Chapter 4 A Handful of Hope Part 1

This is what a dam bursting is like. The flood of attacks was enough to make

Hekkeran think that.

Yes, the opponents were low-tier undead. They weren't so terrible to the

members of Foresight. But there were no breaks between the wavelike

attacks.

After finally defeating two ghasts in the tenth battle since the series had

started, he wiped the sweat off his face.

His body wanted a rest, but there was no time for that. He took a sip of

water from the leather pouch at his hip and worked to catch his breath as he

gave instructions to retreat. As he might have guessed, however, the enemy

wasn't about to allow that.

A combined party of three skeleton warriors with round shields and two

robed skeleton mages with staves made its entrance. They leaped out into the

party's way.

"Save your magic!"

"I know!"

"Yeah, I got it!"

Since they had no idea what was coming up ahead, they couldn't use

magic willy-nilly—its outstanding effectiveness had to be saved as a last

resort. That's why they'd been conserving as much as possible so far.

Still, they'd ended up relying on an ability with a limited number of uses

per day and almost used it up. That was just how many various traps and

diverse types of undead had gotten in their way.

Skeleton archers had been shooting at them from behind a barred door

where their swords wouldn't reach. The monsters were tough because with

their resistance to stabbing damage, Foresight's arrows couldn't do lethal

damage, but Roberdyck exorcised them.

Roberdyck also destroyed the undead throwing bottles of poison with

exorcism.

Then there was the joint attack by the floor imitator, which mimicked the

floor and used a sticky liquid to trap anyone who stepped on it, and flying

undead—also thwarted with Roberdyck's exorcism.

Roberdyck also exterminated a mob of mixed undead that inflicted all

manner of negative statuses—Sickness, Poison, Curse—with exorcism.

Now he only had a couple of uses left, but they had managed to conserve

their other spells and abilities. The only tough fight they'd had was when

flesh golems—which looked just like zombies—were mixed in with a group

of zombies.

"Careful! Multiple sets of footsteps from the rear!"

"Undead detected! Six of them!"

Imina's voice, and then Roberdyck's a moment later, caused everyone to

tense up. The reason the five skeletons in front of them hadn't begun fighting

was probably to wait and annihilate them in one fell swoop with a pincer

attack.

Hekkeran considered what their next move should be.

A list of several tactics sprang immediately to mind. Make a preemptive

strike on the enemies in front, wiping them out all at once. Ignore the enemies

dawdling up ahead and turn to bash the ones to the rear. Stop for a moment

and determine which group is stronger, then crush the weaker ones first. Use

magic to detain one side and use that time to beat up the other.

They were all effective, but they all lacked a decisive something. But at

that moment, the oracle of intuition descended to him.

"Hekkeran! What should we do?"

"Go back! I think there was a side path! Go down that!"

The second he told her, Imina, bringing up the rear, raced away. Arché

and Roberdyck followed. A moment later, Hekkeran did, too.

Imina must have followed the order and run because the distance was

feasible. Hekkeran desperately sprinted in order to keep up with the others,

who were moving as fast as they could. Naturally, their opponents weren't

about to let them get away, and he could hear the undead footsteps coming

after them.

"Eat this!"

Hekkeran took out a sticky alchemical solution and tossed it behind him.

The solution spread slickly across the floor.

Its effects were immediate, and the sound of footsteps vanished.

Intelligent undead might have thought to go around, but there was no way

low-tier undead had those kinds of smarts. And he figured that once monsters

like skeletons, with no muscular strength, were stuck, it would be difficult for

them to rip themselves free.

"Undead detected! Four coming from the right!"

"That's a wall!"

"No, it's an illusion!"

Four ghouls descended on them through the wall. The bony, thin undead,

lunging with their long, yellow, clawlike fingernails, were terrifying. That

said, no one on this team was such a baby as to shake in their boots at this

level of horror.

"Don't underestimate us!"

Though taken by surprise, Imina drew her dagger immediately and stuck

it into a ghoul's neck. A foul liquid that must have been blood glugged out,

and one ghoul crumpled to the floor. Roberdyck, next to Imina, had bashed in

the head of another with a mighty swing of his mace.

Hekkeran concluded he could leave that up to those two and turned to see

what was happening behind them. The undead were definitely giving chase.

So maybe it's safest to spread around some more alchemical solution?

Just as he was about to throw it, he spotted a horrifying monster.

"Elder lich!"

At the same time, he noticed the thunderbolt at the elite caster's fingertips.

Even Hekkeran knew what spell that was.

Lightning. Its effect was a bolt of electricity that pierced in a straight line.

There was only one way to evade it.

"Shove the ghouls back!"

Imina and Roberdyck probably had no idea why Hekkeran was ordering

them to do that. But they both obeyed without hesitation.

The white lightning flashed past in the hallway behind them just as they

piled in past the illusion wall, ghouls and all.

As the air popped and quivered with electricity, a magic circle appeared

beneath Hekkeran and his team's feet. The next moment, they were

enveloped in an inescapable pale-blue light, and the scene before their eyes

abruptly changed.

"Everyone look sharp! On your guard! …Huh?"

Although the ghouls were gone and their surroundings had changed, their

nerves, tensed from repeated battles, hadn't relaxed. Still, under conditions so

strange, he couldn't be blamed for emitting a dazed murmur.

Hekkeran shook his head and regained focus. The first thing he needed to

do—although getting a handle on their situation was up there—was check the

status of his teammates.

Imina, Arché, Roberdyck.

The members of Foresight were all in the exact same battle formation as

when they'd entered the magic circle—no one was missing.

After confirming one another's safety, they remained vigilant and took in

their surroundings.

They were in a dimly lit corridor. It was wide and tall—big enough for a

giant to walk down. The torches mounted on the wall, with their flickering

flames, created shadows that moved as though they were dancing. At the end

of the hall was a huge barred gate. White magic light came through the gaps.

In the opposite direction, the corridor seemed to stretch on for quite a

distance, and they could see by the light of the torches that there were a

number of doors along the way.

Overall, it was quiet; the only sound was the crackling of the torches.

For the moment, there didn't seem to be any monsters threatening to

attack. Despite that conclusion, they couldn't relax.

"I don't know where we are, but the atmosphere is totally different from

what we've seen up until now."

Certainly the feel of this place was completely different from that of the

earlier tomb. It seemed more civilized somehow. As the Foresight crew

looked around, trying to figure out where they were, only Arché's behavior

differed.

"This is…"

Keenly picking up on the emotion in her words, Hekkeran asked, "Do you

know it? Or do you have an idea?"

"I know of a place that is similar: the empire's arena."

"Ah, now that you mention it, yes." Roberdyck voiced his agreement.

Hekkeran and Imina didn't say anything, but they also agreed. This

corridor definitely looked like the one they'd taken from the waiting room to

the arena when they'd fought there.

"So there must be an arena over there." Roberdyck pointed at the barred

gate.

"Probably. And since we got teleported here, it must mean…" Enter the

arena. Not that he had any idea what was waiting for them there.

"We're in danger. Long-distance teleportation is said to be tier-five magic.

A caster so powerful they can set a trap using magic at that level? I've only

heard of people like that in fairy tales. Someone with unbelievable magic

skills created these ruins. We shouldn't accept their invitation. I suggest we

go in the opposite direction."

"But if they're inviting us, couldn't we try talking to them? I mean, if we

disobey, won't they just get mad and think, Screw these guys?"

"Both ways are dangerous. What do you think, Roberdyck?"

"I agree with both of you, but I do wonder about something Arché said.

Did the one inhabiting this tomb really lay the trap? Perhaps he's simply

making good use of something a third party he never met created."

They all looked at one another and sighed. Standing here debating

wouldn't get them anywhere. They didn't have enough information, and they

weren't agreeing, but they had to come up with a conclusion.

"Rober is right. These ruins might be five hundred years old!"

"Yeah. Supposedly magic was more advanced back then."

"You mean the country that conquered the continent but fell almost

immediately and only its capital remains? That story?"

"The Eight Kings of Avarice… They're the ones said to have spread

magic throughout the world. If these ruins are from that era…"

"…I see. Then I vote we enter the arena. If he sent us here with a trap, he

probably wouldn't let us get away anyhow."

At these remarks from Roberdyck, the other three nodded, resolute, and

the party set off.

When they approached the barred gate, it lifted swiftly, as if it had been

waiting for them. When they passed through it, the scene greeting them was a

large open space surrounded by multiple levels of spectator seating.

This arena was no less impressive than the empire's. In fact, the

architecture might have been superior, and the whole area was illuminated

with white Continual Light. They could see everything as if it were midday.

Their surprise peaked when they saw the spectator seating.

Innumerable lumps of dirt—figures called golems—were sitting there.

Golems were inorganic life-forms created via magic who faithfully took

and carried out orders from their master. Since they didn't need food or sleep,

didn't get tired, and didn't age, they were extremely useful as gatekeepers,

guards, and laborers. Even weak ones fetched quite a price because of how

much time, effort, and money went into making them.

Hekkeran and his team charged quite a lot for their services, but even they

would have trouble affording one.

Golems were that expensive, and yet this arena was practically

overflowing with them.

Hekkeran took it as a sign of how wealthy the owner of the place was, as

well as how lonely.

The group exchanged glances, as they had a number of times since being

transported to this place, and advanced into the center of the silent arena.

"We're outside?"

In response to Imina's voice, the others looked up. What they saw was the

night sky. The lights in the area were so bright they couldn't make out the

stars, but it was still undoubtedly the sky.

"So we got teleported outside?"

"Then if we use Fly we can es—!"

"Yaaa!"

With a shout that interrupted Arché, a figure jumped from a terrace that

must have been VIP seating.

That was the equivalent of six stories up, but the figure flipped in midair

and made a featherlight landing. It wasn't due to magic but was simply great

physical technique. It was such a perfectly executed movement that even the

thief Imina gasped.

Having absorbed the full shock of the landing by just bending its legs, the

figure flashed a proud grin.

It was a dark elf boy who had jumped down. His long ears, poking out

from his silky golden hair, twitched, and a smile, radiant like the sun, spread

across his face.

He wore fitted, dark-red dragon scale light armor, top and bottom, over a

layer of basic leather protective gear. On top of that he sported a white vest

with golden threading, featuring some kind of crest on the chest.

Imina yelped when she saw that the color of his eyes didn't match. "Y—"

"And our challengers have enterrrrred!"

He spoke into some kind of rod he was holding, and his voice, which

hadn't changed yet, was amplified to multiple times its natural volume and

echoed.

A thunderous pounding noise shook the arena.

When the workers looked around, the golems, who hadn't budged until

now, were all stomping their feet.

"The challengers are four fearless fools who have invaded the Great Tomb

of Nazarick! Facing them is the ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the

most supreme of supremes, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown!"

The barred gate on the opposite side rose. The one who emerged from the

dimly lit corridor was, in a word, a skeleton.

The vacant eye sockets of his bleached white skull glowed with red

flames.

His clothing was gown-like with a cord around his waist; he was

unbelievably thin since his body had no flesh. The reason he wasn't carrying

any weapons must have been that he was a caster.

"What's this? His second is the captain of us guardians, Albedo!"

All the members of Foresight gasped when they saw the woman who

followed behind the skeleton.

Hers was a beauty which surpassed even Raven Black's Beautiful

Princess. If she seemed too gorgeous to be human, it was true—horns curled

forward from either side of her head and black wings sprouted from her hips.

They seemed too real to be fake.

With the pair's entrance, the arena-shaking foot stomping changed to

clapping. It was a display of joy appropriate for welcoming a king.

Bathed in the thunder of the golems' unending applause, the pair moved

step-by-step toward Foresight.

"I'm sorry," whispered Arché. "This is all my fault."

The battle that was about to begin would probably be the most intense the

team had ever faced—so intense someone could die. She must have been

convinced that she'd driven them into it, that if her situation wasn't what it

was, they might not have taken this job and come to this tomb so

underinformed.

But—

"No, no, what are you talking about, little lady?"

"Yeah. We all decided to take this job together. It's not your fault. Even if

we didn't know about your situation, we probably would have taken it, you

know."

"Yep. So don't worry about it."

Hekkeran and Roberdyck smiled at her, and then Imina ruffled her hair.

"Okay, I imagine it's impossible, but how about we try talking to them

first? Arché, do you know what kind of undead that is?"

"I sense it's intelligent, so probably some kind of elite skeleton?"

The bony figure in the lead waved his hand as if he were shooing

something away.

Sound vanished. The golems stopped moving at once, and a silence so

deep it hurt their ears descended on the arena.

Hekkeran turned to Ainz, who was steadily approaching them, and bowed

with sincere politeness. "First, allow us to apologize, Sir Ainz Ooal…"

"…Ainz Ooal Gown."

"Excuse me—Sir Ainz Ooal Gown."

Ainz halted and gestured with his chin as if he was waiting for him to

continue.

"We're sorry for entering your tomb without permission. If you'll forgive

us, we'd like to pay whatever sum is appropriate as reparations."

It was silent for a time. Then Ainz emitted a sigh. Of course, as an

undead, he didn't need to breathe. Surely, he'd done it to convey his attitude.

"If you find maggots in some food you had sitting in your house, are you

guys the type to take them outside and release them instead of killing them?"

"Humans are different from maggots!"

"No, they're not. Not to me. Actually, humans might be worse. I don't

think the flies that spawned the maggots are so bad, but you're different. You

were brought here by force, with no urgent reason, only to appease your

stupid desire for money, and raided this tomb—even though there might have

been someone in it—to steal its treasures." He laughed. "But you don't have

to worry. I'm not blaming you. That the strong should take from the weak is

only natural. I do it, too, so I don't count myself as an exception. It's

precisely because I'd be robbed if someone stronger came along that I'm on

my guard… Anyhow, I'm chatting too much. According to the simple law

that the weak are meat the strong shall eat, I'm going to take something from

you."

"But we actually do have an urgent—"

"No!" He interrupted Hekkeran in a forceful tone. "Do not offend me with

your fabrications. Now, compensate for your foolishness with your lives."

"What if we had permission?"

Ainz froze. Without a doubt, he was severely shaken. Inwardly, Hekkeran

was surprised that his casual remark had such an effect on him, but he didn't

show it on his face. Just when he'd thought it was all over, a ray of hope had

appeared. He had to capitalize on it.

"…Nonsense," Ainz said in a tiny voice. "That's the most absurd thing

I've ever heard. A total bluff. I think you've caused me enough displeasure!"

His disturbance spread through the room, and the dark elf boy began to

look puzzled. When Hekkeran eyed the last of their opponents, goose bumps

rose over his entire body.

The beautiful woman behind Ainz still wore her kind smile, but she was

emitting enough killing intent to draw a slick of sweat out of his forehead.

"And if it were true…?"

"…No…no…it's a bluff. Most definitely not true. You're just sacrifices

wriggling in the palm of my hand." Ainz shook his head and pierced

Hekkeran with his gaze. "But I…just in case, I'll ask: Who gave you

permission?"

"You mean you don't know him?"

"Him…?"

"He didn't tell me his name, but he was quite a sizable monster."

"Sizable? That's…"

Hekkeran desperately tried to think what the goal of this tightrope walking

should be. Ainz was obviously trapped. That's why he wasn't asking

questions. If he asked, the truth or falsehood of the claim would be revealed.

He's acting just like a human, thought Hekkeran. It didn't seem like the

type of reaction a monster would have—it was cowardly. But this worked in

his favor.

"Tell me, what did he look like, then?"

"…He was shiny."

"Shiny…?"

Ainz seemed caught in another whirlpool of thought, and Hekkeran

breathed an internal sigh of relief that he'd escaped another dangerous

juncture. He made subtle movements with his fingers to tell his teammates to

look around—for an escape route. Their opponents probably wouldn't kill

them until they confirmed his claims as true or false. They'd have to come up

with something during that time.

"What did he say?"

We have to watch out for charm or mind control spells…

"Before I tell you, please guarantee our safety."

"What? If you really received permission from one of my friends, I

promise you'll be fine. You don't have to worry about that."

A new word—friends.

Hekkeran put the information he'd gathered together in his head. What

would be useful in negotiations and pulling information out of Ainz Ooal

Gown was that he had friends but didn't currently have a way to contact

them.

Figure out what information one's opponent is after and pretend to give it

to them. That is the way of the con artist.

"…What is it? Why aren't you saying anything? Tell me what the monster

you met said."

So far his tightrope walking had been a success. Then on to the next line.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

"He said, 'Say hi to Ainz in the Great Tomb of Nazarick for me.'"

"…'Ainz'?"

He froze. Did I do something wrong? Hekkeran's expression tensed up.

"He said to say hi to Ainz, did he?"

Hekkeran braced himself. He'd already taken his chances.

"Yes."

"Kwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Ainz cackled at Hekkeran's answer. It wasn't

a good-natured laugh but a throaty, fiery one.

"Haaa… Well, that makes sense. If I take a moment to think about it, your

story was all over the place." Ainz didn't make a move, just fixed his eyes on

Hekkeran and his team. The crimson flames in his orbits gradually changed

to a dark sparkle. It was a gaze accompanied by a physical pressure, and the

workers backed up a step.

The gaze contained fury.

"You, you gaaaarbage! You came in here! In the place that I! That I and

my friends built! With your dirty fucking feeeeet!" Unable to rein in his wild

anger, he was suddenly speechless. His shoulders heaved as if he were taking

deep breaths, and then he raged on. "And on top of that! You tried to use my

friends, my most precious friends! You little shiiiits! You think I can let that

stand?!" he shouted violently.

His anger seemed infinite. But all of a sudden, he calmed down.

The change happened so quickly it was as if something had snapped in

half. It was enough that Hekkeran and his teammates felt strange.

"—is the kind of stuff I say when I fly off the handle, but you didn't do

anything so bad. You were probably just desperate and told a lie to survive.

Honestly, the anger that is smoldering within me even now is just…selfcentered… Albedo, Aura, and any guardians who can hear my voice, plug

your ears."

The peerless beauty and the dark elf boy both plugged their ears. The boy

stuck his fingers in, and the lady cutely covered hers. They meant to show

him, We aren't listening to what you're about to say.

"I never liked this plan. I didn't want to invite dirty thieves to the Great

Tomb of Nazarick. Still, I understood that it was the best way, so I agreed to

it." Ainz shook his head in frustration. "Well, whatever. I'm done

complaining. I was going to show you some mercy and kill you as warriors,

but I changed my mind. I'll handle you like the dirty thieves you are." He

spoke as if he was talking about something unrelated to any of them and then

cast off his robe.

Beneath it, naturally, was a body consisting solely of bones. An ominous

dark-red jewel floated inside his ribs. Besides that, his pants, and his greaves,

he didn't have anything equipped. No, he also had a collar on. The chains,

not attached to anything, hung loosely.

"Whoo!" A strange shout went up overhead.

When they looked up, a girlish figure with silver hair was leaning out of

the VIP section. Hands in some kind of blue gauntlets immediately yanked

her back, though.

"…What is she doing?"

"I'll scold her later."

The annoyed voice brought their attention back to Ainz, who now had a

black blade in one hand and a black round shield in the other.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's get this started."

He had put a little more distance between his feet. Now he was in a battle

stance.

"Albedo, Aura, you can unplug your ears now."

The two whose names were called replied in unison and removed their

hands from their ears.

"I'm in a very bad mood. I didn't think they'd be like this. I'm going to

fight them right up to the moment before they die. The rest I'm leaving to

you. Okay, let's get started."

Ainz may have been equipped with a sword and shield, but the first thing

Hekkeran thought when he faced him was that he wasn't a warrior or

swordsman. In fact, he seemed most like a magical beast who would come at

them with superior physical ability.

It stemmed from his casual way of standing, his careless stance. Basically,

he seemed like an amateur. But he was an immense power, heavy, pressing in

on them. His human-size build seemed to swell and weigh down on them.

The most terrifying thing about having made an enemy like that was if

they attacked in a relentless chain.

"You're not coming at me? Then here I go."

Ainz charged at the same time he asked.

His speed was shocking, such that the distance between them became zero

in an instant.

Next, he brought his sword down from high overhead.

It was an attack that had destructive power but should have been full of

holes. When someone with physical ability on another level unleashed it,

however, it turned into a one-hit kill.

It's too dangerous to take this, Hekkeran concluded instantaneously,

sensing the sword's rapid approach.

If he blocked it, he'd have to face that destructive power head-on. And in

that case, the gap in their physical abilities would surely result in his being

cut.

Then he only had one choice—

With a nasty grinding noise, the sword Ainz had swung drove into the

ground.

—parry.

Normally a parry would throw one's opponent off-balance and create an

opportunity to counterattack, but Ainz wasn't fazed. He resumed his earlier

posture with footwork that seemed to indicate he'd known ahead of time

what would happen.

Hekkeran realized he'd been wrong about something.

These weren't the movements of someone who was relying on physical

ability alone but of someone who understood how warriors move.

Crap! I was underestimating him! But all I can do now is attack!

Twin swords flashed and angled toward Ainz's head. Really, when

fighting a skeleton like Ainz, crushing weapons would deal more damage and

give the advantage, but Hekkeran was better with cutting weapons and wasn't

terribly confident with crushing ones, actually.

What he needed to do in this battle was continue dealing damage, even a

little bit at a time, not use big moves hoping for lots of damage when he

wasn't sure if they would land or not.

His twin blades whipped at Ainz's head.

A normal enemy would get hit.

A first-rate enemy would get off with a scratch.

But what about a super-first-rate enemy?

"Hmph!" Ainz interrupted the swords' arcs with his shield. An ordinary

person wouldn't have made it in time, but superior physical ability made it

possible.

"Magic Arrow!"

"Lesser Agility!"

As the hard sounds of Hekkeran's two attacks being repelled by the shield

rang out, Arché's spell became an arrow and flew at Ainz. At the same time,

Roberdyck targeted Hekkeran and cast an agility-raising support spell.

"Child's play."

Ainz didn't even look at Arché. Just as her shot of light was about to hit

him, it disappeared. Arché gaped in shock.

"Magic Immunity?! What kind?!"

"Hmph!"

As if in reply, Ainz struck at Hekkeran's face with his shield.

A shield blow!

The name of the well-known fundamental move flashed through

Hekkeran's head. He saw it as an opportunity and readied an attack. He

would aim for Ainz's torso, which he figured would be a blind spot due to the

shield.

But Ainz easily deflected it with his black blade.

He read my move?!

He just barely evaded the black shield coming at him like a wall by

ducking—and a kick from a greave-clad foot was approaching.

A normal kick wasn't so scary, but it had become apparent through their

exchange that the attacks Ainz's muscular strength unleashed—despite the

fact that he was a skeleton with no muscles—were all deadly blows. If one

landed, he had to be prepared for a lethal wound.

Hekkeran hurried to roll out of the way. Without Roberdyck's magical

assistance, it probably wouldn't have been possible. The kick's wind pressure

ripped a few of his hairs out, sending chills up his spine.

"Over here!"

Imina shot two arrows at once. Since she had shouted, it wasn't a surprise

attack, and Ainz was able to deal with them calmly.

The arrows missed their mark and flew behind him.

In the first place, Ainz was a skeleton, so arrows wouldn't work on him,

so she'd been hoping he would just take them without even bothering to

evade, but it seemed like things wouldn't work out that conveniently.

The heads of the fallen projectiles were smashed; they were specially

made magic arrows that dealt crushing damage. Since skeletons were weak

against crushing damage, if he hadn't dodged, they would have been very

effective.

Still, there was nothing to be upset about. Hekkeran had been able to use

the opening to get back on his feet and take some distance. The whole reason

Imina had shouted was to create that opening.

Hekkeran charged to counter.

"Twin Swords Slash!"

"Hah!"

Ainz had no trouble blocking the dual slash attack with his single sword.

The impact made Hekkeran's hands go numb.

Man, this guy is tough. So this is what it's like when a monster with

physical ability far surpassing that of a human trains to be a warrior… I

guess the reigning champion would be strong!

Fighting in range of a sword that dealt one-hit death consumed an

extraordinary amount of mental energy. His brain was screaming its

exhaustion, and he attempted to retreat to a more comfortable distance.

But Ainz wasn't about to let him do that.

"You think you're getting away?!"

Ainz rushed him. Obviously the one moving forward was faster than the

one backpedaling.

Hekkeran was feeling cornered when he heard something whiz past the

side of his head from the rear.

It was a high-speed arrow, loosed from cover. For a normal person, it

would be impossible to dodge, but—perhaps they should have guessed—the

arrow never reached Ainz, with his superhuman reflexes.

"Flash!"

"Lesser Strength!"

A burst of light appeared before Ainz's eyes. Flash was a spell that

temporarily shrank the target's field of vision a little, regardless of resistance,

but it seemed to have been useless against Ainz. He merely exhibited his

annoyance.

"Don't get in my way!"

Ainz clicked his tongue as Hekkeran, with boosted agility and strength,

closed in.

"Reinforcing Armor!"

"Evil Protection!"

Arché and Roberdyck fortified Hekkeran with support magic.

Ainz was busy evading, blocking, and countering Hekkeran's attacks

when another arrow went flying for his face.

"…Hmph!" His posture as he moved his head slightly to dodge was

appropriate as master of the tomb and becoming of a monster warrior.

Hekkeran took advantage of the support to get some distance and wipe

away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow during this still short but

intense fight.

He'd known it already, but Ainz Ooal Gown was strong.

A human could never hope to achieve Ainz's physical ability. On top of

that, Ainz possessed the skills to take advantage of his body. He was

insightful enough to see through feints and perceptive enough to grasp the

movements of every Foresight member. He had magic resistance and a magic

sword and shield. He had everything a warrior could want.

There was a reason Hekkeran had been able to fight on an equal footing

with such a man.

Certainly he was just barely hanging on throughout every exchange. If he

tried to parry and mistook the angle of the sword, his weapon would break

and he would be critically injured. If he misjudged the range and speed of a

swing, even by a tiny bit, he'd be sliced in half. This luck was as if every coin

he tossed came up heads—but he was also being protected.

But there was an even bigger reason he was making it through this fight.

And that was teamwork—movement as one, that was only possible

between friends who had survived deadly battlefields together and could even

read one another's thoughts.

The compound Foresight versus the solo Ainz Ooal Gown were having a

close fight.

Hekkeran extinguished the smile that had begun to form in his cheeks.

Ainz was still unharmed. This wall was thick and high; still, it wasn't

absolute.

Believing that, he swung his twin swords.

The fastest attack Hekkeran could unleash with his magically

strengthened body was repelled ever so easily by the black round shield. The

flying arrows were slashed in half by the black sword. All the while Arché

and Roberdyck's magic continued to boost Hekkeran.

They heard Ainz click his tongue in displeasure, and the hostility they

sensed from him subsided dramatically.

Hekkeran had been thinking to do a follow-up attack but chose to catch

his breath instead and backed up. No matter how much Ainz fought, he was

undead, so he wouldn't get tired, but Hekkeran and his team were gradually

exhausting themselves. A lengthy battle of attrition would put them at a

disadvantage. It was right to rest when they could.

"Just as I thought… I seem to lack a finishing move. And I thought I

understood the strength of numbers, but now that I'm outnumbered, I just feel

so irritated… Why can't I take out even just one of these guys?"

When Ainz shrugged, it didn't bother Hekkeran. He knew he'd meant

what he said.

That was the real power of teamwork. Hekkeran smiled as if Ainz had

complimented them.

Then the peerless beauty, who had been watching in silence so far, opened

her mouth to speak. "Lord Ainz. Perhaps it's time to end this jest."

"What?"

"I beg your pardon, but I find it hard to allow these most insolent thieves

any more freedom. They attempted to cheat you using the Supreme Beings!

Don't you think the time for mercy is over?"

"Hey, Albedo, Lord Ainz is—"

"No, Aura. Albedo's right." Ainz shook his head. "Besides, I think this is

plenty. I feel like I gained a fair amount of experience in that fight."

"Indeed, you have fought admirably. Of course, I would expect nothing

less from our ruler."

"Heh-heh. Really? I'm glad. Coming from a far greater warrior like you,

praise kind of gives me butterflies, even when it's flattery."

"It is most certainly not flattery. I believe it with all my heart."

"I see. Then thank you. Now all I need is Cocytus's critique and opinion

on how I should train from here on out."

Nodding a few times in satisfaction, Ainz turned back to Foresight.

Hekkeran had a bad feeling about this shift in atmosphere.

The intuition he'd sharpened in many a life-and-death battle was

screaming, Danger!

"Okay, that's enough fooling around with swords. Time for a new game."

The sword and shield spilled out of Ainz's hands. The moment they hit

the ground, they disappeared.

"Huh?!"

Throwing away one's sword—that was the act of someone admitting their

defeat. But nothing in Ainz's attitude implied surrender, and it shouldn't have

been a situation where he would have to acknowledge his loss.

This confused Hekkeran; he had no idea what Ainz was thinking. "What

are you…?"

In response, Ainz smiled faintly. No, Hekkeran had the feeling he did.

The skeleton slowly spread his arms. It was a loving gesture, like the way

an angel would accept believers or a mother would embrace her child.

"You don't know? Then I'll put it into words for you." Ainz sneered. "I'll

play with you. Come at me, humans!"

The mood had changed.

Normally when someone abandoned their weapon, their equipment, they

would become weaker. But Hekkeran felt like Ainz had grown much more

powerful than before. He was assailed by an overwhelming sense of

authority, as if Ainz had gotten physically larger.

A being who grows more powerful by casting his sword away?

There were only two answers he could think of. One was that Ainz was a

monk and used his body as a weapon. But the way he fought before, the way

he dodged, didn't seem to indicate he was used to that style of combat.

So there was one other possibility—

"—A caster?!" Arché shouted, having reached the same conclusion as

Hekkeran.

Yes. Only now did they realize—that the being before them, Ainz Ooal

Gown, might just be a caster.

It was only natural that it didn't occur to them sooner. Who could imagine

a caster going head-to-head with Hekkeran, the strongest member of their

team and a seasoned fighter?

Casters, especially arcane casters, were more physically vulnerable than

warriors. If they had time to train their bodies, it was better spent honing their

magic. That was why there were no casters who could brawl on equal terms

with a warrior.

That was common sense.

The one before them was a being who turned common sense on its head,

but who could have known that?

Hence the pleading tone in Arché's shout: "Please deny it! Tell me it's not

true!" If he confirmed that he was, it meant that he had more confidence in

himself as a caster than as a warrior. What that meant goes without saying.

Using just a little magic could massively improve one's combat ability. A

few fortification spells could make one dramatically stronger, like Hekkeran

was right then. In that case—

"You finally figured it out? What a bunch of fools you are. But you're the

mice who tramped into my—no, my friends' tomb, Nazarick, with your dirty

feet! Makes sense that you wouldn't be terribly bright."

But as long as Arché was with him, Hekkeran had reason enough to deny

that claim. "Arché! Is this guy a caster?"

"No! Definitely not! At least not an arcane caster!"

"Hmm? What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't sense any magical energy coming from you!"

"Oh, you're using detection magic? Do excuse me."

Ainz spread his fingers so that Hekkeran and the others could see them.

They were only bones, fitting for an undead. Each one had a ring.

"If I take this ring off, you'll understand. I lent one to one of my

subordinates for a while…" As he spoke, he slipped a ring off his right hand.

And then—

"Uwagh!" The sound of someone throwing up. The mostly liquid vomit

splattered the floor of the arena and a sour smell wafted through the area.

"What did you do?!" Imina glared at Ainz as she ran over to Arché.

Ainz responded as though he was confused but still definitely displeased.

"What's this lady doing?! Looking someone in the face and throwing up?

How rude can you be?!"

"Everybody run!" Arché screamed with tears in the corners of her eyes.

"He's a monst— Euwaagh!"

As Arché threw up again, unable to hold herself together, the rest of the

team realized why she was vomiting.

It wasn't as if Ainz had done something. Arché was just so scared and

tense—she couldn't withstand his vast magical power.

In other words—

"We can't win! His power is on another level! The word monster doesn't

even begin to describe him!" Arché sobbed. "No way, no way, no way!"

Arché shook her head back and forth like a crazy person, and Imina

hugged her tightly. "Calm down! Roberdyck!"

"I'm on it! Lion's Heart!"

Arché, recovered from her fear thanks to Roberdyck's spell, stood with

legs as unsteady as a newborn fawn's and held up her staff.

"You should all run for it! Humans can't win against that thing! He's an

unbeatable monster!"

"…We got it, Arché."

"We understand that very well, Arché. The moment he took off the ring,

there was a flood of this intense feeling, like the world was enveloped in it. I

have goose bumps."

"Yeah, saying he's quite the monster doesn't even begin to cover it."

All three of them had surpassed the limits of their caution levels. With

nerves even more on edge, they fixed their eyes on Ainz. Their expression

said they understood that shifting their gaze for even a moment could result

in death.

"We definitely can't escape."

"The second we turn our backs to him, we die. Even looking away feels

too risky."

"We need to find a way to buy time."

"…You're not charging?" Ainz languidly scratched his skull with a bony

finger.

Hekkeran didn't respond to the provocation. This enemy had combat

ability that far surpassed anything he'd ever encountered. There was only one

thing to aim for—the moment he started casting, that is, the time a caster was

most vulnerable. On the off chance he casts silent magic, it's all over…

Hekkeran began to muster his body's strength, as if he were a spring or a

bow being drawn.

"Then I'll start. Touch of Undeath."

"What kind of spell is that? Arché!"

"I don't know! I've never heard of it!"

With a watchful eye on the black haze enveloping Ainz's right hand, the

unknown magic, Hekkeran tensed his feet so he could dodge at a moment's

notice. His teammates behind him seemed to be spreading out, wary of an

area-of-effect attack.

Suddenly Ainz began walking toward him.

Hekkeran blinked in surprise.

His bearing was too nonchalant—full of holes. It wasn't the way a man

who had just displayed the skills of a warrior should walk. Hekkeran knew it

was a trap for sure, but he couldn't fathom its purpose.

Is he planning to do something with his magic? Does that spell only have

an effect up close? Or is it defense?

He'd studied the most famous spells, so he was familiar with those, but

since he wasn't a caster, Hekkeran couldn't figure out what Ainz was up to.

"Stay away from him!" Imina's shout reverberated, and a series of arrows

went flying at Ainz.

She'd shot the three arrows using a skill, but Ainz dexterously batted them

away with a bony hand.

"You're in my way." His voice was quiet and cold.

The red flames in Ainz's vacant orbits wavered, and watching his every

move, Hekkeran was the only one who understood.

Just as a chill went up his spine, Ainz vanished.

Hekkeran obeyed his instinct to turn on his heel and run. He could see the

surprised faces of his teammates, but he had neither the time nor the energy

to explain—not when Ainz was standing behind Imina, slowly reaching out

with his right hand.

Imina! She hasn't noticed! I should scream—no! The fact that he's not in

a hurry might save us!

Hekkeran ran, using a martial art to boost his speed, but suddenly

hesitated.

Is protecting Imina the smartest thing to do?

Compared to Arché and Roberdyck, who could use support magic, Imina

wasn't all that critical in this battle.

He had no doubt it was better to drop someone who was a burden in order

to ensure survival for the majority, but even so—

Shit!

He was making the wrong move as team leader. Though he understood he

was essentially betraying his teammates, he didn't slow down. He was

spurred on by not logic but emotion—emotion that told him, Save Imina!

Suddenly, an image of her in bed flitted across his mind. He smiled

bitterly at himself for thinking of her smooth body in a life-and-death

situation like this.

Still, the energy pumping in his legs increased.

It was the power of a man protecting his woman.

"Move!"

If Ainz hadn't hesitated upon seeing him charging over, he might not have

made it in time, but before Ainz could touch Imina, he bowled her over.

A small yelp sounded as she bit back the pain, and it was obvious Ainz

was trying to decide whether to prioritize the man who had appeared in front

of him or the escaped woman.

"Over here, you idiot!" Hekkeran shouted and then focused on his martial

arts.

The first one he activated was Limit Break. He had to pay for it, but it

briefly increased the number of martial arts he could use at once. Next,

something inside him hurt like it was ripping, so he used Dull Pain. Then

Physical Boost and Sturdy Arm, Strong Blow followed by Twin Swords

Slash.

Thus, his most powerful attack was born.

The dual blades traced their arcs.

The more acclimated to the speed of Hekkeran's swings Ainz had become

during their earlier exchanges, the more his timing would be off now, and the

more difficult it would be for him to evade. Because Hekkeran had arranged

things ahead of time, because getting too comfortable meant the end, this

would be a lethal strike.

Ainz wouldn't be able to react.

He's mine!

The moment his swords should have been slicing into Ainz's unguarded

skull, the impact he felt was not that of blade against bone.

Perfect resistance to cutting damage?!

As a worker, he'd experienced this sensation on adventures before.

So he's completely resistant to stabbing and cutting?! Is it even possible

for a monster like that to exist?!

As Hekkeran rushed to withdraw, a cold sensation plastered over his

forehead. It was Ainz's hand. Its viselike grip wouldn't let Hekkeran escape.

"Hekkeran!"

"Imina! He's completely resistant to cutting damage!" He endured the

awful pain and relayed the information he'd gained to his teammate behind

him. That was when, still in Ainz's clutches, he felt himself get lifted off the

ground. He lashed out with the flat of his sword, but the undead's grip

showed no signs of loosening.

"No. Stabbing, cutting, or crushing—it doesn't matter. Attacks from

weaklings like you can't even scratch me."

"How does that work?! What a cheater! That's so low!"

"He's lying, Imina! If that were true, he wouldn't have to fight so hard.

He must have some weakness!"

"You can't fool us!"

"I'm sad that you don't believe me. I thought you understood well enough

from that conversation earlier, but our close-quarters battle up until now was

basically an experiment. You must have taken hope from the fact that you put

up an okay fight? I'll be merciful and hope that you're able to have nice

dreams even in the hell that awaits you!"

"You call that mercy? You shitty, lowlife bastard! Let Hekkeran go!"

Hekkeran heard arrows being fired in rapid succession, but Ainz seemed

unfazed and the pain in his forehead remained.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You might hit him."

The horrible pain in Hekkeran's head made him scared it might just crack

open. He struggled, but his opponent didn't budge. He kicked him with his

steel-toed boots, but only stubbed his toes.

"Does it hurt? Don't worry. I won't kill you now. This is the most pity I

can take on thieves—Paralysis."

His body froze. No, he wasn't frozen but paralyzed.

"Maybe Touch of Undeath was a waste if I was only going to paralyze

him?"

Hekkeran's ears picked up sounds in vain.

He heard a series of bow twangs.

The response was a ridiculing voice. "How many times do I have to tell

you…? No, it's fine, you can resist. You'll feel more helpless that way."

Run!

His mouth wouldn't move, but it trembled.

Even if they ran as fast as they could, this wasn't a run-of-the-mill enemy

they could escape. But fighting was even more foolish. Especially without

their warrior to keep the enemy's attacks at bay, their line would surely

crumble.

"So who's next? You could have all come at me at once, but I suppose

that's not much fun."

Imina gazed at Hekkeran, who was lying on the floor.

He wasn't dead, but he might as well have been. She couldn't think of a

way to save him from this incomprehensible monster, Ainz Ooal Gown. Still

—

"You stupid—! Common sense said to abandon me! You colossal idiot!"

Irritation welled up inside her.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! You big blockhead! Moron!"

"…Those aren't very nice things to say to the man who tried to protect

you."

His words showed he understood nothing about Imina's feelings. But how

could a monster understand human emotion?

"I know that! He's such a great leader that he's practically wasted on us!"

She took a breath. "But you're still stupid—to get carried away by your

feelings!"

"…What are you talking about?"

She ignored the questioning voice and thought. That was the deputy

leader's job now that their leader was down.

Throw away your hesitation, she told herself. She suppressed the feelings

of a woman who wanted to go save her man.

She had to abandon Hekkeran and take the information she'd gained back

to the others. She had to tell them what a horrifying monster they'd found in

the ruins and possibly put together a subjugation squad.

Evil spirits…

Is this what the king of the demons who ravaged the continent two

hundred years ago was like?

She suddenly felt like her world had turned into a myth or something.

That couldn't be true, but she did have a sense of dreamlike uncertainty.

Myths, huh? It's weird to say that. The ones who would fight this sort of

monster were heroes…

That was when it hit her.

Yes, the ones who fought the evil spirits were heroes—the Thirteen

Heroes. So the only one who would be able to fight Ainz was a hero.

"Give Hekkeran back! If we don't return in a certain amount of time, the

strongest person in the world is going to storm in here! If you send us safely

back to where we were before, we'll call him off."

"Another lie?" Ainz sighed.

Sweat appeared on Imina's forehead. This was true. "No, it's not a lie."

"Albedo. Is there any sign of someone strong up on the surface in this

area?"

"No, my lord. This must be a silly lie."

"It's not a lie!" A girl's voice sounded behind Imina. "An adamantite-rank

adventurer, Momon of Raven Black, is with us! He's the most powerful

warrior! He's stronger than you!"

Albedo looked shaken for the first time. Flustered, she bowed to Ainz. "I

—I beg your pardon, my lord. There was indeed an adventurer. P-please

forgive me."

"Mm… Ahh well, you don't need to worry about it, Albedo. Momon of

Raven Black, hmm? By the way, he… Eh, whatever. He can't win against

me."

The switch from the previously furious demon king into this somewhat

drained, shoulder-shrugging attitude made it seem like Ainz was hiding

something, but she didn't know what it could be.

"Momon is stronger than you!"

"No, you can't use him to negotiate. Give it up." Ainz waved her protests

away with an unmotivated air. "Okay, shall we get started?"

His vibe said the time for idle chatter was over.

"Arché! Run!" Roberdyck shouted, and Imina agreed. "Yeah! Hurry!"

"Look up! We must be outside. If you fly, you might be able to escape!

Even if you're the only one who makes it, please go! We'll save you a

minute…well, at least ten seconds!"

"That's quite an interesting proposal. Aura, go open the door. It might be

fun to play."

"Yes, my lord!"

Ainz indicated the door through which Roberdyck and the others had

come. Aura jumped, with a glimmer of her shoes, and disappeared.

"Okay, she's teleported and is probably opening the door now. If you'd

like to go, be my guest. Abandon your friends and leave. So who will run?"

Ainz gestured at the door once again. There was no expression on his

bony face, but they could understand clearly—the sinister grin, the smile in

anticipation of their friendship breaking.

It was true that unlike adventurers, many worker teams formed only out of

an interest in money, so there was a higher chance that someone would

declare every man for himself and run for it. But Foresight wasn't like that.

"Go, Arché!"

"Yeah, you should go." Imina smiled. "You have your little sisters, right?

So leave us here and go. That's what you need to do!"

"But this is all my fault!"

Noting that Ainz didn't seem interested in attacking immediately,

Roberdyck walked over to Arché. Then he took a small leather pouch out of

his breast pocket and pressed it into her hand. "It's okay. We'll defeat this

Ainz monster and come right after you."

"Yeah. And then you'll treat us to a drink." Imina also took out a small

leather pouch and gave it to Arché.

"…All right, please go. You can use the money I have stored at the inn,

too."

"And mine."

Of course, none of them believed that would come to pass.

They didn't have the slightest hope they would beat this unimaginable

being, Ainz.

Arché knew this was their final farewell, and her response was more sob

than words. "…Godt id. I'll leab firsd, then." She began to cast a spell.

"There are monsters in the air, so even if you try to fly away, you'll get

caught."

"Fly!" Ignoring Ainz's warning, she finished the spell. With one last

glance at her friends, she flew into the sky.

"Well, yeah. It's faster than walking, and you don't get so tired." He acted

as if those things had slipped his mind. "Anyhow, I'm impressed you guys

didn't have a falling-out. I thought for sure you would make more of a

scene."

"You wouldn't understand. We're friends."

"Yeah. It's not so bad to die as a shield protecting your fri—" Then

something dawned on her. "Weren't your friends like that?"

"Nrgh!"

"Your friends were probably wonderful, weren't they? We get along just

as well as you guys probably did."

"You're right," Ainz murmured quietly. The evil atmosphere of a moment

ago had vanished as if it were a lie. "'Greater love hath no man than this, that

a man lay down his life for his friends'—the Gospel of Mark, was it?"

"We're fine dying. But in light of the fact that we're taking the same

action as your wonderful friends, please spare her."

"Nrgh…" Ainz hesitated a couple of moments and then shook his head. "I

have no pity for you thieves. Suffer, suffer, suffer, and then die. But in light

of the fact that you were willing to give your lives to save your friend, I'll do

something else with her…"

He calmly turned his back to the two workers and called again to the VIP

box. "Shalltear." His attitude said there was no chance he would sustain

damage.

But that was true. No matter what kind of attack they used, it wouldn't

reach him. The leeway he showed was due to his understanding of that. The

two of them had no way to harm the monster known as Ainz. And so they

stayed composed and racked their brains. They at least needed to buy Arché

some time.

Even if it felt futile, they had to do it. Imina and Roberdyck exchanged

glances and nodded to each other.

Meanwhile, a girl floated down from the VIP box in response to Ainz's

call.

It was a human girl with beautiful, shimmering, silver hair.

She possessed such beauty that it captured the workers' attention despite

the rage driving them.

Suddenly, the gorgeous girl shifted her gaze to look directly at them.

Beautiful crimson eyes. Imina felt almost as if they were squeezing her heart.

Roberdyck also seemed to be assailed by so much pressure he could barely

breathe, much less move.

Even after she looked away, they couldn't move.

"Shalltear. Teach that girl the meaning of fear. Let her punishment for

invading the Great Tomb of Nazarick be the plunge from the naive hope of

potential escape into the despair that will occur the moment she faces the

truth. Then have mercy and give her a painless death."

"Understood, Lord Ainz."

The girl—Shalltear—smiled at him. But seeing the practically sparkling

smile gave Imina chills. She knew instinctively that the girl was just a

monster wearing pretty skin.

"Enjoy the hunt."

"Indeed, I shall." Shalltear bowed deeply and then set off walking at a

leisurely pace.

Another Imina was shouting in a corner of her mind that every step that

girl took was a step closer to Arché's death, but she and Roberdyck still

couldn't move.

Shalltear walked by without paying them a fraction of her attention,

without giving them so much as a glance. The distance was such that if they

ran they could have caught up in no time, but it felt so far.

"What's wrong? Still not going to move? You could have attacked while

we were talking… You guys have better manners than I would have

expected."

He wasn't making fun of them. He was serious. In a way, he seemed

disappointed in them, and that gave Imina a bit of her will to fight back.

"I want to ask something! What—what about that is merciful?"

"I'll tell you…priest. Here in Nazarick, death is merciful because it means

no more pain."

A silence descended. Mouths would no longer do the talking—only the

weapons held in their hands.

"Let's go, Rober!"

"Indeed! Rrrraaagh!"

With an uncharacteristic battle cry, Roberdyck smashed his mace into

Ainz's head. He'd struck without thinking, using all his strength. He figured

Ainz wouldn't dodge, so he'd put every ounce of energy in his body into it.

The mighty blow connected with Ainz's face, but as expected, he didn't

seem to feel any pain. Roberdyck unleashed a follow-up attack, thrusting out

an empty hand.

"Middle Cure Wounds!"

The target of the healing spell was Ainz—because healing magic naturally

hurt undead. But before it could do anything, something like an invisible wall

stopped it from taking effect, just as with Arché's attack spell.

"Ahhhhh!"

With a scream that said she'd pulled out all the stops, Imina drew her

bowstring—and let go. Roberdyck may have been right next to Ainz, but she

wasn't so clumsy that she would accidentally hit him. At this range, she was

a hundred for a hundred.

But her arrow struck Ainz and fell to the floor without wounding him at

all.

He suddenly vanished.

It's the same tactic as before!

"Teleportation magic!"

"Wrong."

The voice came from behind her.

"Imi—!"

Faster than Roberdyck could scream, Ainz gently set his hand on Imina's

shoulder. She sensed no hostility whatsoever.

But the effect was absolute. All the strength drained out of her body, and

she crumpled. She'd managed to retain a firm grip on her consciousness, but

it felt as if her muscles had turned to muck.

"What in the world did you do to her?" Roberdyck asked in a quaking

voice. He didn't take his eyes off Imina on the floor or Ainz standing next to

her.

"You find it strange? It's nothing really, though." Ainz gave away his

trick—with a heartbreaking answer. "It was pretty much the same as what I

did before. After silently casting Stop Time, I used Touch of Undeath on my

way over—the same spell I used on that man on the floor over there—and

then I simply touched her from behind."

A silence as if space had frozen. Roberdyck found the sound of himself

swallowing strangely loud.

"…You stopped time…?"

"Yes. Gotta have a way to deal with time! You guys will have to make

sure you get one once you get to level seventy. Ahh, but your lives are going

to end here, so maybe not."

Roberdyck's teeth were chattering audibly.

That's a lie. If he could have screamed that, how happy he would have

been. How much easier would it have been to deny everything this monster—

no, he was more like a god—said, plug up his ears, and curl into a ball?

He'd understood that this opponent was fairly strong.

But stopping time wasn't something a creature of this world should be

able to do.

People weren't supposed to be able to govern or control the flow of time.

So what could he hope to do against an opponent who could manipulate that?

It seemed more likely that he would be able to cut down every tree in the

great woodlands with a sword.

Ainz Ooal Gown… He was the type of being against which humans could

never claim victory, a being in the divine realm.

Roberdyck clutched his mace in both hands—

—and felt something pat his shoulder.

"Ngha…"

His body froze. He knew who had tapped his shoulder without needing to

look. Ainz, the godlike being who could manipulate time, should have been

in front of him, but at some point he'd disappeared.

A chill poured in from the hand on his shoulder, and he turned into an ice

sculpture. He was so immobilized that's what it felt like.

"No, you can't."

How gentle—a voice without a shred of hostility spoke to him. The mace

dropped out of Roberdyck's limp hands and fell to the ground.

"Now, then," murmured Ainz, gazing at Roberdyck, who had lost all will

to fight. "That was futile, wasn't it? Nice try."

None of their attacks had any effect. They had no way to deal damage to

Ainz. Thoroughly beaten, Roberdyck quietly looked up at him and asked with

a calm heart, "I'd like to ask you something. What fate awaits me?"

"Hmm? You're a faith caster, so yours will be different from theirs." With

those opening remarks, Ainz expounded on his plans. "First, those two. Aura,

take them to the big pit. Apparently, the King of Hungry Prolyferum is

running out of nests."

The dark elf's ears stiffened, and her eyes widened.

"L-Lord Ainz, what about Mare? Could I order Mare to take them there?"

"Er, sure. That's fine."

"Got it! I'll make Mare do it!"

"Oh—sorry. Anyhow, so their fate's not going to be terribly carefree.

Now, about you—ah, but before that… My subordinate who just went

chasing after your friend is a faith caster, but the god she believes in is

completely different from yours. Or rather, I've never heard of your Four

Gods. So tell me something: The subordinate deities all have names, but the

Four or the Six just go by their type—god of fire, god of earth, and so on.

Why is that?"

"Hmm, I don't know."

"I see… So they aren't transcendental beings possessing mystical powers

but just deifications of great people from the past…"

"Nonsense!"

"Well, hear me out. That's just what I think. But you guys say you borrow

the power of the gods to cast your spells. Can a dead human help you out like

that? I mean, what is a god when you get down to it anyway? Do they really

exist? Do you really get your power from gods?"

"…What are you trying to say?"

"…Have you ever seen a god?"

"The gods are always with us!"

"From that response, I gather that you've never actually seen one."

"No! When I use magic, I feel a great presence! That is the gods."

"…Who decided that? The gods? Or the ones who used the power?"

Roberdyck recalled various theological arguments, but he couldn't find a

clear answer to Ainz's question. It was actually still a point of debate among

various priests, but they had concluded that it had to be at least part of what a

god was.

Roberdyck opened his mouth to speak, but Ainz bulldozed over him.

"Well, supposing that 'presence' is beings from a higher dimension—gods—

perhaps they're featureless. At least that's how I imagine them—basically

clusters of power. The difference is what color of paint is drizzled over

them… But, well, this is a world with laws of magic, so I'd like to take a jab

at myself and ask what I'm even thinking. It wouldn't be strange if there were

gods here."

"…"

"Sorry. That's not what I wanted to say. I wonder if it wouldn't be

possible to acquire the power of your gods… To be frank, I want to perform

experiments on humans."

He voiced the exceedingly dangerous idea so simply.

"Experiments on humans?"

"Yeah. For example, what would happen if I changed your memory to

make you believe in different gods?"

He's insane. That was Roberdyck's instinctual impression.

No, he was talking to an undead. Nothing Ainz could do would be

surprising.

Roberdyck had backed up a step, and Ainz watched him with interest. The

gaze was like the one a scholar would use to observe a test animal, and it

made Roberdyck feel sick.

"Why would you do that?"

"To prove the existence of the gods… Okay, but seriously, my real aim is

to see if I can get stronger by understanding that power. And if gods really do

exist, I need to determine if they have the emotional and intellectual capacity

to become hostile. I don't believe that I'm some chosen one. I can sense more

than one shadowy figure…"

I have no idea what he's talking about.

"That's why I need to expand my military. Sure, there might not be any

enemies; there might not be anyone stronger than us. But don't you think it'd

be irresponsible to neglect those possibilities as the leader of an organization?

If you don't aim higher and simply rest on your laurels feeling strong, sooner

or later someone will pull them out from under you." Ainz shrugged his

shoulders and finished by saying that testing if the gods existed or not was a

part of that whole plan.

2

Arché breathed roughly in and out, in and out.

She shuddered every time the wind rustled the grass and trees. She

scanned the area like a helpless little animal.

She was in a forest, and there were many places the light did not reach. It

was blocked by the branches of the densely growing trees, so almost none of

it made it to the ground.

The reason Arché could move through this place humans would normally

have a hard time traversing, even though she had no light, was that she was

seeing things as if it were midday thanks to Night Vision.

But even though she could see clearly, there was no end to things she had

to pay attention to: underbrush that could easily hide a person, huge trees

someone could definitely lurk behind, swaying branches…

Arché, a caster, wouldn't be able to muscle a monster off her if one

pounced and knocked her down. Normally, her friends would jump in to save

her, but now she had no one to rescue her, no one to take the brunt of a

monster's attacks, and no one to heal her.

In other words, she had to detect enemies before they challenged her at

close quarters; she had to keep her distance or run away. Knowing that was

precisely why she was straining her attention to keep an eye on her

surroundings, exhausting her mental faculties faster than usual.

Under the assumption they were outside, her original plan had been to

escape all at once using Fly. But she abandoned that idea when she ascended

to the treetops and caught sight of huge, dark silhouettes like paper cutouts

circling the night sky as if searching for something.

Having seen those huge bat-like things, she didn't feel like trying to outfly

them. Even if she used Invisibility, she couldn't fool a bat's special sensory

organs.

Having confirmed the area was clear, she floated up again and proceeded

at a sluggish pace.

She was moving far slower than Fly's top speed in order to take in her

surroundings. If she went too fast, even if she was being cautious, she would

notice any danger only once it was too late. She could even end up flying

straight into a group of monsters. The only way to avoid a scenario like that

was to reduce her speed.

Soon, she felt the film of magic surrounding her grow weaker. Fly's time

limit was nearly up.

She landed slowly on the ground.

The problem was what to do next. It wouldn't be an issue to use Fly again.

She could sense that she had enough magical energy for that. But Night

Vision was critical, and there was also the cost of maintaining the defensive

spell she had cast just to be safe; she also needed to save some energy in case

combat became unavoidable.

Of all the spells Arché could use, the tier-three spell Fly was the most

advanced. In other words, it made the biggest dent in her energy. As long as

that was the case, she wanted to avoid using it, if possible.

But she couldn't even guess how long it would take her to escape the

forest if she couldn't use the spell that would allow her to ignore the rough

terrain and save her the physical exertion of traversing it. And if she couldn't

fly, she wouldn't be able to confirm her position.

Up until now, Arché had been periodically ascending to the treetops and

orienting herself relative to the large tree adjacent to the arena. If she moved

without using Fly, it would be easy to lose her sense of direction. She

couldn't see any large trees that could be used as signposts from within the

dense forest, and the situation wasn't such that she could climb the nearest

one every time she wanted to check her position.

"I should take a break somewhere," she said to herself.

If she took a break and recovered some magical energy, she would be able

to use Fly many more times, and it would be safer to move in daylight

anyhow. Many forest-dwelling monsters were nocturnal.

It would be far safer to spend the night in hiding than to force herself

through the dark forest.

But she didn't know where she could take shelter.

If Imina had been there, she would have told her. If Hekkeran and

Roberdyck had been there, she could have rested easy even in a dangerous

area. Now, though, she didn't have any teammates to rely on.

"Imina… Roberdyck…" She leaned against a tree and thought of her

friends. "You liars…"

So much time had passed, and yet she hadn't gotten any word from them.

So they couldn't escape.

No, she had already known—that they wouldn't be able to beat that

incomparably powerful being, Ainz. Then perhaps the reason she held out a

faint hope was that she was a fool…

She sat heavily, rested her back on the tree, and closed her eyes. She was

aware of the danger, but she just wanted to close her eyes.

She squeezed them shut and thought of her three friends.

The bark of the tree felt pleasantly cool against her head. Once she had a

rested a moment, it hit her how tired she really was. Her elevated tension

weighed her down with mental exhaustion.

She sighed.

She relaxed her neck and tilted her head back.

And her eyes nearly popped out of it.

She couldn't process the thing that appeared in her vivid field of Night

Vision.

Something was looking down at her.

It was a girl Arché had never seen before, so beautiful she got the chills.

Her clothes were entirely out of place—a soft-looking raven-black ball

gown. Her skin was almost waxy white. She had gathered up her long silver

hair in one hand so it didn't hang down onto Arché.

Even the former noble Arché had never seen a girl this pretty. If she

appeared at a ball, all the men would be clamoring for her attention. With that

beauty, she could probably get whatever she wanted. The red eyes were so

bewitching, she felt like her soul might get sucked out.

Arché immediately came back to herself. Someone dressed like that

shouldn't be in a place like this. Besides, she had her feet planted on the tree

and was standing perpendicular to its trunk.

The possibility that came to mind was that she was giving chase on behalf

of Ainz. But she couldn't say for sure that she wasn't a longtime inhabitant of

the forest.

"Are we done playing tag?"

Her faint hope was crushed.

"You're after me?" Arché leaped to her feet and pointed her staff at the

girl while securing some distance.

Meanwhile, the girl seemed to almost have lost interest in Arché and

walked down the tree onto the ground. "Better run."

"If I defeat you right here, I'll be able to get away safely," she said,

though she was grimacing on the inside. She knew she wouldn't be able to

beat any pursuer sent by that monster stronger than the bounds of common

sense allowed. But she put on a brave front to gauge her opponent's reaction.

"Go right ahead. I have time for a dalliance." Her attitude said she was

fully aware of the gap between their abilities. In other words, fighting Arché

was only a game for her.

"Fly!"

Arché cast the spell and began her escape. She didn't have time to fly

sluggishly near the ground. She ascended all at once. Protecting her face with

her hands, she sped through the branches and popped out above the trees.

Arché took in her surroundings beneath the night sky. She was on guard

against the presence of a monster like those huge bats she had seen before,

but she didn't see any nearby. Then all she had to do was flee.

"Yeah! You can do it! You can do it!"

Just as she was about to get away, a pretty voice cheered her on. Her heart

nearly jumped out of her chest. Her eyes roamed, trying to find where the

voice had come from. Then in front of her, higher than she was—at some

point the girl had appeared.

"Lightning!"

A pale-blue shock ripped across the sky from the tip of Arché's staff and

struck her. It was the highest-tier attack spell Arché could use, but even when

it zapped through the girl, her smile didn't waver.

She's a being equal to Ainz, Arché realized. That meant she didn't stand a

chance. As she attempted to flee, the girl's voice shouted gleefully. "My

kin!"

Huge wings sprouted from her back. They were like bat wings, only

gigantic. An extraordinarily large bat separated from her and took flight. Of

course, the crimson-eyed bat couldn't be a mere beast.

The girl sneered at her as the bat climbed into the sky with audible flaps

of its wings. It was a sinister smile that didn't seem her age at all and made

Arché's blood run cold.

"Now then, do your best to flee…"

Arché flew away.

She thought only of fleeing and flew.

She swooped into the forest to lose the thing chasing her and flew, though

the branches hurt her.

The reason she had left her teammates behind was to flee. She had to at

least get away. She would do anything to get away.

And how long had she been flying when…? She met despair face-to-face.

A wall.

There was an invisible wall.

Though the world went on and on, a wall stood in her way. She was over

six hundred feet aboveground. The wall went that high.

"What…?" she murmured, hopeless. She flew, brushing her hand along it,

but wall, wall, wall, wall.

Yes, the hard sensation under her hand remained wherever she went.

"What is this?"

"A wall."

She was talking to herself, so there shouldn't have been an answer, and

yet… With an idea of whose voice it was, she turned around with a worn-out

look on her face.

It was who she had expected: the little girl. And near her flapped three of

those huge bats.

"You seem to have misunderstood something. This is the sixth level of the

Great Tomb of Nazarick. In other words, you're underground."

"This is?" She pointed at the world around them. The sky had stars, a

breeze was blowing, and a forest spread across the earth. Her idea that a place

like this couldn't possibly be underground clashed with the thought that these

people could probably pull off something like that.

"The Forty-One Supreme beings are the former rulers of this land, as well

as our creators. This is a system they built that even we cannot comprehend."

"They created the world? But that's what the gods…"

"Exactly. To us, Lord Ainz and the others who were once with us are

godlike beings."

Arché looked around.

She had already accepted it. Having been told all that, what other choice

did she have but to accept? She would never get out of this place alive.

"Now then, you aren't going to run away?"

"Can I?"

"No. Because I have no intention of allowing you to escape."

"I see."

She clenched her staff in both hands and lunged at the girl. She was out of

magical energy, so she couldn't use any spells. But she would still fight to

run, all the way to the end. That's what she had to do as the last remaining

member of Foresight.

"Yes, yes, nicely done," the girl responded to Arché's desperate charge in

a bored voice. "Your getaway ends here. How unfortunate that you didn't

collapse into a sobbing heap."

The girl effortlessly caught Arché's staff mid-swing and yanked it toward

her. Arché lost her balance and fell into the girl. The pair of them wrestled in

midair.

In one smooth motion, the girl buried her face in Arché's neck. Arché

struggled, trying to throw her off, but she wouldn't budge—it was as if they

were glued together.

She shivered at an unpleasantly warm breath on the nape of her neck.

"…Oh. You smell all sweaty."

Arché was a worker. She couldn't help it if her body wasn't pristine while

she was on a job. It was just par for the course for workers, adventurers,

travelers, and anyone outside for long periods of time. If anybody got called

dirty, they would just say And? and laugh.

But when a gorgeous girl younger than her said it, she couldn't help but

feel ashamed.

The girl's face moved away from Arché's neck. The moment she saw

those crimson eyes, she was seized by an intense loathing—because her eyes

were like those of a lustful man about to devour a woman's body.

"Relax. You'll go to your death painlessly. Be grateful for Lord Ainz's

mercy."

"!" She'd been about to talk back, but she was shocked—by the fact that

she couldn't move. It was as if her soul had been swallowed up by those

crimson eyes.

That was when the true nature of this girl finally dawned on Arché. Her

opponent wasn't a human but a vampire.

"…And now…" The girl brought her face in close, and the tongue that

slipped between her parted lips licked Arché's cheek. "Salty."

The girl grinned, and despair tormented Arché's heart.

The girl's grin widened.

Her lips reached her ears in a smile that threatened to split her face right

open. Pigment seeped from her irises, turning her eyeballs entirely bloodred.

Then her mouth sprang open. It had been lined with pretty white teeth, but

now it had sprouted multiple sharklike rows of countless narrow, white things

reminiscent of syringes. Her oral cavity sparkled wetly, gleaming an obscene

pink as clear drool spilled from the corners of her mouth.

The fear welling up from the pit of Arché's stomach enveloped her.

"Ah-ha! Ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Before this cackling monster belching the stench of blood, Arché parted

from her mind.

The last thing she thought of were her two sisters waiting for her at home.

"Huhhhh? You blacked ouuuuuuuuut? Then I don't have to knock you

unconscious with magic. Enter the god of death's embrace right there from

your dreams."