that Jaldabaoth was scheming to force him into using more here.

Her sister, Kelart, recovered mana in a day, so the former reason didn’t sit right with Remedios. But when the king said it was problematic to compare the amount of mana he had used retaking the city with the same amount a human had, everyone else accepted the explanation, so she didn’t bring it up again; as there had been priests present, she had no reason to think otherwise if everyone else found it reasonable.

The latter reason, meanwhile, was one Remedios could heartily agree with.

Who could say whether Jaldabaoth was hiding within the subhuman army?

They had brought the king here to fight Jaldabaoth. Remedios would be happy if they took each other out, but it wasn’t as if she wanted the king to lose. It made sense for her, even though she absolutely hated the undead, to make sure he could fight at full power. The few nobles in the city offered to pay what they could—a sum that made even Remedios’s eyes bulge—if the king would participate in the battle despite his protests, but he still refused.

“Well, what’s the problem? We already know that he won’t be fighting. Just be up-front with the people.”

“Commander, I can’t tell them that. If we’re unlucky—or not even—there’s a chance that this will set off something much worse.”

“Why?”

She couldn’t understand. What was the problem with him not participating?

Gustav frowned in reply to her innocent question.

“The people who witnessed us retake the city saw that what’s impossible for the paladins on their own is easily within the realm of possibility if the king is helping.”

She really didn’t see what he was getting at.

“It’s not a pleasant thing to admit, but it’s true, right? What’s the problem?”

“The key point is they trust the King of Darkness more than they trust us. If they find out the person they believe to be the strongest one present isn’t participating in the defense of the city, morale will drop like a rock.”

“Trust him…? He’s an undead!”

“True, but he’s also the one who liberated the city and rescued the prisoners. To them, the King of Darkness is a hero.”

“A hero?” she shot back while blinking furiously. “They think
he’s
a hero? An undead, hater of life, lover of death? He abandoned hostages—no, it’s fair to say he outright killed them!”

“Even so. At least they still only consider him a hero. At the rate we’re going, it might not be long before the people will begin to see him as their savior. Or even the holy king’s—”

“—The Holy Lady’s.” Remedios grimaced. “I’ve said this countless times, but Holy Lady Calca is being held prisoner somewhere. I’m sure of it. After the battle with Jaldabaoth, there were paladins and priests strewn all over, but Kelart and the Holy Lady were nowhere to be found. If they really were dead, there would have been no reason to take the corpses. He must be planning to use them as hostages.”

“I beg your pardon, Commander, but we’re at the point that the Holy Lady may have trouble governing.”

“What do you mean?”

“…We allowed the wall to be breached and were on watch when the subhumans poured over our borders. There will be those who wish to serve an absolute ruler who can guarantee them protection.”

“But he’s… He’s an undead!”

“I’m repeating myself, but that doesn’t matter. He is the one who rescued them from their suffering!”

Remedios could not accept this point.

“He wasn’t the only one fighting! We were there under the Holy Lady’s banner, weren’t we?”

“Yes, we were. We and the citizens all fought. But even taking that into
account, if the king achieves further successes, he will only rise in popularity, and I fear many will welcome him as their new ruler.”

“What?!” Remedios shouted. “Why would that happen?! Who would consider him not just a hero but superior to the Holy Lady?! What are you even saying, man?!”

“But from the people’s point of view—”

“How could anyone in their right mind think that about an undead?! Do they know how hard the Holy Lady has worked, the sacrifices she’s made to make them happy? The people—”

“Please, Commander!”

“How can I stay silent?! Tell me how, Gustav! Are you being serious right now?!”

Swept up in a torrent of violent emotion, Remedios pounded her fists on the table.

A living legend herself, she struck with prodigious force. Her blow was so powerful that it tore clean through the table, sending only what she touched flying to the ground. The strange deformation, looking like a giant had pinched the edge of the table and pulled, spoke volumes to her fury.

“Commander, please calm down! We know how great and compassionate the Holy Lady is. There’s no way an undead could compare! But we know that because we were close to her!”

“Are you a buffoon?! Just because they never had an audience with her doesn’t mean people would respect an undead from another nation more than the leader of their own country. You’re jumping to conclusions!”

“Commander!” he practically shrieked. “The King of Darkness is the monarch of another nation and an undead, but he freed them from their pain! That was something that we—that the Holy Lady—couldn’t do for them!”

After Gustav shouted all that in a rush, the only sound that filled the room was his panting.

“…What do you guys think?”

When Remedios quietly addressed the other paladins in the room, they exchanged glances. Then one of them answered after summoning up the courage to speak.

“We certainly don’t think of the King of Darkness as a hero. But we were aware that there are some commoners who feel that way.”

Then another spoke.

“Many people know he took the city with the help of only one other—on his own, really. And as word of mouth spreads the story to people who didn’t witness the fight, he’s only becoming more lionized.”

And another.

“It’s true that the King of Darkness came on his own to the aid of a country in crisis that isn’t even an ally or friend. If you ignore the fact that he’s an undead…it’s quite a heroic thing to do.”

It seemed Remedios was the only one who couldn’t accept the truth. Knowing that, what was the right way to answer Gustav’s question?

Certainly, if a hero refused to participate in battle, morale among the defenders would drop, and it could lead to a serious issue developing if the people were left to wonder why. The enemy outnumbered them four to one. Considering the mental stress of standing against that army with those odds, perhaps getting upset was only natural.

“…Then if the king becomes a villain, we’ll have killed two birds with one stone. What if we told the people he had no intention of helping us anymore?”

“Such a lie would be quite damaging,” said Gustav. “The mental state of the people is like a dam ready to burst. If they learned the truth at some point and realized we had deceived them, there would be no coming back.”

“But we could tell them in a way that it wouldn’t be a lie.”

“If the people consider it a lie, that’s what it’ll be, no?”

“Then we just have to prevent the king from ever meeting them.”

“…If a riot broke out and someone asked explicitly to meet him, would you kill them?”

“…I don’t want to do that.”

Gustav heaved a sigh. “We’re out of moves. The King of Darkness has already done too much. It wouldn’t have come to this if we had been able to take back the city on our own… In the worst case, the country might
actually split. If the King of Darkness was to declare this land to be an enclave of his nation, who would be able to stop him?”

“This country belongs to the Holy Lady and the people who live here, not to some undead! Do you think the neighboring countries would even accept that in the first place?” She slammed her fists against the table again.

Gustav replied calmly but firmly. “Yes, I think they would. You saw them, too…the monsters in that city. No state would want to have a nation with such terrifying military power as an enemy. To them, it would be smarter to turn their backs on us as we slip from power… And if he claimed an enclave in our lands, that would mean the Nation of Darkness would have to split its forces to defend its new holdings, which many of the surrounding countries would see as advantageous. And if the locals wish for it, the king would have the perfect justification to follow through.”

“…You mean they’d rather be part of an undead country than one that can’t protect its people, sir?”

Gustav nodded and answered the paladin’s question. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Tell me, Gustav, was it a mistake for me to bring him here?”

“No, Commander. At the time, it was the best choice. But it’s true that we’ve relied on his power too much. Like I said before, if we had managed to liberate those two prison camps on our own, things wouldn’t have turned out like this. The masses might have still been frightened of the King of Darkness and harbored hostility toward him.”

“…What should we do?”

“We’ll think of something to tell the people, buy some time, and then repel that huge army without the king’s help. If we can’t manage that…the fighting might continue even if Jaldabaoth is defeated in the future.”

Remedios stared up at the ceiling.

“…Then I guess that’s what we have to do. That King of Darkness… I wonder if he had this in mind all along.”

“I don’t know… I honestly don’t. But he may have calculated that much out.”

“So he might have ambitions to expand his holdings? The Nation of Darkness is pretty small, right?”

“I don’t think it’s quite that small, but it’s just one city and its surroundings, plus lowlands where the undead are said to spawn in large numbers.”

It was easy to conclude that was the main motivation.

“That awful undead! We should have just gotten Momon’s help.”

“The same thing might have happened with Momon. But he probably wouldn’t have had the impact the King of Darkness has. Seeing a king come alone leaves a deep impression. Plus the fact that he’s an undead, someone who should be our country’s natural enemy.”

So if it’s a bad guy who does something good, he looks extra good?

“…Shit.”

When she realized, in the silent room, that Gustav was asking her opinion, she gave him instructions.

“Let’s consult Master Caspond. If—yes,
if
because I doubt it’s true, but
if
the Holy Lady has perished, then he would be next in line, right?”

“None of the other royals have been found, so yes. Let’s do that.”

Leaving the other paladins, Remedios took Gustav and went to Caspond’s chamber.

The conclusion they reached was to do as Gustav had proposed: delay their response to the people, and when the enemy attacked them in the meantime, they would defeat the besieging army without relying on the King of Darkness’s power and demonstrate that the Sacred Kingdom could still be counted on.

3

Major movement has been detected in the subhuman camp
—the report told Neia that the time had finally come.

This was, without a doubt, a sign of an impending attack.

Clad in the items she’d borrowed from the King of Darkness, she raced through the city.

She knew the people she passed were staring at her with wide eyes.

They were captivated by the splendid bow and shocked to see her wearing armor that had belonged to the previous ruler of the city, Mighty King Buser. With her sharp ears, Neia could hear people murmuring, “Who’s that warrior?” She also heard their responses: “The King of Darkness’s attendant” or “A lady from the Nation of Darkness.”

I’m not from the Nation of Darkness, though…

Whenever she heard mistaken information like this, she both wanted and didn’t want to know what kind of rumors were going around. If there was one that would cause trouble for the king, she would have to make a clear denial.

But “the King of Darkness’s attendant,” huh…?

The thought made her sort of happy, and she found herself laughing under her breath—which made the people she was passing by scream.

I realize I look like my dad, but come on…

With those things on her mind, Neia was racing for her position on the wall by the west gate, which was also where most of the subhuman troops were massing.

Eighty percent of the paladins, priests, servicemen, and able-bodied males were stationed at the west gate and adjacent wall. The other 20 percent were at the east gate, while the women, children, elderly, and other noncombatants were assigned to keep watch on the northern and southern stretches of the city walls.

Remedios Custodio was in command at the west gate and Gustav Montagnés at the east gate, while the commander in chief was Caspond Bessarez. Of course, the commander in chief was stationed at the commanders’ lodge in the city and didn’t venture outside.

It wasn’t long before Neia could see the west gate come into view.

The portcullis the King of Darkness had blown to pieces was a part of the east gate, so the west gate was intact. Still, subhuman strength easily
surpassed that of most humans. If they rammed the gate with a huge tree, it wouldn’t be hard for them to break it down.

Neia clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.

If this position was breached and the enemy flowed in through the opening, it would quickly become impossible to contain the attackers, and the city would fall in short order.

If that happened, Neia would have no way to flee and would probably end up dying in battle against countless subhumans.

She brought a shaking hand to her mouth and bit it.

Calm down! Otherwise, you won’t even be able to make the easy shots!

The magic item the King of Darkness had lent her would guard against magic attacks that targeted her mind, but it couldn’t help her with the fear that came from within. Still, if she wasn’t wearing it, she probably would’ve been even more terrified.

Feeling the throbbing in her bitten finger, she entered the tower that was on the left when looking out from the city and bounded up the stairs leading to the top of the wall two at a time.

Coming from her meeting with the King of Darkness, Neia was the last to arrive, it seemed (with permission from her superiors, of course, so no one would complain). The many citizens who had been gathered to defend this location were already there.

As she was about to hurry to her designated position, the paladin in charge of the west gate’s left flank stood in her way.

“The King of Darkness doesn’t seem to be here…”

For a moment, Neia looked at the holy knight’s face in confusion. She had told her superiors he wouldn’t be participating in this battle. For the paladin to bring this up now…did that mean he hadn’t heard?

But Neia realized right away that wasn’t the case. He must have harbored a shred of hope the king would change his mind at the last minute and come.

Neia studied the army of subhumans arrayed outside the city. There were over thirty thousand of them, but their overwhelming presence made it seem like there were more.

Up against an army like that, she could understand the temptation of hoping the peerless King of Darkness would show up. Honestly, she felt the same, but…

“His Majesty isn’t coming. This is our, the Sacred Kingdom’s, fight.”

The paladin hesitated for a moment.

Neia slipped past him to run to her position when—

“Wait, Squire Neia Baraja!”

“Sir!” She halted and straightened up.

“I want you to stand by here for now.”

“What?!”

She glanced around. This was near where the tower opened up onto the wall. There was an awful lot of people coming and going. Wouldn’t she simply be in the way? And it was quite far from her appointed position near the center.

“M-may I ask why? Is there something you need me to do?”

“N-no, it’s not that, just… There’s a bit of an issue… Squire Baraja, you’re to stand by. Got it?”

“Uh, okay…”

She didn’t understand, but he must have had a reason. Otherwise, he wouldn’t put a soldier with proper training in a place like this when the battle could start anytime.

Was my assignment changed? Like they want me to snipe the enemy commander or something? It’s easy to tell at a glance that the bow the King of Darkness lent me is high-quality equipment, so maybe they want to keep me in reserve as a sort of trump card?

“Understood. How long shall I wait? And where should I stand by?”

“Uh, hmm. Until the enemy attack begins, I guess. And for the position…”

“Huh? You want me to cut it that close?”

Yeah, this is weird
, Neia was thinking, perplexed, when several militiamen came up the stairs carrying a huge pot. It was probably food for those already standing by on the wall. She could tell from how much they were sweating despite the cold that they had already made several trips—a matter of course when there were hundreds of mouths to feed.

When she moved against the wall to make way for them, they bustled past in front of her. But one of them glanced up and saw her face.

He looked surprised.

She thought it might have been because she resembled her father, but that wasn’t it.

“Huh? You’re the one always hanging around the King of Darkness, aren’t you? I mean, you’re his attendant, right?”

“Oh, that’s why… Er, I beg your pardon. Yes, I’m His Majesty’s aide.”

Perhaps the other men carrying the pot overheard their conversation because they stopped to stare at her in surprise as well. Probably for the same reason as the one talking to her.

The thought that everyone knew her as the king’s attendant was embarrassing, but she also felt proud.

Having no idea what sorts of emotions he had invoked, the militiaman asked somewhat hesitantly, “Actually, there’s something I’d like to know about him—”

“—Wait! Er, I mean, hang on a second. She’s busy. Please continue with what you were doing.” The paladin abruptly jumped between her and the men.

That was a bizarre reaction. No matter how she looked at it, she could tell he obviously didn’t want her talking to the troops, but…

Does this have something to do with his earlier order? He doesn’t want to let me talk to them… But why? Because they were asking about the King of Darkness?

She didn’t know the reason, but it would be easy to reach the answer.

“I’m fine. What can I help you with?”

If the paladin didn’t want them to talk to her, then she just had to talk to them.

“Squire Baraja!”

“Are you interrupting a question about the King of Darkness?!” she shot back at the same volume he had been shouting at.

Frankly, it was shameful to keep leaning on the king’s reputation, but
she figured she should confirm that the Sacred Kingdom wasn’t trying to undermine him. She didn’t want them to behave so ungratefully.

Neia spoke kindly to the militiaman—though she knew that even if she treated him kindly, he would still be frightened of her.

“If it’s about the great King of Darkness, I’ll answer with whatever I know. That said, I’m not from the Nation of Darkness, so there are a lot of things I don’t understand in detail.”

“Huh?! But I thought you—er, m’lady—came from the Nation of Darkness!”

“Huh?! N-no, I’m a squire of the Sacred Kingdom’s paladins.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes! And I’m not a ‘lady’ or anything…”

A storm of chatter ensued. Looking around, she saw that everyone stationed on the wall had turned to watch them, perhaps drawn by her shouting match with the paladin.

It was a rather awkward situation, but since the King of Darkness had come up, she couldn’t let it end embarrassingly. She puffed out her chest, thinking she might as well let all the soldiers hear. The paladin, for his part, seemed to have realized he couldn’t suppress the dialogue anymore and simply glared at her in irritation.

“Huh, then first of all…I think that armor is the same armor the boss of the goat monsters was wearing. Did you defeat him?”

“No. The King of Darkness slayed Mighty King Buser with a single magic spell.”

“
Ooh
,” the crowd marveled.

Mixed in were comments like, “That monster?!” “With one spell? Nah…,” “He really took the city on his own…from all those subhumans…,” “Whoa… I might be in love…,” and “He’s not like the undead I know…”

Maybe they were whispering to one another or murmuring under their breath, but with Neia’s sharp ears, she could hear them.

It really felt good to have other people respect him as much as she did. It made her especially happy that they shared her feelings despite knowing he was an undead.

His Majesty’s actions do mean something. There are people out there who understand.

“S-so is His Majesty going to save us again?”

In a complete reversal, the buzzing gallery fell silent. That reaction told Neia instantly that this question was the heart of the matter.

“…His Majesty the King of Darkness won’t be participating in this battle. This is a fight the people of the Sacred Kingdom must take up to save our own country, not something that should be left to another country’s king. And he needs to conserve mana for his eventual duel with Jaldabaoth.”

The faces of the men listening to her fell. Neia braced for angry shouts to fly, but—

“That makes sense… Normally, a king wouldn’t go to another country on his own. If we can’t be thankful for what he’s already done for us, what would that make us?”

“Yeah. And if it’s because he needs to conserve his energy to fight Jaldabaoth, well…”

“…That king has a heart of stone, but he’s also a man—er, undead—who chose the path that saved the most people… So if he’s not fighting now, it must be for the same reason. I saw what he did that time, you know.”

“Yeah, I did, too. And we’re the ones who value this country the most. I’ll be the one to protect my wife!”

“What are you talking about?”

“We got saved before this city was liberated, and…”

Neia could hear approving comments springing up.

Some were surely upset that the king wouldn’t save them. But the fact that there were more who accepted his line of thinking warmed Neia’s heart.

“May I take up my post now?” she asked the paladin. She understood perfectly well why he hadn’t wanted her to before. That shouldn’t have been an issue any longer.

Without even attempting to hide his sour expression, he curtly told her to go.

Passing by the soldiers murmuring about the King of Darkness, she reached her post and gazed out at the enemy camp.

Before her was a massive army, a force that seemed capable of swallowing them up whole. And it was about to attack them.

Her stomach felt like it was about to turn upside down.

Had her father felt this way any number of times when he stood on the fortress line at the border?

Neia peered up, musing that the cloudy sky seemed to mirror how she felt.

It was afternoon when the subhuman army began to move in earnest.

Neia gulped down her porridge.

Due to the winter conditions outdoors, the barley warmed in hot milk had already gone cold by the time the bowl it was in made it to Neia’s hands, and to be frank, it tasted pretty awful. But if she didn’t eat, she wouldn’t last long in this crucial battle. Besides, it wasn’t as if there were any other food options. Additionally, though there were reserves, she didn’t think relief would be coming anytime soon, so she figured it would be quite a while before she would have an opportunity to eat again. That was also why the lunch portions were so large.

Using a crude wooden spoon, she shoveled the white mush of the milky barley porridge into her mouth and forced it all down.

Though it was plenty enough to fill her stomach, the thought that this gross meal might be her last was depressing.

Neia took the cloth from around her shoulders, balled it up, and put it on the parapet facing the subhumans. Then she protected herself from the cold with a gray coat. Though the militiamen had started eating at the same time she had, they were still slurping their porridge.

Everyone had downcast faces. There couldn’t be anyone who found that flavor particularly pleasant. But there was nothing to be done about it.

And the porridge probably wasn’t the only reason they looked so gloomy. Their mood wasn’t being dragged down by their food but the subhumans who were beginning to stir.

Faced with the violence of overwhelming numbers, it was impossible to feel anything approaching hope.

And the former prisoners who had already endured so much suffering at the hands of the subhuman conquerors were branded with a distinct fear. It was not surprising that the stress made many of them lose their appetite.

What would His Majesty the King of Darkness do in this situation?

Would he have given a rousing speech to boost morale? Or laughed it off?

Neia couldn’t imagine what sort of heroic action he would take. But even if she could have, she wouldn’t have been able to replicate it. She was neither a hero nor a king.

And these guys probably wouldn’t want to be subjected to Neia’s attempts to lift the mood. Besides, a certain amount of tension could work in their favor.

The most important thing was that despite their dark expressions, they didn’t appear to have given in to despair or seem like they were ready to break and flee. They had whatever it was that made a person a determined soldier.

The reason for that was a story that some people, who seemed to be liberated prisoners, had spread about the King of Darkness. Word had traveled like the wind through the militia stationed on the wall.

A story about the difference in the value of lives.

The people who learned secondhand that the king had killed hostages along with their captors wore a uniform look of disgust.
A heartless thing to do, typical of an undead
, many thought. But the people who had been there argued they were wrong. Even the great, matchless King of Darkness said he would end up losing everything, too, if he encountered someone with more power than him.

Neia remembered it. He had seemed terribly human with his determined resolve that even carried a hint of tragedy. It was indescribably persuasive, backed by an intense drive to protect what was important to him.

And it made everyone remember what would happen to the people important to them if this battle was to end in defeat.

Their will to fight was strengthened by the powerful resolve to never again let their loved ones suffer so hellishly.

Could His Majesty have known back then that this was how things would turn out…?

Without those words to steel the people’s resolve, the army might have given up before the battle even began and collapsed.

Neia had only seen the Holy Lady once. She knew hardly anything about her personality or abilities. But she could already declare that the King of Darkness was superior. No, perhaps of all those known as kings, the King of Darkness was supreme.

“In the Nation of Darkness…the people are ruled by an undead, and I felt sorry for them, but…”
They might be happy…
Unable to say the words aloud, Neia rolled them around on her tongue. It wasn’t something she could let anyone hear her say. Just then…

“Enemy advancing! All those assigned to defend this location, prepare for battle!” a voice in the distance shouted.

Everyone inhaled the rest of their porridge and took up their positions.

When the army of more than ten thousand moved all at once, the air itself shook, and it almost seemed to make the wall sway. Neia felt as though the pressure of their advance alone threatened to crush her.

And amid the clamor of the earthshaking march, Neia could pick up the hoarse shrieks of militiamen with her sharp ears.

Their morale was flagging.

But there wasn’t anything Neia could do about that, and she wasn’t high-ranking enough to try even if she did have an idea. Neia’s sole role was to barrage the enemy with arrows as soon as they were in range.

Since the city’s liberation, any moment she wasn’t occupied attending the king she spent on training with her bow. Thanks to her efforts, she had grasped the quirks of Ultimate Shooting Star: Super and had grown fairly confident of her accuracy.

But why are the subhumans making their move in the middle of the day? They would have had the advantage if they attacked at night… Do they have a specific goal in mind? …If His Majesty was here, I would be able to ask what he thought…

Without the caster who had walked in front as if to guide her or stayed near as if he didn’t want her to be alone, Neia felt sad, as though she was missing something essential.

No. I can’t rely on him too much. I need to stand on my own two feet… Anyhow, I may not know what it is, but the subhumans must have some reason for attacking during daylight. I can’t let my guard down.

Frowning at the enemy army from her perch on the parapet, Neia felt her eyes drawn to the subhumans leading the advance.

“…Huh? Those are…”

At the head of the enemy forces were ogres nearly ten feet tall. They were equipped with massive weapons.

They were ballistae with what seemed like wooden shields fixed to the front. The size was appropriate considering how massive the ogres were, but they were probably large enough to make them useful as siege weapons. Normally they would be set up and fired from a stationary position, but these ogres were carrying them in their hands. There was a whole row of them.

Had they plundered some city and modified them so they could be fired from a standing position?

At the sound of a giant drum, the ogres readied their ballistae.

Then—

—the wall shook with undeniable force. In some places, the parapet even crumbled a bit. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone had been killed, but that was the only silver lining.

The huge bolts that had struck the parapet would probably more accurately be described as lances. Thick missiles that seemed longer than Neia was tall had been launched at high speed at the city wall, driving deep into the stone. At this point, they could be considered only siege weapons. There was a mere handful of humans in the whole world who could take a hit from one of those and still live.

She saw the ogres readying their second volley.

“Crap!” Neia scowled.

The ogres were too far away.

Given the poundage of her bow, her arrows would probably make it.
Unfortunately, the energy of her shots would have greatly decreased by the time they reached their targets. What’s more, she hadn’t been able to practice hitting targets at such a range while cooped up inside the city. Since it was an unfamiliar distance, she wasn’t confident she could reliably land a killing shot between the wooden shields of the ogres.

It wouldn’t have been strange for a city of this size to have its own ballistae, but the bufolk who had been in charge until the other day had destroyed them all, and there was no timeline for their repair.

At this rate, the only way they could crush the ballista unit would be to open the gates and engage in a field battle, but that would be the height of folly.

That meant they had no choice but to stay on the receiving end of these uncontested attacks.

All we can do is take shelter…but then we won’t be able to stop the assault. What kind of strategy will our superiors come up with?

For the moment, all the subhumans were doing was shooting, but if the soldiers fell back from the wall, the subhumans would surely advance and occupy it. Once the enemy took control of the wall, the fall of the city wouldn’t be far off.

By that point, the attackers would only need to hold the stairs leading to the wall and push their way through the remaining soldiers to open the gate, welcoming the main force into the city. All they had to do was muscle through each step in order. There was no way for the humans to stop them. It would be chaos within moments, and even Remedios wouldn’t be able to last once she was surrounded on all sides.

At that point, the people’s only choice would be to abandon the city and flee south, with Neia and the other survivors serving as a rear guard; however, as they had concluded in the strategy meeting, that course of action would simply lead to the enemy catching up with them on the plain partway to safety or end with the attackers joining up with their allies currently facing off against the southern army to deliver an even more devastating strategic blow.

What will the paladin commanding at the west gate choose?

Retreat? Or a battle of attrition where we fight to the bitter end?

As those thoughts occupied Neia’s mind, the enemies loosed their second volley.

The lancelike bolts slammed into the wall, causing another large jolt. It surely wasn’t her imagination that this felt more severe than the first impact. At the same time, she heard an indecipherable cry.

“Ogoboahhhh!”

When she turned toward the source, a horrific scene filled her eyes.

One of the bolts had pierced the parapet and skewered the soldier taking cover behind it. Bloody froth poured from his mouth. After twitching for a few moments, he crumpled like a rag doll. Actually, he couldn’t crumple because he was pinned by the thick bolt like an insect specimen, so his limbs just went slack.

What a horrible way to die. Several people screamed.

Neia squeezed the necklace the King of Darkness had lent her and bit her lip.

That was a fatal wound. There was no saving him, even with healing magic.

One militiaman could die without compromising the integrity of their formation. But the death sent out ripples of intense fear. The reality that
I could be next
—that this wasn’t merely someone else’s problem—triggered survival instincts all along the line. Many were trembling.

“Under Divine Flag!”

It was a spell.

With that, the militiamen’s nerves instantly settled. The magic had boosted their resistance to fear. The faith magic spell Lion’s Heart would give full protection, but it could be cast only on an individual. Under Divine Flag worked on everyone within a certain radius centered on the caster.

That was why there were paladins among the common rank and file.

“Don’t be afraid!” cried the one who had cast the spell. “Take up your arms to rescue the suffering!”

If it had been fear forced on them by a spell or skill, they might have been lost to it, but the fear assailing them simply came from within. With
their terror suppressed by the spell, their eyes blazed with determination once more.

But that was only a distraction. They still had to figure out how to prevent untold thousands of subhumans from overwhelming them. If they didn’t do something soon, they were nothing more than casualties waiting to happen. Sadly, Neia didn’t have any bright ideas.

“Take cover! Ammunition runs out! They can’t have brought that many!”

Ah
, thought Neia. Most of the supplies the enemy had seized must have been taken south for the fight against the large southern army. There was a good chance the forces surrounding them weren’t left much. While the ballistae themselves were out of the question, someone with the right skills could supply them with quite a lot of ammunition, so that assumption was a bit of a gamble.

The third volley came.

The ogres weren’t used to shooting bolts, and many of them missed. Even so, the latest attack had damaged much of the parapet, and several more militiamen died.

The giant lancelike bolts had no trouble going through their initial victims and impaling those unlucky enough to be behind them as well.

Under Divine Flag was an area-of-effect spell. That meant the soldiers had to gather around the paladin in order to gain its protection. That wasn’t going very well for them.

Before the enemy could launch a fourth volley, angels swooped overhead.

They were the lowest tier of angel, but they went straight for the subhuman ranks. In their right hands were lit torches, and in their left hands, urns with a piece of fabric hanging over the lip of each one. Without a doubt, the urns contained either oil or strong alcohol.

In other words, they were equipped with firebombs that would explode on impact.

Of course, these bombs wouldn’t so much as singe an enemy with resistance to fire, and it was unclear if they would have much effect against
subhumans with large bodies and thick skins or those who had honed their skills and abilities.

But on the other hand, some beings were vulnerable to fire, and if the ballistae were damaged, the barrage would cease.

The angels positioned themselves over the ogres carrying ballistae and lit their urns. But predictably, they weren’t given the time to drop them.

Several subhumans spread their wings and rose into the air. It was a contingent of pteroposes. Their arms had webbing that formed wings of skin. The way they soared upward without flapping must have been the work of some magical power.

At the same time, something like a white net flew toward the angels and quickly tangled around them. It must have been created with a spidan special ability.

Like butterflies trapped in a spider’s web, the angels were incapacitated and plummeted to the earth, where they were immediately surrounded. It went without saying what happened to them.

But the angels didn’t go down without a fight.

Some of the urns hit the ground, scattering flames.

Up to this point, the shields attached to the ballistae prevented Neia from getting a good shot at the ogres. It would have been hard to deal a killing blow if she took aim at an unprotected area, like their feet.

Her father could have probably threaded an arrow through the tiniest crack and still hit an ogre right in the eyes, but Neia didn’t have that kind of ability. That being said, either because they hated the firebombs or were afraid their weapons would burn, the ogres had lifted the ballistae up, which left the shields facing the sky. On top of that, they were distracted by the flames, not paying Neia even the slightest bit of attention.

This was as good a chance as she would ever get.

Neia drew her bowstring as far back as it would go and loosed an arrow.

The enchanted items she had borrowed from the King of Darkness boosted her skills to the point that they started to approach her father’s.

The arrow crossed a surprising distance, and her aim was true, striking an ogre in the head.

She had wanted to avoid the hard cranium and pierce the soft eyeball instead. She knew some monsters had films that protected their eyes, but she figured the shot still had a higher chance of being fatal than a blow to the skull.

But it didn’t go quite as she had hoped.

Her arrow was sticking out of the ogre’s jaw.

She saw it roar and shake in pain.

The ogre dropped its ballista and held a hand to its face near where it had been hit. Then it began to stagger away, its back to Neia. She hadn’t delivered a fatal blow, but she had chipped away at its will to fight.

If the subhumans had someone who could heal, the ogre would be back on the battlefield in no time.

“Tch!”

Even with the splendid magic items she had borrowed from the King of Darkness, this was all Neia was capable of.

With a click of her tongue, she ducked behind the parapet. Hugging the wall, she began to change locations. When she noticed the militiamen were surprised to see someone leaving their post, she addressed them in a firm tone. “Run! There’s going to be a counterattack!”

It wasn’t as if the subhumans had heard Neia’s shout, but retaliatory ballista shots followed soon after. Sure enough, many of them flew way off mark, but a handful hit the wall and cracked the parapet where she had been standing.

If her luck had been any worse, she might have been impaled right then and there.

When she peeked out from behind new cover, she confirmed that the confusion from the angels’ fire attack was dying down and the ogres were aiming their ballistae once again.

Word had probably spread that someone with a crossbow had shot at them, so they wouldn’t make the same mistake of raising their shields again. Should she expose herself for a follow-up attack and hope that she would conveniently develop skills comparable to her father’s? Or should she be like a turtle and bide her time until another chance came along?

As she hesitated on what to do next, the bow from the King of Darkness caught the sunlight and glimmered majestically.

You don’t get points for being reckless.

Right. She was borrowing a valuable weapon. She had to do everything in her power to return it. This wasn’t the time to be taking dangerous gambles.

They can’t have that many of those special bolts!

The subhumans were apparently trying to destroy the parapet and were launching a continuous stream of the oversize bolts. But their aim was all over the place, meaning their shots often landed in random places off target, and some even disappeared into the city without hitting any part of the wall.

She would keep a low profile and wait for the enemy attack to end.

As she lay low, broken bits of wall occasionally rained down on her. Every now and then, an unfortunate militia member was struck by a bolt and died instantly. All she could do was silently pray for the attack to end.

Eventually the
boom
of the drum sounded once. Then it rang out four more times in succession. In the distance, probably somewhere along the enemy’s left wing, she heard the same pattern.

…The number of drumbeats signals what plan they’re executing. It’s how the left and right wings stay in communication. If I could infiltrate the enemy lines, steal a drum, and beat it randomly, I could disrupt the— No, that would be impossible…

The subhumans had to be aware of the drums’ importance. They would inevitably be heavily guarded. Who would be able to set foot anywhere near them?

If an adventurer was here, maybe they could use Invisibility and Silence to wreak some havoc.

Not that there’s any point in wishing for what we don’t have…

At any rate, it was clear that the enemy was up to something new. Neia—and most of the militia for that matter—cautiously peeked through gaps in the battered parapet.

A stifled commotion broke out.

Astonishment, terror, and seething anger.

The massive army that had been standing by on the other side of the
wall had begun to advance. The right and left wings of the subhumans maintained their ranks and simply marched forward. Their center advanced in wedge formation, ready to smash through the gate.

Eager to kill all the defenders, the subhumans charged, their footfalls practically shaking the earth itself.

Another group—a smaller one—was circling around to the side. Were they planning on climbing over the wall at a different location? Or was it a feint?

In any case, the enemy’s attack had entered phase two. What came next wouldn’t be one side simply taking potshots at the other. A battle where blood would flow on both sides was about to begin.

But that wasn’t the problem. The humans weren’t happy at all even though this was the development they had been waiting for. What enraged the militia along the walls was seeing the mixed units at the front of each wing made up of all different races. The units lacked discipline, but they had two things in common.

One was that they carried ladders for rushing the wall.

These were scaling parties, the enemies Neia and the others would be fighting in moments.

And the other was that they had human children strapped to their bodies.

Some of the children cried and wailed; others were limp and exhausted. All were naked, and all were alive.

Neia pursed her lips tightly.

Surprisingly, she was utterly calm.

Keeping an eye on the encroaching wave of subhumans, she slipped an arrow out of her quiver and nocked it.

Even when the front of the formation came into range, she waited.

It was still too soon.

After a few deep breaths, she inhaled and held it, then drew her bowstring back with a quick twist of her body.

She took aim for a brief moment. Her target was a single point.

—There!

She loosed a shot.

The arrow flew true, piercing a child’s chest and driving into the subhuman behind.

If she had shot an ogre or another race with similar toughness, one arrow might not have brought it down, but the subhuman she hit didn’t seem to have been endowed with such vitality.

Paying no attention to the crumpled subhuman, Neia drew her next arrow.

She had killed a human—an innocent child hostage.

Her hands shook. Her field of vision darkened at the edges, and her mind was roiling.

Though she had prepared herself for this moment, she couldn’t stay calm.

Without thinking, she reached for the hilt of her sword out of habit, but her fingers caught on her bowstring.

It was as if the bow were telling her this wasn’t the time.

A moment later, something flickered in Neia’s nearly frozen heart before spreading like wildfire, eradicating all traces of the howling wind that had been clouding her mind.

Her shaking ceased, and her field of vision returned to normal. All that was left were the words of the one who embodied unwavering justice.

Wow, it really works.

Neia reconfirmed that the King of Darkness had been speaking the truth.

The attackers who were around her first kill had noticeably slowed their advance; they were shaken to find their human shields not working as planned.

Then she yelled—at the militiamen gaping wide-eyed at her.

“What are you doing?! Throw your rocks! We can’t save the hostages!”

It was true. There was no way for them to save the hostages. And it was clear what the subhumans would do to the now unnecessary humans. What choice did the defenders have?

Only to visit another arrow upon their enemies.

With her keen eyes, she saw as her next shot went straight through a young boy’s forehead. Whether because the subhuman was an armat or because the hostage’s skull had slowed her arrow, one shot wasn’t enough to bring her target down. But it did disrupt the formation. Of course it did. Human or subhuman, when something doesn’t go according to plan, it’s enough to sow confusion and chaos.

But the enemy ranks stretched from one corner of her vision to the other.

The area she had shot into slowed, but the rest of the enemies continued marching, unaware that anything had happened. She had made only one tiny dent in the long, straight line.

“Throw your rocks already!” she shouted again.

If the soldiers continued to hesitate, Neia’s actions would be meaningless. As she had already taken human lives—robbing children of their futures—that was unacceptable.

The left, right, and center were all attacking at once. If the humans simply clashed head-on with this army more than double their size, the numerical disparity alone assured their defeat. But if they could slow down the assault, that would take off some of the pressure.

If the subhumans reached the wall, they would undoubtedly climb up with their human shields still held in front of them. And once they were over the top, it would be impossible for the militia to resist them. It was a question of how many they could thin out before the enemy reached them on the wall.

It’ll be hard to convince them to kill children, no matter how much I scream at them! That’s why we need someone to take the initiative and dirty their hands as an example!

Neia glared at the paladin in the distance.

You understood when we took the camp and this city! The King of Darkness did the right thing! And you know there was no other way! Instead of clinging to the lives you can’t save, you have to do everything possible to save the ones you can!

She loosed another arrow.

This time, she succeeded in killing the subhuman as well as the little girl in front.

“Hurry u—!”

“Rrragh!”

A battle cry drowned out Neia’s shout as a sling sent a rock flying.

The rock hit a confused subhuman. It was far from a fatal injury, but it did seem to deal at least a little damage.

“You guys! It’s fine—just attack them! You have to give up on the hostages!”

Neia recognized the militiaman giving directions.

It was the father of the boy who had been killed by the King of Darkness at the first camp.

You’re out here, too?
she wondered in surprise.

“If the enemy gets past us, the women and children inside will meet a horrible fate before we can save them! If you care about your kids, attack!”

The voice dispelled everyone’s shock, and a few rocks flew. The arcs they traveled made her wonder what they were aiming for, but they did fly.

By the time Neia was aiming her next shot, everyone was hurling rocks at the subhumans. A few of the subhumans with human shields at the front were hit, though it would’ve been more accurate to say the children were hit, not the subhumans.

The children were crying. They wailed inconsolably. And then another volley of missiles flew at them. These children, brutalized by both armies, were the most tragic victims.

Neia prioritized shooting them.

They were forsaking the few to save the many—the dearest sacrifices of all.

As she was about to lean out and scan for her next target, she noticed the sound of something slicing through the air, coming toward her right, as a curtain of light fell around her.

An enemy magic attack?!

For a moment, she froze. But at that same moment, she felt the slight shock of a tap against her abdomen. Like she’d been poked lightly.

When she took a step back, surprised, she heard a loud clang at her feet. She peered down only to find what looked like a huge lance—one of the ballista bolts. The head of the bolt was flattened, as if it had been pummeled with a hammer.

In a panic, she ducked behind the parapet. That was when she heard the
ka-thonk, ka-thonk
of something huge thudding into the wall.

A sheen of sweat coated her back.

She found herself fingering the point of impact.

And she remembered the curtain of light that had defended Buser when the King of Darkness had thrown his sword at him. That must have been it. The armor she received from the King of Darkness had protected her. She had just narrowly avoided death.

So it defends against projectiles?! My chest, shoulders, and abdomen are covered by the armor, but what about the rest of me? Does the power extend beyond the armor? No, more importantly, how many more times can I use it? Could it have been just this once?

Without the armor from the King of Darkness, Neia had no doubt she would’ve been skewered.

That realization made her whole body tremble.

“
Phew
, breathe,
haaaah
… Hang in there. You’re fine!”

Neia wasn’t within range of Under Divine Flag. She figured the crown she was borrowing would be enough. But as a result, it was hard to ignore the fear of death that sprang up within her. Though tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, she still gripped her bow and raised herself up again.

She had decided she would continue fighting even if she had to rob children of their lives. There was no way she could let a single attack scare her into submission.

The children may have been beyond rescue, but she refused to let them suffer. And she would deliver deaths to the monsters who had resorted to such despicable tactics. That was all that filled her mind as she loosed arrow after arrow.

The determination to fight even if the hostages died in the process, which had taken hold on only a single area of the wall at first, had spread to
all the units. Every defender was attacking the advancing subhumans with slings. It seemed like even the paladins were throwing rocks.

“Dammit! Dammit!”

“Ah, fuck. You monsters…!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“There’s no choice… Please forgive me…”

Some begged the children for forgiveness, but the rocks kept flying.

It was the attack of people who had agreed that in order to save the most lives possible, a certain amount of blood had to be spilled.

But there were so many enemies. By the time they had taken out the vanguard using the children as human shields, the rest of the encroaching army had nearly reached the wall and were already in the business of setting up ladder after ladder.

Without much technology to rely on, the best siege weapons the subhumans could muster were battering rams and ladders, but there wasn’t a perfect way to neutralize them, either. A few men with poles shoved some ladders back, and several angels destroyed what they could, but there were simply too many.

“What happened to the firebombs we kept in reserve? Tell the priests to support us with magic!”

“Crap! There’s a ladder over there! I’ll get it, so keep an eye on this spot!”

“Drop stones on them!”

The top of the wall was a hive of activity. Wherever a ladder went up, the defenders started throwing rocks and jabbing with spears to knock off anyone who climbed up, but soon it was impossible to fend off all of them.

Some of the subhumans were able to nimbly dodge the thrusting spears or even grab them and pull defenders off the wall. Others, like armats and bladers, who made use of their natural resilience that was comparable to plate armor, ignored the jabs outright and continued to climb.

The paladins, who had been trained in close-quarters combat, focused on fighting the subhumans with high defense, but the number of enemies
who had reached the top of the wall grew steadily. If there was a breach in any one location, the outcome was all but decided.

Steeling her nerves, Neia leaned about half her body out from the parapet and shot into the flanks of the climbing subhumans.

It was due less to her ability and more thanks to the power of the weapon, but many of the subhumans she hit went down in one shot. Ultimate Shooting Star: Super let her slay even the tough armats and bladers. Eventually, stone eaters started spitting rocks, and since Neia was half out in the open, she sustained a hit. It was thanks to Buser’s armor that she survived the hail of missiles. Even so, she was sure to have bruises and maybe even some fractures.

Despite the cold sweat that broke out, she didn’t pause her attacks for so much as a second.

I’m still okay… With my mana, I can only use the healing necklace His Majesty gave me one time. I have to save it for later!

As she landed shot after precise shot, part of her was trying to figure out how much longer she could hold out. Her healing spell was the ace up her sleeve, so she couldn’t waste it.

Drawing an arrow from the quiver, nocking it, aiming for a target’s head or heart, and then letting it fly. How many times had she repeated those motions?

Bang!
Suddenly, the impact of a rock hitting her forced the arrow she was holding from her hand.

The reason she dropped it was that her entire body was screaming after enduring a stone eater attack, but that wasn’t all.

A paladin’s main weapon was the sword. As a squire, she was drilled in swordsmanship. Even though she had some familiarity with archery, she hadn’t been training with the bow for long. That lack of practice was clear from the spasms of her arms and the pain in her fingers.

If she couldn’t use her bow and arrow anymore, she would only get in the way. She had the feeling it was too early to use her last resort, but there was no other way to recover her combat ability.

She wavered only briefly.

“Activate Heavy Recovery.”

Neia’s mana was consumed so abruptly, she felt slightly dizzy. She knew she wouldn’t be able to use the necklace again. But at the same time, all the soreness in her body disappeared. The spasms stopped, and the pain went away as well.

“Yes!”

She leaned out again and loosed another arrow.

Jaldabaoth’s army seemed to be rather well disciplined. Neia was sure that if it weren’t, one of the ballista-wielding ogres would have shot her. Fortunately for her, they were concerned about hurting their allies on the wall, and none of them attacked.

Neia was completely focused on loosing arrow after arrow until eventually her hand grabbed nothing but air.

Looking in a panic, she realized her quiver was empty.

And at the same time, she could hear the screams of the nearby militiamen.

On the ladder was a powerful-looking subhuman. Neia knew it had to be one of the stone eaters who had been spitting at her, but this one was heavily built. Maybe not as strong as Buser but still formidable.

In his right hand, he held a giant, crude sword like a thick meat cleaver. In his other hand was a helmet with something inside—the head of the commanding paladin.

“I, Jajan of the Ragon clan, have taken this commander’s head! Now, kill them, you louts! Kill the humans!”

The situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

There weren’t very many paladins. For one of them to be killed meant that the strength of the defenders in this area had just plummeted—and this was a clear sign of something else.

There is a definite gap in ability between paladins and militia, even without comparing one to the most highly skilled knight. The levies didn’t have a chance against a subhuman who had slain a paladin.

While the militiamen were frozen in fear, more subhumans climbed
up the ladder behind the stone eater Jajan. The flood of bodies made it seem like a dam had broken. One became two, two became four—the growth was exponential.

As the number of subhumans on the wall increased, the presence of the militia rapidly diminished.

The power disparity between the subhumans and citizen soldiers was clear.

Alarmed, Neia surveyed the area.

Arrows. Without arrows, she couldn’t do anything.

Scanning with bloodshot eyes, like a wanderer in the desert searching for water, she finally found a quiver with some arrows in it next to a soldier who was slumped against the parapet.

There! I’ll take his arrows and have him fall back!

But when she ran over to him, she gasped. The man who appeared to be an archer had lost half his face and was unmistakably dead.

One of the stone eater’s rocks must have struck him in the head. With his brains seeping out and his remaining glassy eye staring into space, Neia knew that if things had turned out slightly differently, she would’ve ended up just like him.

She realized there were similar corpses scattered all around her. Her normally keen sense of smell finally picked up the thick stench of blood. No, her nose had been working fine. Her brain had simply refused to register it.

It took all Neia’s might to keep her porridge down. She wasn’t sure if it was luck or if she had built up some strange resistance after seeing people get eaten alive.

Gritting her teeth, she transferred the arrows from the dead man’s quiver to her own. As her quiver filled up, she could feel her will to fight recover, too.

I can keep going. There are still ways for me to fight…!

Having finished the task at hand, she crossed the dead archer’s arms and closed his eye. She knew there was no time to waste, but she insisted on doing this much.

“I’ll fight enough for the both of us. Till the very end…”

By the time Neia had turned around and gotten to her feet, there were no longer any extraneous thoughts in her mind.

She was more alert than ever before, and her senses had never been sharper. She felt as if the bow in her hand had become a part of her.

The fight on the wall had turned into a brawl. Between Neia and Jajan, who was still holding the paladin’s head aloft, there were several other enemies, so it was basically impossible at her skill level to get a shot in. But…

I have these gauntlets! And I have Ultimate Shooting Star: Super from His Majesty! I can do this!

She loosed an arrow with absolute conviction.

By the time Jajan heard the sound of the missile slicing through the air, it was too late.

Neia’s shot punched right into his head, and he collapsed just like that.

“I, Neia Baraja, have killed Jajan of the Ragon clan!” she shouted, but no one cheered. Of course they didn’t. Everyone was busy fighting—they didn’t have time for a leisurely round of applause. When Neia realized that, she felt a little embarrassed, but she had still managed to rattle the subhumans. The aggressiveness of their attack had noticeably lessened.

Her announcement didn’t appear to have been totally ineffective.

Neia nocked another arrow and let it fly at the next subhuman she saw. Taking a direct hit to the head like so many others, her victim tumbled off the wall and fell.

She grabbed another arrow from her quiver. There was nothing special about it, but the motion was smooth and efficient.
Right now, am I getting close to the mastery of archery my father had?

Neia felt like her skill with a bow had increased dramatically during this fight. That was why she was able to kill Jajan, though admittedly he had also been injured in his fight with the paladin.

She hunted for more prey she could target in this melee.

I’m an archer. Why aren’t they trying to eliminate me first?

She got her answer the next time an arrow went through a subhuman’s head.

“Don’t accidentally get close to that human! It’s wearing the Mighty King’s armor!”

“The Mighty King’s?!”

“Mighty King Buser? His armor?!”

She heard with her sharp ears the murmur spreading among the subhumans.

“No doubt about it! That’s Buser’s armor!”

“No way. So the Mighty King was…? And by that human…?”

Oh! So that’s why! The King of Darkness wasn’t thinking about the magic protection against projectiles; he figured the reputation of having defeated Buser would protect me!

Apparently, Mighty King Buser was well-known among the subhuman forces. The subhumans who had arrived atop the wall must have thought, albeit mistakenly, that they had come face-to-face with the warrior who had beaten Buser. It couldn’t have hurt that she had just taken out that higher-ranking stone eater in one shot.

Though they realized she was an archer, they were on guard and couldn’t charge her.

The King of Darkness is always so brilliant. How impressive that he thought all that out…

Even if she turned tail and ran, only a few of the subhumans would follow. It was surely higher priority to secure the area than to chase someone they assumed was a powerful enemy. Neia was probably fairly safe. For a moment, the King of Darkness’s words,
Run for the east gate
, crossed her mind, but she didn’t feel like she could do that.

A person who would do that wouldn’t have gotten this far.

Neia drew an arrow and killed another subhuman.

“Wah! There it goes…with those piercing eyes again…!”

Piercing…? I mean, I am glaring at them, but…

“Those eyes thirst for slaughter! That…female, I think, is a real threat!”

What was…with that pause…?

“Look at that bow! It’s a terrific bow! It’s not all her!”

Neh-heh!

“The Wild-Eyed Shooter!”

………Huh?

“What’s with the name? You know her?”

………Hold up!

“That female human has a nickname?”

………Wait a—!

“I always heard there was an amazing archer with the face of a demon… Is that the one?”

No, that’s my dad!

“The Wild-Eyed Shooter! The archer who killed Buser!”

For some reason, the words
Wild-Eyed Shooter
rippled through the subhuman ranks.
It’s sticking!
she thought, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to deny or amend it.

As she loosed another arrow, the militia began to move.

“Everyone—defend! That’s the one! Don’t let the subhumans get anywhere near her!”

“Right! Form up! Remember your training!”

“I’ll take the front row!”

About twenty citizen soldiers came over to shield Neia.

“Shoot them down! We’ll protect you!”

“Understoo—”

Then the sound of flapping wings came from the enemy side.

Neia twisted her body instantly to aim the nocked arrow at the source of it.

She spotted pteroposes taking flight. A whole flock of them.

Their main objective seemed to be to fly over the wall, but a few of them dove for Neia.

The thoughts of which to aim for had already fallen away. In a blank, soundless world in which she could see only the enemies, her sole action, having gone past coolheaded to cold, was to send arrows toward them one after the other. Her shooting wasn’t human—the precision was machinelike.

The pteroposes who had been flying at Neia fell, and she relaxed slightly. Her sense of sound returned as the moment of hyper focus faded.

Right next to you—

She tried to dodge, but a sharp pain ran through her left arm.

An armat that had come right up close had slashed it open with its claws.

“Gaaagh!”

Even as she screamed, she went to reach for an arrow, but she worried whether her left arm would be able to keep the bow steady or not.
Then wouldn’t it be better to draw my sword?

Taking Neia’s hesitation as a huge opening, the armat with the hideous face, still in front of her, raised a hand to aim a follow-up slash at her.

Neia tried to back up to avoid it, but her opponent’s ability as a warrior was superior to her own, and the creature nimbly closed the distance so she couldn’t completely evade.

A searing pain coursed through her face. Luckily, she managed to turn her head and save her eyes, but a gaping wound was ripped open, gouging through the meat of her left cheek into her oral cavity.

A massive amount of blood gushed into her mouth, the taste of it coating her entire tongue. And it wasn’t only that. She could feel the hot liquid running down her neck and chest.

With no time to draw her sword, she whacked the armat in the face with Ultimate Shooting Star: Super.

The subhuman probably hadn’t expected her to do such a thing with her bow. The armat leaped back out of range.

With her bow still occupying her partially immobile left arm, Neia used her right hand to draw her sword.

Resolved to die an honorable death, she unleashed what was basically a body check. The armat swiftly countered, but thanks to a militiaman cutting into its leg from the side, it missed. In exchange for getting part of her ear sliced off, Neia thrust her sword through the armat’s throat.

Watching the armat fall out of the corner of her eye, she surveyed the situation.

While she had been focused on loosing arrows, most of the citizen soldiers shielding her had been killed, and the subhumans had reached her.
There were only five militiamen left, stubbornly holding out on the part of the wall that faced the city.

The nearest reinforcements were fighting some distance away, separated from their position by more subhumans who had climbed the ladders, so it didn’t seem like they would be able to assist. With enemies behind Neia’s group as well, there was no easy way for them to maneuver.

There were over thirty-four subhumans at Neia’s position. Versus six humans.

When she shot her piercing gaze at them, the pressure eased off, and they backed away slightly.

“’Scuse us, ma’am!”

The few militiamen got into a defensive formation in front of her.

“They’ll only get past here by walking over our dead bodies!”

The one who made that declaration was a weak-looking man in his forties with a potbelly. That said, his face, flustered from the rush of combat, was spattered with blood; whether it was his own or someone else’s was unclear, as he was covered in so many wounds. Despite all that, he stood in front of her, determined not to sink to his knees.

He was the very picture of a dependable warrior.

“Thank you!” Neia said as she spat out the blood in her mouth. “I appreciate it!”

It wasn’t just him. The bodies of citizen soldiers scattered around told her that they had all held their ground and died protecting her. Besides conveying her trust in them, what more could she say?

The man’s gaze shifted to Neia’s shoulder, and he winced. “You can see the bone.”

“Please don’t tell me stuff like that. Now it hurts an awful lot.”

“Oh, ahhh, sorry.”

A paladin with a bit of skill could have used a low-tier healing spell, but for Neia, a squire, that was an impossible feat. There were also no paladins or priests nearby. She hadn’t recovered enough mana to use her magic healing item again, either. It was probably best to give up on using her left hand for the rest of the battle.

Neia scowled at the subhumans. Even just moving her eyes made her face throb.

The pain made her gaze even more severe, and the subhumans braced themselves.

“Thanks to the way you took so many out with your bow, that one before is the only one who has rushed us. It’s thanks to you that we’re still alive.”

If the subhumans before her had all charged at once, the militiamen defending her would have been scattered. But since they were wary of Neia and her bow, they hadn’t been able to move freely. And when she listened to what they were saying to one another, she understood why.

“The Wild-Eyed Shooter…isn’t so great with a sword?”

“Don’t let your guard down. She’s probably trying to make us let our guard down.”

“Could we call the snakemen and have them kill her at a distance with their spears?”

Neia laughed in her head. They seemed to overestimate her quite a bit thanks to her borrowed bow.

“…Can you take them?”

Neia smiled in response to the question asked in a voice low enough that the subhumans couldn’t hear.

“…With this bow…if I could shoot them with Ultimate Shooting Star: Super, which the King of Darkness lent me, maybe, but…”

The man rolled the words
Ultimate Shooting Star: Super
around in his mouth and smiled sadly. “I see…so we’re in trouble. Miss Baraja…you should jump down and run. We need you to survive.”

Neia looked at the man.

“Eeegh! S-sorry. Of course you’d be mad I said something so presumptuous. I—I don’t know what kind of hell you’ve gone through to survive, but it’s just… You’re about the same age as my daughter, and I just can’t bear to see someone so young die…”

I’m not mad; I just looked at you normally
, Neia thought, but she had gotten used to the reaction and didn’t let it bother her.

What the man said was probably true. Rather than swing her sword impotently, it would be smarter to fall back, rest up, and return ready to shoot her bow.

But what will happen to them if I do that? I already know. But even if I fight here, I can’t save them. They would only die in vain. Still…

Neia glanced at the bow in her left hand.

I have to return this weapon. There are tons of reasons I should make a run for it. But if I fled carrying the bow His Majesty the King of Darkness lent me, what would his detractors say? In that case…

“Who would run?” she bellowed. “You think I’d run after borrowing this weapon from His Majesty?!”

She tightened her grip on the sword in her right hand.

Kindness is meant to be repaid in kindness. That’s only natural for a human being.

She would be hard-pressed to say that this country—especially the leadership of the Paladin Order—had repaid the kindness they’d received. But Neia wanted to show the King of Darkness that not everyone here was like them.

“Uraaaaaagh!”

With a cry like a wail, Neia made a decisive charge. If the militiamen defended her even though she couldn’t use her bow, they would die for no reason. So now, while the subhumans were mistaking her as some immensely powerful opponent, she had a chance to prevent the enemy from fighting at full strength.

And they didn’t seem to have expected that she would rush such a large group. They weren’t ready. Even Neia, who wasn’t so great with a sword, could hit a target this slow to react.

An instant after Neia, the militiamen followed her.

She swung her sword.

It was parried, and her weak stance invited the subhumans to shower her with attacks. Buser’s armor took the brunt of the hits.

Neia lunged with her sword.

It plunged into a subhuman body. As she drew it out, innards spilled forth. Before her victim had even hit the ground, another slashed at her face
with their claws. Now she had a gash on her right cheek as well as her left. Blood streamed into her eyes.

There was a horrible throbbing in her foot.

A subhuman dagger stabbed deep into her.

One militiaman fell.

She whirled her sword around.

Another subhuman went down.

The militiamen were wiped out.

Whether in front or on her flank, she could see nothing but enemies.

Her breath grew ragged, and her heart pounded.

Her ripped-up body grew warm, and her every movement tormented her with throbbing pain.

I’m scared.

Neia was afraid.

I’m going to die.
The thought was unbearably terrifying.

Certainly, she had prepared herself. She knew she would die here.

The enemy army was multiple times the size of theirs. And the enemy was also superior in individual combat ability.

It was impossible to count all the disadvantages they faced; their only advantage was that they were the defending side.

It would be stranger to expect to live under such circumstances.

But even with that resolve, once death was right in front of her, it terrified Neia to her core.

Then she remembered what the person she respected most had said about the east gate. Even with her resolve.

As a child, Neia had wondered what became of people after death.

The holy book said that after souls returned to the great current, the gods would judge them, and those who had performed good deeds would be sent to the land of repose, while those who performed evil deeds would be sent to the land of suffering.

But even if she had accumulated enough good deeds to go to the land of repose, the end of her life was still frightening.

She swung her sword.

With her strength flagging, it was now impossible for her to kill an opponent with a single blow.

Even when she tried to follow through on her attacks, in her current situation, the counterattacks bit back far harder.

A dagger stabbed into her armor, gouging her.

It was thanks to the armor the King of Darkness had given her that she was still alive at all. Without it, she would have died long ago. Yes. Just like the civilian soldiers who were strewn around the wall, whose bodies had also been thrown into the city because they were in the way.

I must look awful…

She laughed—that she was able to think something so out of place as the next world was coming into view.

When she swung her sword, her foot slipped. Her left thigh cramped, and her right thigh was injured, so when she tried to plant her foot, it didn’t work.

Losing her balance, she nearly fell. Leaning back on the parapet and staying on her feet was the most she could manage.

The world turned a foggy white, and she heard a distant wheezing.

Be quiet
, she thought, wondering who was breathing so hard, but she realized it was her.

This was it.

Neia was going to die.

“The Wild-Eyed Shooter is on death’s doorstep!”

“Yeah! Let’s gang up on her!”

The subhuman voices sounded far away.

Shut…up…

She couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore. But with the scattering fragments of her mind, she thought,
It can’t be anything that would benefit me anyhow.

Her sword remained in her hand, and she waved it around.

Don’t come near me.

All it did was keep the surrounding enemies back, or perhaps it did even less than that.

I-I’m so scared… But you’re all…waiting for me…right?

In this hazy, milky world, she saw her parents smiling. And her friends from home.

Who is that? Oh, it’s Bou and Mo. And Dan—she was like a big sister to me. I’m…scared. Your Majesty…

Her lungs, heart, arms, legs, and brain wanted to rest.

Neia could no longer resist that temptation. So then why didn’t she fall?

There was the fear of death. There was the belief that she had to fight till the very end as a squire.

But more than that, she wanted to be worthy of the gear she had been lent.

When all the weapons were thrust toward her at once, her body gave way.

And that’s how Neia Baraja died.

4

The air of a battlefield is unique. All manner of things mix together to create a frankly sickening smell. But she was used to it.

Behind the lowered portcullis, Remedios breathed deeply, inhaling the air tainted with that stench.

As she watched, an army of well over ten thousand had begun to move.

At the head of the charging forces were ogres and some equine subhumans. Remedios tightened her grip on her Holy Sword.

Doing battle with a blade was very easy to understand, so she liked it. She loved it. The winner and loser were always clear, and if the loser was killed, there would be no more trouble. If only everything was that simple, life would be so much easier. Her little sister and her master would never have to worry.

“Sigh…”

Then she thought about what to do.

Gustav had made it sound complicated, but to summarize, they would be fine as long as they didn’t let any subhumans past the gate.

There were thousands upon thousands of subhumans. The ones attacking this gate probably numbered around ten thousand.

On an open plain, it would be impossible not to let any slip through. But in a tight space like a gate, the number of enemies that can attack me at once is limited, too. So if I do my thing, I can keep them from getting past us, no problem! All I have to do is drink potions to cure my fatigue and kill ten thousand opponents in a row!

Gustav’s face would have asked,
Are you serious?
if he had heard what she was thinking, but she smiled. Of course, Gustav stressed precisely because her ideas weren’t entirely absurd, but…

My plan is perfect! For Master Caspond to transfer command to me—Lady Calca said it, too, but what a guy.

Yes
. Remedios nodded.

And then she considered the one issue with her perfect plan of killing ten thousand solo opponents in a row: the existence of Jaldabaoth.

The plan fell apart if an enemy stronger than her appeared.

Remedios wasn’t so great at using her head, but it worked well for her in combat.

Which is why she understood that it would be difficult for her to prevail against Jaldabaoth. Of course, she couldn’t admit that in front of her subordinates. She was the strongest warrior in the Sacred Kingdom. If she admitted he could defeat her, everyone’s will to fight would plummet.

That’s why they had brought the King of Darkness with them.

The King of Darkness…

The idea of entrusting her country to an undead was so offensive, it made her want to vomit, but there was no other choice.

Tch. He could help out from the shadows and use that goat or sheep or whatever spell that killed all those Re-Estize soldiers. Then no innocent people would have to die. Do undead not grasp the logic that the strong should protect the weak? Is he really even that strong?

She applauded his single-handed capture of the city. And it was great that he had defeated Buser—whom Gustav had told her was a well-known subhuman warrior. But Jaldabaoth stood on a different level. Remedios wasn’t even sure if a caster capable of capturing a city on his own was powerful enough to defeat the demon or not.

If she had sparred with him, she might have had a better idea of where he stood, but Gustav had been desperate to prevent her from doing that. As a result, she had no way to measure the King of Darkness’s true strength.

Remedios doubted him.

When Jaldabaoth had shown his true form, she had felt his overwhelming power firsthand, but she never got so much as an inkling of that from the King of Darkness. If it was true that he annihilated the Re-Estize army, he should have had an aura of power that was impossible to hide even if he wanted to.

Maybe it had something to do with him being a caster. But if he was comparable with Jaldabaoth, she expected to sense something—anything.

I mean, I sure hope he’s as strong as he says. Well, it’s not as if we lose much if he dies. As an undead, he’s sure to be a hindrance for the Sacred Kingdom in the future. The best would be if he and Jaldabaoth destroyed each other.

No matter how her subordinates tried to change her mind, Remedios remained firm on that. If anything, she had doubled down on her convictions when the king had killed the hostage boy. As a paladin, she could not approve of anyone able to casually do something so inhumane.

Couldn’t it be that the people of his nation are actually ruled by fear?

When she thought about it, there were a lot of things that made it seem like that might be the case. Then maybe for those people, too, it would be better to have him die in the fight with Jaldabaoth.

The main issue is the people of our country. If what Gustav said is true, this is our chance. We have to prove the strength of the Paladin Order and get them to abandon their stupid ideas about the King of Darkness. But if Jaldabaoth shows up, we’ll have no choice but to rely on him…

Remedios wanted to yank off her helmet and scratch her head in frustration.

She couldn’t believe that the people of a kingdom governed by someone as wonderful as Calca would willingly choose an undead instead. The very idea of it made her sick.

And Squire Baraja—hmm? Could she be under some sort of spell, like Charm? Oh! Maybe he’s using some kind of magic that forces people over a wide area to think favorably of him!

Dang
, thought Remedios.
I hadn’t considered that possibility.

I should probably tell Gustav about this. Well, after I win this fight.

Remedios stared behind her.

Citizens had formed up with spears and shields.

“Brave subjects of Roebel! Sadly, our country is being overrun with subhumans—let’s acknowledge that. But today we’re going to drive them off and save our innocent friends who are suffering! This is the first step. Let’s repel them here and take back the Sacred Kingdom!” In response to Remedios’s rousing shout, the people looked nervous. “The grubby subhumans are attacking. You will block with your shields and thrust with your spears like a wall that won’t let the enemy take a single step forward! There’s nothing to be afraid of! After the first attack, your only job is to handle the subhumans that run from me! If you can slow them down for a little while, I and our elite paladins will defeat them!”

The tension lessened slightly. Becoming too relaxed was bad in battle, but being too tense was worse. As far as Remedios could tell, the militia was now in the perfect mindset for battle.

“You honed your skills all day yesterday! All we ask now is that you make full use of your training! No need to be nervous!” Remedios paused for a moment and then raised her voice even further. “First rank! Raise your shields!”

The front row of the militiamen surrounding the gate obeyed.

The shields were large enough to hide almost their entire bodies. The bottoms had finger-length spikes jutting out.

“Shields down!”

The people holding their shields up slammed the spike edge into the ground with all their might. Thus, an instant metal wall was built.

The previous day, this shield unit had been drilled in just three commands. One was to use all their strength to raise the shields up and slam the spikes down in a deep stabbing motion. The second was to never give ground no matter how strongly the enemy pushed them.

“Second row! Shields up!”

These shields were the same as those equipping the first row, except they didn’t have any spikes. These were raised overhead to cover both the first and second rows, just like a lid. So even if attacks cleared the first row of shields, they would be protected.

Paladins stationed at fixed intervals in the second row cast Under Divine Flag. That way if the enemy put the pressure on, the troops would be protected from fear.

“Third-row pikes, advance! Next, fourth-row pikes, advance!”

The third and fourth rows were equipped with long polearms.

They stuck their pikes out between gaps in the shield unit members. They steadied the unsharpened ends against the ground in order to prevent the enemy from forcing their way through. The fourth row’s pikes were slightly longer than the third row’s. Normally, there would be more rows to make a dense thicket of pikes, but they didn’t have enough people, so instead they overlapped the kill zones to make it harder to break through.

It was a perfect formation.

But it had one weakness.

This formation was effective against warriors, but it was weaker against opponents with special abilities such as certain subhumans or casters.

It was true that spells such as Fireball could be blocked by the shields, substantially reducing the damage they caused. But the attack spell Lightning would pierce in a straight line all the way to the back of their formation. There was no guarantee that the subhumans didn’t have abilities like that.

The reason the paladins trained the people this way, despite those weaknesses, was that there was no formation more effective.

“Good! Now let’s do this! Raise the gate!”

With Remedios’s shout, the portcullis was raised. The attacking subhumans moved slowly, out of surprise.
The humans opened the gate themselves?
To an optimist, it meant surrender, while to a realist, it probably looked like a trap.

Remedios grinned.

“All right, you grimy monsters! How about I peel your skin off and use it to wipe my ass?!”

Getting cajoled by a squishy human provoked the subhumans, and they sped up their charge.

Remedios turned her back to the enemy and set off running. Placing a hand on one of the massive shields, she vaulted over the human lines.

The subhumans dashed forward, and several went sprawling over the ground after squeezing under the gate.

There was a ton of oil spread at the entrance. Tripping while charging could go one of two ways: Either the troops to the rear tripped, too, or they trampled the ones in front who had fallen.

Regrettably, the larger subhumans, such as ogres, invaded the city without tripping. The horselike ones seemed to be either falling or slowing down.

The charge of a larger subhuman would probably be on par with the attack of a warhorse. But if the humans couldn’t hold here, their plan would go to pieces.

Though their gaits were out of step, the ogres continued their charge, waving their giant mauls. The pikes were longer, however, and some of the ogres failed to properly judge the distance and ran straight into them. But they weren’t so weak that that would kill them.

“Now! Throw them!”

At Remedios’s command, firebombs sailed over the humans’ heads. They landed in the vicinity of the gate with a crash of breaking bottles and a burst of flames. The enemies that had gotten bunched up as they entered the gate were enveloped in an inferno.

The subhumans might have anticipated this attack, but Remedios was sure that the fire was more powerful than they had imagined—due to all the oil coating the ground and clinging to their bodies.

The ogres facing off against the shield wall were alarmed.

With a huge fire blazing up behind them, that was only natural.

They may have had thicker skin than humans, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get burned.

Shouts and shrieks echoed around the gate. But as might be expected from subhumans with their exceptional resilience, being wrapped in flames wasn’t enough to prevent most of them from continuing to fight.

The subhumans had two choices: advance or retreat.

The black smoke obscuring their view robbed them of any other choices. Many subhumans could see in the dark, but that didn’t mean they could see through smoke.

Being seared in the fire while hardly able to see, struggling while blinded by the smoke, not very many of them could act with a clear head.

It was difficult to retreat in this situation; other troops had arrived behind them, thinking to invade the city via this gate. Actually, the ones outside the gate were hesitating due to the intensity of the fire, but since they were enveloped in smoke, it was impossible to tell.

For that reason, the subhumans chose to advance.

It was just as Remedios expected.

Relying on the natural toughness of their bodies, the subhumans undertook an impossible attack. But—

The third thing the shield unit had been taught to do was maintain the wall even in billowing black smoke.

“Pike unit, pull!”

The pikes were all pulled back.

“Pike unit, thrust!”

Everyone pushed their pikes forward at once.

The subhumans who had just leaped out of the smoke with ferocious growls, having difficulty defending or evading, were greeted by a thicket of pikes. But even so, it was difficult for someone with the strength of an ordinary human to pierce the body of a subhuman—especially when the attacking party was undoubtedly chosen for their toughness to break through a gate.

But that didn’t matter.

Remedios never expected these people to kill their opponents in a single attack.

They could attack repeatedly for as long as the shield unit could hold.

“Pull! Thrust!”

As she repeated those commands, Remedios vaulted back over the shield unit and sliced into the subhumans who were out of range of the pikes.

The dark smoke stung her eyes and throat. But she wasn’t at leisure to worry about that. There weren’t many enemies who had gotten through the portcullis and past the oil—only about fifty.

First, she would slaughter all of them and chip away at the enemy’s will to fight. This was the vanguard, so they had to be strong soldiers with high morale. Mowing them down would have a greater effect than killing regular members of the rank and file.

Without missing a beat, Remedios cut down one enemy after another.

Large subhumans like ogres weren’t able to make full use of their abilities in the crowded melee.

The Holy Sword danced.

Eventually, through tears, Remedios could see that the subhumans had disappeared from the area. But she could hear the racket all the rest were making on the other side of the smoke. They may have been reorganizing their ranks.

As she was slowly retreating, she spotted a few enemies beyond the black smoke.

“Commander! Come back this way!”

A subordinate paladin who was using Under Divine Flag called out to her.

But Remedios felt instinctively that she shouldn’t fall back.

In the gradually dissipating smoke, she saw that three subhumans were slowly walking toward her, which confirmed her hunch.

One was a warrior with the upper body of some animal and the honed lower body of a carnivore.

One looked like a woman with four arms.

And the other was a primate subhuman with long snow-white hair wearing a plethora of gold accessories.

Remedios’s original plan was to clash with ten thousand subhumans, and she had a decent chance at winning. But the idea of facing these three at once seemed extremely dangerous, even to her.

Only three of them. She couldn’t see them very well through the smoke, but their leisurely pace indicated an abundance of confidence. Even the mob of subhumans that should have been their allies left everything to those three and didn’t take so much as a step toward Remedios.

…They’re strong. I’m not even sure…if I could beat them one-on-one. There’s no way I could win against all three.

Her gut told her that it would be better to run than take on the trio. But she had no idea what she should do after running. Conversely, if these three could be defeated, it seemed likely to mean that this part of the fight, at least, would be a complete victory.

She gripped her Holy Sword tightly and said, without turning around, “Sabicas, Esteban.”

The two acknowledged with a “Ma’am!” and she knew from the sounds that they were making their way through the group of citizen soldiers to come forward.

“Can you keep two of those busy until I kill the other one?”

The two of them shouted, “Leave it to us!” but Remedios’s intuition whispered that it was impossible. Buying her a few minutes would be a job well done. But what would happen if she brought out more paladins?

No
. She shook her head.

Their opponents were the type to show up on the front line alone. They were most definitely the confident sort who wanted to stand out, and those guys tended to seek out one-on-one fights. It was the streak of pride the strong possess.

And the arrogant ones were apt to torment the weak. Even if they could end the fight within seconds, they would try to prolong it.

Entrusting her faint hope to this plan, she figured arranging three duels was the way to go.

“Paladins, if either one of them falls, take up their place in single
combat. One at a time. After Sabicas and Esteban, the order is Franco, then Galván.”

Not attacking in numbers could mean they were buying time, but it could also be interpreted as an order to sacrifice themselves. Knowing that, the holy knights accepted the plan with no hesitation.

This was what it meant to be a paladin.

These were true embodiments of justice.

It means sacrificing yourself for others.

This was quite possibly the last time Remedios could ever see them alive and well. Yet, she never took her gaze off the three subhumans. She didn’t want to miss a chance to glean any information about them.

I can’t see them clearly, but those two have the strength of warriors. The ape one might be a monk. The four-armed one is a caster, I suppose? Or something else maybe?

Subhumans who brute forced their way through battles didn’t frighten her. The frightening ones were those who had honed various skills. Because if a subhuman was trained as a warrior, even if they didn’t work at it for very long, they had improved the body they were born with, which meant they could grow to surpass the Sacred Kingdom’s experienced warriors. In fact, the worst wound Remedios had ever gotten, aside from her fight with Jaldabaoth, had been against an opponent like that.

She could remember being impaled through the abdomen even now. That was why she was wary when fighting subhumans and relied heavily on her instinct.

Subhumans who can use magic are the worst. If she can fly, we’re screwed.

If Remedios activated her armor’s power, she was actually capable of flight for a limited time. But it didn’t give her complete freedom; taking off, landing, and turning took time and effort, so she couldn’t fight in her usual style. An opponent who could use Fly or a similar ability might be able to maintain a position out of her attack range. She had an art that would allow her to launch a ranged blade attack, but considering the decreased impact of the blow, it would be difficult to win quickly that way.

The three subhumans paused upon entering the gate.

“I can’t believe we have to cooperate against a mere human.”

Though Remedios still couldn’t see them completely, a relaxed voice reached her from beyond the smoke.

The hand around her Holy Sword grew clammy. The bitter taste specific to approaching danger spread across her tongue.

Now that they were closer, she was certain.

The beast and ape were strong even among the strong. The four-armed one she was less sure about, but if she was standing alongside these two, it made sense to assume she was of a similar caliber—all three were as powerful as Remedios.

“Honestly! This smoke is just in the way. A real pain in the ass.”

Wind roared past, blowing the rest of the smoke away.

Now the subhumans were fully visible. The one in front was holding a massive battle-ax.

“Zooostia as I thought!” shouted Esteban.

Zooostia? So this subhuman is named Zooostia?
thought Remedios.

“Ohhh…? Well, it’s no shock that you’d know.” A beastly grin appeared on his face. “But all right, considering how knowledgeable you are, I’ll let you go—in order to have you tell everyone how powerful I am.”

“Hee-hee-hee. Sir Vijar, Emperor Jaldabaoth will scold you if you do as you please like that. Let’s trash his weapon and take him prisoner—you’ve got to do at least that much.”

It was the ape one who replied to the zooostia.

Remedios was completely confused. There was practically a question mark over her head as she asked no one in particular, “Zooostia? Vijar? Zooostia Vijar? Vijar Zooostia?”

She was asking what his name was, but the zooostia himself didn’t seem to take it as such. He let out a comfortable laugh.

“Kha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Are you calling me that because you’ve acknowledged me as a representative of my race? I guess you humans have good eyes!”

“Surely it’s flattery, Sir Vijar,” the four-armed subhuman a step back to his left said with a sneer.

“Th-that’s right. I only meant it as flattery, Vijar.” Once the word
race
came up, even Remedios realized she had made a basic error.

Vijar’s face warped in offense. “Hmph. I would have asked for your measly life to be spared if you were able to entertain me. I don’t care if you regret it now!”

“Who would regret it? I’m sure you’ll reflect on it once you’re in the next world.”

“Hee-hee-hee. This young lady’s got some spunk. Is ‘young lady’ correct, age-wise? It’s hard to judge with other races…”

“You’re probably right, but I don’t care.”

The subhumans were being serious. Without knowledge or experience, it was impossible to tell with other races.

“Very well, young human lady. Shall I make the introductions? My name is Harisha Ankarra. And he may require no introduction, but this is Vijar Rajandala. And finally, this is Nasrenée Berto Cule.”

“Those names! White Elder and Elemental Storm!” the paladin Sabicas yelped in surprise.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh. Seems even the humans have heard of me. Meanwhile, the nestling—”

“Human. Haven’t you heard of me?”

“I haven’t heard of Vijar Rajandala. But there’s a famous zooostia with a similar battle-ax. Vicious Claw. ‘Vicious Claw’ Vaju Sandiknala.”

“That’s my father.” Vijar sniffed condescendingly. “I’m the inheritor of the name, Vijar Rajandala. I’ll have to make sure that when you think of Vicious Claw, you think of me.”

“Hee-hee-hee. Then shall we leave the human leader up to you, Sir Vijar?”

“Yeah. You made us come out here rather than use magic from a distance, so you can do that much. Frankly, I’d like you to take them all on.”

“Hee-hee-hee. But we were ordered to work together, weren’t we?”

“But it must be tough for you in your old age! I don’t mind!”

“Tch!” Nasrenée clicked her tongue and glowered at Vijar.

Frankly, the hostility was so intense that Remedios wondered if they would start killing one another if she just left them alone.

“Now then, I really wouldn’t mind fighting alone, but…” Vijar glared at Remedios. “But first I’d like to know your name. I don’t need to know the name of every bit of rabble, but that’s quite a sword you have.”

“Remedios Custodio.”

Vijar’s and Harisha’s faces twisted up—for different reasons.

Vijar was smiling, thirsty for the blood of a strong enemy, while Harisha was surprised.

Nasrenée’s expression didn’t change.

“You, huh? You’re Remedios Custodio? The strongest paladin in this kingdom. Ha-ha! Great. If I kill you, word of my skill will spread all over. The zooostia who defeated Roebel’s strongest paladin. And as the one who inherited the name Vicious Claw.”

“Hmm. So that’s a Holy Sword, then? Hmm. Hey, Sir Vijar. Any interest in trading opponents? If we swap, I’ll have my tribe spread word of your achievements far and wide.”

The other two subhumans reacted immediately.

“Hee-hee-hee. Is your plan to give that to Emperor Jaldabaoth and then pester him for a child?”

“Hmph. It’s already decided that I’m fighting the leader. There’s nothing for you to do.”

“—You’d beg a demon for his seed? I feel sick.” Unable to simply let that remark pass, Remedios cut into the conversation, only for Nasrenée to shoot her a look of disappointment.

“You can’t even grasp the value of bearing the child of an absolute ruler? Humans really are stupid creatures.”

“I’m sure even that great being…would favor the race of the one who bore his child. In that sense, women have a certain advantage.”

“Hmph. And with such a distinguished father, I’m sure a fairly amazing child will be—” Vijar puffed out his chest. “No, an even greater child will be born! Hmm? Well, I might be an outlier.”

Despite standing on a battlefield, these three subhumans seemed
to have no sense of danger. Their casual chatting started to piss Remedios off.

“I’m amazed at the nonsense you’re all spouting. What’s the use in thinking of the future? Your ridiculous dreams end here. No, not just yours. All three of you are going down!”

“Hee-hee-hee. Oooh, I’m so scared.” Harisha flailed his arms and legs, but he didn’t look frightened at all—because he was confident he could win against Remedios. And knowing that offended Remedios even more.

Remedios ordered the paladins loudly enough that the subhumans could hear. “You guys, one-on-one battles. I’m taking Vijar. You—”

“Then for me…” Sabicas turned to Harisha.

“In that case…” Esteban stood before Nasrenée.

“…Oh? …I’m not a warrior, so I’m not sure I understand, but I get the feeling we’re being underestimated.”

“Hee-hee-hee… But is it the truth or a ruse? Better to stay on your toes, Lady Nasrenée.”

Sensing Vijar laughing through his nose, Remedios shouted, “Let’s go!” It was clear they had noticed that the other two paladins were weaker than her, but no good would come of letting them chat about it.

The initial attack would be critical. In order to assuage the fear of the militia watching from behind them with bated breath, as well as impress on their opponents how strong she was, Remedios needed to hit him as hard as she could without considering the pace of the fight at all.

With her Holy Sword in one hand, she rushed toward Vijar, swinging.

Vijar intercepted with his huge battle-ax.

When the two clashed, the air itself seemed to tremble.

There was a commotion among the people in the rear.

Remedios didn’t have time to leisurely analyze whether it was admiration or fear—because the sword she’d put all her strength into had been repelled by a blow just as mighty.

Having unleashed attacks of even strength, neither weapon was dinged.

It was such a clash that a normal weapon would have bent or chipped slightly. In other words, Vijar’s weapon was enchanted, too.

“Kgh!”

“Nrrrgh!”

Remedios’s next swing delivered a shallow cut to Vijar’s upper body, drawing a spray of blood. But at the same time, his battle-ax crashed into her chest.

Her magic armor protected her from the blade, but the impact knocked the breath out of her.

Remedios was thrown back by the blow, and Vijar rushed at her and swung his battle-ax to chop her down the middle.

Without the oxygen to counter, Remedios held up her sword to limberly parry. The ax gave her goose bumps as it came down a mere hairbreadth away before thumping into the earth. The ground jolted so hard, she momentarily felt like she had been thrown.

With his ax in the dirt, Vijar was defenseless, and Remedios jammed her sword into his face.

“Strong Blow!”

“Fortress!”

Realizing he had no time to raise his heavy battle-ax, Vijar let go of the handle and shielded himself with his arm.

Bright-red blood gushed from his right forearm.

But the blade of the Holy Sword didn’t reach his face. There were two reasons for that.

One was that he had used a defensive martial art. The other was that Remedios’s arm was numb, so she couldn’t thrust at full power.

Well, then—
, thought Remedios, but when she moved to shove the sword deeper, a flash of pain in her foot stopped her.

Vijar had used one of the forepaws of his lower animal body to swipe at her legs. His claws were mostly repelled by her greaves, but one of them managed to tear into her foot.

By that time, he had already raised his ax.

To prevent him from swinging, Remedios closed in a step. Her foot ached with every move.

“Strong Blow!”

“Strong Claw!”

With a dexterous motion of his ax, Vijar blocked Remedios’s lunge.

And Remedios moved smoothly from glancing off Vijar’s ax to swiping at his reinforced forelegs.

When Vijar fell back, Remedios rushed forward to close the gap.

Several exchanges of attack and defense ensued.

Both of them escaped fatal wounds, but with each blow, more blood flowed.

Remedios was convinced she was ahead.

If things keep going like this, I can win!

Joy welled up inside her.

If she could take out these three subhumans, it would mean she had protected all the people here. That would restore their faith in the Sacred Kingdom.

Then they won’t have any use for that undead!

Roughly speaking, the difference between a regular warrior and a paladin is that warriors are the offensive vanguard and paladins are the defensive vanguard. It’s extremely difficult to quantify the difference, but if a warrior’s attack can be considered an 11 and their defense is a 9, then a paladin’s attack would be 8 and their defense 11. Of course, paladins are able to use magic, but warriors acquire all sorts of martial arts, so it’s ultimately not a simple comparison. Still, to explain it to someone who knows nothing about them, that sums it up.

As for which is stronger in a fight against a caster, that would be paladins. With their divine protection, they have higher resistance against magic than warriors. For that reason, if Nasrenée was a caster on the same level as Remedios, she didn’t pose too much of a threat.

Then there was Harisha, who seemed in all likelihood to be a monk, judging by his gear and movements. They often had the upper hand against casters and thieves, but against a paladin, the paladin would come out on top. So the primate didn’t worry Remedios much, either.

Which was why…

If I can defeat Vijar, there’s a very good chance I can slay all three.

Given the choice between fighting Vijar after wearing herself out on the other two matches or fighting him unharmed, the latter gave her a better chance of winning, hence her decision to challenge him first. There was no problem there. Her calculation error—

“Oh dear, you’re already dead?”

“Hee-hee-hee. This one, too.”

—was not realizing how poorly her subordinates would fare against the other two.

“What?!”

Had she overestimated the other paladins or underestimated the subhumans? Or was it both?

“Getting distracted during a battle with me is an insult!”

A furious blow struck Remedios.

“Guh!”

She just barely managed to block it, but the desperate defense had shifted the advantage from her to Vijar.

“It was Remedios, right? Standing before you is the powerful Vijar, whose name will soon echo across the land! If you don’t run away as fast as you can, your life will end in mere moments.”

As Remedios bit her lip, the sounds of the other fights reached her ears.

“Hee-hee-hee. This one’s stronger.”

“…Eh, he’s no different than the last, is he? I’m not a warrior, so I’m not sure, but…”

“I’m Franco, a paladin.”

“And I’m another paladin, Galván. You’ll be fighting me now!”

Only a few seconds after she heard their voices, the clattering thud of a body in metal armor hitting the ground sounded twice.

Franco had been a good man. Though he still had a ways to go as a paladin, he valued harmony and was loved by most. He had been stationed here because Gustav trusted him, and since Remedios was familiar with his personality, she had entrusted him with the job of leading the people in this area.

Galván had just been married. But he didn’t know where his wife was
being held. He had suppressed his urge to go search for her in order to help the masses instead.

It was far too soon for either of them to die.

“You’re distracted again!”

An even more vicious attack than before accompanied Vijar’s bark. Remedios leaped toward him, accepting the blow, as she swung her sword in one smooth motion—at which point, Vijar deftly evaded it.

“Hmph. What’s that? A bluff? Or have you trained your body over time to move that way?” Vijar growled ferociously—not out of wariness but out of glee.

“Nestling, we’re done over here, but you seem to have your work cut out for you. How about it? Care for a hand?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I accept help from you to kill her, it’ll tarnish my legacy. The whole point is to win in single combat so word spreads far and wide.”

“Yes, good point, Sir Vijar. Well, what’ll we do, then, Lady Nasrenée? Perhaps rip through that shield wall and proceed—”

“You think I’d allow that?!”

Remedios ignored her opponent Vijar and raced toward the two unguarded subhumans. But…

“You insolent shrew! I told you, I’m your opponent!”

Vijar wasn’t about to allow this to happen. Though Remedios had shown all her weak points, he didn’t chop her with his battle-ax but sent her flying with a kick. Taking the full brunt of the attack, she slammed into the shields behind her.

For a moment, she lost her breath in the impact.

“Eeegh!” The people shrieked in terror.

“Don’t get distracted, human! Fight me like you mean it!”

She heard his footsteps as he shouted and approached. If he swung that huge battle-ax, the people holding the shields would be thrown, and a giant hole, impossible to stitch back together, would rip open in the formation.

Nearly losing her balance, Remedios stepped firmly and charged back to meet Vijar, who had already drawn close.

If possible, she wanted to finish him off using only her own power. She decided to use the energy she had been saving for the other two.

This was the power of Holy Sword Safarlissia that could be used only one time per day.

It would unleash a boosted Holy Attack.

It was an incredibly powerful attack that only a paladin wielding this sword could perform.

Her gut said not to do it. But if she didn’t kill Vijar this instant, many innocent people would fall victim to the other two subhumans.

This…is for Lady Calca!

“—!”

With a wordless battle cry, Remedios shook off her instincts crying out in alarm and mentally gave the command to her weapon. At the same time, she prepared the Holy Attack.

Sacred light suffused the sword, and its blade shone twice as bright.

Supposedly, the more evil one was, the more dazzling the light appeared when looking at the sword, and attacks in this state were difficult to evade or block. “Supposedly” because the glow Remedios saw wasn’t very impressive.

She swung the Holy Sword from overhead with all her might.

With her balance off, it must have been easy to anticipate the arc of her blade, and Vijar had no trouble blocking it with his battle-ax, but—

“—!”

With another wordless cry, Remedios continued bringing her sword down against the ax.

She wasn’t trying to land a hit by winning a contest of strength.

The light of her attack traveled along the arc, past the ax’s blade, and into Vijar’s body.

This was Holy Sword Safarlissia’s greatest move.

A divine attack that disregarded all defense and protection.

The toughness of the armor, scales, or outer skin made no difference. It could even penetrate enchantments on equipment, so this was an unstoppable attack that could not be blocked with a weapon or shield.

Dodging instead of blocking would spare the target from a direct hit,
but after being blinded by the dazzling blade, how could anyone reliably evade Remedios’s attack?

As the blinding wave dissipated, the holy light in the blade went out.

But then Remedios’s eyes widened.

Despite the direct hit, Vijar didn’t seem hurt at all.

“…Huh? That was an awfully flashy move, but it hardly hurt at all. Is it all just for show? I mean, that caught me by surprise, but…”

Remedios was astounded.

He’s not evil!

This attack was effective in proportion to the opponent’s wickedness. Conversely, if they weren’t very evil at all, it dealt very little damage. To someone who possessed a good nature, it would do virtually nothing. In other words, Vijar, who hadn’t been hurt, was not a paragon of virtue, but neither was he evil.

But he’s causing so much suffering! He’s invading our country, yet he’s not considered evil?!

“Hee-hee-hee. That was a tremendous light, Sir Vijar. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” asked Harisha, bleary-eyed.

“That was so bright… The light is still burned into my eyes,” Nasrenée grumbled.

That was a mistake.
Her gut had been right; she shouldn’t have used this attack on Vijar.

After moving his arms and legs to confirm nothing was wrong with his body, Vijar shrugged. He appeared unguarded, but there were no openings Remedios could spot.

“…Tremendous light? I dunno. Didn’t seem like much to me.”

“…Vijar, I’m surprised. If you could take that attack and be fine…I may have misjudged you.”

“Hoh-hoh! So you finally get it? Ha-ha-ha. Now then, human. You’ve been an excellent foil for me. If you surrender now, I’ll grant you a death free of suffering.”

“Cut it out—that’s not even funny! This match hasn’t been decided yet!” Remedios raised her sword and shouted at the three subhumans.

And it was true. Remedios still had plenty of fight in her. Raising her injured hand, she cast a healing spell. A delicate warmth took her pain away.

If he’s not evil, then I can’t use most of my paladin skills against him…but the other two said the light was bright, so I can just save the skills for them.

She would simply have to face Vijar as a plain warrior.

“Hee-hee-hee. Then we’ll leave it to you, Sir Vijar. I suppose we’ll mop up the humans over there.”

“What?! You dirty—!” All the paladins she had called to fight were dead. There was no way the levies could handle those two. “I won’t let you!”

Remedios moved back to a position from which she could confront all three of the subhumans.

“You seem to want to fight all of us, but we told Vijar we’d let him handle it.”

“Hee-hee-hee. Our objective is to exterminate the humans in this city. We can’t just concentrate on you. Lady Nasrenée, what if you made all those humans behind her vanish with your power?”

“Yes, hmm…”

Nasrenée manifested magical energy in three of her four hands. One was chill, one was fire, and one was lightning.

“Shit!”

Remedios sprinted toward the female subhuman—

“I’ve been telling you over and over! Why do you refuse to listen?
I’m
your opponent!”

Vijar’s roar was accompanied by a sweeping battle-ax swing that sent Remedios flying when she blocked it with her sword.

At this point, she knew it was impossible to deal with Nasrenée while facing Vijar. She could leap at Nasrenée, but in exchange for blocking one of her attacks, she would open herself up to Vijar.

Impossible…? I can’t accept that! Saying
I can’t
is just an excuse!

The groans of the people stirred her heart.

Remedios didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of these ordinary
citizens, who were standing their ground despite their terror because they believed in her.

She would never—she was the only one who would never give up on Calca’s ideal:
a country where no one cries
.

“Militia! Full retreat!”

As she gave the order, she steeled her resolve.

One hit won’t kill me. I’ll use Fortress and rush that female!

Perhaps misunderstanding something, Vijar chuckled as Remedios set off running.

“Oh-ho? You seem so determined. That’s it! Fight with all you’ve got! Make it a battle that will go down as legend! Duel Declaration!”

“Huh?”

“Gwaaaaaargh!” Vijar roared with a special power. Remedios had been changing course for Nasrenée, but now her feet carried her toward Vijar as if they’d gone haywire. And it wasn’t only her feet. Her blade, her attention, and her gaze were all focused on Vijar, and she couldn’t turn away.

“Fireball!”

A tier-three area-of-effect attack spell whizzed past her into the militia formation. Remedios may have been able to withstand such magic, but for the civilians, it would be fatal—

“Wall of Skeleton!”

A grotesque wall of skeletons appeared before the militia, and the Fireball spell splashed off it.

Someone yelped in surprise.

First, because the situation was incomprehensible. But the surprise gradually transformed—because they spotted a figure floating down to the top of the horrifying bone wall as if gravity didn’t apply to it.

And its voice spoke with no bitterness and so much kindness, it felt out of place on the battlefield.

“I realize this could be a valuable lesson about war, but I can’t watch a three-on-one fight. You don’t mind if I join, do you?”

The owner of the voice was an undead.

There wasn’t a single person in the city who didn’t know who he was.
It was none other than the same person who had refused to fight on this battlefield because he needed to recover his mana.

It was the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Whooooooo!
An earthshaking cheer went up from behind the wall.

Remedios clenched her hand around her sword.

“Wh-who’s this?”

“…Looks to be an elder lich. Apparently, some varieties don’t have any skin. But…an elder lich that can block my magic? Plus, that magnificent robe… Could it be…? Or does he have an immensely powerful master controlling him from somewhere else?”

The voices of the subhumans didn’t reach Remedios. The sounds entered her ears, but she didn’t understand them. That was how hard she was trying to suppress her intense hatred. She didn’t even notice that Vijar had let his guard down.

—Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Why is he here?! Why are they bathing him in applause?! Why?! Why?! This nasty undead!

On some level, the calmer part of Remedios knew it was a natural reaction, since he had saved them from certain doom. But the part of her that could never forgive them for cheering for an undead was far stronger. Before her lay the dead paladins, who had died for them.

You would cheer for the guy who showed up late, but not for those who fought to protect you?!

It made her want to rip her helmet off, hurl it to the ground, and roll around tearing her hair out.

Desperately suppressing her rage, she asked the undead perched on the bone wall, “Why are you here?”

The King of Darkness froze. Then the crimson flames burning in his vacant orbits turned from the subhumans to Remedios.

“…Why…am I here…? My intention was to help, but…?”

“…I see.”

Why didn’t you come sooner? You were waiting for the paladins to die, weren’t you? Because you wanted to look cool in front of the people!

She wanted to spit those thoughts at him. But—

“Then I’ll leave it to you.” She couldn’t say she was counting on him. She didn’t want to. “Please remove the wall.”

“Hrm?”

“I’ll leave it to you!” she shouted before managing to control herself. “Please remove the wall. Can’t you do that?”

“…Sure I can.”

The wall beneath the king’s feet disappeared. The reason he didn’t fall must have been because he was using Fly or something.

Remedios opened her back up to Vijar completely. She didn’t care if he cut her down from behind. She would be able to laugh at the King of Darkness for his failure to protect her.

But—perhaps unfortunately for Remedios, ruled as she was by this self-destructive despair—she made it back to the militia lines without being attacked by the subhumans.

The levies looked somewhat frightened. Was her face that upsetting?

“The King of Darkness can take care of this position! We’ll go reinforce a location where the situation is more precarious!”

When she gave the order, the atmosphere was one of confusion, and the troops exchanged glances.

“Why are you hesitating?!”

When Remedios glared at them, one stepped forward and mumbled, “Ah, n-no. It’s just…you’re leaving His Majesty the King of Darkness…on his own…?”

“The King of Darkness is strong! Right? This’ll be no problem for him. Let’s go!”

Remedios set off with the militia who couldn’t help but keep looking back numerous times. They headed for another battlefield.

Staring at the empty space where they had been, Ainz mumbled, “Huh…? That jerk, she actually saddled me with the whole fight.”

The situation was so ludicrous, he let his true feelings show in spite of himself.

Wouldn’t that normally be a “let’s team up” sort of scene? How can you just shove everything off on the one who came to rescue you? You’d think she’d at least hesitate and ask if it was all right first… She didn’t even thank me for saving her! What’s up with that?

He felt the irritation in him rising. But he wasn’t furious, so the emotion wasn’t automatically suppressed. A smoldering anger remained, however.

It felt like he had to work overtime to cover for someone else’s screwup, but then the person responsible left first, saying they had an errand to run. No…

I was more angry then. I mean, I had
Yggdrasil
to get home to… The guild had plans, so me being late caused trouble for everybody! Although everyone laughed and forgave me when I told them what had happened…

With fuel added to his smoldering anger, it grew into a blaze. And was forcibly extinguished.

“Hmm… My anger was checked just now, but I’m actually still upset. I don’t think I’ve ever been treated so disrespectfully,” Ainz mumbled to himself.

People had shouted at him to shut up before, but that was a completely different situation. For starters, he had raced to the rescue despite their understanding that he would not participate in this battle. Anyone with some common sense would have treated him a bit differently.

Everyone Ainz had met so far had an understanding of basic courtesy.

Maybe that was the reason for his surprisingly intense displeasure?

When he dug further back in his memories as Satoru Suzuki, he seemed to remember meeting a few people like Remedios. Not that that was any consolation.

Ainz glared at the three subhumans as if this was all their fault.

He knew he was just taking his frustrations out on them.

After being saved from such a dangerous situation, Remedios’s opinion of Ainz
should
have improved a zillion percent; she should have apologized profusely for her past rudeness and set about working hard on all sorts of things for him. That was why he had waited up in the sky, using Perfect Unknowable, until she was in a tight spot and then swooped in to save her at the most opportune moment.

But this was the treatment he got instead.

Of all the results he could have gotten, this was the most incomprehensible.

If he hadn’t met his quota as the end of the month drew near and a coworker came to save him, he would have been bursting with gratitude. Of course, his savior would have already finished their own work, so they would be going out of their way to help on their own time.

Watching the battle with a bird’s-eye view, Ainz had grasped the whole situation. There were several areas more precarious than this one. He even knew the little girl who was always scowling at him was in danger.

Still, he had come here because he figured that if he was going to make someone indebted to him, it was better to hook the bigger fish—the commander of Sacred Kingdom Roebel’s Paladin Order.

But…

“I really am a bit offended,” he murmured in spite of himself. Just then, he heard a grating laugh.

“Hee-hee-hee. Seems like you’ve been left high and dry. Hee-hee-hee. How sad, how sad.”

“An elder lich. And one with exceptional power as a caster. We need to be careful. I don’t know that spell he created the wall with, but it must be fairly high tier.”

“Hmph. So he’s a caster? That doesn’t make me very eager to fight. I can’t get my praises sung in legends unless I defeat a warrior.”

The three subhumans chatted away, seeming to have regained their composure. Ainz turned to the primate one who had laughed.

“That’s no problem. We’ll kill him and then—”

“Shut up,” Ainz interrupted and silently cast the tier-eight spell Death.

The subhuman crumpled slowly to the ground with a twitching smile still on his face.

“…Huh? What did he—?”

“I said shut up.” Ainz silently cast Death again.

The four-legged subhuman collapsed in the same way.

The lone survivor didn’t seem to understand what was happening, but she knew who had caused it to happen.

“Y-you did this? Both of them…in an instant…?”

Her face was branded with fear, and her whole body was trembling.

“Yeah, uh-huh.” He flicked a silent Death spell at her. “Hrm?”

She wasn’t dead. Ainz’s spell had been ineffective.

The moment he realized that, he immediately switched gears and entered the mental state that could be called combat mode.

Was it a racial trait that had blocked it? Or a magic spell? Did she just have resistance? Or did an enchanted item defend her? Could it have been something else?

A one in ten thousand fluke was not completely out of the question, but Ainz found it hard to believe she could have resisted the attack with her own power. He had been observing the three subhumans as they fought. Even if he hadn’t seen them at full strength yet, he certainly didn’t get the impression that she could weather the raw output of his magic.

When he wondered,
Now what?
he figured he should be cautious and give the enemy a turn.

And besides, it was possible this was a chance to acquire intel he couldn’t get anywhere else. If this was an opportunity to see the cards of an opponent who could block his spells, he definitely wanted to take a peek at their hand.

“Hrm… It doesn’t matter what she did. What a waste of time. If I had known this was going to happen, I would have forsaken that woman and gone to assist elsewhere. If I was going to fight alongside that one, then I
should have taken some extra time to make it seem like I won after a rough battle…”

Before her stood a rambling undead.

What’s with this guy…? There’s no way an undead would naturally ally with humans. He must be controlled by a necromancer. But he’s so powerful…

She had no idea what he had done, but the fact was, he had killed two warriors as strong as her in an instant. Who could control such a powerful undead?

If his fingers pointed her way, would death rain down on her, too?

Aside from Evil Emperor Jaldabaoth, the only ones she knew who could do something like that were maybe his great demon aides.

There’s no way! Only a god could control an undead who compares to those mighty demons! There can’t be a necromancer that powerful!

If the human world had a necromancer that strong, the subhuman alliance wouldn’t have been able to invade like this.

Should I run? Should I run while I have the chance? Is it impossible?

She didn’t have any spells that were handy for fleeing. She had never been in such a tight spot before, so she had never felt the need to acquire one.

Then…the only way to live is to press forward!

“Ahhhhhhhh!” With a battle cry to rouse her spirit, she cast a spell with trembling lips.

There was a tier-four arcane spell called Silver Lance. Though it did physical damage, it also had effects of the silver attribute and brought incredibly destructive power to bear on enemies vulnerable to silver. Not only that, it had the special piercing attribute and could do more damage to an enemy not wearing armor. The downside, then, was that armor could greatly reduce its potency.

Nasrenée’s ace move was her own variation on that powerful spell.

Burning Lance, which dealt fire damage.

Freezing Lance, which dealt ice damage.

Shocking Lance, which dealt lightning damage.

All three dealt purely elemental damage that couldn’t be reduced with
armor, and they boasted the same piercing capability as Silver Lance, making them all brutal spells.

Naturally, such baleful magic came at a price, and they cost far more mana than a comparable tier-four spell.

She cast three of the strongest spells at her disposal all at the same time.

One would already drain quite a lot of mana, but she invoked three simultaneously. Combined with the fact that simultaneous casting itself consumed additional mana, using that much energy at once made her feel floaty, like her consciousness was fading, if only for a brief moment.

“Periiiiiish!”

The three lances flew toward the undead—and disappeared.

“Huh?!”

She couldn’t understand what had just happened before her eyes. If he had taken the hit but endured it, that would have made sense. But the lances had vanished without a trace.

“Uh? Um? Wh-what?!”

“…I gave you time, and this was all you could come up with? I assume that was supposed to be your ace move? Hmph. I guess I didn’t need to be cautious and give you a chance after all. I’ve spent enough time on this. Just die already. Maximize Magic: Reality Slash.”

5

There’s a raven-black world

I don’t know what I am

My eyes seem open, but I don’t know what eyes are

I don’t know the meaning of
raven-black
or
world
, either

So I don’t know why those things come up

I don’t know anything

I’m disappearing

I don’t know what it means to disappear

But I’m disappearing

Suddenly, though, I feel something pulling me

Up, down, right, left, toward the middle, to somewhere…

The completed world draws me in

A poor soul who was made whole by friends’ creations

A closed-minded soul who thought there was no greater treasure

And then…the world is awash in a bright-white light

A great sense of loss…

A break from solitude…

Neia Baraja blinked repeatedly, trying to bring her blurry vision into focus.

She felt like something had happened, but she couldn’t remember anything. Just that she had been fighting with the subhumans.
What happened?

“…That was a close one,” said a quiet voice, and Neia turned her unusually piercing, half-open eyes toward the sound.

It looked like darkness.

Not the type of darkness that frightened children. The kind of darkness an exhausted person took comfort in.

It was the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown.

“Your…Maj…esty…”

Neia reached out without thinking, like an anxious child reaching for her father…

“Neia Baraja. Don’t try to move too much. Leave this to me and rest.”

Behind him, Neia could see subhumans frantically trying to attack him. They stabbed, slashed, and punched.

But the King of Darkness paid them no mind. He spoke kindly to Neia as if nothing were happening at all.

Neia recalled what had happened when he fought Buser.

Meanwhile, the king reached into his robe, and after seeming to hesitate for a moment, he pulled out a poisonous-looking purple potion. Potions were usually blue.

Even when he sprinkled the poisonous-looking potion over her, Neia didn’t worry. Whatever His Majesty did had to be the right course of action.

Her prediction was right, of course. The purple liquid healed her wounds instantaneously. It seemed even the Nation of Darkness’s potion colors were different.

“You seem pretty far from a full recovery, but first let’s get rid of your fatigue… This is annoying, tch. It seems the militia has been wiped out… Ah, but it looks like there are some over there. In that case…”

The king turned to face the subhumans attacking behind him.

Combat was still raging in various locations throughout the city, and people were dying with each passing second. But for that moment, Neia forgot all about it. She was captivated by how heroic the King of Darkness looked as he stood up to protect her.

She no longer felt any worry or anxiety about the huge subhuman army.

This was the one she had hoped for.

So he was here. I see…

Neia felt certain that she had received a perfect answer to the question that had been on her mind.

The King of Darkness casually shot off a spell.

Dazzling lightning crackled in the sky over the wall. It was apparently a spell called Chain Dragon Lightning.

The subhumans on the wall were completely wiped out. It was over so quickly, it was hard to believe a desperate battle had been unfolding only moments ago.

“D…id…you…get them…all?”

“No, there is fighting still going on some distance from here, so I didn’t catch them all. It wasn’t— Napalm. Okay…now that’s all of them. I guess I have to finish off the next fools who climb up, too. Widen Magic: Wall of Skeleton.”

Outside, where the subhuman army was, a massive brace of skeletons towered as if they were reinforcements come to hold up the city wall. Her view was blocked, so she couldn’t see, but she could hear the screams of the
subhumans that had been coming up the ladders. And the sounds of them falling and hitting the ground.

“And then all that’s left are the ones out there in formation… But I sent some undead out before coming here. They’ll finish them off sooner or later.”

As he said that, he took out another potion. This one was completely different from the last, in a stunningly beautiful, delicate bottle. She didn’t know what the potion’s effect would be, but she could tell by looking that it was valuable.

“I…I’m all right…Your Majesty…”

“…Don’t hold back. I’m sorry I was late saving you.”

Shielding the upper half of his face with his hand as if it was bright out, the King of Darkness sprinkled the potion on her. The weakness in her body melted away. But she still felt lethargic. It was as if something inside her had been whittled down. But in the same measure—no, to an even greater extent—she felt a warmth gathering at her core.

Like this, she could get up. She still hurt here and there so much it brought tears to her eyes, but she couldn’t bear to remain in this impolite posture before the one who had saved her.

“Don’t, Miss Baraja. There’s no need to get up.”

When she tried to move, a hand pressed her shoulder back down till she was lying flat again.

“We can have them carry you…as you are. Hey, over here!”

He must have been waving to militiamen.

Then Neia realized with a start—that she had been so moved, she had neglected to ask the question she absolutely had to ask.

“Your Majesty, will everything be all right? With you coming to save us. You used up the mana you were saving for the fight with Jaldabaoth.”

“It’ll be fine. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“Your Majesty…” Something clicked inside her. “I understand.”

“Hmm? You understand what?”

The King of Darkness waited for Neia to continue.

“I understand what justice is now.”

“Oh, you found your sense of justice? Good for you… Is it about protecting the weak or something?”

His voice was kind, so she answered with confidence.

“It’s you, Your Majesty. You are justice.”

The King of Darkness froze for just a moment.

“………Hmm?”

“I understand now! You are justice, Your Majesty!”

“……………Oh, I see. You’re tired. You should take a good rest. When you’re tired, all sorts of crazy ideas pop into your head. You don’t want to flail around in embarrassment after the fact, right?”

“I am tired, but more than that, I feel so much better knowing that I wasn’t wrong, that you really are justice!”

“N-no, like I said before, I’m not justice. Look, justice is the way of thinking where protecting the weak is a matter of course—stuff like that. It’s, uh, usually considered an…abstract concept?”

“No. Justice without strength is meaningless. And power alone, like Jaldabaoth has, isn’t justice, either. So having power and using it for the right purpose, like saving others—that’s true justice. And that means that you, Your Majesty, are justice!” Neia said, wide-eyed. The King of Darkness suddenly held a hand over her eyes as if he was putting an infant to bed. The cool touch of his hand’s bones made Neia’s cheeks relax into a smile.

“………Okay. If you talk too loud, you can feel it in your wounds, can’t you? Let’s put a pin in that and discuss it later.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Hearing multiple sets of footsteps, she shifted her gaze to see paladins and members of the militia jogging over.

“Your Majesty, thank you for coming to save us.”

“Don’t mention it.” The King of Darkness slowly got to his feet as he replied.

Feeling lonely as he was about to go, Neia nearly reached out for his robe, but she realized what an embarrassing thing that would be to do and managed to hold back.

“Actually, do mention it. And then return the favor. I’d like you to take
Miss Neia Baraja somewhere safe. You can’t see them from here, but the undead I created are out at the subhuman camp. I think it’ll be fine to keep minimal personnel here for a while.”

“Your Majesty—”

“Neia Baraja. And subjects of Roebel. Leave the rest of this to me. I promise I will save as many of this city’s people as possible.” He floated into the air. “Also, sorry—but could you transport those three subhuman corpses for me? They were powerful, so I’d like to examine them thoroughly.”

He pointed at the three bodies. They seemed quite impressive.

“Collect them, gear and all. You can be rough with the bodies, but take care not to break their items. Thanks!”

After watching the king fly away, a paladin turned to Neia. “Squire Neia Baraja, we’d like to transport you as you are, but…we don’t have anything to use as a stretcher. Are you able to stand?”

“Yes, I’ll manage.”

She slowly got to her feet. Her legs trembled, and when she put her weight on them, they hurt. One of the militiamen lent her a shoulder to hold.

When she peered over the side of the wall, the unit that had been guarding the west gate was gone, and there wasn’t a single corpse, either. The clanging of swords she heard on the wind was fairly distant. It seemed like descending via the tower and taking the shortest route possible would be fine.

Scanning the sky for the king, who had flown off, and feeling disappointed to not find so much as an outline or blip, Neia entered the tower.

As Ainz visited attack magic down on the subhumans who had invaded the city, he thought over the events that had just occurred and frowned.

What a huge loss. I really went in the wrong order. I should have prioritized Neia Baraja over that horrible woman.

By choosing to rescue Remedios Custodio first, he had been late getting to Neia. And as a result, Neia had died. Which meant Ainz had to use
a high-tier wand to resurrect her—because he didn’t want her to turn to ashes like some lizardmen did in his previous revival attempts, and he didn’t know what level she was.

To be frank, it wasn’t clear if the cost of resurrecting Neia was proportionate to the benefits Ainz and Nazarick would receive. That said, having completely failed to put Remedios in his debt, he decided to resurrect Neia to at least have someone who owed him.

…Would a tier-seven Resurrection Wand have done it? Maybe I went overboard. It’ll take another hour for the ring to free up…

Of his eight rings, Ainz was looking at the one on his right thumb.

A Ring of Mastery: Wand.

It was an ultrarare, boss-dropped artifact.

As a rule, wands containing spells could be used only by casters who had acquired magic of the same type. For example, a wand loaded with the tier-one faith magic spell Light Healing could be used only by a faith caster. Using a spell from a different type of magic required a staff, which was more expensive.

A patch later gave all players access to some wands, but a tier-nine True Resurrection Wand wasn’t one Ainz could normally use.

Yet, his ring made it possible.

The only thing was he could use only one type of wand at a time. After that, there was an hour-long cooldown before he could switch. Using the ring consumed mana, too, so it was a costly item overall.

Since it was so rare, there weren’t many Ainz Ooal Gown members who had one; the only reason Ainz did was because Amanomahitotsu gave it to him when he quit.

Well, I doubt I’ll need to use
that
wand right away, so I guess I don’t need to worry. Huh, but I just noticed if you cover her eyes, she actually seems to respect me. Her every word just… Does this mean she trusts me now? Hmm. I wonder.

Ainz recalled her reaction.

I feel like she was truly grateful…but also like she was glaring at me. Her face is so chilling. Maybe I should recommend she wear sunglasses.

But he figured he would never be able to say such a thing. He knew from their time in the carriage together that she was self-conscious about her eyes.

If he told a woman in the office who had BO,
You stink
, to her face and handed her a bottle of perfume, how would she react?

I get the feeling the respect I’ve cultivated would vanish, and all that would be left is hostility…

And Ainz—Satoru Suzuki—didn’t have the stones to say such a thing.

At that point, he spotted some subhumans below and fired an area-of-effect spell to wipe them out. In response, the militiamen, who had been fighting them, waved their arms up at him in such huge arcs that a whooshing sound effect would have seemed natural. Ainz raised a hand—he would have moved it only slightly, but since he was so far away, he raised it higher—to reply.

That’s right. I’m the friendly King of Darkness. Be grateful, everyone… But seriously, does resurrection magic drive people insane or make them act weird? If she was just excited, that’s fine, but…

He was thinking of Neia.

No matter how he looked at it, that had been a strange interaction. When they parted before the battle, she had been normal, but once he revived her, she started acting like that.

Is she deranged? Can magic cure it? If it’s an effect of resurrection, that’s a bit scary. It would suck if her humanity warped over time or something.

Her murderous eyes had been abnormally rapt and seemed to shine with a disturbing inner light.

I mean, she was mistaking me for justice. Will she recover after resting…? Oh, almost forgot.

Ainz turned his gaze toward the enemy camp.

It was partially destroyed, and soul eaters raced through the mess of fleeing subhumans. That was all it took for their instadeath aura to wipe them out. And after devouring so much, the soul eaters grew even more powerful.

When soul eaters appeared in
Yggdrasil
, players generally encountered
them at a reasonable level, so they only dealt instant death once every few hundred times. Which is why they were never able to eat any souls.

But this time was different. Their chance to really flex their ability had arrived.

“Souls… Dang, I should have done an experiment.”

Ainz quickly descended to the ground. Then he used Create Middle-Tier Undead to create a soul eater.

Go.

When he gave the mental command, the soul eater set off running. At the same time, he gave an order to the soul eaters already trampling subhumans to their hearts’ content outside—to leave enough prey for the new one to eat its fill.

Undead made from corpses didn’t disappear after a set time. But why was that?

If it’s the soul that’s the medium, not the flesh, then it’s possible that soul eaters, having eaten souls, won’t disappear. Not that I have a particular use for the answer either way. But it’s better to know than not.

He flew into the air again to confirm the safety of the city. He had mopped up the vast majority of the subhumans, but it was best to take every precaution.

Urk, that aggravating woman is down there. I’ll just ignore her.

Shifting his attention away from Remedios, Ainz flew around.

Wherever he went, he heard cheers. Waving back at the people as he confirmed there were no subhumans—that the combat had been brought to an end—he headed for the war room. He would return to Nazarick if he had time after getting through all the annoying discussions he had to have.

“This had better all go well…”

An overpowering anxiety welled up within him until it was automatically suppressed. But the feeling like a gradual seeping of icy water remained.

I need to Message Demiurge and tell him I’ll see him in Nazarick.

Once Ainz had made his move, victory was all but assured. After wiping out the subhumans in the city and tending to two other matters, Ainz returned to his room.

His first errand had been to pop into Caspond’s quarters and ask him to take care of the little odds and ends that were left. Mainly, he told him they could have all the food and other items—besides anything enchanted—that were left at the subhuman camp after it had been overrun.

Common sense would dictate that whatever the subhumans had possessed would belong to Ainz now, since he had single-handedly annihilated their camp. Throwing everything into the exchange box would probably yield some decent income, but keeping it all for himself could make the people feel less indebted to him after he had worked so hard to set up this situation. So he decided to take a strategic loss and yield most of the loot to the Sacred Kingdom. Of course, there might have been valuable magic items in the mix, and he had no intention of giving those up.

Really, Ainz should have gone to the camp on his own to scope things out using Magical Vision Boost or See Through Mana along with other investigation spells, but he didn’t feel it was necessary. Demiurge was already aware of what magic items the subhumans possessed. Even if he had missed one, it wouldn’t be something that could pose a threat to Ainz. If there had been something dangerous, it would have stood out.

His other errand had been to pick up the items the three stronger subhumans had been carrying. As expected, no one had swiped anything, and he was able to acquire their enchanted gear without a hitch. Of course, he had an idea how valuable the items were from the amount of mana they contained, but he still wondered if there might not be something that made them unique.

Dropping the items in a heap on his bed, his plan was to appraise each one using magic, but he had something he needed to do first.

“It’s time!” he said out loud.

Partly it was to psych himself up, but that wasn’t the only reason.

It was a necessary step before contacting Demiurge with Message.

When Ainz pulled out a scroll—Demiurge brand, naturally—and activated it, rabbit ears sprouted from his skull.

He used them to listen in on his surroundings, but there didn’t seem to be anyone snooping. But that wasn’t enough to give him peace of mind. Given the existence of magic that erased sounds, such as the tier-two spell Silence, and similar thief abilities, the lack of noise alone wasn’t enough to declare the coast clear.

It’s all thanks to Demiurge and the ranch he runs that I can use so many scrolls. And the money for creating the scrolls can be acquired by just tossing a bunch of produce into the exchange box. I’ve felt this way for a while, but Nazarick is starting to become pretty efficient…

For tier-one spells like Rabbit Ears, he had been able to make do with regular parchment that could be found in this world, but for anything much higher, it had been necessary to use materials left over from the
Yggdrasil
era. Now their production covered some of that resource consumption.

Yes, they could swap out materials for only up through tier-three spells, but Demiurge’s work was still a huge contribution. He was, without a doubt, the one who had accomplished the most. In second place was the one who perfectly managed Nazarick’s day-to-day, Albedo.

Continuing with his preparations, Ainz used Create Lower-Tier Undead to create a wraith.

Take a look around and see if there is anyone watching me.

Following his orders, the wraith exited the room without opening the door. Since wraiths had astral forms, they were able to pass through walls. There were limits when it came to thick or dense obstacles, so they didn’t work in every situation, but the walls of this building posed no challenge.

Ainz focused his attention to his magic ears.

Could any thief, even one extremely good at hiding, stay completely still without moving so much as a muscle in the presence of an undead who had appeared all of a sudden scattering an aura of Fear? They would need enough concealment skills to evade the wraith as well. Of course, it
wasn’t hard to trick a lower-tier wraith, but doing it all at once would be quite a feat.

In the first case, Ainz didn’t believe anyone was that capable. If someone like that existed in this country, they would have been sent to fight in the two most recent battles.

Still, I can’t rule out the possibility that the people of this country are still on guard against me and are hiding their hero. But given that woman’s personality, I highly doubt it. If there was someone like that around, I assume Demiurge would’ve told me about them by now.

But as soon as he finished the thought, he wondered if that was really true.

Was it possible Demiurge thought Ainz would know even if he didn’t inform him?

…Agh, the more I think about this, the more my stomach hurts.

If there was an oversight that big, he would have to brace himself and call Demiurge and Albedo together for a talk.

Soon the undead returned.

“Spot anyone?”

The undead replied, “Negative.” And Ainz didn’t hear anything strange, either.

“Got it. Then hide in the wall and patrol the area.”

Watching the undead enter the wall, Ainz made up his mind.

Okay, now I have to Message Demiurge.

It was a simple matter, but he was having trouble getting himself to do it.

He felt just like an employee on business who knew he would get chewed out by his boss when he got back to the office.

But he couldn’t put it off forever, and Demiurge contacting him first wouldn’t be any more pleasant.

“C’mon, me, let’s do this!”

With that small cheer for himself, he sent Demiurge a Message. He had simulated the conversation plenty of times in his head. All he had to do now was actually say the words.

But before he had a chance to go through the motions of taking some
deep breaths to relax—and only mere moments after he triggered the spell—Demiurge connected. The response time was insanely quick.

“Demiurge?”

“This is he, Lord Ainz.”

“Mm.” He had rehearsed this over and over. Essentially, all he had to do now was recite his prepared lines. “I figured you might be wondering about the disparity between the reports and my actions. I know what you want to say, but if I’m going to explain all the details, I think Albedo should be present as well. Go back to the Great Tomb of Nazarick at once. I will also return immediately. Let’s meet at the log cabin on the surface.”

“Understood. I will go ahead and contact Albedo.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Ainz cut off the Message without further ado. Then he emitted a long, heavy sigh.

Ahhh, phew. He didn’t seem angry. Ack, that was terrifying.

Ainz had been fairly afraid that he would anger his outstanding subordinate, so his body practically crumpled with relief before he tensed up and stared at the wall.

The wraith’s work was done. Since friendly fire was possible, he could destroy his undead like Shalltear did, but there was no need to waste the energy; it was simple to return them to where they came from. Incidentally, he didn’t even have to voice the command; just thinking it was plenty. That was enough to know which tenuous connection to break.

That said, he had countless connections stretching out in the direction of E-Rantel. For those, he wasn’t as confident that he could do what he wanted if he didn’t give orders vocally, but in the immediate area, he had created only a few undead, so he could tell them apart with no trouble.

Be gone. Now then, back to Nazarick for a day…

Now Ainz had an extremely unpleasant job to do, which could be filed under fabricating excuses or cajoling. If he could have delegated it, he would have, but that wasn’t possible. Who would even do it?

Running his hands over the items on the table that had belonged to that trio of subhumans, he tried to forget about his anxieties.

Hrm. They’re weak and not worth much, but I’m still happy to have acquired some enchanted items from this world… While I’m not as bad as Pandora’s Actor, I admit I might have a bit of a thing for collecting them…

First, he appraised the items that had belonged to the four-armed subhuman. He discovered how she had blocked his instadeath attack—an Armband of Death Guard. It offered perfect resistance against an instadeath spell once a day.

Holding it up, he turned it around in his hands a few times before placing it back on the table.

Boring. I wish they had better stuff… Anyhow.

Just as he was about to leave, there came a knock at the door and a voice: “Your Majesty King of Darkness, it’s Neia Baraja.”

Ainz did a quick appearance check. Then he glanced around the room to make sure everything was fit for an absolute ruler. After that, he slowly sat down and assumed posture number twenty-four.

“Enter.” He said it in as dignified a voice as possible. That voice, too, was the fruit of rehearsal after rehearsal.

The door opened, and Neia, fully healed, entered. Then she bowed.

“Thank you very much for allowing me in, Your Majesty. I’m here to perform my role as your attendant.”

“Hmm, good of you to come, Miss Baraja. But there’s no reason for you to bend over backward to attend me today. It seems like your wounds have been healed, but you must be tired from the battle…”

Oh, wait, I’m stupid…
, thought Ainz. The potion he had used on her would have removed all her fatigue. It was the one Nfirea, with his dry, flaky skin, had raved about.

“No, thanks to Your Majesty, I’ll have no problems performing my attendant duties. And besides that, it makes me very happy to be near you.”

Neia grinned, or was it more of a smirk? It was hard to not detect some hostility or malice in her hair-raising smile. Ainz nearly braced himself, but he managed to rein it in and avoid disrupting his kingly bearing.

“…I see. But today I need to return to the Nation of Darkness and get some work done. I feel bad that you came over here for nothing, but…”

“Oh…”

She moped, but there wasn’t a single thing cute about it. He simply felt like she was glaring at him. Ainz decided to employ a countermeasure.

He closed his eyes. That way he didn’t have to look at hers.

“At any rate, I’m glad you’re safe—or rather, that you were able to make it back alive, Miss Baraja.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty! That’s also thanks to you. Without this armor, I don’t think I would have lasted until you arrived.”

You didn’t last… You were definitely dead… Well, all’s well that ends well. But it appears I was right about lending her armor that protected her against projectiles for a fight on a wall!

“Ho-ho. Good. How did the bow work for you? Were you able to impress a lot of people?”

“Yes… Many people saw the awesome power of this bow…but then they all died.”

“What?! …Ah, I see. So that’s what happened. A sad state of affairs.”

Another failure.
Ainz was disappointed in himself. Everyone who had seen the weapon in action was dead, so it was the same as if no one had seen it.
Maybe I should just give up on trying to promote rune weapons
. But then after a moment, he thought
No, there’s still a chance
. More importantly, he wouldn’t lose anything even if the plan failed, and he stood to gain a lot if it succeeded.

“Without the gear Your Majesty was kind enough to lend me, I would have been invited to heaven with the others… I’m truly grateful, Your Majesty.”

Yes!
thought Ainz; her thank-you seemed to have come from the bottom of her heart. Of course, he couldn’t openly celebrate. It was important to show her only an attitude befitting a king.

“Don’t concern yourself. You should know that it’s a master’s duty to protect his followers.”

Ainz opened his eyes for a peek and saw Neia’s face warp a bit at the word
follower
. She didn’t look angry, but on the other hand, she did seem offended. All he could do was trust that wasn’t how she felt, based on the context of their conversation and past interactions.

In any case, he felt that opening his eyes had been a mistake, so he closed them again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Also, the people you saved all feel the same way. They wanted me to tell you how grateful they are.”

“Ohhh?” He had to suppress the desire to shout,
Sweet!
“I didn’t do anything so special. I was simply at the right place at the right time to aid them. I don’t want them to assume that luck will hold. I used a tremendous amount of mana in that fight. Next time, I really won’t be able to save them.”

“Understood. I’ll let everyone know.”

“Very good. But, hmm…yes. Do tell them that if I meet them, I would be happy to hear their thanks in person… Anyhow, sorry, Neia, but I need to get going. I’ll see you later, uh… Could you come again in about four hours?”

“Yes! I will be waiting! Then if you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty.”

Neia left the room, and Ainz opened his eyes.

Yes, she definitely seems to be immensely thankful. With this, I finally have one person. But every long journey starts with a single step. Should I give her some healing potions free of charge as a sort of promo campaign? That would make her even more grateful… The rune weapon didn’t do much, but what if I gave her this…?

Ainz took out a purple potion.

It was one of the ones Nfirea had made. His potions were still under development and paled ever so slightly in comparison to those made in
Yggdrasil
. Still, maybe they would be just as effective soon; it might not be long before he could even make the red ones from the game.

I didn’t use any
Yggdrasil
stock because I felt like revealing the existence of red potions here would be a waste, but…I’m still a bit unsure that people used to blue potions will accept purple ones. It wasn’t a bad idea to use one here and establish a track record.

The potions Ainz was having Nfirea and his grandmother make were hidden away in Nazarick, and he had no intention of letting the technology get out. But it was possible the time to start selling them would eventually come. He figured a little setting up in advance couldn’t hurt.

I’m not too sure what’s the best move. Either way has its pros and cons. And Nfirea…

Frankly, getting asked advice on the things married people do at night was bothering him. Not that he got all the lurid details, but Ainz thought it might be awkward if it came out that Nfirea was discussing those sorts of things about his wife with him.

And besides, how had Nfirea come up with the idea to ask him in the first place? Ainz could only assume it was due to the fact that the young man had no father figure and had left behind the town he was from; he simply had no one else to turn to. Maybe he thought Ainz had that sort of relationship with Narberal.

Even though he knows I’m a skeleton…

Ainz eventually got so curious, he considered spying on them one night, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to treat them the same way afterward, so he refrained. Still, every time Nfirea inquired about something, he had to shrug off the renewed interest that flitted across the back of his mind.

When she realized it felt good, she wanted to do it more and more, or whatever, so… I can’t believe he asked me for that kind of potion… What would you even call it? A performance recovery potion? Anyhow, I have a ton, so I could give him some, but, like…

Ainz decided for the time being he would give them to the lizardmen and have them do their best to produce more rare children.

What is it people say? Tech is first applied in the military, then to sex, and then the medical field? Is that true? …​Anyhow, I guess I should head back.