A Brand-New Chapter

Everyone was waiting for spring. That was especially true in the farming

villages, where they could feel the soil coming back to life, but it was true for

those in the royal capital as well. Of course, the way they felt it was by the

disappearance of firewood and other heating fees.

But the day spring came to E-Rantel, there was only stillness.

The main road was deserted, as if everyone had died. But inside the

houses lining it with their shutters drawn—although looking closely, they

were open a crack—the presence of people could be felt. They were peeking

outside with bated breath.

It was the day that E-Rantel was transferred to Ainz Ooal Gown and

became a city of the Nation of Darkness.

The first castle gate opened, and the bells rang out in welcome.

After an appropriate pause, the second gate opened, and the bells rang

again.

Between the second and third gates was the area where most of the people

lived.

The reason the residents hadn't fled the city was that they knew that even

if they ran, their lives would be hopeless.

Even those who had attained the status of master or craftsman in E-Rantel

would have to start over as apprentice in a new city.

In a city with history, vested interests existed as a matter of course. It was

only natural that an outsider would start from the lowest level. In other

words, even if they went to another city, most people wouldn't be able to find

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proper work and would spend the rest of their lives in a slum.

Those with nowhere to run to—almost everyone—remained.

But even these people would run if their lives were in danger. Of course

they would. What they knew of their new lord—no, king—was that he was

horrible.

For instance, he was a caster who massacred the kingdom's army.

For instance, he was cold-blooded and immortal.

For instance, he was a monster who loved bathing in the blood of

children.

They had heard all sorts of rumors, none of them good.

That was why they were all hiding behind closed doors, in the shadows of

their windows, waiting to catch a glimpse of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Soon, his party came down the main road.

Everyone who saw him was rendered speechless—because he looked

exactly as the rumors said.

The first person was fine. At the head of the group was a beautiful woman

who shone like the moon.

She wore a snow-white dress and had lustrous black hair and skin like

white marble. Her bejeweled appearance was so overwhelming that it left no

room for lust or envy. But the horns growing out of her head, the black wings

sprouting from her hips, and more than anything, her impossible beauty was

proof that she wasn't human.

Following the peerless, goddess-like beauty came soldiers. At that point,

the residents shivered.

From the differences in armor, they could tell there were two groups.

To name the first group, perhaps "Knights of Death"?

Each knight carried a tower shield that covered three-quarters of their

body in their left hand and a flamberge in their right.

Under ragged raven-black capes, their hulking bodies—well over six feet

tall—were covered in full plate armor made of black metal with a pattern like

crimson blood vessels running over it. Sharp spikes jutted out here and there,

making the suit an embodiment of violence. Their helmets had demon horns

and open faces that left the beings' rotting features visible. In their vacant eye

sockets, their hatred for living things and anticipation of slaughter burned red.

As a name for the second group, "Warriors of Death" seemed appropriate.

They carried long-handled, single-edge swords and had an array of

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different weapons on their hips—hand axes, maces, crossbows, whips, short

spears. All their equipment had marks that showed they were well used.

They were over six feet tall and armored but lightly. It was unclear what

animal's leather it was, but they wore beat-up leather armor and wound curse

wraps—bandages with curses written on them—around their arms, face, and

so on. Peeking out from beneath the bandages were, like the other group,

crumbling features that definitely didn't belong to a living creature.

Every member in the group seemed inordinately powerful, but when the

people saw the palanquin they were carrying, their shock was overwritten by

a new awe and forgotten.

The undead seated on it radiated the overwhelming presence of death and

gave off a swirling black haze. Behind him shone a black halo.

Everyone knew immediately—this being was Ainz Ooal Gown.

We can't live under a creature like that. This goes far beyond the threat of

death. Many of them were convinced of that, but suddenly a door flew open.

Everyone who peered desperately through tiny gaps of cover to see what

was happening saw a boy running. He had something clenched in his hand as

he raced toward Ainz Ooal Gown's grotesque procession. A deathly pale

woman who seemed to be his mother was running after him.

"Give Daddy back!" His young, high-pitched voice echoed horribly

loudly. "Give Daddy back, you monster!"

He wound up and threw something. It was a stone.

The little rock he had been grasping flew toward the parade, probably at

Ainz Ooal Gown.

Perhaps because the boy had been nervous, the stone fell far short of its

target and rolled over the dirt.

Coming after him, the boy's mother looked like she might drop dead at

any moment, as though she fully understood what their fate would be. She

scooped her boy up from behind, desperately trying to shield him with her

own body.

"H-he's just a child! I beg you, please forgive him!"

The beautiful woman smiled in response to the mother's frantic plea.

We're saved. Anyone would think that and feel relief. It was such a

gentle, motherly smile.

"It was disrespectful to Lord Ainz. The punishment is death."

When had she taken it out? The beautiful woman was suddenly wielding a

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gigantic bardiche. Her strength was undoubtedly inhuman.

It was easy to imagine how it would be used, and that imagining could be

said to have been correct.

"What a rotten animal you've raised. You should be ashamed as a stock

breeder of how meager the price of its meat will be!"

Realizing what their fate would be as the beautiful woman approached,

the mother squeezed her son tightly.

"Please! My son, please at least spare my son. I don't care what happens

to me! I beg you!"

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to kill you. Lord Ainz is not

partial to senseless killing. I won't kill anyone who hasn't committed a crime.

Relax and wait for that ground beef in your hands to be ready… My personal

favorite is deep-fried meat patties."

No one knew how she would kill the boy in his mother's arms. But

although everyone knew the boy's short life would end in a few seconds, no

one rushed out to try to save him.

The onlookers wanted to avoid seeing the coming bloodshed, but they

couldn't tear their eyes away.

Both mother and child seemed bound by the beautiful woman's ghastly

energy—they didn't move a muscle.

"Regret your ill-mannered actions toward the loftiest one of this world

and die."

The moment she was about to swing her huge weapon, the ground jolted.

The source was a giant sword that stuck into the earth between the pitiable

pair and the woman.

There was no one in this city who didn't know that sword—or its owner.

The living legend.

The undefeated warrior.

The great, kind hero.

Upon the arrival of the one person who could save the poor mother and

child, everyone shouted the name of the sword's owner in their minds.

It was the Dark Warrior, Momon.

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The man clad in raven-black armor leisurely appeared on the road and

pulled the sword out of the earth. He waved it in a huge arc to shake the dirt

off. He already had a sword in his other hand, falling into a combat stance as

he faced the beautiful woman.

"You're being awfully rough on a kid who threw a stone. No one's going

to want to marry you."

"How rude, but when it's you saying it, I feel fi— Ahem. If someone has

been disrespectful to Lord Ainz, it doesn't matter whether they're an adult or

a child. They must all die."

"And what if I said I wouldn't allow that?"

"I would consider it a revolt against the king of this land and crush you."

"I see. Well, that's not bad. But don't think you can take my life so easily.

Know this is the place you'll die; then come at me!"

Momon dexterously brandished his two swords and prepared for battle.

His bold—and not only that but commanding—attitude was appropriately

heroic.

"You guys, protect Lord Ainz," the beautiful woman ordered the warriors

who had backed up with the palanquin. Then she held up her bardiche.

The spectators' feeling that Momon could win for sure was negated by the

equally intense opposing forces. They knew instinctively that this woman

was as powerful a warrior as Momon.

The fighters closed the distance between them slowly, by fractions of a

stride. The one who defused the volatile atmosphere was Ainz Ooal Gown

himself. Perhaps by magic? He silently flew out of the palanquin and alighted

on the ground, then grabbed the beautiful woman's shoulder from behind.

"Lord Ainz!"

Then he brought his face close to the woman's ear and whispered

something. Her face melted into a gentle, lovey smile.

"Understood, Lord Ainz. I'll do as you say."

After bowing to Ainz, she pointed the bardiche at Momon again, but there

was none of the bloodthirstiness of before.

"…I didn't ask your name. Tell me it now."

"I'm Momon."

"I see. Momon. I ask you: Do you think you can beat us?"

"…No, it'd be impossible. If I went in meaning to die, I could probably

only kill one of you."

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Hearing that, the people of the city were assailed by despair. Such a great

hero could kill only one of the monsters…

"And if I fought at full strength, lots of people would die in the resulting

battle. I can't do that."

"What a fool you are. You have such outstanding power, and yet for these

weaklings, you would— Oh, I seem to have spoken in vain. Apparently, Lord

Ainz has a proposition for you. You should be grateful. Say you surrender to

the army of Nazarick."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"How rude. Lord Ainz has no intention of ruling this city through

slaughter and despair. It's not as if he gains anything by killing humans, you

know. But even if he said that, the people here won't believe him, so you

must work at his side."

"…What do you mean?"

"Going forward, there may be others like that imbecile who threw the

rock at Lord Ainz. If that happens, take off that person's head. That way,

Lord Ainz won't have to make the innocent people of the city suffer. All you

need to do is stand watch."

"…I see. So I would serve close to him as an observer?"

"Not quite. As I said, you will kill rebels with your own hands. He's

telling you to be a representative of the city, as well as the law enforcer."

"I have no interest in following your evil laws."

"We're not planning on enacting any that are so evil. So what will you

do? If you won't devote your sword to Lord Ainz, you're a dangerous

individual, meaning I'll have to kill you now—no matter how many

bystanders become involved."

Momon looked around.

"I was traveling on my way somewhere else. I didn't plan on becoming

anyone's underling."

"If that's your answer, that's fine. Then shall we begin our death match

and wrap up all these humans in the ensuing battle?"

"Wait! Don't jump to conclusions. I haven't said what I'm going to do

yet. Also, I have a partner. What will happen to her?"

"She can serve with you. What other answer could there be?"

"The old me would have prioritized reaching the destination of my

journey, but…I seem to have gotten unexpectedly attached to this city. Will it

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work for you even if I don't surrender?"

Ainz approached the woman again and whispered in her ear.

"He says he'll allow it. Momon, work hard for Lord Ainz."

"…Got it. Just remember that if you ever make the people of this city

suffer for no reason, this sword will take your—both your heads off."

"…Then if anyone from this city ever tries to revolt against Lord Ainz,

take their head off. Even if they're a child. I'm looking forward to it—to

seeing these people rebelling, that is. I can't wait to see you writhe in agony

as you kill them. Well, we'll be off now. Come along later."

Ainz Ooal Gown's party leisurely moved on. Once the unusually long

procession had passed and the group wasn't visible anymore, people poured

out of their houses. Had there really been so many to begin with? There was

such a surprisingly large crowd, it was enough to make anyone watching

wonder.

Many were praising Momon.

Momon was awkwardly gesturing with both hands to calm them down

when he heard a dry smack. He turned to look and saw the mother had

slapped her son.

"Why would you do that?"

She slapped him again.

Both mother and child were crying.

But she kept slapping him.

Momon grabbed her hand.

"Maybe we could call that enough? I'd like to ask him something."

"Sir Momon, I'm so sorry my son made trouble for you!"

"Don't worry about it. More importantly, excuse me. All right, you, don't

cry. I want to talk to you."

Momon soothed the boy as best he could and asked him why he did what

he did.

Everyone must have thought all the boys wanted to avenge their fathers,

but this one said a strange man egged him on, so he thought throwing the

stone was the right thing to do.

"I see. Ma'am, you shouldn't scold him anymore. He was probably under

the influence of a spell. I'm guessing it's a Theocracy plot to drive Ainz Ooal

Gown and me to go against each other."

"…But…why would the Theocracy do that? Don't you think it must be

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Ainz Ooal Gown's plot? To force you to become his henchman?"

It was the owner of a shop that opened a few years back who spoke, and

Momon nodded sincerely.

"I suppose that's another possibility. But that works in our favor if it's

true. I'll be standing by near him, watching how he operates. If he seems like

he's going to do anything that will harm all of you, I'll slice his head off right

away. But in return, please don't rebel against him."

"Why not? With you on our side—"

"Please don't finish that sentence. They're already waiting for it. If you

start a rebellion, they'll order me to kill you all—for their own amusement."

Momon spread his arms, facing the people in the street, and stated with

confidence, "I can't break that promise I made just now. That's why, as long

as they aren't being unreasonable, I want you to accept what they say. If you

think anything they ask is unreasonable, please tell me."

Realizing that to Momon, they were all hostages, the people's expressions

turned sorrowful.

But Momon gave them a gentle laugh. "Please don't worry too much.

Besides, maybe he'll actually be a decent ruler. Let's see how things go. And

if the Theocracy has been active, there might be someone trying to incite you

to rebel. Please be wary."

There was no way that sat well with any of them.

But no one offered any opposing opinions.

Ainz Ooal Gown was an undead. None of them could trust a dangerous

being who hated life. But there wasn't a single person who didn't believe in

Momon. And Momon had just given up on his own objective for their sake. It

was only natural that they would want to repay his kindness.

The people all agreed with what Momon said, promising they would tell

the other people they knew before scattering into the city.

As a result, the rule of E-Rantel changed over more bloodlessly, more

peacefully, than the neighboring countries could ever have imagined.