OVERLORD

Volume 5: The Men in the Kingdom | Part I

Kugane Maruyama | Illustration by so-bin

Contents

Cover
Title Page

Prologue
Chapter 1: A Young Man’s Heart
Chapter 2: Blue Roses
Intermission
Chapter 3: The Finders and the Found
Chapter 4: Congregated Men
Chapter 5: Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks
Character Profiles

Afterword
Information
Prologue
 Prologue

Lower Fire Month, 1st Day – 14:15

As he looked up, a light drizzle began falling from the dark clouds which had
covered the sky since this morning, as though they could no longer contain
themselves anymore.
Gazef Stronoff, the Warrior-Captain of the Kingdom, clicked his tongue
loudly as he looked on the rain-grayed world before him.
If he had left earlier, perhaps he might have been home by now.
He looked up again, and saw that the clouds filled the sky above the city of Re-
Estize, the Royal Capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom. There was probably no point
waiting for the rain to stop.
Therefore, he decided not to linger in the Royal Palace. After drawing up the
hood of his cloak, he stepped out into the rain.
The gate guards made way as they saw him, and he strode onto the main road
of the Royal Capital.
It would normally be full of life and activity, but there was hardly anyone there
now, just a few pedestrians walking carefully on the waterlogged road lest they
fell down.
Given that there was hardly anyone around, the rain had been falling for some
time now.
Well, if that’s the case, then it can’t be helped. Leaving earlier wouldn’t have made a
difference.
The heavy rain soaked the outside of his cloak and weighed it down. He walked
silently through the rain, passing several others who were similarly attired in
wet-weather gear. While his cloak did provide him with a measure of protection
from the rain, the sticky sensation of the wet cloth was uncomfortable against
his skin. Gazef picked up the pace and hurried home.
Gazef breathed a sigh of relief as he neared his home and freedom from his
soaked cloak. Just then, something drew his attention. A filthy man sat in an
alley, heedless to the rain which shrouded the world like a veil, tucked inside an
alley that was a short right turn away from the main road.
The man’s hair looked like it had been haphazardly dyed, and one could see
the original color at the roots. His hair was plastered to his forehead by the rain
and beaded with water droplets. His head was lowered, and his face could not be
seen.
Gazef’s attention was drawn to him because he was puzzled by how the man
was not wearing any rain gear and seemed entirely unconcerned by the fact that
he was thoroughly drenched. Something seemed to stand out about him —
particularly his right hand, which drew his attention.
That right hand clenched a weapon tightly, like a child clinging to his mother’s
hand. It seemed quite incongruous with the man’s disheveled appearance. It was
a weapon that hailed from the distant deserts of the south, a rare and precious
treasure known as a Katana.
He’s holding a sword… Is he a bandit? No… I’m not getting a feeling like that from
him. He’s nothing of the sort. It seems almost… nostalgic?
A bizarre feeling grew in Gazef’s heart. Something was amiss here, like he had
unfastened one of his buttons.
Gazef stopped to look at the man’s profile. When he realized who he was
looking at, the memories washed over him like the rising tide.
“Don’t tell me you’re… Un-Unglaus?”
Even as he said that, Gazef thought, it can’t be.
Brain Unglaus. His opponent in the finals of the Kingdom’s previous martial
tournament.
The image of the main who had fought so fiercely and so closely with him was
still branded in Gazef’s mind. He had been the strongest warrior Gazef had ever
faced ever since he had taken up the sword. Perhaps that was merely wishful
thinking on Gazef’s part, but he considered Brain to be a worthy foe, and he
could not forget the man’s face.
Yes, the emaciated profile of the man before him was roughly similar to that
of his rival.
However — that could not be.
His facial features were very similar. The years might have changed him, but
Gazef could still recall the way he looked back then. However, the man in Gazef’s
memory did not have such a pathetic expression on his face. That man was
absolutely confident in his swordsmanship and his fighting spirit burned like an
inferno. He was nothing like this pathetic shell of a man.
Water splashing around him, Gazef walked towards the man in question.
The man seemed to react to the sound, and slowly raised his head.
Gazef drew in a breath. Seeing him head-on made him change his mind. There
was no doubt that this man was Brain Unglaus, the genius swordsman.
However, the Brain before him had lost the luster of his past, and he was
nothing more than a beaten dog.
Brain rose unsteadily to his feet. No warrior would ever permit themselves to
move so sluggishly or lazily. Even an aged veteran would not act in that way. His
eyes were downcast as he turned and left, his footsteps devoid of energy.
His form shrank in the rain. Gazef had the feeling that if he let Brain go now,
he would never see him again, so he hurriedly shouted:
“…Unglaus! Brain Unglaus!”
If the man had said, “You’ve got the wrong guy,” Gazef would have told
himself that he had merely seen someone who looked like him. However, a weak,
thready voice, like the buzzing of a mosquito, filtered into Gazef’s ears.
“…Stronoff?”
It was an utterly lifeless voice. It was completely different from the voice of
the Brain who had pointed his sword at him.
“What’s going on? What happened to you?” Gazef asked in shock.
What on earth was going on?
Any man could fall, no matter who they were. Gazef had seen many people
like that. Those who wanted to run away from things and sought refuge in
mediocrity often lost everything by making a single mistake.
However, he could not connect people like that to Brain Unglaus, that genius
swordsman. Perhaps he did not wish to admit that his strongest foe could have
degenerated into someone like this.
Their eyes met.
What kind of face is that…
His cheeks were hollow and there were dark circles under his eyes. Said eyes
were lifeless and his face was pale. He looked like a corpse.
No, a corpse would be better than this… Unglaus looks like a zombie…
“…Stronoff. It’s broken.”
“What?”
The first thing Gazef did when he heard this was look at the sword in Brain’s
hand. And then, Gazef realized he had been mistaken. It was not his sword which
was broken—
“Say, are we strong?”
Gazef could not reply “We are strong.”
He thought of the incident in Carne Village. Back then, he would have died
with his men had the mighty magic caster called Ainz Ooal Gown not come to
save them. The man known as the strongest in the Kingdom only counted for
that much. He did not dare speak proudly of his strength.
Gazef did not know how Brain had interpreted his silence, but the other man
continued:
“Weak. We’re so weak. We’re only human, after all, and humans are weak. Our
sword skills are trash. In the end we’re nothing more than the inferior lifeforms
known as human beings.”
It was true; humans were weak.
That much was obvious when they were compared to Dragons, the mightiest
race. Humans did not have sturdy scales, sharp claws, or wings to take them
through the heavens. Neither could they expel breath that could annihilate
everything before them. How could humans even compete?
That was why warriors often challenged Dragons to prove their strength.
Relying on one’s hard-earned experience, one’s comrades and one’s weapons to
defeat a foe with an overwhelming advantage in physical abilities was glorious,
an accomplishment of which only a few outstanding warriors could boast.
That being the case, had Brain failed in slaying a Dragon?
Could it be that he had reached for a distant height but missed, and thus lost
his balance and fallen?
“…I don’t get it. Any warrior ought to know that, right? Humans have always
been weak.”
Indeed, he did not understand. Everyone was familiar with the concept of an
unreachable height.
Gazef was hailed as the mightiest warrior of the surrounding nations, but he
still had doubts about himself.
For instance, how there might be a warrior that was stronger than Gazef,
hidden in the Theocracy. In addition, demi-humans like Ogres and Giants had
better physical abilities than Gazef, the human. Therefore, if these races
managed to advance their skills to equal Gazef’s — or even if their skills were
slightly inferior to his — he would not be able to beat them.
 Gazef knew that such heights existed, even if they could not be seen. Did Brain
not understand that? It seemed like common sense for any warrior.
“Well, there are races stronger than ourselves. That’s why we train to defeat
them, no?”
He had to believe that he could reach those heights someday.
And then, Brain shook his head forcefully. It sent the water from his rain-
soaked hair splashing in all directions.
“No! That’s not enough!” he shouted as though he were vomiting up his
lifeblood.
The man before him finally began to resemble the image in Gazef’s memories.
He could sense something like the spirit Brain had shown while wielding his
sword. However, the contents of what he said were at odds with that same spirit.
“Stronoff! You can’t beat the truly powerful with any amount of training!
Humans can’t do it. That’s the true meaning of power. Our feeble strength is
nothing more than child’s play to them. We’re nothing more than kids playing
at being warriors!”
He seemed to have lost his cool as he faced Gazef.
“…I say, Gazef. You’re pretty confident in your sword skills, right? But… it’s
nothing but trash. You hold up your trash and think you can protect the people!”
“…Did you see something so powerful that it changed you?”
“I did. I experienced it. It was a height that no human could reach. Or no,”
Brain smiled, mocking himself. “I didn’t even see the true heights of her power.
I was too weak to even glimpse such a thing. She was just fooling around. What
a joke.”
“Then you should train harder, in the hopes of someday catching sight of it…”
Brain suddenly flared up, and his face twisted in anger.
“You don’t understand anything! The bodies of men can’t hope to come close
to that monster! Even the ultimate perfection of swordsmanship won’t get you
there, I’m sure of it! …It’s all useless. What was I even aiming for in the first
place?”
Gazef had nothing to say.
He had seen people with scarred souls like these before. Those were people
who had lost all hope in life because their friends had died before them.
Nobody could save them. Nobody else could help them. They had to pull
themselves together and pick themselves up again. Otherwise there was no point
in extending a helping hand to them.
 “…Unglaus.”
“…Listen to me, Stronoff. The strength of the sword is nothing. In the face of
true power, it’s nothing but trash.”
Gazef could not see any sign of the heroic visage that had once been Brain.
“…I’m very glad to have met you at the end.”
Gazef watched Brain leave with pained eyes.
After seeing the pathetic and utterly broken remains of the man he had once
considered his strongest rival, Gazef could no longer bring himself to call out to
him. However, he said one thing before he left; one thing that Gazef could not
pretend he had not heard.
“Now… I can die.”
“Wait! Hold on, Brain Unglaus!”
A fire burned in Gazef’s heart as he shouted after Brain.
He stepped forward and seized Brain’s shoulder.
Brain’s wobbly gait was nothing like it had been in the past. Even so, when
Gazef pulled on his shoulder with all his might, he lost his balance, but did not
fall. That was because he had trained his core well and his sense of balance was
very good.
That put Gazef somewhat at ease. His instincts told him that his rival’s
strength had not diminished.
There was still hope. He could not watch a man die like that.
“…What are you doing?”
“Come to my house.”
“Stop. Don’t help me. I just want to die… I don’t want to live in fear anymore.
I don’t want to cower at shadows or think that someone’s chasing me. I can’t
take reality anymore. I don’t want to admit that I swung a piece of trash around
and thought I was actually someone.”
Brain’s pleading tone sparked irritation in Gazef’s heart.
“Shut up. Follow me.”
While he told Brain to follow him, in truth Gazef was merely dragging Brain
forward by the arm. Brain’s footsteps were unsteady, but he did not resist and
followed obediently. After seeing Brain like that, a sense of displeasure grew in
Gazef that he could not articulate.
“You’re going to change, you’re going to eat, and then you’re going straight to
bed.”
 ●

Middle Fire Month, 26th Day – 13:45

This was the Royal Capital Re-Estize, of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
The capital of this nation of nine million people could best be described as an
aged city. That not only described its long history, but hinted that life here was
as simple, unchanging and stagnant as it had always been — among other things.
That much was obvious the moment one walked the streets.
The surrounding houses were old and plain for the most part. Hardly any of
them were new or fancy. However, there were many ways to view this piece of
street scenery. Some would consider it to be steeped in historical flavor, while
others would consider it boring and stale.
The Royal Capital seemed to be the same as it always had been, enduring
season after season throughout the centuries.
But of course, nothing could remain unchanged forever.

Many roads in the Royal Capital were unpaved, and every time the rain came
they turned to mud, thus creating a sight that did not belong to a city. Of course,
this did not imply that the standards of the Kingdom were low. Rather, the
standards of the Empire and the Theocracy were too high, so that they could not
even be mentioned in the same breath.
The streets could not be considered wide either. Therefore, nobody walked in
the middle of the road — where the horse carts traveled. Instead, the citizens
rubbed shoulders in messy processions at the sides of the streets. The citizens
of the Royal Capital were used to this and could weave through the mass of
humanity like a shuttle through a loom. Even when two people were about to
collide with each other, they could deftly evade each other moments before
impact.
However, the street where Sebas was walking differed from many others in
the city. The surface was paved — a rarity in the Capital — and the road itself
was wide.
 The reason for that was immediately apparent when one looked to either side.
The houses lining this street were regal and well-furnished, radiating an
atmosphere of wealth and prosperity.
That was because this lively and bustling avenue was the main road of the
Royal Capital.
No few ladies turned to watch as Sebas strode by in style, drawn by his
handsome features and his distinguished gentleman’s bearing. Some of them
even fluttered their eyelashes at him head-on, but Sebas paid them no heed. He
continued forward with his back ramrod-straight, his eyes fixed forward, his
steps ordered and unhurried.
His inexorable tread — which seemed like it would not halt before reaching
his destination — suddenly ground to a halt. Then, he glanced to either side,
taking in the oncoming horse carts from both sides, and then he strode across
the main street.
He walked towards an old lady. There was a backpack full of goods on the
ground, and the old lady was massaging her ankles beside those.
“Is something the matter?”
The old lady was taken by surprise as someone suddenly struck up
conversation with her. She raised her head, a guarded look on her face. However,
Sebas’ looks and his opulent style of dress made that wariness fade.
“You seem to be in distress. Is there any aid I can give?”
“No, it’s alright. How could I let an old gent like yourself help me…”
“Please, pay that no heed. Helping those in trouble is common sense, after
all.”
Sebas smiled evenly, and the old lady blushed. That charming smile of his,
coming from a distinguished gentleman like himself, broke through the final
barriers of her heart.
The old lady ran a stall, and she was on her way home after closing up shop
for the day. However, she had sprained her ankle halfway, which vexed her
greatly.
The main streets were comparatively safe, but that did not imply that all the
people who walked on it were good-natured. If she asked the wrong person for
help, she might end up losing everything she had. The old lady had heard of such
robberies before, which was why she was leery of asking just about anyone for
help.
That being the case, the solution was simple.
 “I shall walk you home. Could you show me the way?”
“Sir, is that really alright?”
“Of course. Having encountered someone who needs help, I am bound to offer
it.”
Sebas turned his back to the old lady as she thanked him.
“Come, I shall give you a ride.”
“But… but…” the old lady replied uncomfortably. “My clothes are dirty and
they’ll get yours dirty too!”
However—
Sebas smiled amiably.
What did it matter if his clothes were stained? There was no need to worry
about such trifles when helping someone in need.
He unconsciously recalled the faces of his colleagues from the Great
Underground Tomb of Nazarick. They would probably react to this with
surprise, annoyance, or contempt. Still, no matter what Demiurge — who was
the most strongly opposed to this sort of thing — said to him, Sebas was certain
that he was in the right.
Helping others was the right thing to do.
After persuading the old lady, he carried her on his back and lifted the
backpack with one hand.
Even the onlookers — to say nothing of the old lady herself — gasped in awe
as they saw him walking with even strides despite carrying that heavy pack.
Guided by the old lady, Sebas set forth.
Chapter 1 A Young Man’s Heart
 Chapter 1 | A Young Man’s Heart

Lower Fire Month, 2nd Day – 23:30

The man lit the lantern that hung at his waist. It used a special oil for fuel,
which produced a green flame, and it gave off a creepy looking light which
illuminated the surroundings.
He stepped outside, and felt as though he were walking into a wall of heat. A
look of distaste crossed the man’s face, but the season had always been hot to
begin with, and nothing could be done about it. Around this period, every place
in the Kingdom was still muggy and unpleasant, even after sunset. That said, the
time of harsh heat was gone, and the temperature ought to go down as time went
by.
Still, there was no sign that it was changing for the cooler.
“Ah, today was hot too.”
“Yeah. I heard that it’s cooler up north, near the ocean,” the man grumbled.
His partner for tonight replied:
“If only there were some rain. That would take the edge off the heat.”
 He looked to the sky as he said that. The sky was clear; there were no clouds
in the sky, to say nothing of rainclouds. The constellations seemed abnormally
large, but it was simply the usual night sky.
“Yeah, some rain would be good… Alright, time to work.”
It would not be quite right to describe these men as ordinary villagers. For
starters, they were armed. They wore leather armor and had longswords at their
waist; far too militarized for ordinary village guards. In addition, their faces and
bodies did not look like those of farmers, but hinted at a familiarity with
violence.
The two of them walked into the village without a sound.
Shrouded in night, the village was silent save for their footsteps. They pressed
forward steadily amidst this sinister atmosphere, as though nothing else lived
here. Their calm attitudes suggested that patrols like these were daily business
for them.
The village they walked in was surrounded by a high wall, and there were six
watchtowers within sight. They looked sturdy and well-built; even frontier
villages which were frequently attacked by monsters would not boast such
formidable watchtowers.
This was not so much a village as a military base.
Even so, a third party might only consider this to be a heavily fortified village.
However, what that observer saw next would truly furrow their brow.
Under normal circumstances, most people would only encircle residences and
storehouses when building a wall, and leave the crop fields outside. That was
because a wall that was big enough to include the fields would be a ruinous
investment of time and money. However, this village had done precisely that,
gathering the green fields of crops which swayed in the night wind into its walls,
within the village. It was as though said crops were gold bullion which had to be
hoarded.
The men walking through this strange village felt someone looking at them
from a watchtower. The fact was that there were bow-armed men on the towers.
All he needed to do was raise his lantern high in case of an emergency, and his
friends would come to his aid.
That said, when he thought about his colleague’s skills, the man was not very
excited about having them support him with arrow shots. However, he was
greatly reassured by the fact that his friends could wake all their comrades by
ringing the alarm bell.
 His colleagues — who were sleeping between shifts — would give him an
earful if he raised his lantern by mistake. However, the man was determined to
wave it at the merest sign that something was wrong.
He did not wish to lose his life over a small matter.
That said, he did not actually think anything bad would happen. They had been
performing the same patrols for several months, and he imagined that these
patrols would carry on forever.
As he considered his future with distaste, the man continued his slow walk
through the village down his fixed route.
Halfway through his patrol, a serpentine object suddenly wrapped itself
around the man’s neck. No — that was not a snake. The object that wrapped
itself around his mouth and did not let go was an octopus’ tentacle.
Right after it lifted the man’s chin, searing pain blossomed over his exposed
throat. This sequence of actions took less than a second.
A gurgling sound, like that of drinking, came from his throat.
That was the last sound the man would ever hear in his life.

The hand holding his mouth let go, supporting him from behind so he would
not slump to the ground. After verifying that the man had been thoroughly
exsanguinated, his assailant pulled out the Vampire Blade, the weapon which
had killed him.
The being holding the man upright was a figure in black. Its entire body was
obscured in jet black clothing save its eyes. Said clothing was made of cloth, with
gauntlets and other pieces of armor to improve defensive ability. A metal plate
covered its chest, but it bulged visibly, giving it the shape of a pair of feminine
breasts.
Another similarly dressed figure emerged from behind the other man’s back.
Much like her partner, she wore a metal breastplate. The first looked to the
second, and nodded.
She scanned her surroundings after verifying the silent death of her victim. It
would seem nobody had noticed this.
Somewhere in the corner of her heart, she breathed a sigh of relief.
The lanterns illuminated them, but the observers from the platform above
should not be able to see them, given that they were pressed tightly against the
two men. All they had to worry about was that they might be spotted in the
instant of their [Shadow Step] — a short-ranged teleportation from one shadow
to another — but that worry was a thing of the past now.
She paid no attention to the dagger, whose bright red hue had become even
more vibrant after draining blood, and propped up the man’s body before it
could collapse.
From the observation platform above, it looked like the two patrolling men
had stopped in their tracks. However, if they kept the two men standing still or
let them slump to the ground, someone would be suspicious.
Something had to be done right away. However, that was not their job.
The woman suddenly felt the man’s limp body lurch under her hands, as
though someone had driven a stake into it. In the next moment, she knew she
had not been mistaken; the man lurched into stiff motion.
The man was still moving despite being clearly dead, but the woman was not
alarmed. Everything was proceeding as planned.
She let go and at the same time activated a skill. This was a ninja technique
she had learned, called [Shadow Meld]. With this ability, she could fuse
seamlessly with any shadow and become invisible to the naked eye.
The two of them blended into the men’s shadows, and the men stepped
forward, like they had been suddenly unshackled. The pause, and then the way
they walked their original patrol route looked like they had suddenly
remembered what they had to do. However, they moved slowly and clumsily.
Their wounds had not been healed, but they did not leak blood either. That was
because said blood had been completely drained from their bodies.
The two men had become Zombies, obediently following the will of their
creator. There was no other explanation for how they could still move in that
state.
The women were not the Zombies’ creator.
To an average observer, there were only two men here. Even if one saw
through the women’s camouflage, there would only appear to be four people
here. However, there was a fifth person present. This fifth person was the
creator of the zombies.
Their eyes could not see anything, but one of the ninja skills they had learned
allowed them to detect the presence of those who were concealed by magic or
some other skills, and one such entity stood before them.
 “The preparations here are complete.”
“Perfect.”
She spoke quietly and received a similarly hushed reply.
“Mm, got it, I saw it all. I’ll be heading to the next location. I need to catch
someone who’s sufficiently important.”
Another female voice. However, hers was higher pitched, giving the
impression of a tender maiden.
“We’re going to begin our assault too. How about the other two?”
“Are they slacking off because they can’t contribute?”
“As if. They’re hiding near the village and they’ve set themselves up. In an
emergency, they’ll launch a frontal assault coordinated with you for a pincer
attack. Alright, I’ll be heading towards Priority One. Stick to the plan, you two.”
Their concealed companion floated gracefully — at least, they got that
impression — into the sky. It seemed consistent with the movement granted by
the [Fly] spell.
The presence drew further away, until she vanished into the building she had
designated as Priority One. This was one of the structures within the village, and
a key point which had to be taken.
In truth, other buildings should have had higher priority, but this place took
precedence over the others once the problem of the [Message] spell came into
play.
Many people regarded that form of magical communication as unreliable, and
so it was rarely used. However, there were others who did not think of it in that
way and made use of it. For instance, there was the Empire and its cadre of
nationally trained magic casters, a certain number of important traders who
valued the quick reception of information, and then the enemies who controlled
this village. Therefore, their top priority was to apprehend the communications
personnel within the building.
Since their colleague was already on their way, they had to hide themselves
near their objective as quickly as possible. This was because they had to act
simultaneously and launch their attack before the enemy discovered their
presence.
The two ninjas exhaled suddenly, and ran.
Normal people would not be able to follow the way they flitted from dark
corner to dark corner. On top of that, when they used the magic items they had
on them, even high-leveled adventurers would have a very hard time spotting
them. In other words, nobody in the village could detect them.
One of them flashed a series of hand signals to her companion as they ran.
Though it was merely a series of finger-bending movements, the meaning was
immediately clear.
—We’re lucky they didn’t have dogs.
Came the reply: “Agreed.”
This was sign language, of a kind commonly used by assassins. To
consummate professionals like themselves, these hand signals were as quick as
regular speech. They had also taught their companions the language, but said
colleagues had only learned how to make simple gestures and basic secret
signals. In contrast, the pair of them had a wide enough “vocabulary” and
sufficient signing speed to use that sign language for everyday speech, and they
frequently passed secret messages to each other in that way.
—Good point. Things are much easier without dogs being drawn by the scent of
blood.
If the patrols had brought dogs with them, the assassinations would not have
been so easy. While they had ways to deal with dogs, it was better to not have to
deal with troublesome things.
After her response, her companion rapidly signaled:
—Then, I’ll head for my designated building.
She replied, “Got it,” and then her companion peeled away and to the side.
This left her to run by herself. She glanced aside to the fields.
Those fields did not grow wheat, grains or green vegetables. The plants there
were the raw ingredient for a forbidden drug whose spread was on the rise
throughout the Kingdom, called “Black Powder.” There were many such fields
within the walls of this village, and they all grew the same crop. This proved that
this village was a center of drug cultivation.

The drug known as Black Dust was also known as Laira Powder. It was a black,
powdery substance that was dissolved into water and drunk.
This drug was easy to mass-produce, cheap, and gave its users an easily
accessible high and sense of intoxication. Thus, it was one of the most famous
drugs in the Kingdom. While it was toxic in addition to the aforementioned
effects, its users often believed that it had no side effects, and so it was widely
abused.
She snorted as she thought about the Black Powder’s side effects.
All drugs had side effects. “I can quit any time I want to” was the stuff of a
madman’s ravings. After dissecting the corpses of Black Powder addicts, they
found that their brains had shrunk to four-fifths the size of a normal person’s.
Black Powder, made from a concoction of wild plants, was originally a
powerful poison. Who would believe that such a toxic plant was not poisonous?
The Black Powder which was ubiquitous on the streets was a narcotic that was
made from a cultivar of the original plant which had reduced potency.
Even so, the Black Powder was still very poisonous, and it would only be
eliminated from the body after a very long time had passed. As a result, many
abusers who stopped using the drug often dosed themselves again before it had
completely left the body. As a result, after reaching a certain stage of addiction,
it was nearly impossible for users to quit the habit cold turkey, unless the priests
used their magic to forcibly purge their system of the drug.
The most troublesome part about drugs like these were their subtle signs of
addiction. Even users on a bad trip did not show signs of physical violence and
harm others. Thus, the higher-ups in the Kingdom did not understand the
danger of Black Powder, and it had practically received their silent approval.
It was little wonder that the Empire had submitted formal complaints on the
matter, on the suspicion that the Kingdom was running an underground
industry in the production of Black Powder.
While she had still been an assassin, she had used Black Powder on occasions,
and her organization had grown the plants needed to make it. As a result, she
was not personally opposed to the substance. Drugs like that could be put to
efficacious use if applied properly. The fact was that it was simply a dangerous
medicinal herb.
However, she had been hired for this job, and her personal opinion had no say
in it. Still—
…Requests that don’t go through the Adventurer’s Guild are a little dangerous.
—She was not entirely comfortable with this request.
She frowned under the cloth covering her face. The requester for this job was
a friend of her team’s leader. While she had been reassured that the other party
would remunerate them appropriately, not going through the Guild might cause
problems. That was true even if they were one of the two adamantite-ranked
adventurer parties in the Kingdom.
Hm, isn’t it three of them now?
As she thought about the newest adamantite-ranked adventurer team, she
arrived at the building designated Priority Two.
Her task was to recover all the intelligence within this building, and then to
set the fields on fire.
The thick smoke emitted by the burning drugs was poisonous, but it had to be
done to complete the mission.
It was quite possible that the wind might carry the smoke in a direction that
would harm the villagers, but they did not have the time or the ability to evacuate
the villagers.
Sacrifices must be made.
With those words to herself, she cast all thoughts of the villagers’ safety out
of her mind.
She had been trained as an assassin from childhood, and death rarely troubled
her heart. In particular, she was unmoved by the sad fates of strangers,
regardless of what tragedies befell them. The only thing she disliked was the look
on her leader’s face whenever somewhat had to be sacrificed. However, she had
obtained her leader’s approval while drawing up this plan, so the thought of
saving others did not even cross her mind.
More importantly, after the attack here was completed, she would need to use
teleportation magic to move to another village and burn it down as well. That
plan occupied her mind and consumed all her efforts.
This was not the only site which grew the raw materials for drugs. According
to their research, there were ten large-scale plantations within the Kingdom, and
those might not even be all of them. Otherwise, they would not be able to sustain
the massive quantities of drugs being trafficked throughout the Kingdom.
All we can do is pull up the weeds where we find them… it’s tiring, but there’s no
other way…
Ideally, they would be able to find written orders within this village, but that
was not likely. All they could do was hope that this village’s supervisor or
equivalent had information of similar importance.
Leader would be happy if we could find some traces of the organization’s involvement
in this…
The criminal organization which grew these drugs was known as Eight
Fingers. The name came from the eight-fingered God of Thieves who was a
vassal of the Earth God. It was a vast criminal syndicate that dominated the
Kingdom’s underworld.
This organization was divided into eight divisions, responsible for the slave
trade, assassination, smuggling, burglary, drug-trafficking, security, finance and
gambling. These eight divisions worked together as the collective kingpins of the
Kingdom’s crime. Due to the size of their organization, their full extent was
veiled in secrecy.
However, there was a clear sign of the extent of the influence within the
Kingdom. That was the village before her eyes.
They were openly growing contraband plants in villages. That alone was proof
that the lord of the land was in cahoots with them. However, even an official
inquiry would not bear fruit.
Even if the Royal Household began an investigation or took legal action,
actually bringing the nobles in question to justice was very difficult. The lord of
the land would certainly say, “I didn’t know these plants were the raw materials
for drugs,” or he would simply dump the problem on the villagers and say it was
their idea.
There were limits to the legal action that could be taken, and even if one
wished to stop the flow of drugs, the process would be impeded by corrupt
nobles aligned to the organization. The situation had deteriorated to the point
where those who stood on the right side of the law could no longer resolve it.
Therefore, they were left with the last resort of using violence and burning
the fields down.
Her frank opinion was that burning these drugs was only treating the
symptoms, and not the disease. The illegal organization eating away at the heart
of the Kingdom was too powerful, and their political backing was too strong.
“We’re just buying time… if we can’t turn things around, then all these efforts
will be for naught…”
 2

The rain fell.

The cacophony of the falling droplets rang in the ears.
The streets of the Royal Capital had not been designed with drainage in mind,
particularly the small alleys. In the end, the entire alley became a miniature lake.
Splashes of water flew up as raindrops fell upon the water’s surface. The wind
blew ripples through said splashes, and the scent of water was heavy in the air,
making the Royal Capital feel as though it were submerged underwater.
There was a boy in this world that had been dyed gray by the splashing of
water.
He lived in a run-down hovel. No, using the word hovel would be giving the
location undeserved praise. That building was supported by narrow beams as
wide around as a man’s forearm. A tatty piece of cloth substituted for a roof, and
the edges which draped down served as walls.
A boy of six lived in these conditions, which were little different from an open-
air restaurant. He was curled up in a corner like a casually discarded piece of
rubbish, lying on a thin cloth where he laid his head.
When one thought about it, the wood supports and the tatty cloth that served
as both roof and walls were most likely the fruit of this boy’s hard work — like a
child building a secret base.
The sole merit of this house that was unworthy of the name was that he was
not directly soaked by the rain. The endless deluge made the temperature sink
like a stone, shrouding the boy in shiver-inducing cold. The condensation from
his short, infrequent breaths were the only sign that he was alive, and as the
weather stole their heat, they vanished into the air.
The boy had been soaked by the frigid rain long before entering his home, and
he was rapidly losing body heat.
He had no way to stop his shivering.
However, this bone-chilling cold soothed the bruises which covered his body.
That was the only solace for him amidst these horrific conditions.
The boy remained curled up on the ground as he looked out at the abandoned
alley — at the world.
The only things he could hear were the sound of the rain and his own
breathing. There was nothing else in the absence of those sounds, which made
him think he was the only person left in the world.
The boy was young, but he understood that he was going to die.
He was not afraid of it because he was young, and did not fully understand the
concept of death. In addition, he did not feel that there was any particular reason
to continue living. He had been clinging to life all this time because he was afraid
of pain and fled it.
If he could die, right then and there, without feeling any pain — only the chill
of the wind and the hunger gnawing at his belly — then death was hardly a bad
thing.
He slowly lost the feeling in his rain-soaked body, and his mind began to fade
into a blur.
He should have found a place to hide from the rain before it fell, but he had
run afoul of several thugs and received a vicious beating. It was good enough
that he had managed to return here.
This was the sole morsel of joy he clung to. Did that mean that everything else
was suffering?
It was quite common for him to go two days without eating, so that was hardly
misfortune. He had neither parents nor anyone to take care of him, and that was
how it had always been, so that did not qualify as misery. His tattered clothes
and their repulsive stench were a fact of life for him, so that was not a hardship
for him. Eating rotten food and drinking dirty water to fill his belly was the only
way of life he knew, so it did not count as suffering.
But then, his hovel was sometimes taken by others, or destroyed by those who
took pleasure in wrecking it, and he was also beaten up by drunken men so his
entire body ached. Was that suffering, then?
No, it was not.
The boy suffered, yet he was blind to his own suffering.
However, all this would soon be over.
 The misery of which he was blissfully ignorant would end here.
Death came without distinction to the fortunate and the unfortunate alike.
—Yes, Death was absolute.

He closed his eyes.

His body had long since stopped feeling the cold, and now he lacked even the
strength to open his eyes.
He could hear his own faint heartbeat in the darkness. The sound of the rain
blended with it, but then he heard something strange intrude into this world of
his.
A voice drowned out the sound of the rain. Amidst the fleeting remnants of
his consciousness, the boy forced open his eyes, drawn by that curiosity unique
to children.
“It” entered the narrow field of his vision.
The boy’s rapidly closing eyes widened.
It was beautiful.
For a moment, he had no idea what it was.
The best description for it would be “gem-like,” or “glittering like gold.” Of
course, someone like him who ate discarded, half-rotten food to survive the days
could not think of such things.
Yes.
There was only one thing in his mind.
—Like the sun.
That was the most distant, unattainable thing he could imagine. That word
appeared in his mind.
The rain had dyed the world gray. The sky was filled with thick, black clouds.
Perhaps the sun felt that nobody would notice, and so it had taken a walk and
appeared before him.
A thought like that ran through his mind.
“It” reached out a hand to stroke his face. And so—
The boy was originally not a human being.
Nobody had treated the boy as a human being.
But on this day, he became a human being.
 ●

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 04:15

This was the Royal Capital of the Re-Estize Kingdoms. The Fortress Ro-Lente
stood at its heart, its grounds encircled by 1400 meters of curtain walls with 20
huge towers spaced along its length.
This room was located within one of those 20 towers.
The lanterns were out in this none-too-spacious room, and there was a bed in
there. A young man, somewhere between boyhood and adolescence, lay on the
bed.
His blond hair was cropped very short and his skin was tanned and appeared
healthy.
Climb.
He possessed only a name, but no surname. He was a soldier who had been
permitted to defend the lady with the title of “Golden” — an honor which had
earned him the envy of many.
He rose early, always before the sun rose.
When he realized his consciousness had emerged from a faraway world of
darkness, his mind cleared up immediately, and his body was almost fully
operational. Climb was proud of his ability to sleep and rise quickly.
His eyes opened wide, and an iron will burned within them.
He peeled away the thick towelket[1] covering his body — it was summer, but
the nights were cold when one was surrounded by stone — and Climb sat up on
his bed.
He touched his fingertips to the corner of his eyes. They came away wet.
“…That dream again, huh.”
Climb wiped his tears away with his sleeves.
The heavy rain of two or three days ago must have made him recall that
memory of his youth.
He was not crying out of heartbreak.
How many people could one meet in a lifetime who deserved respect? How

1. タオルケット (taoruketto), a type of bed linen resembling a cotton blanket. Mainly used
during the summer as a breathable comforter.
many worthy masters could one serve, the kind for whom one would gladly
throw one’s life away?
On that day, when Climb had the good fortune of encountering a certain lady,
he had decided to give his life for her at any time.
The tears he shed came from joy. He wept out of gratitude for the miracle that
encounter had brought.
Climb’s youthful face was filled with a steady determination as he rose to his
feet.
There was no illumination here. In this lightless world, Climb spoke, in a voice
that was hoarse from over-training:
“Lights on.”
The lamp on the ceiling shed white illumination in response to Climb’s
command word, lighting up the room’s interior. This was a magic item
enchanted with the [Continual Light] spell.
While items like these could be bought on the market, they were not cheap,
and Climb only possessed one due to his unique position.
Stone towers like these had poor ventilation, and burning things for
illumination was not safe. Therefore, almost every room here was furnished with
magical illumination, despite the steep initial expense.
The white light revealed that the floors and walls were also made of stone.
Several thin carpets were laid on the ground to lessen the cold hardness of the
stone. In addition, there was a crudely made wooden bed, and a slightly larger
clothes cabinet that seemed big enough to store his battle gear. There was a desk
with drawers, and then a wooden chair with a thin cushion on its seat.
An outsider might consider this austere, but it was more than he deserved, in
his opinion.
Regular soldiers would not be allocated individual rooms. They would share
double bunks and live in groups. The only other furniture they were assigned
besides their beds was a locked wooden chest for storing personal items.
He then glanced at the pure white suit of full plate armor in the corner of the
room. It was so lustrous that it seemed to shine by itself. A standard soldier
would never be issued such an exquisitely made suit of armor.
Naturally, Climb had not earned such special treatment through his own
merits. This was a gift from the liege to whom Climb owed his loyalty. Thus, it
was unavoidable that others would resent him.
He opened the dressing cabinet, and took clothes from within. Then he
dressed himself as he watched his image in the cabinet’s mirror.
First, he put on an old set of clothes. They smelled of metal, no matter how
many times he washed them. Then he slipped a chain shirt over it. Normally, he
would have donned his armor on top of that, but there was no need to be so
formal right now. In its place, he wore a many-pocketed vest and a pair of pants,
and then he was dressed. He held a bucket with a cloth in it.
After that, he studied the mirror once more, inspecting himself for anything
out of place or any oddities in his personal bearing.
Any mistakes Climb made would be fodder for attacks launched against the
“Golden” Princess whom he served.
Therefore, he had to be extra careful. He did not live in this place to cause
trouble to his Mistress. He was permitted to live here in order for himself to
dedicate everything he had to her.
Climb closed his eyes before the mirror, and imagined his Mistress’ face.
She was the Golden Princess — Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself.
As expected of her high-born bloodline, she was surrounded in a sacrosanct
aura, like a goddess descending upon the earth. She seemed to glow with
compassion, and her mind produced many wise plans and policies.
She was a noble among nobles, a princess among princesses. She was the
perfect woman.
Her golden brilliance — like an immaculate gemstone — could not be marred
in any way.
If one were to use a ring for comparison, Renner would be like a huge,
brilliant-cut diamond. As for Climb, he would be the setting which held the stone
in place. Any shortcoming in the setting diminished the value of the ring, so he
could not do anything which might devalue her.
Climb’s chest burned uncontrollably as he thought about his Mistress.
Even the most pious supplicants to the gods could not compare to Climb’s
devotion.
He examined himself for a while longer. After he was certain that he would
not disgrace his Mistress, Climb nodded in satisfaction and left the room.
 3

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 04:35

His destination was a training hall which occupied an entire floor of the tower.
Usually, this place would be abuzz with heat and activity from the soldiers
here. However, it was early, so there was nobody here. The empty room was
silent. The surroundings were made of stone, which made Climb’s footsteps
echo exceptionally loudly.
The [Continual Light] magical lamps lit the training hall brightly.
Within the hall, there were pieces of armor tied to wooden pillars and
dummies made of straw, to serve as archery targets. All manner of blunted
weapons hung on the wall.
Training should have been conducted outside, but there was a reason why it
was done indoors.
The Valencia Palace lay within Ro-Lente Keep. Therefore, having soldiers
train outside, where ambassadors and diplomatic parties could see them, would
be boorish. Thus, several indoor training halls had been built within the towers.
Granted, having proud and strong soldiers training in public could be used to
impress one’s counterparts during diplomatic negotiations, but the King did not
like that sort of thing. To him, the Kingdom was a nation that ought to show its
graceful, elegant and noble side to foreign guests.
That said, some training still needed to be conducted outdoors. At times like
those, the soldiers had to do so secretly in corners, or in fields outside the Keep
or outside the Capital entirely.
Climb quietly entered the hall, as though wading through the cold air, and
began warming up in a corner.
After about half an hour of stretching, Climb’s face was an uncommon shade
of red. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he exhaled puffs of smoke from his
exertions.
Climb wiped his sweat away and then approached the arms racks. He picked
up a heavy, blunted practice sword with a freshly blistered and callused hand.
Then he felt its weight, making sure it fit well in his grip.
After that, he loaded his pockets with metal slabs and fastened them in place,
lest the slabs fall out.
After being weighed down by several metal slabs, his clothes now weighed as
much as a suit of full plate armor. Unenchanted full plate was sturdy, but very
heavy, and the joints also restricted one’s range of movement. Therefore, Climb
should have worn a set of full plate to practice, for realism’s sake.
However, Climb did not want to wear a suit of full plate armor just for regular
practice. In addition, he knew that the white armor he had been awarded was
not suitable for training. Therefore, he used the metal slabs as a substitute.
He tightly gripped his sword, which was larger than a greatsword, and adopted
a high stance. Then Climb began to swing down, expelling his breath as he did.
In the moment before the practice weapon struck the ground, he held it still,
keeping it from actually striking the ground, and then brought it back up again
as he inhaled. He slowly increased the speed of his swings, his eyes fixed on the
air in front of him, his mind focused on his practice.
He repeated these movements around 300 times.
Climb’s face looked as though it could not possibly get any redder, and
droplets of sweat flowed down his cheeks. His exhaled breath was hot, as though
to vent the accumulated heat inside him.
Climb had been through harsh training as a soldier, but the weight of a
greatsword was still quite heavy to him. Controlling the sword’s speed to keep
it from striking the ground after swinging it down required considerable arm
strength.
After the 500th repetition, Climb’s arms began to cramp up and they felt like
they were crying out in pain. The sweat flooded down his face in a deluge.
Climb realized that he was at his limit. Even so, he did not intend to stop here.
And then—
“Don’t you think it’s time to take a break?”
—A third party called out to him. Climb hurriedly turned around to see a male
figure enter his field of vision.
There was no better word to describe him than “mighty.” Indeed, he was a
man who looked like a slab of forged steel. His stony face wrinkled, and the lines
thus produced made him look older than his actual age. His bulging muscles
proved that he was no ordinary person.
There was no soldier in the Kingdom who could not recognize him.
“—Stronoff-sama.”
He was the Kingdom’s Warrior-Captain, Gazef Stronoff. He was hailed as the
mightiest man in the Kingdom, and a warrior which nobody in the nearby
nations could rival.
“You’ll be overtraining if you keep it up. There’s no point forcing yourself.”
Climb lowered his sword, and looked at his arms as they trembled
uncontrollably.
“You’re right. I might have been overdoing it.”
Gazef rounded his shoulders at Climb’s expressionless thanks.
“If you really understand, then don’t make me keep nagging you about the
same old thing. How many times is this, anyway?”
“I’m very sorry.”
Gazef shrugged again as Climb bowed in apology.
This back and forth had repeated itself between them countless times. Under
normal circumstances, the two of them would leave things at that and focus on
their own training. However, today was different.
“How about it, Climb. Shall we go a round or two?”
Climb’s typically blank expression was thrown into disarray as he heard Gazef
say those words.
They had met here in the past, but they had never crossed blades. That was an
unspoken rule between them.
That was because it did them no good to practice together. Or rather; there
were merits to doing so, but they were far outweighed by the demerits of doing
so.
The Kingdom was now divided into the Royal Faction and the Noble Faction,
the latter of which was composed of a coalition of three of the nation’s Six Great
Nobles. The power struggle between them left the Kingdom’s situation in a very
precarious state. Some even felt that the only reason the country had not yet
fallen apart was because of its yearly wars with the Empire.
Under these circumstances, the King’s right-hand man — the Warrior-
Captain Gazef Stronoff — could not be defeated. For instance, if he were to be
beaten, it would provide the opposing Noble Faction with ample material to
criticize him with.
As for Climb, suffering a grievous defeat might mean that the nobles would
no longer allow him to defend Princess Renner’s body. The fact that many nobles
were disgusted that a nameless soldier like Climb was actually permitted to stay
by her side, being that she was a world-class beauty who was also an unmarried
princess.
Due to the aforementioned circumstances, neither party could afford to lose.
More than that, they could not allow others to see their weaknesses and give
their enemies an opening to exploit. Both of them were of common birth, and so
they had to be very careful in everything they did, in order not to cause problems
for their masters.
That being the case, why had Gazef decided to break this unspoken rule?
Climb looked around.
It could not be because there was nobody else around. The keep was a densely
populated area. Surely someone would be watching from afar or spying on them
from the shadows, but he could not think of any other reason.
Climb had no idea if it was because of a good or a bad reason. He was confused
and shocked, but he did not express it on his face.
However, the person before Climb was the mightiest warrior in the Kingdom.
Though Climb’s momentary consternation might have gone unnoticed by an
average person, the person before him picked up on it, and replied:
“Recently, I’ve begun feeling that my skills are inadequate. Therefore, I
wanted to train with someone who could last a while against me.”
“You actually think that, Stronoff-sama?”
What exactly had happened to make Gazef, the Kingdom’s best warrior, doubt
his own skills? Just then, Climb remembered that the unit Gazef led was short
of several people.
Climb had no kin, and so he had only heard the rumors in the mess hall.
Apparently, the unit had been involved in a certain incident and had lost several
people.
“Indeed. If not for a certain compassionate magic caster who aided me against
the foe, I might not be standing here today—”
Climb could no longer maintain his iron mask when he heard this. Indeed,
there was nobody who would not be surprised to hear those words. Unable to
restrain his curiosity, he asked:
“What sort of person was that compassionate magic caster?”
“…He called himself Ainz Ooal Gown. By my reckoning, he ought to be on par
with that monster of a mage from the Empire.”
Climb had never heard that name before.
Climb worshiped heroes, and he had a secret passion for heroic sagas. His
interest even crossed racial boundaries. In addition, he hungrily devoured any
adventurer stories that he had come across in the neighboring countries.
However, he had no memory of the person whom Gazef had mentioned.
Of course, he might have been using an alias.
“That, ah — ahem!”
Climb tamped down his curiosity.
How could I ask him excitedly about an incident where he lost his men? …That’d be
terribly rude.
“I shall remember the name of that great person… then, is it really alright for
me to train with you?”
“Well, it’s hardly training, just crossing blades once or twice. Whether or not
you learn anything from it is all up to you. After all, you’re a first-rate warrior
among the Kingdom’s soldiers. I feel more motivated when I train with you.”
This was high praise, but Climb could only take it as standard courtesy.
It was not that Climb was very strong, but that the standards by which he was
judged were too low. The average Royal Army soldier was little better than the
average man, and far weaker than the Imperial Army’s professional Knights.
Virtually none of them were famed for their martial skill throughout the
surrounding nations like Gazef was. While Gazef’s direct subordinates were
excellent soldiers, they were still a notch beneath Climb.
Among the adventurers’ rankings of copper, iron, silver, gold, platinum,
mythril, orichalcum, and adamantite, Climb himself would be gold-ranked at
best. He was not weak, but there were many others who were stronger than
himself.
Could a bit player like himself really motivate Gazef — who was adamantite-
ranked in adventurer terms?
Climb chased away those weak-minded thoughts of his.
Having the Kingdom’s strongest man train with him was a rare opportunity.
He would not regret it, even if Gazef ended up disappointed by the end of their
session.
 “Then, I pray you will exchange a few blows with me.”
Gazef smiled thinly, and bowed.
The two of them went for the weapons cabinet and picked out weapons suited
for themselves. Gazef selected a bastard sword, while Climb selected a small
shield and a broadsword.
After that, Climb removed the metal slabs from his pockets. It would be
terribly disrespectful to wear them while fighting someone stronger than
himself. In addition, he had to give this battle his all, otherwise he would not be
able to grow.
His foe was the mightiest warrior in the Kingdom. He had to focus all his
energies and experience the power of mighty wall before him with all his
strength.
After Climb was ready, Gazef asked:
“Are your arms alright? Are they still stiff?”
“Yes, they’re fine. They’re still a little hot, but it doesn’t affect my grip or
anything.”
Climb waved his arms. Gazef saw his movements and nodded, knowing that
he was not lying.
“Is that so… though in a sense, it’s a bit of a shame. In actual combat, it’s very
rare that one will be able to fight in tip-top condition. If your grip is affected,
you’ll need to think of a way to fight that compensates for it. Have you learned
anything like that?”
“No, no, I haven’t. Would you like me to swing again—”
“Ah, no, there’s no need to go that far. I’m just saying, you’ll need to protect
Her Highness at all times. You should practice fighting styles which can be used
when you’re attacked where swords can’t be borne, or perhaps practice using
various forms of weapons in battle. It won’t hurt.”
“Yes!”
“…Swords, shields, spears, axes, daggers, gauntlets, bows, clubs and thrown
weapons. The use of these weapons is known as the Nine Arts, and they are the
foundation of all armed combat… however, if you try and learn too much, you’ll
end up spreading yourself too thin. I’d suggest picking two or three and training
with them. Alright, I’ve babbled enough.”
“Please don’t say that, Stronoff-sama. Thank you for the lecture!”
Gazef grinned, and waved away Climb’s thanks.
“Then, let’s start once you’re ready. Start by giving me your best shot in your
current condition. After that, depending on the time… Well, I might not be able
to put you through your paces, but I’ll find a chance to explain the Nine Arts and
the secrets of fighting with other weapons.”
“Yes. I pray you will teach me unreservedly.”
“Very well. However, I’m not treating this as practice. Come at me like this
was a real battle.”
Climb slowly brought his sword down to a low stance, leaning his body so his
left side faced Gazef from behind his shield. The look in Climb’s eyes was razor-
keen, indicating that he no longer treated this as a training bout. Similarly,
Gazef’s stance spoke of battle-readiness.
The two of them locked eyes, but Climb could not bring himself to make the
first move.
It was much easier to move now that he had removed the metal slabs, but still,
he did not think he could beat Gazef. The other man was far superior to him in
terms of physical ability and experience.
Stepping carelessly into his reach would only invite a counterattack. Gazef
was a better warrior than he was, so perhaps it could not be helped. However, if
this were a real battle, did that mean he should simply throw his life away
because “it could not be helped”?
If not, then what should he do?
The answer was: he had to attack the weaknesses in Gazef’s stance.
Climb was his inferior in physical parameters, experience and spirit; all the
qualities a warrior required. If there was any way to address this disparity, it
would be through their respective armament.
Gazef used a bastard sword. In comparison, Climb was using a broadsword
and a small shield. Perhaps if his equipment was enchanted, he might be able to
compensate, but these were practice arms, so their weapons were fundamentally
the same.
However, Gazef only had one weapon, while Climb had two — after all, a
shield could be used as a weapon. It was weaker, but it gave him more options.
—He would deflect a blow with his shield and then strike with his sword.
Either that, or use his sword to make an opening and then bash with his shield.
Climb decided on his strategy, which was to take advantage of opportunities
to riposte. Then, he carefully studied Gazef’s movements.
After several seconds. Gazef chuckled.
“Not coming? Then, maybe I should go to you — are you ready?”
 Gazef raised his sword in a casual manner. He lowered his stance, gathering
strength like a coiling spring. Climb too began suffusing his body with might,
ready to deflect any attack which might come.
Then, Gazef stepped forward, swinging his sword at the shield.
—So fast!
Climb immediately abandoned the idea of deflecting that blow. He turned all
his energies to defense, in order to endure that hit.
And in the next moment — a startling impact exploded on his shield.
So mighty was the blow that Climb wondered if the shield had splintered. It
had been so strong that Climb’s shield hand had gone numb. There was no way
to avoid it without using his body’s entire strength.
To think I actually wanted to deflect it! What kind of timing would you need to
exploit a weakness in that technique? At the very least, I need to endure that blow!
Climb grunted at his naivete, and then another impact blossomed on his gut.
“Guwaargh!”
Climb’s body flew through the air. His back thumped heavily on the stone
floor, knocking the wind out of him. When he looked at Gazef, he immediately
realized what had happened to him.
Gazef was retracting the leg which had sent Climb flying with a vicious kick.
“…You focused on my hands because I was only holding a sword. That’s not
good. You might end up taking a kick like just now. While I aimed for your belly
just now, I should have been aiming for somewhere with thinner protection, like
trying to break the kneecaps or something. Also… even with a cup, being kicked
in the groin with a metal boot might break something if you’re unlucky, no? You
need to keep an eye on your opponent’s entire body and study his every move.”
“…Yes.”
Climb slowly rose to his feet, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain
coming from his belly.
Gazef was the Kingdom’s mightiest warrior, and his physical strength
matched his reputation. If Gazef had been serious, he could have easily broken
Climb’s ribs through his chain shirt or otherwise left him unable to fight. The
fact that Climb had not suffered such a fate was probably because Gazef had not
been fighting in earnest. Instead, he had merely picked out a target with his foot
and then applied a bit of force, so all he had done was send Climb flying.
So it was training after all… thank you very much.
As he savored the taste of being personally tutored by the greatest warrior in
the Kingdom, Climb raised his sword again, his heart brimming with gratitude.
This was a priceless period of time. He had to be careful not to let it run out
too soon.
Climb covered himself up with his shield again. He inched towards Gazef, who
studied Climb in silence. If this kept up, he would only be making the same old
mistakes again. As Climb closed in, he was forced to reconsider his tactics.
Gazef placidly awaited his oncoming foe, a look of fearsome calm on his face.
It would seem Climb could not force Gazef to use the full measure of his
abilities.
However, agonizing over that fact would be a form of arrogance.
Climb was nearing his limit. Though he woke early to practice every day, his
rate of growth was slower than an old cow ambling down the road. He had made
far too little progress ever since he had started learning the sword. While he
might be able to improve his speed and strength by training his body, he might
not be able to master special abilities like martial arts and the like.
It would be terribly rude for someone like Climb to grumble about not being
able to force a gifted individual to use his true abilities. Rather, he should blame
his own lack of talent for not being able to make his opponent go all-out.
In all likelihood, when Gazef told him to treat this as a real battle instead of
simple training, he was telling Climb to “fight like you want to take my life,
otherwise you are not worthy to be my opponent.”
Climb gnashed his teeth quietly.
He despised his weakness. If only he were stronger, he could be more useful.
He could become the Princess’ sword and directly confront the villains plaguing
the Kingdom’s people.
He felt guilty that the Princess’ sole sword was so weak that it had to be
gingerly wielded.
However, Climb immediately shook off his guilt. He should not be wallowing
in self-pity right now, but using all his might to contend with the powerful foe
before him, in the hopes of growing, if only a little.
There was only one thought within his heart.
That was to lend his strength to the Princess.

●
 “Hoh,” Gazef exhaled, and the expression on his face changed somewhat.
That was because the young man before him had a different look on his own
face. Until just now, he looked like a starstruck lad, eager and nervous. But with
a simple kick, that annoying mood was gone, and now he looked like a proper
warrior.
Gazef raised his alertness level by a notch.
Gazef thought better of Climb than the lad himself did. What he appreciated
most was Climb’s hunger for strength, as well as loyalty which bordered on
zealotry. Next was his sword skills.
Climb had not learned from a master, but observed others and cobbled his
insights into a self-taught style. His technique was not elegant and had a lot of
wasteful movements. However, it was different from styles learned through rote
lessons. He carefully considered every stroke he made, forming a style that was
ideal for practical combat, or to put it more bluntly, for murder.
Gazef felt that this was a good thing.
Swords were ultimately murder weapons. Sword skills learned as a form of
recreation were not useful on the field of battle. Their users would not be able
to defend those they wanted to protect, and they could not save those they
wanted to rescue. The only thing they could do was wait to be hacked down by
the enemy.
However, Climb was different. Gazef was sure that he could slay his foes and
safeguard the people who were important to him.
Yet—
“You’ve changed your attitude, but I’m still far superior to you. What will you
do now?”
Frankly speaking, Climb had no talent. However hard he worked, however
hard he trained his body, he would never be able to reach the zenith of
swordsmanship without talent. He was as dust compared to people like Gazef or
Brain Unglaus.
Climb’s desire to become stronger than anyone else was nothing more than a
dream or fantasy.
Even so, why did Gazef wish to help train Climb? Would it not be more
beneficial to spend his time on someone better?
The answer was simple enough; Gazef could not overlook Climb’s unwavering
diligence, however useless it was. If every man had their own personal limits,
then one could say that Gazef pitied the fact that Climb hurled himself bodily
against the wall of his own limits.
Therefore, he wanted to teach Climb something else.
He felt that there was a limit to one’s abilities, but not limit to one’s
experience.
In addition, there was one more reason. He felt a deep-seated pity for the
tragic state of his greatest rival.
So I’m using him as a substitute, huh… I’m doing Climb a disservice… but I doubt
sparring with me will do him any harm.
“—Come at me, Climb.”
He received a strident answer to his self-directed mumbling.
“Yes!”

As he answered, Climb planted his foot firmly on the ground and soared
forward.
Unlike just now, Gazef’s expression was stern as he raised his sword into a
high stance.
He would hack down from above.
If Climb blocked with his shield, he would be stopped in his tracks. If he
blocked it with his sword, his weapon would be knocked away. That attack
essentially made his defense meaningless. Blocking it was a poor move, but
Climb was using a broadsword, compared to Gazef’s bastard sword.
All he could do was rush into Gazef’s reach. Gazef knew this and squared
himself to meet the charge.
It was like running into a tiger’s maw — but Climb only hesitated for a
moment.
He plunged into the attack range of Gazef’s sword.
Gazef was waiting for him, and when he swung down, Climb blocked it with
his shield. The awesome impact was greater than the one he had felt just now.
Climb grimaced as pain worked its way down his arm.
“What a shame. To think history would repeat itself.”
There was some disappointment on Gazef’s face as he aimed his foot at
Climb’s belly, and then—
“[Fortress]!”
 —The look on Gazef’s face changed to one of shock as he heard Climb shout.
The martial art [Fortress] did not require a shield or sword to be used. If
desired, one could activate it with one’s armor or even bare hands. Of course,
most people would use it when blocking with one’s weapon or shield because
the timing had to be exact. When using it with armor, a miscalculation would
result in one being left defenseless before the foes. Therefore, most people
would rather use it with a shield or weapon. It was common sense.
However, Climb knew that Gazef would go for a kick, so he did not have to
worry about that.
“Were you aiming for this?!”
“Yes, sir!”
The force of Gazef’s kick seemed to fade away, as though absorbed by
something soft. Gazef could not put any strength into his extended leg and thus
he was forced to regain his uneven footing. Seeing how he was off balance, Climb
swung down on him.
“[Slash]!”
He brought his sword up after initiating the maneuver, and then swung it
down in an overhand chop.
You need to develop a technique that you can deploy with confidence.
After heeding the advice of a certain warrior, the untalented Climb had
worked body and soul to produce this move, a strike that came from above.
Climb’s body was not sheathed in muscles. He had been born with an average
physique, and building muscle was difficult. Neither was he gifted with dexterity,
allowing him to move as he willed even with a musclebound body.
Because of that, he had honed a specialized muscle structure in himself after
nigh-endless training.
The fruit of that was this downwards stroke. It was a high-speed slashing
attack that had been refined to extraordinary levels, a flash of steel followed by
a mighty wind.
That strike bore down on Gazef’s head.
It would be fatal if it connected, but Climb was not thinking about that. His
trust in Gazef was absolute. He had only used this move because he was certain
that the mighty Gazef would not be done in by an attack of that level.
There was a crisp ringing of metal, and the broadsword collided with the
raised bastard sword.
All this was still within his expectations.
 Climb focused the full extent of his strength in an attempt to throw Gazef off
balance.
However, Gazef remained as motionless as a mountain.
It was difficult to maintain one’s balance on one foot, yet Gazef had easily
blocked that strike made with Climb’s full strength. It was as though he were
rooted into the very earth itself.
Climb had struck his mightiest blow with all the strength he could muster.
Yet even the combination of these two factors could not shake Gazef standing
on one foot. This fact shocked Climb to the core, and his eyes went to his belly.
He had to close in to strike with his broadsword. That meant Gazef might be
able to kick his gut once more.
As Climb leapt away, said kick struck Climb’s body.
There was a faint, throbbing pain. After that, both of them staggered several
paces apart.
Gazef lowered his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
It was a smile, but not one that caused displeasure. It clearly displayed his
good humor. Climb was a little uncomfortable in the face of that smile, which
was like a father watching his son grow.
“Very well done. Therefore, I shall get a little serious now.”
Gazef’s face changed.
A thrill of terror ran through Climb’s body. That was because his instincts told
him that the Kingdom’s strongest fighter now stood before him.
“Actually, I’ve got a potion with me. It should be able to mend broken bones,
so don’t worry.”
“…Thank you very much.”
Climb’s heart lurched as he heard his opponent imply that he would be taking
a fracture. While he was used to being hurt, it did not mean that he enjoyed it.
Gazef took a step forward, twice as fast as Climb stepping in.
The tip of the bastard sword pointed to the ground, tracing a low path that
came at Climb’s legs. The sheer speed of the attack panicked Climb, and he
planted his sword on the ground, preparing to protect his legs.
There was a fierce clash. Just as Climb realized it, Gazef’s sword bounced up.
The bastard sword traveled along the body of the broadsword in an upwards
slash.
“Oog!”
Climb threw his face — and the rest of his body — backward, and the bastard
sword zipped past his body. Several strands of severed hair fell in the wake of
the swing.
Filled with fear at how Gazef had overwhelmed him in an instant, Climb cast
his eyes toward the tip of the sword. Then, to his horror, he saw the bastard
sword suddenly halt, and then turn.
His body was moving before his mind could think.
As though driven by a basic survival instinct, he stuck out his small shield,
which collided with the bastard sword and produced a ringing sound of metal.
And then —
“—Ah!”
There was a surge of pain, and then Climb was sent flying across the room. He
struck the ground rolling, and the impact jarred his sword loose from his grip.
It would seem the bastard sword had immediately changed direction into a
horizontal sweep after bouncing off the shield, and it had savagely struck
Climb’s side, which he had left exposed.
“Flow from move to move. Do not think of attack and defense as separate
things. Every movement must be made in order to launch the next attack. Think
of your defense as a way of setting up an attack.”
Climb picked up his fallen sword and grabbed at his waist as he struggled to
his feet.
“I didn’t use too much force to spare you a fracture, so you should be able to
fight, right? How do you feel?”
Climb’s breathing was ragged from tension and pain, in contrast to Gazef’s
even, regular breaths.
He was only wasting Gazef’s time if he could not even take a few hits. That
said, Climb still wanted to become as strong as possible.
He nodded to Gazef, and raised his sword.
“Alright. Then let’s continue.”
“Yes!”
With that hoarse cry, Climb broke into a run.
He was struck, he was knocked back, he was even bodily beaten. Climb
crumpled to the stone floor over and over again. The cool slabs drained the heat
from his body through his clothes and chain shirt, and it felt very comfortable.
“Huuu… huu… huu…”
He did not wipe his sweat away. More precisely, he lacked the strength to do
so.
 As pain flooded into his mind from all over his body, his whole body was
gripped in a sudden surge of fatigue, and his eyes closed lightly.
“You did well. I tried to avoid breaking or splintering your bones while
swinging. How do you feel?”
“……”
Still on the ground, Climb moved his hands to feel up the places which hurt.
Then he opened his eyes.
“No problems here. It hurts, but those are just bumps and bruises.”
The waves of pain were quite light. They would not affect his duties of
protecting the Princess.
“Is that so… then we won’t need to use the potion.”
“Mm. Besides, using it carelessly will remove the effects of muscle training.”
“Well, it’s meant to provide rapid healing, but the effect of the magic also
reverts the muscle to its original state. Just as well. You’ll be going to bodyguard
the Princess after this, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Take it, then. Just in case. Use it if anything comes up.”
The medicine bottle clinked as Gazef set it down by Climb’s side.
“Thank you very much.”
He sat up, looking at Gazef. He looked upon the man whose swordplay he
could not hope to match.
The unscathed man found it strange, and asked:
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing… I just thought you’re really amazing.”
Gazef’s forehead was devoid of sweat. His breathing was calm and regular.
Was this the difference between Climb, sprawled on the ground, and the
strongest man in the Kingdom?
Climb sighed, but he was satisfied with this outcome.
Gazef, on the other hand, seemed to be grinning.
“…Really now. Well…”
“Why—”
“—If you want to ask why I’m so strong, I can’t rightfully give you an answer.
Basically, I was talented. Incidentally, I learned how to fight as a mercenary. The
nobles call my habit of kicking people crude, but I learned it during that time
too. There was no secret to becoming strong,” Gazef concluded. Climb had
thought that repeating the same practice over and over would eventually make
him a little stronger, but that had been rejected in an instant.
“In that sense, you’re quite suited for my style of fighting with fists and feet,
Climb.”
“Is… that so?”
“Oh yes. You haven’t been trained as a swordsman or a soldier, but that has
its good points too. Once one picks up a sword, it’s only natural to focus on using
it… but I don’t think that’s a good thing. I feel that the sword should only be an
attack method, alongside punching and kicking and so on. That’s a practical
fighting style; or a dirty… an adventurer’s fighting style.”
Climb’s face was no longer its usual blank slate. There was a smile there now.
To think the mightiest man in the Kingdom would actually praise his haphazard,
slapdash sword skills!
He was delighted that his swordsmanship — which the aristocrats scorned —
had received such accolades.
“Alright, we’ll stop training here. I should go. I need to meet the king in time
to for his breakfast. Don’t you need to hurry to the Princess’ side?”
“No, because the Princess has a guest today.”
“A guest? Which noble is that?”
To think that Princess would have a caller. Gazef was quite surprised, and
then Climb answered:
“Yes, Aindra-sama.”
“Aindra? Oh! …Which Aindra is it? From Blue… or is it Red?”
“That would be Aindra-sama of Blue Rose.”
Gazef sighed in visible relief.
“I see… so that was it… so if a friend’s come, that means…”
Gazef had guessed that Renner had barred Climb from her side because she
had a friend over, but the truth was that Climb had gently refused the invitation.
While he and the Princess had a relationship where they did not need to
quibble about trivialities, even Gazef would frown in disapproval if he learned
that Climb had refused the invitation of a member of the Royal Household.
Therefore, he did not state the truth, but let Gazef draw his own conclusions.
Climb had met Aindra through Renner, and Aindra thought well of him. Surely
she would not reject Climb like the other nobles if he were to join them at a
dinner party.
However, Climb had considered that his mistress (Renner) had almost no
friends of the same sex, and he felt that if he, as a man, were not around, the two
ladies would be able to speak about personal things they could not normally
utter.
“Thank you very much for today, Gazef-sama.”
“Please, don’t stand on ceremony. I had a good time too.”
“…If it pleases you, could I ask for your guidance again, like today?”
Gazef could not answer for a moment. Climb saw his reaction and began to
apologize, but Gazef spoke first.
“That’s fine. As long as there’s nobody else around, of course.”
Climb keenly understood Gazef’s reluctance, and so he did not say much. He
forced his sore aching body to his feet and spoke his heartfelt feelings.
“Thank you very much!”
Gazef waved back grandly, and strode forth.
“Then please tidy up here. It would be terrible if I could not meet the King for
his morning meal… oh yes, that downward slash of yours was pretty good.
However, you need to think about what comes after that. Consider what you’d
do if your strike was dodged or blocked.”
“Yes!”
 4

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 06:22

After bidding farewell to Gazef, Climb wiped off his sweat with a damp towel
and headed to a place that was drastically different from the training hall of just
now.
This room was around the same size as the training hall in question. It was
filled with many long tables and benches, packed with people chatting happily
away. A delicious fragrance filled the warm air of the room.
This was the dining hall.
After entering the room, Climb passed through the hubbub of humanity and
joined the back of the line.
Much like the people in front of him, Climb had several stacked containers in
front of him. There was a tray, a wooden dish, a wooden spoon, and finally a
wooden cup.
He collected his meal in the appropriate order.
One slightly larger-than-usual steamed potato with brown bread, a thick
white stew laden with ingredients, pickled cabbage, and a sausage. To Climb, this
was a sumptuous meal.
The dishes smelled fragrant on his tray. Climb looked around the dining hall
as the smell prickled at his gut.
The noisy soldiers were currently eating. They sat with their friends and as
they ate, they talked about what they would do on their next leave, the food,
their families, and other light topics. This was standard fare.
Climb spotted an empty seat and wound through the din as he headed for it.
 He stepped over the bench and took a seat. There were soldiers on either side
of him, chatting heartily with their friends. As Climb sat down, they turned to
look at him, but then they immediately lost interest and turned their eyes
elsewhere.
It was as though Climb sat in the eye of the storm.
An onlooker might think this was quite creepy.
Though there was cheery conversation all around him, nobody sought out
Climb to speak to him. While it was true that nobody would chat up a stranger,
they were all soldiers, serving in the same location, and they might need to
depend on each other in times of mortal danger. From that point of view, their
attitude was quite strange.
It was as though Climb did not exist to them.
On his part, Climb did not plan to speak to anyone else, because he clearly
understood his position.
The guards in Ro-Lente Keep were not mere soldiers.
Soldiers in the Royal Army included conscripts armed and outfitted by the
lords of various domains, mercenaries hired by the cities, guards tasked with
patrolling the cities, and so on. However, the one thing they had in common was
that they were all of low birth.
Of course, allowing commoners of uncertain provenance to approach the
Royal Household and the Palace, with its many secrets, would cause a lot of
problems.
Therefore, the guards of Ro-Lente Keep had to be recommended by a noble.
If the guards caused any problems, their sponsoring noble would bear the blame
for them. Therefore, all the candidates were pure and upstanding citizens.
However, this practice led to a certain phenomenon.
That was “factionalization.”
All the sponsoring nobles belonged to one faction or another. The troops they
recommended would naturally join their masters’ factions. Since anybody who
opposed the nobles had no chance of being picked at all, it was hardly a leap to
say that all the soldiers here were affiliated with one faction or another.
It sounded purely disadvantageous, but it had a benefit in that the soldiers
constantly honed their skills lest they be drawn into a factional conflict. While
they were still nowhere near the level of the Imperial Knights, the Keep’s guards
had some measure of skill.
Of course, Climb was much more skilled than them, but the nobles had
managed to find fault even with that. After all, he was stronger than the troops
which the nobles themselves had put forward.
While it was true that the sponsoring nobles might not belong to a faction,
under the current circumstances, the Kingdom was split into the Noble and the
Royal Faction. Under these circumstances, there was only one noble who could
flit between both sides like a bat.
There was a similar individual among the serried ranks of hand-picked troops.
That individual was Climb.
Climb was in a very awkward position.
Originally, someone like Climb could not possibly hope to stand by Renner’s
side. As one of common birth, he would never be entrusted with the weighty task
of defending royalty. It had always been that only nobles could protect the Royal
Household.
However, there were exceptions, in the form of Gazef Stronoff — the
Kingdom’s strongest soldier — and the elite troops under his command. And
then, almost nobody could publicly object to Princess Renner’s fervent wish.
Perhaps a member of the Royal Household could gainsay her, but since the King,
the highest authority in the land, had given his approval, nobody else could
object to it.
Climb had a personal room due to this awkward position of his.
Renner’s word had given him a room of his own. But at the same time, it
separated him from the others. After all, Climb was not affiliated with any
faction and was uncomfortable in either camp, so he was like a hot potato.
Given Climb’s situation and background, he should have been a member of
the Royal Faction. However, the Royal Faction were a group of nobles who had
sworn their loyalty to the King, and they did not welcome Climb, whose origins
were unknown.
In the end, Climb had become a very prickly being to take into their fold.
Instead, they chose to leave him alone and wait for him to volunteer to help of
his own accord. On the other hand, the Noble faction felt that drawing Climb in
would have benefits, but it would also be like letting a wolf into their own homes.
However, the factions were made of many nobles, and not all of them were of
one mind. The factions were ultimately organizations formed for profit. That
being, the case while some members of the Royal Faction gave him the stink-eye
— because he was a mere commoner who had been allowed to be the closest
person to the Golden Princess — others also wanted Climb on their side.
 In any case, nobody had been careless enough to risk splintering their faction
for Climb.
In conclusion, both of them considered Climb an asset that neither of them
wanted, but which neither of them wanted to surrender to their rivals.
That was why nobody spoke to him, and he was left to eat by himself.
He did not talk to anyone either, and he paid their business no heed. He simply
ate, and finished his breakfast within 10 minutes.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Sated, he mumbled to himself — a practice picked up from long hours of
solitude. Just as he was about to stand up, he bumped into a passing soldier.
Climb’s face was impassive as an elbow struck the place where he had been
hurt while sparring with Gazef, but he froze from the pain.
The soldier who had hit him said nothing, just carried on. The soldiers around
him kept silent too. Several people furrowed their brows as they saw this, but
nobody said anything.
Climb sighed deeply, and headed out with his bowl and plate.
This much was par for the course. He was simply glad that there was no hot
stew in the bowl at that time.
Nearly being tripped by an extended foot. People running into him under the
pretense of an accident. He was used to these things. However —
—So what?
Climb continued forward. They could not do anything more to him — not in
a public place like the dining hall.
Climb kept his chin up throughout. His eyes were fixed forward and he would
not waver.
If he showed any sign of unseemly behavior, it would cause problems for his
mistress Renner. After all, every move Climb made reflected directly on the
reputation of Renner — the woman to whom he owed his loyalty.
Chapter 2 Blue Roses
 Chapter 2 | Blue Roses

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 08:02

Dressed in his white full plate armor, his sword by his side, a fully equipped
Climb stepped into the Valencia Palace.
The Valencia Palace was roughly divided into three wings, and he had just
entered one of them. This was the largest of the three, where the Royal Family
resided.
Unlike Climb’s dwelling place earlier, the Palace was very well-lit, collecting
light from the outside in a brilliant display that seemed to make the interior
sparkle.
The polished hallways were free of litter; practically spotless, in fact. The
reason why Climb’s full plate armor made no sound as he walked upon it was
because it had mythril and orichalcum in its construction, and it was additionally
enchanted on top of that.
Along the clean and spacious hallways were the elite soldiers assigned to
guard duty in the palace. They stood resplendent in their full plate armor — they
were knights.
The Knights of the Empire were commoners recruited and trained into
professional soldiers. In contrast, the Kingdom’s knights were usually third sons
of landed nobles or others who could not otherwise inherit the family estate.
However, the Crown paid them very highly, and so only first-rate swordsmen
were accepted for membership. Not even nobles could sneak in through
backdoor connections.
The best way to describe them would be “the King’s personal guard.”
Incidentally, Gazef’s position as Warrior-Captain was because many people
opposed his knighthood, and so the King created a new appointment for him.
Since then, the group of elite soldiers that he had picked and trained personally
were known as Warriors.
Climb nodded slightly to them. Almost all of them returned the gesture. Only
a few of them did so reluctantly; the vast majority were sincere in their courtesy.
They might be nobles, but they were also men of martial spirit who were sworn
to the King. Excellent warriors who devoted their lives to their King were worthy
of their respect.
In contrast, Climb passed another group of people in the hallway who viewed
him with open hostility.
They were the maids. Almost all of them frowned whenever they saw Climb.
Unlike regular maids, the maidservants of the Royal Palace were all
noblewomen who had come here to raise their own standing. Thus, to some
extent, they were of higher status than Climb. In particular, the maids who
personally served the Royal Family were heiresses of high-ranking nobility. They
plainly displayed their anger at having to bow and scrape before a man who was
beneath a mere peasant.
It was true that Climb was lower-born than they were, so it was not hard to
see why they would give him the stink-eye when Renner was not looking. Climb
understood this, and he had never once gotten angry at them for that.
However, that mindset, combined with Climb’s own blank expression, made
the maids think he was snubbing them and it only deepened their anger for him.
Meanwhile, Climb paid that vicious cycle no heed. Or rather, it might be better
to say that if he was really that careful, he ought to be able to tie off those loose
ends in a better way.
Even so, Climb felt mentally fatigued after walking through this palace.
There were other members of the Royal Family in the Palace besides Renner
and Ramposa III.
—Ggh?!
As Climb saw one of those royals approach, he immediately went to the wall,
his back ramrod straight, and pressed his hand to his chest in a salute.
Two people approached him. The one behind was a tall, skinny man, with a
head of slicked-back blond hair.
His name was Marquis Raeven, one of the Kingdom’s Six Great Nobles.
The problem was the slightly plump man walking in front of him. His name
was Zanac Valleon Igana Ryle Vaiself. He was the King’s second son, and second
in line for the throne.
Zanac stopped, and his fatty-jowled face contorted.
“Oh, if it isn’t Climb. Are you going to see that monster?”
There was only one person whom Prince Zanac referred to a monster. Climb
knew that what he was about to do might well give offense to a social superior,
but he simply could not let it slide.
“Your Highness. Forgive my impertinence, but Lady Renner is no monster. A
gentle, compassionate and beautiful person like herself is more like the
Kingdom’s treasure.”
She had solved the slave problem and proposed policies which put the
common man first. If she did not qualify as a treasure, then what did? Granted,
the nobles frequently obstructed her legislation and prevented most of her
policies from being implemented, but Climb still knew how much she thought
of the people.
This gentle woman wept before Climb whenever her populist policies were
denied. What right did a useless man (Zanac) have to lecture her?
Anger flared up within Climb’s heart, and he longed to give Zanac a good
punch.
They might only be half-related by blood, but they were still of the same
bloodline, and he should not be saying such things. However, Climb did not
allow his anger to take physical form.
Renner had once said, “My brother wants to provoke you into slandering him.
I’m sure he’s trying to find an excuse to take you away from me. Climb, you must
not show any weakness to my brother.”
Climb thought back to the day when he had solemnly sworn that he would
never betray that forlorn look on his master’s face, she who had been abandoned
even by her family.
 “I never said Renner was a monster. That’s just what you’re thinking… forget
it, enough with the cliched excuses. Still, to think you’d actually consider her a
treasure. When she makes her proposals, does she actually think they’d be
accepted? I can’t help but think that she suggests them even when she knows
they’ll be rejected anyway.”
How could that be? It was impossible. This man was simply guessing wildly in
his hideous jealousy.
“Your servant submits that such is not the case here.”
“Huhuhuhu… So you don’t consider that woman a monster. I don’t know if
you have terrible taste or if her acting’s too good… I’d suggest you doubt her a
little more.”
“How could I doubt her? Renner-sama is a treasure of the Kingdom. Of that I
have no doubt.”
Everything she did was righteous. Climb could come to that conclusion
because he had been watching from beside her.
“Really now, is that so? How interesting. Then, could you send that monster
a message? …Tell her that ‘while I, as her elder brother, consider you as a political
tool, if you’re willing to help me, I can relieve you of your inheritance and grant
you a domain on the borderlands.’”
Frustration surged up in Climb’s heart.
“…Surely you jest. I can hardly believe you would actually tell me that in a
place like this, so I shall pretend that I never heard it.”
“Huhuhuhu. What a shame. Let’s go, Marquis Raeven.”
The silent man nodded from where he had been watching Climb and Zanac
from the side.
Climb did not quite understand Marquis Raeven. He seemed to have drawn a
clear line between himself and Climb, but he did not look at Climb the same way
the other nobles did. Renner had not given Climb any special instructions about
Raeven either.
“Ah, yes. Marquis Raeven agrees with me that that woman is a monster. No,
it is more that we have the same vision, hence our alliance.”
“—My Prince.”
“Let me say it, Marquis Raeven. Heed my words, Climb. If you were blindly
devoted to her, I wouldn’t be telling you all this. However… I feel that you’ve
been deceived by that monster. That’s why I’m telling you, in good faith, about
her monstrous nature.”
 “My Prince, forgive my rudeness, but could you tell me in what way is Renner-
sama a monster? Nobody cares more for the country and the people than she
does.”
“…That’s because everything she does is a waste of effort. She moves too much
for too little gain. At first, I thought she was simply inept at dealing with others.
Then, while discussing the matter with Marquis Raeven, I realized that she
might already have accounted for that. Once I realized that, everything fell into
place. If that was really the case, then she would be a woman who, while locked
up the palace, could manipulate the nobles as she desired. What is that, if not a
monster?”
“Certainly you must be mistaken. Renner-sama is not that kind of person,”
Climb insisted.
Her tears were most definitely genuine. Renner was a compassionate woman.
Climb knew this better than anyone else, given that she had picked him up.
However, Climb’s words could not move the Prince. He smiled bitterly, and
then left Climb. Marquis Raeven followed behind him.
Climb muttered to himself in the now-deserted corridor.
“Renner-sama is the kindest person in our country. My existence is proof of
that. If…”
Climb swallowed the following words, but spoke them in his heart.
If Renner-sama were to rule the Kingdom, it would surely become a great nation
that puts the people first.
Of course, that was an impossible dream given the reality of the succession.
Even so, Climb could not abandon that idea.

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 08:11

Shortly after that, Climb arrived at his most frequently visited room in the
palace.
After checking several times to make sure nobody was around, he reached out
and turned the doorknob.
Entering without knocking was an exceedingly impolite course of action.
However, the owner of this room had asked him to do so. His mistress had
refused to listen to his protests, no matter what he said.
 In the end, Climb had given in. There was no way he could win when women’s
tears flowed. Still, his mistress had permitted him several exceptions to that.
For instance, there was no way he could barge in unannounced if the King was
present.
That said, entering without knocking was very stressful on Climb. People who
do that ought to be punished. It was only natural for him to feel stressed out when
he thought about that as he opened the door.
Just as Climb was about to push it open, he heard the sounds of a heated
discussion through the half-opened door.
There were two voices, both female.
One of them belonged to his mistress. Climb was still standing outside the
door but she had not noticed him. That was probably because she was too
excited about the discussion. That being the case, Climb did not wish to dampen
her ardor. Climb stood still, listening to the discussion within the room. He felt
guilty about eavesdropping, but he would feel worse if he interrupted their
conversation.
“—I told you, didn’t I? People have always focused on immediate gains.”
“Hm…”
“…The crop rotation plan you were talking about, Renner… I have no idea how
that will increase yields… but how long will it take to show results?”
“About six years or so.”
“And how much money will be lost in planting other crops during these six
years?”
“That would depend on the crops in question. However, assuming a normal
yield is 1, I think the yield would go down to 0.8… in other words, it’s a 20% loss
of revenue. However, after the sixth year, the yield will go up by 0.3 forever. I’m
sure the figure will be higher if we add pastures for livestock into the mix.”
“…That does sound quite tempting, but can farmers really take a loss of 20%
of their income for six whole years?”
“…I think we could have the country extend interest-free loans to compensate
for the 20% loss and then ask for repayment after the yields return to normal…
If the yields don’t go up, then it won’t have to be repaid, or there could be some
other way. The important thing is that once the yields go up, the loans can be
paid off in four years.”
“That might be hard.”
“Why is that?”
 “I told you, didn’t I? People prefer to focus on immediate gains, and many
people want stability. A lot of people will hesitate even if you tell them they’ll be
able to get 130% of their original crops in six years.”
“I… don’t get it. It worked really well on the test field…”
“Maybe the experiment went well, but you still can’t guarantee that it’ll
succeed.”
“…Well, it’s true that we didn’t foresee every possible condition while
conducting the experiment, so we can’t be absolutely certain of the results. If
we had to consider soil quality and the weather as well, the experiment would
have become too big…”
“That’s troubling. I don’t know if that 30% increase is a minimum figure or an
average amount. Either way, it’s not very convincing. You need to guarantee
profits, and that they won’t lose out in the short term.”
“How about subsidizing the 20% shortfall for the six-year period?”
“The Noble Faction would love that, because it would weaken the King’s
power.”
“But, if we can guarantee a big return after six years, the Kingdom will grow
stronger too, right?”
“That also means that the opposing Noble Faction will become stronger as
well, while the King’s side will have 20% lower yields. The nobles of the Royal
Faction won’t stand for it.”
“Then how about asking the merchants…”
“Those big traders? They have their own politics among them. If they help the
Royals too readily, it might ruin their relationship with the Nobles.”
“There sure are a lot of problems… Lakyus.”
“…And they all come up because you’re not good at forward planning. Well…
I do understand it’s hard to get a proposal passed when there are two huge blocs
within the country… What about just implementing it under Crown territory?”
“My brothers won’t approve.”
“Ah, you mean those retar… those gentlemen who left their wisdom in their
mothers’ bellies for your sake.”
“…But we don’t have the same mother.”
“Ahhhh, then they left it in the King! Still, it’s pretty bad when even the Royal
Family isn’t united…”
The room fell silent, which told Climb that the discussion was over.
“Ah, you can come in. Can’t he, Renner?”
 “Hm?”
Climb’s heart lurched as he heard those words. He was surprised that she had
sensed his presence, but at the same time, he had been somewhat expecting that.
He slowly opened the door.
“—Pardon me.”
A familiar sight filled Climb’s eyes.
The room was luxurious but not tacky, and there were two blonde-haired
maidens seated at a window side table.
Both of them were beautiful young ladies in complementary dresses.
One was the owner of this room, Renner.
The other one sat opposite her. Her eyes were green and her lips were pink,
and she was in radiant health. While her looks fell short of Renner, she exuded a
charm of her own. If Renner sparkled like a gemstone, then she glowed with
vitality.
Her name was Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra.
It was hard to tell given the sheer pink dress she wore, but this woman was
the leader of one of the two adamantite-ranked adventurer teams in the
Kingdom, and Renner’s closest friend.
She had racked up a considerable tally of accomplishments at the tender age
of 19, and the fact that she had attained the coveted rank of adamantite must be
due to her astounding talent. Climb felt the stirring of jealousy in the depths of
his soul.
“Good morning, Renner-sama, Aindra-sama.”
“Good morning, Climb.”
“Morning.”
After greeting them, Climb made to move to his designated location — behind
and to the right of Renner — but a voice halted him.
“Climb, not there. Here.”
Renner indicated the chair to her right.
Climb found this very strange. There were five chairs arranged around the
circular table. That much was normal. However, three cups of tea had been
poured.
One was in front of Renner, another was before Lakyus, and one more was in
front of the seat beside Lakyus — not the one Renner had indicated. Climb
looked around, but he could not find any trace of the third person.
Climb was surprised, but he looked at the chair anyway.
 Renner’s orders to Climb had caused a great deal of strain for him, be it in a
commoner sharing a table with their master — a member of royalty — or in
barging into a room uninvited.
“But…”
Climb looked pleadingly to the other woman for help. He hoped against all
hope that she would reject the request, but that hope was promptly denied him.
“I don’t mind.”
“Th-this… Aindra-sama…”
“I told you before, didn’t I? Call me Lakyus.”
Lakyus looked to Renner.
“Climb’s special ~♥”
“…Meanie.”
Lakyus appended what sounded like a heart to the end of her sentence in
sickly sweet tones, to which Renner replied with a note of mock complaint and
a smile.
Of course, that was if a curl of the lips which was not matched by her eyes
counted as a smile.
“Aindra-sama, please don’t tease me.”
“Fine fine fine. You really are a stick in the mud, aren’t you, Climb? You should
learn not to get hung up on details like her.”
“Eh? Teasing?”
Faced with Renner’s look of surprise, Lakyus froze in an incredibly fake way
before exhaling with exaggerated intensity.
“Of course. Well, Climb is special, but that’s because he’s yours.”
Renner’s face flushed pink, and she clapped her hands to her cheeks. Climb
had no idea what to do and looked away from Renner, and then his eyes went
wide.
That was because there was someone seated in the shadows in the corner of
the room, hugging their knees to themselves. She was a woman, who wore form-
fitting black clothing that seemed utterly incongruous with the room’s
atmosphere.
“Wha-!”
Shocked, Climb grabbed at the sword at his waist and lowered his stance,
prepared to protect Renner.
Lakyus sighed.
“Now you’ve gone and scared Climb by taking on that stance.”
 There was no caution or awareness of danger in Lakyus’s cool voice. Climb
realized what that meant and let the strength drain from his shoulders.
“Understood, boss.”
The woman seated in the darkness sprang to her feet in an instant.
“Ah, you probably don’t know her, Climb. She’s a member of my team—”
“—It’s Tina-san,” Renner helpfully supplied.
From what Climb knew, the adamantite adventurer team “Blue Rose” was
composed of five women: the leader and divine magic caster Lakyus, the warrior
Gagaran, the arcane magic caster Evileye, and then the rogues Tia and Tina.
Climb had seen the first three before, but not the latter two.
So she must be… I see. Her reputation’s not for show.
Given her long limbs and her tight-fitting clothes, she looked the part of
someone versed in thief-type techniques.
“…Forgive me. Pleased to meet you, my name is Climb.”
Climb bowed deeply to Tina.
“Huh? Don’t worry about it.
She waved casually to Climb, and then she silently stalked towards the table
with the fluid grace of a savage beast. Then, she took a seat on the chair beside
Lakyus. It would seem the tea from just now was hers.
Climb carefully surveyed his surroundings to check for another unseen
female. There were only three cups of tea on the table, so it seemed unlikely, but
he did so anyway.
Lakyus sensed the reason behind Climb’s gawking and said:
“Tia’s not here. Gagaran and Evileye both dislike stuffy occasions… but it’s
not that stuffy, is it? I’m wearing a proper dress just in case, but I didn’t insist on
them doing the same.”
Lakyus might have said that, but the fact was that etiquette required one to
wear formal dress in front of a princess. Of course, Climb had no intention of
saying that to the face of Renner’s friend — particularly a lady who was a
member of the peerage.
“I see. Still, it is an honor to make the acquaintance of the famed Tina-sama.
I hope I will have the chance to benefit from your guidance in the future.”
“Talk after you sit down, Climb.”
Saying so, Renner poured a fresh cup of tea. The tea which flowed from the
magic item known as a Warm Bottle was piping hot, as though it had just been
brewed.
 The Warm Bottle could maintain the temperature and composition of its
contents for an hour, and it was one of Renner’s favored magic items. It saw
frequent use when entertaining important guests, though not at other times.
Climb knew that there was no protesting this and resigned himself. Thus, he
sat down and drank his tea.
“It’s delicious, Renner-sama.”
Renner smiled, but in all honesty, Climb could not tell if it was good or not.
Still, since Renner had made it, he automatically deemed it good.
A flat, emotionless voice suddenly spoke out.
“—That girl should be gathering intelligence today. The three of us were
supposed to come here together, but in the end our Oni leader handed out work
at the last minute. It’s all our Oni leader’s fault.”
Needless to say, that voice came from Tina. A frightening smile came over
Lakyus’ face as she heard the words “Oni.” Climb tore his eyes away and said:
“I see… I hope I’ll be able to see her sometime.”
“Climb, Tina-san and Tia-san are twins. Even their hairstyles are almost
identical.”
“So once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen the other.”
Climb did not think the matter was that simple, but he nodded in
understanding.
Still, Tina stared unabashedly at Climb, making him feel uncomfortable. His
original plan was just to bear with it, but then he realized that she might have
noticed something about him, and so he made up his mind to ask her:
“Is something the matter?”
“You’re too big.”
“…Huh?”
He heard, but he did not understand. After seeing the question marks popping
up over Climb’s head, Lakyus cut in and apologized:
“Its nothing; just an inside joke. Don’t take it to heart, okay, Climb? No, don’t
worry about it. Really.”
“Yes…”
“…What’s the matter, Lakyus?”
Climb told himself not to be a busybody, but Renner could not seem to accept
that and interjected. Lakyus had a sour look on her face as she looked at Renner.
“Really, whenever we start talking about Climb…”
“Ah, I—”
 “—Quiet. I didn’t bring Tia along because she’d fill Renner’s head with
nonsense. So could you please understand that and not blabber on so much?”
“Yes, Oni Boss.”
“…Lakyus. What’s all this about?”
Lakyus’ face began to twitch once Renner began asking, and her expression
turned depressed.
She shifted her line of sight to Climb just as he was about to butt in.
“Hm… Climb, it looks like you really favor this suit of armor.”
“Yes. This armor is exquisite. Thank you very much.”
This was about an awkward of a topic change as there could be, but Climb did
not want to embarrass a guest. After going with it, he idly stroked the suit of
snow-white full plate armor which his mistress had gifted him. It had been made
with large quantities of mythril — and some orichalcum — and further
enchanted, making it surprisingly light and tough.
Blue Rose had supplied the mythril for its construction at no charge. Climb
could not thank them enough for that, however low he bowed.
Just as he was about to do so, Lakyus halted him.
“Don’t worry about it. We simply gave you the leftover materials from making
our mythril armor.”
While she called them leftovers, the fact was that mythril was an extremely
expensive material. Perhaps mythril-ranked adventurers might own a mythril
weapon, while orichalcum-ranked adventurers might be able to afford the
construction of a suit of mythril full plate. But only adamantite-ranked
adventurers could give a suit to others at no charge.
“Besides, Renner asked me. How could I refuse?”
“—You refused to take my money. I had some pocket money saved up…”
“…It’s not right for a princess to spend her allowance, don’t you think?”
“That’s separate from my domain’s income. I just wanted to use my own
money to make Climb’s armor.”
“I figured you wanted to use your own money to make a shiny new set of full
plate for Climb—”
“…If you knew, then why did you give it to me for free? Lakyus, you dummy.”
“Given the circumstances, should you really be calling me a dummy…”
Thus did the fuming Renner and the giggling Lakyus go back and forth, in an
argument that hardly qualified as an argument.
As he saw this Climb’s face stiffened into an emotionless mask.
 The fact that he could witness a heartwarming scene like this was all thanks
to being rescued by his mistress. However, he could not allow himself to express
his feelings.
Showing his gratitude was one thing, but behind that gratitude was a powerful
emotion that could never be displayed.
That was his love for her.
Climb forcibly crushed that feeling and hid it away within himself. In its place,
he repeated the lines he had repeated several times now.
“Thank you very much, Renner-sama.”
As she heard the way in which he clearly demarcated the separation between
the two of them — it was a hint that master and servant were in different
circumstances — Renner smiled.
Only Climb — who had observed her longer than anyone else, who had been
watching her every day — could tell that her smile was tinged with loneliness.
“It’s fine. Now, I think we’ve drifted quite a ways off-topic. Let’s get back to
the previous discussion.”
“Eight Fingers, you say? We were talking about how we attacked three of their
drug-producing villages and burned their fields to ash. I doubt they can recover
from that.”
As he heard that name, Climb mentally frowned under his iron mask.
Eight Fingers was the name of the criminal syndicate writhing about in the
darkness of the Kingdom. His beloved mistress had taken action to suppress
them.
It was not hard to imagine the miserable fate of a village which relied on drugs
to survive when their fields had been burned down. However, they were a
necessary sacrifice to eliminate the drugs plaguing the Kingdom.
Perhaps if Renner possessed supreme power, she might be able to do
something else. However, Renner had no backers despite being a princess. All
she could do was perform the cold calculus of saving those who could be saved
and abandoning everyone else.
On the other hand, Renner might have been able to beg a boon of her father
to attack them with authority or military force. However, Eight Fingers were
deeply entwined with the nobles, and if word got out, they might well burn the
evidence of their wrongdoing.
Therefore, Renner had decided to directly employ her friend Lakyus.
Climb knew this was a very risky path to take. Under normal circumstances,
adventurers worked through the Guild and they were not allowed to take
requests directly from clients. That was a violation of the Guild’s rules.
Granted, he did recall that the Guild could not punish its highest-ranked
(adamantite-ranked) adventurers, nor could it expel them. Even so, it would still
tarnish their reputation within the Guild and would surely lead to repercussions
in the future. However, Blue Rose had accepted the task anyway because they
loved their country that much, and because Renner was their friend.
Climb’s gratitude towards Lakyus grew as she realized that she was willing to
make sacrifices for the greater good.
Lakyus decided that they should no longer talk about this anymore. She
opened up the bag Tina presented to her, and took out a scroll.
This was a document which nobody in Blue Rose could decipher. However,
Lakyus felt that the smartest person she knew — Renner — might be able to
make some head or tail of it.
“We found this scroll while burning the drug villages. It looked like some kind
of written order, so we brought it back… can you understand it?”
They opened the scroll, and saw an expanse of symbols. They did not look like
letters from any country’s language. Renner glanced at them, and casually
replied:
“…It’s a substitution cipher, no?”
Substitution ciphers were a form of code made by substituting a letter or
several letters for another letter or symbol. For instance, “a” might become “△”
and “b” might become “□.” Thus, the symbols “△△□□△” would mean “aabba.”
“I thought so too. I tried swapping symbols around for hours, but I couldn’t
make any sense of it. We took a man prisoner who looked like he was in charge
because we suspected that he might have memorized the cipher key, and we
were planning to use charm magic on him to make him decode the message for
us. However… you should know that when the same caster uses the same spell
on the same subject multiple times, you get poorer results. Therefore, I wanted
to make good use of our first casting. So I decided to discuss it with you before
using the spell.”
“I see… and the reason this was left there was because… a trap? Or something
more? If that’s the case, they wouldn’t use a code that was too hard to break.
Hm, I don’t think this will be very difficult.”
Renner’s words left Lakyus’ eyes wide. She could not help but exchange
glances with Tina, who was seated beside her.
 Unbelievable. But at the same time, they thought, “I knew she could do it.”
“Let me think… in the Kingdom’s language, the first word of any document is
either a masculine, feminine or neuter pronoun… give me a moment…”
As she muttered to herself, Renner rose with the scroll and went to fetch
paper and pen.
Then, she began writing out blocks of text on the paper.
“This is a simple substitution cipher of one character for one symbol, so
breaking it is easy. And fortunately, they were using the Kingdom’s language. If
they had used the Empire’s literature or something like that as a cipher, it’d be
almost unbreakable. But this… well, once you know what one of the words
means, you can just fill them in one by one. Anyone could break this if they were
willing to work hard.”
“No no… well, you make it sound easy. But wouldn’t that mean you’d need to
know tens of thousands of words to break the code?”
“Well, these are encoded literary references. Those usually won’t be too
flowery and they can’t use words that are too complex either. So they’d have to
make it simple enough that even a child could understand it. That narrows
things down a lot.”
Inside her heart, Lakyus broke out in a cold sweat.
Her friend made it sound so simple, but it was hardly as simple as she said.
Still, she really ought to be able to do it… I can hardly believe such a genius really
exists.
Renner had brushed it off every time they met or talked, but Lakyus had never
met anyone else like Renner who deserved to be called a genius.
As Lakyus trembled internally, Renner lightly said, saying “It’s done. Just a
bunch of book references,” before handing the paper to her.
There were many locations within the Kingdom written upon it, and seven of
them were within the Royal Capital.
“Are these drug storehouses or other important bases?”
“I doubt they’d put such an important document in an ordinary production
area… this is probably bait, don’t you think?”
“Bait? As in for a trap?”
“Hm… I don’t think so. Think of it this way. Eight Fingers is one organization,
but they’re more like eight separate groups working together, right?”
Lakyus nodded.
“So this should be information about the other seven groups… or should I say
divisions? In any case, this is a way to deliberately leak information on everyone
besides the drugs division to outside enemies, in order to briefly take the heat
off themselves.”
“In other words, they already gathered information on the other divisions for
this… I didn’t expect them to be totally united, but this is just ridiculous…”
As an adventurer, the notion of betraying one’s comrades frustrated her.
“While we were already going to do that, we’d better not act too hastily, or
else it might turn out badly for us.”
After seeing her friend (Renner) nod, Lakyus asked again:
“So what should we do about that brothel? I’ve heard it’s a really vile place
where one can experience anything they desire.”
Lakyus felt her anger build just by mentioning it.
Bastards. Those scum who can only think with their dicks ought to be killed!
When she recalled what she had learned about the brothel in question, she
was no longer a noble heiress, but a bold adventuress, and the curses welled up
from inside her heart. The meaning of the phrase “anything they desire” went
without saying. It was certain that no few people — men and women both — had
been murdered for entertainment.
In the past, when slavery had not yet been criminalized, there were quite a
few such bordellos operating in the underworld. However, thanks to the friend
before her, the slave trade was now illegal, and those establishments had faded
like dust on the wind. This particular location might well be the last illegal
brothel in the Kingdom.
For that reason, they would not shut down easily. One could imagine what
sort of determined resistance awaited them. After all, it was a tainted paradise
for those people with crude, unspeakable desires.
“Say, Renner. Since we can’t deal with them through the law, why not have us
force our way in and expose their crimes? It’ll be okay as long as we find
evidence, right? If the slave-trading division really is running that brothel, then
breaking them will be a huge blow. Plus, depending on where the evidence
points, we’ll be able to teach a painful lesson to the nobles who are in league
with them.”
“You might be right, Lakyus. But if you do that, won’t it inconvenience your
family… the Alvein family? I find it very hard to act because of that. The same
thing goes for the other members of Blue Rose… but having Climb barge in there
alone seems almost impossible…”
 “Your servant deeply regrets his lack of strength.”
As she saw Climb bow in apology, Renner reached out a hand to take Climb’s
own, and smiled.
“Forgive me, Climb. That wasn’t what I meant. It’s the only underworld
brothel in the Royal Capital, so nobody could take it down by themselves. See, I
trust you most of all, Climb. I know how hard you work for me. However, don’t
do anything which might get yourself involved. This isn’t a request, but an order,
okay? If anything happened to you…”
Even Lakyus, as a woman watching from the side, was moved by the tears of
the ravishing beauty before her eyes. Then how about Climb?
He tried his best to put on an emotionless front, but he could not. Those
flushed cheeks said everything for him.
Were a bard to give a title to this moving scene, said bard would surely name
it “The Princess and Her Knight.” Yet, Lakyus felt a twinge of fear. She thought
that it ought to be impossible, but if Renner were doing this on purpose, then
she would be a vixen of truly unimaginable proportions—
What am I thinking? Why am I doubting my good friend? Besides, hasn’t everything
that’s happened up till now proven that she’s not a petty little schemer? If I can’t even
trust someone like her — someone with the title of “Golden,” who crusades for justice
— then who can I trust?
Lakyus shook her head, and spoke. That was also to dispel the frightening
notion in her head.
“Ah, yes. Tina’s investigations have uncovered several leaders in the slave
trades — several nobles with links to Cocco Doll. However, we haven’t verified
their guilt yet, so it’s too early to take action right now.”
Renner and Climb reacted to one particular name among the list Lakyus
recited.
“That man’s daughter is one of my personal maids.”
“Hm? Well, I don’t think she was sent there as a spy because they’re on guard
against you… but still, I can’t be sure that she’s just a maid looking to promote
herself.”
“Indeed. Looks like we’ve policed the information quite well. Climb, you also
have to keep that in mind.”
“Then, let’s discuss what to do about the locations we’ve learned from the
coded orders. Renner, would you mind lending me Climb? I’d like him to tell
Gagaran and the others that they may need to move out for an emergency.”
 2

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 09:49

Climb walked along the main street of the Royal Capital. Climb blended
perfectly into the mass of humanity, given that he had few distinguishing
features about him.
He did not wear his distinctive suit of white armor. While he could use certain
alchemical items to change its color, he was not that attached to it. Besides,
there was no need to go around in full plate armor while walking on the streets.
As a result, he dressed lightly, wearing a chain shirt under his clothes. Only
the longsword at his waist marked him as visibly different from the average
citizen.
He looked like a patrolling soldier — a city guardsman — or a mercenary when
outfitted in that way. Some people would avoid him, but they would not clear
out of his path in the way they would for someone in heavy armor.
Anyone in such a panoply ought to be an adventurer. It was not so much that
they needed the protection as the publicity.
Dressing in an eye-catching way was not a strange thing for adventurers,
because it helped promote themselves. Some of them even favored unique and
provocative fashions to make a strong impression on others. Thus, word would
spread and their reputation would build. In other words, dressing oddly was
something like a trademark of adventurers.
However, there was no need for high-end adventurers — like the members of
Blue Rose, whom Climb was going to visit — to do so. At their level, they would
make conversation just by walking along the street.
 Soon, he saw an adventurer’s inn along the road. Said inn had a stable and a
large yard for sword practice. Its beautiful exterior promised an equally
exquisite interior, and the guest windows were fitted with pieces of clear glass.
This was the Royal Capital’s most expensive inn. It was a gathering place for
adventurers who were confident of their skills and able to pay the onerous bills.
Climb opened the inn’s door, paying no heed to the guards which flanked it.
The drinks bar-cum-dining hall occupied an entire floor, but it was sparsely
populated with adventurers, considering its size. This clearly showed the rarity
of high-paid adventurers.
The clamor within the inn quieted for a moment as several curious gazes were
thrown in Climb’s direction. He did not mind, and looked around the interior.
Most of the people in here were powerful-looking adventurers. Just about
everyone here could defeat Climb with ease. Every visit to this place made Climb
realize how tiny he was.
He resisted the urge to fall into despair, and his eyes focused on a point within
the inn.
In front of him — in the innermost depths of the inn — was a round table. He
looked at the two people seated around it.
One of them was tiny, dressed in a long black robe which covered their entire
body.
Their face could not be seen. It was not because the light was insufficient, but
because they wore a strange, full-face mask set with a bloodstone. There was a
narrow crack running along eye level, but that did not even reveal the color of
the eyes underneath it.
Then, there was the other person.
If the first person was a midget, then this one would be a giant. Seeing this
person brought the word “boulder” to mind. Indeed, that person had a stout and
massive body, but that girth was not born of obesity.
That person’s arms reminded observers of logs, while the neck which held the
head up seemed as wide around as a pair of a woman’s thighs. The head which
sat upon that neck was squarish in shape. The heavyset chin — currently
clenched closed — and the way that person’s eyes surveyed its surroundings
reminded one of a carnivorous beast. The blonde hair upon that head was
trimmed short for the sake of practicality.
That person’s chest bulged mightily under their clothes, as though on proud
display. Said chest resembled nothing so much as thoroughly honed pectoral
muscles. Put more clearly, this was no longer a tender feminine bosom.
This was the adamantite-ranked adventurer team composed solely of females
— Blue Rose.
The two of them were members of Blue Rose. One was the arcane magic caster
Evileye, while the other was warrior Gagaran.
Climb approached them. One of the people he was looking for nodded, and
then bellowed huskily:
“Yo, cherry boy!”
The gazes that had been slowly drifting away all focused on Climb once more,
but nobody mocked him. Instead, they turned away once more, as though in
sympathy for him.
They did this because they knew that even for mythril or orichalcum-ranked
adventurers, showing the slightest bit of disrespect to Gagaran’s guest was not
so much bravery, but foolhardiness.
Climb bore the insult and approached steadily.
No matter how many times he pleaded with her, Gagaran refused to address
Climb by his proper name. That being the case, the best course of action he could
take was to give up and pretend he did not care.
“Good to see you again, Gagaran-sa — san. And Evileye-sama.”
He arrived before the two of them and bowed.
“Oh, it’s been a while. What, come to sleep with me, have you?”
Gagaran jerked her chin, indicating that he should take a seat. There was an
evil, savage grin upon that square face of hers.
Climb simply shook his head blankly.
Gagaran said the same thing every time, to the point where it had become
something like a form of greeting. However, she was not joking in the slightest.
If Climb answered “yes,” even in jest, she would immediately drag him into a
singles’ room on the second floor. Climb would be helpless before her
irresistible arm-strength.
Gagaran, who prided herself as a “cherry picker,” was such a person.
In contrast to Gagaran, Evileye faced stoically forward, her face unmoving.
Perhaps she was eyeing Climb under her mask, but he could not be sure of that.
“No, that’s not it. Aindra-sama bade me come.”
“Hm? Leader did?”
“Yes. I come with a message. ‘You might need to move out in a hurry. I’ll
explain the details when you get back.’ However, Aindra-sama wishes the two of
you to ready yourselves and prepare for action at any time.”
“Understood. Still, you’ve gone to a lot of trouble for such a small thing.”
Gagaran’s face lit up with a broad smile, and Climb remembered that he had
something else to tell her.
“Today I had the good fortune of sparring with Stronoff-sama. The move you
taught me then — the big downward chop — met with Stronoff-sama’s
approval.”
Gagaran had taught him that blow in the practice yard behind this inn. Her
face split with a grin, as though she had been the one who had been praised.
“Oh, that move? Hehe, not bad, kid. Still…”
“Yes. I won’t be satisfied with just that. I will continue to practice and seek
perfection.”
“You’ve got to keep training, of course. But you should also think about what
to do if someone counters that move. Think of a move to continue from it.”
Was it coincidence, or merely a unity of opinions from a pair of first-rate
warriors? What Gagaran had said was much like Gazef’s own feedback. A look of
surprise came over Climb’s face at the similarity of their words. Gagaran seemed
to have read his reaction the wrong way, and laughed, “Of course, you have to
use that chopping move I taught you as a finishing blow, otherwise it’s
meaningless.”
Then she continued: “In truth, you need to pick a move from all the others
out there that has universal applicability. However, you can’t do it.”
Gagaran’s words hinted at Climb’s lack of talent.
“Therefore, you need to develop a way to attack at least three times in
combination. That combo must be one that keeps your foe from
counterattacking, even if they manage to defend against it.”
Climb nodded.
“Of course, that won’t work when fighting many-armed monsters. But against
humans, that ought to be enough. While you’ll be in trouble once your opponent
sees through your attack patterns, it ought to be effective the first time you face
any foe. Hammer them, hammer them and keep hammering them.”
“Understood,” Climb nodded heavily.
This morning, he had only managed to get one hit in on Gazef. On every other
occasion, Gazef had seen through him immediately and he had been
counterattacked in turn.
Then, could he lose confidence because of that? Of course not.
 Could he allow himself to fall into despair because of that? Of course not.
It was the opposite.
It was precisely the opposite.
A mere commoner like himself had been able to come that close to the
strongest warrior in the Kingdom — no, the surrounding countries. Climb knew
that Gazef had not begun to show his true power, but to Climb — who had been
walking a pitch-black path with no light in sight — it was a tremendous dose of
encouragement.
It was like telling him: Your efforts were not in vain.
As he thought about that, he fully understood what Gagaran was trying to say.
He was not confident that he could develop a good combination attack, but
he was willing to try. A flame had been lit in the depths of his heart. He was
determined to become stronger, so that he could draw out more of Gazef’s
strength the next time he sparred with the Warrior-Captain.
“…Right, I think you asked Evileye about something before, didn’t you?
Something about learning magic?”
“Yes.”
Climb glanced at Evileye. At that time, she had merely laughed at him from
under her mask and the matter had been forgotten. Asking her the same thing
now, when nothing had changed, would only yield the same answer.
However—
“Kid.”
A muffled voice reached his ears.
Her voice was quite surprising, even without removing the mask she wore.
The mask she wore was not particularly thick, so it should have been easy to
make out the qualities of her voice. However, there was no way to tell Evileye’s
age or any emotional inflections from it. At the very most, he could conclude
that she was female. It was an emotionless, even voice that sounded both old
and young at the same time.
That was probably because Evileye’s mask was magical. But why did she have
to conceal her voice?
“You have no talent. Work hard somewhere else.”
She did not allow him any room to respond, as though there was nothing else
to be said.
Climb knew her meaning very well.
He was not talented in magic. No, that was not all.
 No matter how hard he practiced his swordplay, how many times he bled and
blistered and callused his hands, he could not reach the level he longed for. Low
walls which a talented individual might soar over were like insurmountable
barriers to Climb.
However, he could not give up on working hard to surpass that unreachable
limit. Since he had no talent, he had to hope that his unrelenting effort would
help him improve in some way.
“You don’t seem happy with that.”
Having sensed the emotions under Climb’s iron mask, Evileye continued:
“Talent is an inborn ability… Some people say that talents are like buds before
they blossom, and everyone has talent… hmph. To me, that’s just wishful
thinking, something idiots use to comfort themselves. Even the leader of the
Thirteen Heroes was the same way.”
The leader of the Thirteen Heroes. According to legend, he was just an
ordinary person, weaker than anyone else. However, he continued swinging his
sword even when injured, and he eventually became a hero who was stronger
than anyone else. He was a mighty being who could grow without limit.
“He was talented, but it just hadn’t flowered yet. It’s different from your case.
You’ve worked so hard, but that’s all the talent you’ve shown… Not everyone has
talent, and the difference is blindingly obvious between the haves and have nots.
Therefore… I won’t tell you to give up, but you ought to know your limits.”
Evileye’s stern lecture was followed by a brief silence. In the end, Evileye
broke it.
“Gazef Stronoff… he’s a good example. People like him would be considered
talented. Climb… do you think you can make up the difference between the two
of you with effort?”
He could not answer. His training today had made him realize that he was
nowhere near that league.
“Alright, maybe he’s not such a good example… still, the only person I can
think of whose swordsmanship approaches his was among the Thirteen Heroes.
Gagaran here is good, but she can’t beat Gazef.”
“…Hey don’t compare him to me. Gazef’s a man with a foot into the realm of
heroes, y’know?”
“Hmph. You’re a heroic woman too… although the woman part is in doubt.”
As soon as Evileye’s voice trailed off, Gagaran laughed and answered:
“Oi oi, Evileye. These heroes in question are monsters with unique abilities
that have surpassed the realm of humanity, right?”
“…I do not deny that.”
“Then I’m still human. Just an ordinary person who can’t reach the realm of
heroes.”
“Even so, you’re still talented. You’re not an untalented person like Climb.
Climb, you shouldn’t be fixated on trying to grasp the stars.”
Climb knew — better than anyone else — that he lacked talent. Even so,
hearing her repeat you have no talent, you have no talent was very depressing. That
said, Climb had no intention of changing his life’s goal.
—This body exists for the Princess. For her, I will—
Perhaps she sensed a martyr’s resolve from Climb, but in the end, Evileye
scoffed from behind her mask.
“…So you’re not giving up, even after I’ve said all that.”
“Yes.”
“Foolishness. Utter foolishness.”
She shook her head forcefully, unable to understand him.
“Moving forward while clinging to an unreachable dream will set you on the
way to destruction. You know that, right? I’ll tell you again — you need to know
your limits.”
“I understand.”
“You may understand, but you don’t care at all, do you? The word foolish does
not even begin to describe men like you. You’re the type who dies early… and
someone will weep for you when you do, am I wrong?”
“What’s this, Evileye? You’re bullying Climb because you care about him?”
Evileye rounded her shoulders as she heard Gagaran speak. Then, she turned
to Gagaran and grabbed her by the lapels while shouting:
“Will you shut up, you beefcake bimbo?!”
“Hey, you know I’m right, right?”
Gagaran was content to let Evileye hang on to her while she replied
nonchalantly. Evileye was speechless for a moment, and then she sank back into
her chair.
Then, she turned the topic back towards Climb.
“Start by learning about magic. Once you know more, you’ll be able to
understand how magic-using enemies think. You’ll be able to pick a more correct
course of action that way.”
“Won’t learning all those spells be a bit much for him?”
 “Of course not. The fact is, there aren’t that many spells which magic casters
use. Just focus on the commonly used ones. If you can’t even do that, then you
should just give up,” Evileye muttered.
“Besides, he’ll only need to study up to the third tier. That shouldn’t be a
problem.”
“…I say, Evileye. We all know spells go up to the tenth tier, but nobody can
use magic of such a high level. Yet you know about it. Why’s that?”
“Hm…”
Evileye had a schoolmarmish look on her face as she fiddled around under her
robe. Climb suddenly realized that the sounds around them seemed further
away now. It was hard to describe, but it felt as though there was a thin film
surrounding them.
“Don’t panic. I just used a pointless little item.”
Climb did not know that the activation of that item was a sign of how worried
she was about being overheard. All he knew was that Evileye intended to answer
Gagaran’s question in strict seriousness. Now that she had gone to that extent,
he sat up straight in his chair.
“In ancient myths — little more than legends — there was mention of beings
known as the Eight Greed Kings. They were known as people who had stolen the
power of gods, and the tales speak of how they once ruled this world with that
absolute power.”
Climb had heard the story of the Eight Greed Kings. While they were not too
popular, given that they were only children’s tales, anyone with a little bit of
knowledge would know of them.
In summary, the beings known as the Eight Greed Kings appeared 500 years
ago. Some said that they stood as tall as the heavens, some said they looked like
Dragons, but in any case, the Eight Greed Kings devastated the nations in an
instant, dominating the world with their power which could move mountains
and part the seas. However, their desires ran deep, and they fought each other
for their possessions, resulting in their mutual extinction.
This story was not popular for obvious reasons, but debate raged over whether
or not it was merely a children’s fairytale. Climb personally felt that it had been
greatly embellished. However, a small group of people among the adventurers
believed that the Eight Greed Kings existed — and that they commanded powers
beyond those of any in this modern age.
The proof of that was a city within the deserts far to the south. Rumors said
that it was the capital built when the Eight Greed Kings conquered the
continent.
As Climb lost himself in his thoughts, Evileye continued speaking:
“Apparently, the Eight Greed Kings possessed numberless powerful magic
items, and the mightiest of them was called the Nameless Spellbook… at least,
that’s what people call it. That’s the answer to everything.”
“Ah? So those spells are recorded in that book?”
“Indeed. They say that the Eight Greed Kings of legend left that unimaginable
powerful magic item behind, a book which records all the world’s spells. Also,
they say that due to some kind of magic, even newly-developed spells appear
within its pages as well.”
Climb knew of the Eight Greed Kings, but not of this tome. He had a rough
idea of how valuable this item truly was, but he remained silent and listened.
“We know of the existence of tenth-tier spells because of this item. Of course,
there aren’t many people who know of the Nameless Spellbook itself…”
Climb gulped.
“Will, will you be searching for that Nameless Spellbook?”
Climb only asked that question because he knew that they were top-class
adventurers.
Evileye snorted, as though to say, Don’t be ridiculous.
“Hmph. They say that the book is defended by powerful magic and nobody
can touch it but its rightful owner. Apparently, it’s an item worth as much as an
entire world, which is a hint as to how dangerous it really is. I know my limits,
so I don’t desire it. I’d rather not die in a stupid way like the Eight Greed Kings.”
“Your leader is said to wield one of the weapons belonging to a member of the
Thirteen Heroes… does she feel the same way?”
“…That’s something else entirely. However, I only heard about it from
someone who saw it before, I’m just unclear about the details. I think we’ve
drifted off-topic, but that’s that. Do you get it now, Gagaran?”
After that, Evileye looked somewhat puzzled, which was quite rare for her,
and then she said:
“Climb. Don’t forsake your humanity in the pursuit of power.”
“Forsaking humanity… you mean like the demons in stories?”
“That’s one way. There’s also becoming one of the undead, or a magical
being.”
“Normal people can’t do that.”
 “Which is true… but after you become undead, your mind often twists to go
with it. When once you only acted to fulfill a passionate dream… the changes in
the body are echoed in the soul, and you become a terrifying monster.”
The voice from under that mask was typically devoid of emotional inflection,
but now it was tinged with a hint of regret. Gagaran noticed how Evileye was
staring into the distance and deliberately spoke up in a bright voice.
“Well, the Princess would probably faint if she woke up and saw that Climb
had become an Ogre.”
Evileye had probably sensed the good intentions behind Gagaran’s words. Her
voice returned to its usual emotionless pitch.
“…Indeed, that’s a way too. Transmutation-type spells can briefly allow you
to change into another species. I’ll be frank — they’re valid options for
improving your physical attributes.”
“I think I’ll pass on that.”
“If you simply desire strength, then changing into another species is quite
effective. After all, the human body is hardly exceptional, and the same abilities
are more effective when one’s basic physical attributes are improved.”
That much was obvious. Between two evenly skilled opponents, the one with
the better physical attributes would have the advantage.
“The fact is that many of the Thirteen Heroes were not humans. By the way,
they’re called the Thirteen Heroes, but there were more of them than that.
However, only thirteen of them made it into song and story… the battle against
the Demon Gods was one that crossed all racial boundaries, and certain human-
centric people didn’t want to let the other species shine too much in the heroic
sagas.”
Evileye seemed to be making a dig at certain people. Then, her attitude
changed, and she continued in a nostalgic tone.
“The Warrior-Captain of the Air Giants and his Axe of Cyclones, the Elf Royal
Family who bore the special characteristics of the ancestral Elves, and the Black
Knight who wielded the Four Swords of Darkness — the original owner of our
leader’s Kilineiram — was also a human with demon’s blood.”
“The Four Swords of Darkness, huh…”
Black Knight, one of the Thirteen Heroes, was renowned for possessing four
blades: the evil blade Hyumilis, the demon blade Kilineiram, the blade of rot
Crocdabal, and the fatal blade Sfeiz. One of those blades was in the hands of
Lakyus, the leader of Blue Rose.
 “The Demon Blade Kilineiram, created by condensing infinite darkness, is
said to be the mightiest of the four… I have a question, is it true that if it
unleashes its full power, it could project enough dark energy to swallow a
country whole?”
“What are you talking about?” Evileye asked in a confused tone.
“I once heard our leader muttering to herself when she was alone. She held
her right arm and said, ‘only a woman who serves the gods like myself can
suppress its demonic power with all my will’ or something like that.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that before…” Evileye tilted her head in
surprise. “Still, if the owner says that, it might be true.”
“Then is there really a Dark Lakyus, born from the dark side of her spirit?”
“What?”
“Nah, I just happened to hear her muttering to herself again. Don’t think she
noticed me, so I decided to take a listen, and in the end she ended up saying, ‘If
you get careless, this being of blackness born of the source of all darkness shall
take over your body and release the Demon Blade’s power’ or something.
Sounded pretty bad.”
“This… well, we can’t rule that out. Some cursed items can control their
owners’ minds… things would be pretty dire if something like that happened to
Lakyus.”
“I felt that she was trying to keep it a secret, but this is something big, right?
So when I asked her straight up, she blushed and told me not to worry about it.”
“Hm. It must be pretty embarrassing for a priest — who should be the one
removing curses — to end up falling victim to a curse herself. Perhaps she
doesn’t want us to worry? Does she really intend to bear that burden by herself?”
“I didn’t see her act like that again after that… but think about it. Didn’t she
start wearing all those meaningless armor rings on all her fingers after obtaining
the Demon Blade?”
“I thought she put them on to be fashionable… do you mean they’re sealing-
type magic items or touchstones of some sort?”
Climb could no longer pretend to be unmoved, and he frowned.
From what he had seen and heard, Lakyus might well be under the control of
an evil magic item. He became even more worried as he thought about where he
had just been.
“…Will Renner-sama be in danger?”
Evileye stopped Climb before he could rush out.
 “Don’t worry. I doubt the situation will deteriorate. She won’t be taken over
unawares, even if the power of darkness threatens to take her over. We’ll have
to take the fact that she didn’t tell us as a sign that she’s confident of controlling
it herself. I’m certain she has the mental strength for it. Still… I didn’t expect
the sword to have that kind of power. Even I’ve never heard of that before.”
“Should we talk to Azuth for safety’s sake?”
“I’m not too happy about asking a rival for help, but… well, she is his niece, so
we should let him know, at least.”
“Hm, then shouldn’t we do that right away? We still need to track him down
too.”
“Mm. We should just prepare ourselves to back Lakyus up at any time.”
“After all, it takes an adamantite-ranked adventurer to stop another.”
“—Hm? Ahhh! That reminds me, Gagaran. I heard that a third adamantite-
ranked adventurer team was formed in E-Rantel.”
“What? Really? That’s the first time I’ve heard of it… did you find that out
when you went to the Adventurer’s Guild this morning?”
“No… ah, yes. Sorry. I forgot to tell you. Their team seems to be black.”
“Black? I thought we’d have brown or green after blue and red.”
“Well, black is one of the colors of the Six Great Gods. Nothing strange about
that. Who knows, the next one might be white.”
“I’m no fan of the Slaine Theocracy. Actually, didn’t we have a big fight with
one of their special ops units?”
Climb sensed that he had overheard a pretty dangerous topic, but neither of
them paid him any heed as they kept talking.
“Gagaran, you hate them? …Well, they did try to kill me once, but I understand
how they’re thinking. Or rather, their sworn mission is to defend all of mankind.
Isn’t that proper, from the perspective of humanity as a species?”
“Hah? So you mean it’s alright to massacre innocent demi-humans and Elves
for that goal?”
There was a clear look of disgust on Gagaran’s face, and the flames of anger
burned in her eyes. Evileye bore her anger, and shrugged.
“There’s quite a few human nations around here, like the Kingdom, the Holy
Kingdom, the Empire, and so on. But did you know, Gagaran? The further you
are from here, the fewer human-led nations there are. All of them are countries
composed of demi-humans or species that are superior to mankind. Did you
know that some of them even trade in humans as slaves? The reason why there
aren’t any of those countries around here is because the Slaine Theocracy has
been going around and exterminating any demi-humans that pop their heads
up.”
Gagaran’s anger went out as she heard Evileye’s words. Still, she was frowning
as she replied:
“Well, demi-humans were always physically superior to mankind anyway. If
they banded together and developed culture, humanity wouldn’t be able to deal
with them.”
“Basically, all humans should think highly of the Theocracy. It’s true that
they’re ruthless, which is a demerit, but even so, nobody else has done more for
mankind as a whole… of course, whether or not the few they abandoned could
say the same thing is a different matter entirely. Besides, it’s quite likely that
they were the ones who originated the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Seriously?”
“Who knows? There’s no telling if it’s true or not, but the possibility is very
high. After all, the Adventurer’s Guild was founded after the battle with the
Demon Gods, when humanity’s strength had been greatly diminished. I suspect
they were preserving their power and wanted to aid the various nations without
causing friction, and thus they set up that organization.”
Silence filled the table after the discussion ended. Unable to bear it, Climb
spoke up:
“Forgive my interruption, Evileye-sama. You said that new adamantite-
ranked adventurers had emerged; do you know their names?”
“Hm? Ah, right, I mentioned that. I think one of them is called… Momon. He’s
their leader, a warrior called the Dark Hero. They haven’t picked a name for their
team yet, but everyone calls them ‘Darkness.’”
“I see. How about the other members?”
“I heard he’s paired with someone called Nabe, an arcane magic caster known
as the Beautiful Princess.”
“Huh? Just the two of them? What’s up with that? Are those idiots so
confident in their abilities that… no, it’s because of those abilities that they’re
adamantite-ranked. Are they hiding some kind of secret weapon? Is that it? What
accomplishments do they have to their name?”
Climb leaned in to listen as well. This was an adventurer team which had
obtained the adamantite rank. They must have embarked on all manner of
adventures which would set people’s hearts aflutter. He was burning with
anticipation even before hearing a single word.
“All this was done within two months… first, they eliminated the thousands
of undead which showed up in E-Rantel. Then, they exterminated the Northern
Goblin Tribe Alliance, found rare herbs in the Great Forest of Tob, slew a Gigant
Basilisk and eliminated a band of undead that had escaped from the Katze Plains.
In addition, I hear they defeated an incredibly powerful Vampire…”
“A Gigant Basilisk…” Climb repeated in a breathless voice.
It was a huge monster that was almost ten meters long, like a cross between
a lizard and a serpent. It had a petrifying gaze attack, its bodily fluids were a
poison that could cause instant death, and its hard, thick skin rivaled mythril in
toughness. It was a terrifying being, so being able to defeat a monster like that
— which could destroy a town — was a perfectly sensible reason for being
promoted to adamantite rank.
However, there was one problem with that —
“That’s… amazing. Still, did they really do it with just the two of them? Surely
just two people, being a warrior and an arcane magic caster, wouldn’t be able to
deal with a Gigant Basilisk, right? Doesn’t seem possible to me.”
—Indeed. It was almost impossible for just two people to do it, especially if
they were a warrior and an arcane magic caster. How would they heal
themselves? How could they resist its petrifying gaze, its toxic bodily fluids and
its other special attacks?
“Ah! Sorry, I can’t really say it was just the two of them. I hear they subdued
the Wise King of the Forest by force and made it their minion.”
“…The Wise King of the Forest? What manner of beast is that?”
Climb recalled the name from various heroic sagas and similar stories.
However, it would be terribly rude to interrupt right now.
“I don’t know the details either, but apparently it was a magical beast which
inhabited the Great Forest of Tob since times of old. It possesses matchless
might. My colleagues once… yes, I don’t think they encountered it when they
went to the Great Forest 200 years ago.”
Evileye shrugged as she mentioned the figure of 200.
Such a number would not be anything out of the ordinary for Forest Elves,
but given her attitude, Climb could only conclude that it was a jest of some sort.
“Oho. Then, how credible are these stories? They’ve probably been spiced up
or something, right?”
It was always like that. Sometimes a tale was accidentally exaggerated in the
telling, or corpses were so badly dismembered that one could not get an accurate
body count, and sometimes adventurers just wanted to brag for fame. Thus,
these stories often ended up embellished.
In contrast, Evileye erected a finger and wagged it with a “tch tch tch.”
“Well, these stories seem pretty factual. The E-Rantel incident in particular,
where that man threw his greatsword and slew an undead Giant, then carved his
way through a thousands-strong horde of undead. These reports came from the
surviving guardsmen and their accounts all tally up. Thus, I doubt there was any
exaggeration of his exploits. They eliminated the masterminds behind the
undead horde and the corpses have been verified, and they destroyed a pair of
Skeletal Dragons before that.”
Gagaran was speechless, and Climb asked her:
“Even you would have trouble with them too, am I right, Gagaran-san?”
“If it was just several thousand Zombies or Skeletons, it’d be fine. I could
smash my way through those. Even the two Skeletal Dragons might be doable.
But I can’t say the same for the masterminds behind the incident. I’ve no
confidence of being able to deal with them if I didn’t know their abilities.”
“There are unofficial opinions which state that they were from Zuranon.”
“Really, Evileye? Ah… if it was their Disciples, then I’d be out of luck. It’d be
really hard to beat them after fighting so deep into hostile territory. Make one
little mistake, get poisoned or paralyzed, and the show’s over for you. How did
the two of them heal themselves? Potions, maybe? Who knows, that Momon
warrior might be able to use divine magic like our leader. Or perhaps that
Beautiful Princess girl could use it.”
“We can’t rule that out,” Evileye nodded in agreement.
“Still, a Gigant Basilisk… Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Enemies like that are too
much for warriors… for any close-range fighters, actually. I’ve got the power of
Gaze Bane on my side, but it’d be really risky without backup.”
“Heard that, Climb? In other words, Gagaran can’t do it by herself. In other
words, it’d all be up to that Nabe woman. Maybe you could do the same if you
were paired with her… could you?”
“Ah, it’d be easy if she was as strong as Evileye. If it were you, you could take
care of it yourself with long-ranged combat, even without getting serious, am I
right?”
“As if I’m that great. I’d have to show my true power.”
“Well, with you around, the only thing I’d have to handle would be the Skeletal
Dragons… no, that’d mean I was just relying on your strength. If I were grouped
with an orichalcum-ranked magic caster and we split up… yeah, not going to
happen.”
Climb found this very surprising.
Was Evileye really such a powerful magic caster? Under normal
circumstances, adventurer teams ought to be made up of members of equal
strength, and they ought to be able to adventure together. Why was there such
a big discrepancy here?
“I doubt that would be the case. I know your strength very well, Gagaran-san.
I’m certain you won’t lose to those people.”
“Uhyo~ that’s high praise. Alright, wanna do it?”
“I’ll have to refuse.”
“That’s why you’re a cherry boy. You know, they say that it’s a shame for a
man not to eat what’s been laid out in front of him. There’s no point in staying
cherry forever, you know. What’ll you do when you finally get it on with the
woman you like? Do you want her to say you suck in bed? Do you get off on that
sort of thing? Are you a masochist or something?”
Gagaran did not wait for Climb to reply. After that, she sighed with
exaggerated loudness.
“Fine, fine, I won’t force you. I’m good to go whenever, so if you want a quickie
with me, just let me know… still, that Beautiful Princess nickname is pretty
embarrassing. Does she live up to it?”
“I’ve heard that Nabe person is really beautiful. According to the rumors—”
Here Climb thought he sensed Evileye glancing at him; a hunch that proved
to be true moments later.
“—She’s as beautiful as the Kingdom’s Golden Princess.”
Gagaran flashed a knowing look at Climb, like he was a bad boy. Climb guessed
what she was going to say, and stole a march on her.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. To me, nobody is more beautiful than
Renner-sama.”
“Ah, that’s true.”
Her tone clearly stated, what a shame.
“Hm, I guess we’ve wasted too much time on idle chatter. Sorry for making
you listen to our babbling. After this, we’ll do as Lakyus says and get ready.
Gagaran and Evileye rose, and so did Climb.
“Sorry, Climb. I really wanted to have some fun with you, but I don’t have the
time.”
“Please, don’t worry about it, Gagaran-san. And thank you for your words of
wisdom, Evileye-sama.”
Gagaran carefully studied Climb, and then laughed tiredly.
“Mm, alright, then. You should be going back right away, so we’ll leave our
leader to you. Good seeing you around, cherry boy… oh, that’s right. You need
to make sure you’re properly equipped. That thing on your belt isn’t your usual
weapon, right?”
“Yes. This is a spare.”
“Something might come up. Armor’s one thing, but you’d best keep your
sword by your side. It’s a basic self-defense principle for adventurers, especially
warriors. Do you have the item I gave you?”
“The bells? They’re here.”
Climb patted the pouch on his waist.
“Really now. That’s good. Remember, we’re warriors; all we can do is swing
our weapons. Sometimes, situations occur that can’t be dealt with using
weapons. That’s when you use magic items to help you out with those. You need
to obtain as many magic items as possible and keep them on you, got that? Also,
make sure you have at least three healing potions on you, alright? They’ve helped
me out more than once.
Climb had owned three such bottles, but he only had two on him right now.
“I understand,” he replied.
“…Well, aren’t we being nice to someone today.”
“Come on, give me a break, Evileye… sorry I delayed you. I just wanted to say,
don’t slack on the preparations and be careful.”
“I understand.”
Climb bowed deeply to Gagaran.
 3

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 06:00

Nine men and women sat around a circular table.
The heads of Eight Fingers’ eight divisions were there, but they did not look
at each other. Either they studied the documents in their hands or spoke to the
minions awaiting orders behind them.
It did not feel like they were from the same organization at all. Things were
not yet at a hair-trigger stage, but their wariness against potential enemies was
obvious enough. However, that much was only to be expected. They might be in
the same organization and worked with each other, but the fact was that they
mainly cut into each other’s profits with the occasional bout of what might be
considered cooperation.
The drugs division was the prime example, handling all aspects of production,
processing and trafficking by themselves. The smuggling and other divisions
would not raise a finger to help them. Even if they did not openly oppose each
other, it was common enough for them to try and trip each other up behind the
scenes.
These activities — which did no good to the organization — stemmed from
the fact that they had once been disparate crime rings which had banded
together.
The reason why these viceroys of vice gathered on specific days for Eight
Fingers division head meetings was because not doing so would be
disadvantageous to them.
That was to say, not taking part in these meetings could be taken as a sign of
treachery, and absent parties would thus be marked for elimination. Therefore,
even those people who did not commonly come to the Royal Capital would do
so just for these meetings.
Even those people who typically spent their days hiding in a safehouse would
essentially come here to expose themselves. Those who were so afraid of
assassination that they surrounded themselves in guards would do the same.
There was a limited number of people allowed at each meeting, and so each of
the participants brought two of their finest men from their own divisions, in
addition to themselves.
—However, one person stood as an exception to this.
“Since we’re all here, let’s begin the regular meeting.”
As that male voice spoke, the gathered people returned to their seats and their
chairs creaked.
The speaker was the host of this event, the coordinator of Eight Fingers. This
man — who looked to be in his fifties — wore a holy symbol of the Water God
on a necklace and had a compassionate face. He did not look at all like a denizen
of the underworld.
“There are several matters which need discussion, and the first of them is —
Hilma.”
“Present.”
The person who answered was a fair-skinned woman.
Said skin was so pale she almost looked sickly, and her clothes were also white.
She held a pipe which emitted purple fumes in one hand. A serpentine tattoo
snaked up that hand toward her shoulder. Her lipstick was the same purple as
her eyeshadow. In her diaphanous clothing, she was the very picture of a high-
class prostitute, complete with the dissipated air which hung about her.
“Huwah~” she yawned in an exaggerated manner. “Couldn’t we have started
the meeting earlier?”
“…I heard your drug plantations were attacked by someone?”
“Yes, they hit the villages we were using for production. Cost me quite a sum.
We may need to cut back on the drug supply.”
“Any idea who might be behind this?”
“No. None at all… however, as a result, it’s not difficult to think of who might
have done it.”
“Which color?”
That question was enough for everyone present to understand.
 “No clue. I just learned the village was attacked. Didn’t have time to find out
more.”
“Is that so. Then, everyone, that’s how it is. Please raise your hands if you
know anything.”
There was no response. Either nobody knew, or nobody wanted to share what
they knew.
“Then, next on—”
“—Oi.”
It was a low voice. It was a male voice, and it concealed incredible power
within its depths.
All eyes turned to the source of that voice. The speaker was a bald man whose
face was half-covered by an animal tattoo. However, every part of him was
immense. His muscular frame was evident even through his clothes, and his cold
eyes were those of a warrior.
All the other division heads had brought guards along, but only he had nobody
behind him. That was only sensible. What point was there in bringing a group of
useless people along?
The man stared at Hilma, head of the drugs division. No, he was probably not
staring; just that his razor-thin pupils appeared to be doing so.
The guard behind her lost his cool for a moment and his breathing turned
chaotic. It was a reaction born of knowing exactly how outmatched he was in
fighting strength.
After all, this man was a monster. He would have no problem slaughtering
everyone in this room.
“Why not hire me? Do you think the mooks on your payroll can protect
anything?”
His name was Zero. He was the manager of the Security Division, which
handled everything from simple bodyguarding to escorting nobles. He was
famous for his battle prowess, which far exceeded that of any other member of
Eight Fingers. And the response to his proposal was—
“There’s no need for that.”
—Was a firm rejection.
“There’s no need for that. Besides, I can’t reveal the location of my bases to
others.”
That was the end of it. Zero closed his eyes, as though he had lost interest.
Doing this made him resemble a boulder.
 “That would be great. I’ll accept your proposal on her behalf.”
The speaker was a slender man. He looked limp and weak, in stark contrast to
Zero.
“Zero, I want to hire your people.”
“Oh, what’s this, Cocco Doll. Can you afford it?”
If one considered Hilma’s business — the drug trade — to be booming, then
this man’s field — the slave trade — was declining by the day. That was because
the Golden Princess had made slavery illegal, and as a result he had to go
underground with his business.
“That’s fine, Zero. And if possible, I’d like to hire someone on the level of the
Six Arms, the best of the best.”
“Oh.”
Zero opened his eyes again, as though his interest was reignited.
He was not the only one who was surprised. Just about everyone present was
thinking the same thought.
The name of Six Arms came from the brother to the god of thieves, who had
six arms. That name referred to the strongest fighters of the Security Division.
Of course, their top man was Zero, but the other five had prowess rivaling his.
Rumor had it that one of them could cleave though space, another could control
illusions, and that one of them was even a powerful undead being known as an
Elder Lich.
If Gazef Stronoff or adamantite-ranked adventurers could be considered the
mightiest warriors in polite society, then Six Arms were the greatest killers of
the underworld. Hiring somebody like that could only mean one thing.
“Gotten ourselves into big trouble, haven’t we? Have no fear. My strongest
subordinates will protect your assets.”
“Do forgive the inconvenience. There’s been problems with a woman who was
supposed to be eliminated. Perhaps this might be an overreaction, but if that
place goes down, I’ll be in a hell of a fix. Ah yes, we’ll discuss the fees later.”
“Of course.”
“Can you send your man over right after the meeting ends? There’s something
I’d like him to do right away.”
“Got it. I brought someone along; I’ll lend him to you.”
“…Then, onto the next topic. Regarding the newly minted adamantite-ranked
adventurer Momon of Darkness… does anyone know about him, or have they
made any overtures towards him?”
 Intermission

The sound of valuable metals clinking against each other rang forth.
After ensuring that the up-ended purse was empty, Ainz began sorting out the
shiny coins scattered on the table.
He placed ten silver or gold coins into each stack, and then he counted them
up.
After totaling the stacks of coins several times, Ainz looked inside the purse.
It was empty, as expected. After verifying that fact, Ainz cast it aside, and then
grabbed his head.
“Not enough… there’s not enough money at all…”
His illusory human face twisted in depression. Of course, the money before
him was a sizable sum. An ordinary citizen could labor for decades and not
accumulate this amount. However, to the master of the Great Underground
Tomb of Nazarick and its only source of income, it was little more than pocket
change, a fact that made him terribly uneasy.
Ainz’s mental state would be forcibly stabilized once it was disrupted beyond
a certain threshold. Therefore, he should have been automatically calmed down
once the shock of having insufficient money kicked in and assaulted his psyche.
However, the sum of gold coins he possessed gave him some emotional leeway,
and so the emotional cutoff did not trigger. Instead, he burned in the slow fires
of anxiety.
Ainz shook his head, and divided the gold coins before him into several piles.
“First, this is additional funding for Sebas.”
The pile of money before him dwindled in an instant, and Ainz’s face twitched.
“Then there’s this pile… funds for rebuilding and financial aid for the
Lizardman Village, in accordance with Cocytus’ wishes, and then…”
It was less than before, but the pile of money shifted, leaving only a few gold
pieces behind.
 “…This money is going towards the Lizardman Village’s expenses, so if I buy
from the Adventurer’s Guild, I can use my reputation as an adamantite-ranked
adventurer to open doors for me. That should make things… cheaper… so
perhaps this will do?”
He recovered several coins from Cocytus’ pile.
After counting and recounting the remaining coins, Ainz muttered quietly to
himself.
“…Maybe I should get a merchant to sponsor me or something… It’d be a good
way to set up a regular income stream outside of adventuring.”
There were only three adamantite-ranked adventurer teams in the Kingdom,
including Ainz’s own. Therefore, sometimes merchants would make requests of
them by name. These jobs were both easy and profitable for Ainz, and he could
easily stand to take a few. However, he had not done so until now.
That was because Ainz wanted to avoid giving merchants or adventurers the
impression that his Momon persona was a money-grubber, or perhaps one who
would do anything for money.
Ainz intended to build a public image of an adventurer who was loved by all,
and then transfer that glory to Ainz Ooal Gown. Thus, he had to be mindful of
what other people thought of him.
“Still… I’m penniless. Shouldn’t have stayed in such an expensive inn…”
Ainz looked around the opulent room.
This was the best inn in all of E-Rantel, and this was its best room. Naturally,
the prices for this room were equally staggering However, this superior room
meant nothing to Ainz, who did not need to sleep. How he longed to spend the
money somewhere else.
The same went for his meals. However splendid the dishes which the inn
prepared for him, it was all meaningless to Ainz, who could not eat them. It
would be wiser to cancel the meals and save the money.
However, Ainz knew exactly why he could not do that.
Ainz… no, Momon was the sole adamantite-ranked adventurer in this city. A
big name like himself could not possibly live in a flophouse where he had to take
care of everything himself.
Living standards were an easy way of benchmarking people. An adamantite-
ranked adventurer had to lead a lifestyle consistent with an adamantite-ranked
adventurer, such as the inn where he stayed and what he wore.
Clothes did make the man, after all.
 Thus, Ainz could not lower himself to stay in cheap lodgings. It was the same
even though he understood that this was a waste of money.
“If they think I’m really this valuable, then the Guild ought to book me a
room… hah… although, they’d probably do it if I asked…”
That said, he did not want to owe people favors. To date, whenever the guild
made urgent requests of him, he would move into action immediately to make
them feel indebted to him. Once he had accumulated enough leverage, he would
then start calling in his markers. If he allowed people to pay off their debts with
such small things, his plan would be ruined.
“Ah… there’s no money. Whatever shall I do… More requests, perhaps? But
there haven’t been any good-paying jobs recently. And if I take too many on, the
other adventurers will start to hate me…”
While he wanted Ainz Ooal Gown to become an eternal legend, obviously he
did not want that name to become infamous. Ainz made the semblance of a sigh,
them memorized that amount of spending cash he had from the pile.
“Speaking of money, what about the Guardians’ salary?”
Ainz went “Hmm” and leaned back against his chair, looking at the ceiling.
The Guardians insisted on not drawing a salary, saying that their greatest joy
in life was to serve the Supreme Beings, so they would not dare think of taking
payment for it.
However, Ainz felt that he should not rely too much on their goodwill. One
needed to reward work done in an appropriate fashion.
While the Guardians had all indicated that loyalty to the Supreme Beings was
the best reward, that statement did not sit easy with Ainz.
Perhaps that was the conceit of a man who drew his pay by showing up for
work, but he felt that labor ought to be compensated.
For all he knew, instituting a salary system might lead to the fall and
corruption of these pure and naive children. Even so, he felt that it held merit as
an experiment.
“The question now is how I should pay them.”
Ainz’s eyes went from the ceiling to the diminished pile of gold coins on the
table.
“If we consider the Guardians’ salary to be equivalent to that of a department
head in a high-end company, that means they’d draw 15 million yen per year…
Shalltear, Cocytus, Aura, Mare Demiurge and Albedo ought to be getting more,
right? Which means I’ll have to multiply that by six. Ah, it can’t be helped. I can’t
make that much money.”
Ainz grabbed his head in contemplation, and then his eyes shot open.
“Got it! I just need to pay them with something else! Maybe I could issue
Nazarick-only bills — like play money, perhaps — and then fix their value at
100,000 apiece. That would do it!”
But after shouting that, Ainz’s face twisted again.
How would he make everyone use these bills?
All the facilities in the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick were free of
charge. Even if he did print those bills, he had no idea where to begin using them.
“What if they were used to buy items from this world?”
After comparing the goods of this world to those of Nazarick, he could not
help but wonder who would even want to buy things from the outside world.
“These facilities have been free until now, but if I start charging for them, I’d
be putting the cart before the horse… what should I do?”
After pondering for a while more, Ainz hit on another bright idea.
“Got it! I’ll ask the Guardians to think of something. All I need to do is ask
them what they’d be willing to spend money on. That ought to do it!”
Just as Ainz was muttering, “What a great idea” to himself, his face turned
sour again.
“Still…”
I’m talking to myself more and more, Ainz thought.
While all this had still been a game, he knew he had been talking to himself a
lot because there was nobody else around. However, now that the NPCs had
gained sapience, will and self-direction, he was still talking to himself. Why was
that?
Was it because it had become a habit? Or was it because—
“Because I’m still alone, huh…”
Ainz laughed in loneliness.
Of course, he was surrounded by sapient NPCs, so it was hard to say that he
was truly alone. However, he still felt that way. Perhaps he was busy erasing the
personality of Suzuki Satoru in order to play the role of Ainz Ooal Gown, the
coordinator of the 41 Supreme Beings, whom the Guardians wanted.
Ainz sighed, and as he looked back at the coins on his desk, he heard a
knocking on the door.
After a short while, the door opened. Once he had verified that it was the
person he had expected — Narberal Gamma — Ainz put on a face.
 Right now, the corner of Ainz’s mouth was curled up, as though he were
looking down on her.
The low-level illusion which Ainz was using reflected his thoughts, so it might
occasionally display an expression which did not fit the ruler of the Great
Underground Tomb of Nazarick. Therefore, whenever someone else was
around, and particularly in front of Narberal, he typically put on an expression
which made him seem like a stern and dignified ruler. He had practiced it before
the mirror many times, honing that expression to perfection.
“What is it, Nabe?”
His voice was the same faked one he always had.
“Yes, Momon sa—n.”
“There’s the old habit again. Whenever I remind you, you change for a while,
so I guess I should give up on that, huh. Ahhh, no need to bow. I’m not angry,
and the fact that you show respect to me… well, that’s fine too. The Guildmaster
and the others seem to have gotten the wrong impression, so it’s fine. Now then,
what are you here for?”
“Yes. It concerns the ore which you ordered the merchants to find, Momon-
san.”
I didn’t give any orders, it was just business, Ainz grumbled inside his heart. That
said, the stern expression on his face remained unmoved.
“Really now… Which location are we talking about? Have they gathered
samples from all eight places?”
“My deepest apologies, but I did not ask that much.”
“…Never mind, then. We have money. Even if we don’t know where they came
from, we should be able to buy them all up.”
Ainz grandly swept the coins on the desk into a pouch and tossed it to
Narberal. He watched as she decorously picked up the pouch of money.
“Understood. However, may I be permitted a question?”
“Why I’m purchasing ore from various locations?”
Narberal nodded, and Ainz explained.
“I intend to throw them into the Exchange Box. Simply put, I wish to see if
the money I get from the ores changes with the location.”
The Exchange Box should not be affected by such things. For instance, even
an exquisitely carved statue would only count the same as an unworked lump of
the same material when fed into the Exchange Box. That being the case, what if
the composition — the intrinsic quality of the material varied? That was why he
had purchased all those ores.
“Nabe, you know that I managed to fix a price by throwing grain into the box.”
I had to throw in quite a pile of grain before getting one measly coin, Ainz grumbled
in his heart.
If that were the case, all he had to do was commence mass production. Thus,
he had considered breaking ground on grain farms outside Nazarick, manned by
undead or golems in order to tend large farms. Of course, actually executing that
plan presented a mountain of problems in its own right.
“Understood. Then I shall make the purchases immediately.”
“Mm. However, be careful. We can’t guarantee nobody will make a move on
you. If anything happens… You understand, right?”
“I will use the Shadow Demon as a meatshield. I will not think about obtaining
information and prioritize safety by retreating with all due haste. I will then
teleport to Aura-sama’s fake Nazarick to deceive the foe.”
“Very good. Pay attention to safety and do not travel in secluded areas or take
routes which make you vulnerable to attack. Also, do not beat people half to
death if they bother you or try and chat you up. In all honesty, I was quite
surprised when that man wept and begged me to save him and said he was only
trying to flirt with you. Also, you are not to project your murderous intentions
everywhere. Crushing pickpockets’ hands might be acceptable, but do not do it
all the time. Also, do not, under any circumstances, refer to humans as insects.
Simply put, keep your injurious impulses in check after all, we are Momon and
Nabe, the highest-ranking adventurers known as ‘Darkness.’”
Once he saw Narberal indicate that she understood, Ainz felt that there was
nothing else to remind her about, and nodded.
“…Mm. That should be it. Go then, Nabe.”
Still holding the pouch, Narberal bowed before leaving the room. As Ainz
watched her leave, he sighed deeply, despite his lack of lungs.
“…To think I have to make expenditures while I’m low on cash. What a pain.”
Chapter 3 The Finders and the Found
 Chapter 3 | The Finders and the Found

Middle Fire Month, 26th Day – 15:27

After sending the old lady home, Sebas continued on to his original
destination.
He came to a long stretch of wall.
Three towers — each five stories tall — rose from within those walls. Their
height was made even more imposing by the fact that they were the tallest
buildings around.
These towers were surrounded by several long and narrow two-story
buildings.
This was the headquarters of the Kingdom’s Magicians’ Guild. They needed
ample space for the development of new spells and the training of arcane magic
casters. The reason why they could afford all this land despite having practically
no national support was probably due to their manufacture and sale of magic
items.
After walking a little further, he saw a sturdy gate. The latticed gate yawned
open, and on either side of it were several armed guards, stationed near the two-
story buildings.
The guards did not obstruct Sebas — although they quickly looked him over—
and he passed through the gate.
There was a gently sloping wide staircase before him, and a set of doors which
opened into a distinguished-looking detached house. Naturally, these doors
were open, to welcome visitors.
Upon entering, he found himself in a small entrance hall, with the building’s
lobby before him. A number of magical chandeliers hung down from the high
ceiling of the latter room.
On the right was a guest lounge that contained a sofa and several other pieces
of furniture. There were magic casters conversing within. On the left was a
notice board. Several people were studying it in earnest; some wore robes and
looked like arcane magic casters, while others seemed to be adventurers.
There was a counter in the innermost reaches of the hall, and there were
several young men and women seated behind it. All of them wore robes, and they
had badges on their chests which matched the symbol he had seen while entering
the building.
On either side of the counter stood a pair of skinny wooden dolls, of the kind
used for sketching. They were the size of actual humans and they had no facial
features — Wood Golems, in other words. Apparently, they were being used as
sentries. The fact that they had not posted any human sentries inside must have
been pride on the part of the Magician’s Guild, the outside sentries
notwithstanding.
Sebas’ shoes pounded out a steady beat as he approached the counter.
The young man at the counter noticed Sebas and greeted him with a look.
Sebas nodded in return. He was a frequent customer here, so both of them were
familiar with each other.
“Welcome to the Magician’s Guild, Sebas-sama. How may I help you today?”
“Yes, I’d like to buy a spell scroll. May I consult the usual list?”
“Certainly.”
The youth quickly brought a large tome to the counter. He must have gotten
it ready when he noticed Sebas approaching.
The pages of the book were made of high-quality paper that was thin and
white as snow, while its cover was made of leather. The overall article was of
exquisite construction. The letters upon the cover were imprinted in gold, and
the cost of this book alone probably beggared belief.
Sebas brought the book over to himself and paged through it.
Regretfully, Sebas did not understand the words written upon it. Or rather, it
might be better to say that beings from Yggdrasil were unable to comprehend
them. Despite the bizarre principle which translated spoken language in this
world, written text was not translated.
However, Sebas’ master had given him a magic item that could solve this
problem.
Sebas produced a spectacle case from his breast pocket and opened it.
A pair of eyeglasses sat within. Its bridge was made of a platinum-like metal,
and at a closer look, it seemed to have been inscribed with tiny characters, or
some kind of textured pattern. The lenses themselves had been ground out of a
crystal that resembled blue ice.
By putting these glasses on, he could understand written text through the
power of magic.
Sebas swiftly yet carefully scanned through the pages, and then he suddenly
froze. He looked away from the book, at the girl beside the youth at the counter,
and gently asked:
“Is something the matter?”
“Ah, it’s nothing…”
The girl blushed and lowered her face.
“I just thought… you looked very handsome.”
“Thank you very much.”
Sebas smiled, and the girl’s face flushed even redder.
Sebas, the white-haired gentleman, was a person who could mesmerize others
on sight. He was good-looking, but the way he carried himself was even more
striking. When he walked on the streets, nine out of ten women — regardless of
age — would turn to take a second look at him. It was no wonder that the counter
girls found themselves entranced by him, and it was also a common occurrence.
Sebas found that understandable, and then turned his eyes back to the tome.
He stopped at a certain page and asked the youth:
“Could you tell me about this spell… [Floating Board], I believe it is called?”
“Certainly.”
The young man began his spiel.
“[Floating Board] is a first-tier spell which creates a translucent floating
platform. The size and carrying capacity of the platform varies with the caster’s
magical power. However, when cast from a scroll, it is limited to a surface of one
square meter and can carry a maximum of 50 kilograms. The created board
moves behind the caster, and can be a maximum of five meters away from him.
Since the [Floating Board] can only follow behind the caster, it cannot be made
to move in front of the caster. Should the caster turn around, the board will
slowly move to his back. It is primarily a transportation spell and can commonly
be seen during earthworks.”
“I see,” Sebas nodded. “Then I’ll take a scroll of this spell.”
“Of course.”
The young man was not surprised by the fact that Sebas had selected a low-
demand spell like this. After all, just about all the scrolls Sebas had purchased
were for unpopular spells like this. Besides, being able to empty surplus stocks
was a godsend for the Magician’s Guild.
“Will one scroll be enough?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
The youth gestured to a man sitting nearby.
The man — who had been listening on their conversation — immediately rose
to his feet and opened a door leading into a room behind the counter, which he
entered. Scrolls were expensive items, and even with guards posted, it would not
do to pile them up on the sales area.
After about five minutes, the man who had left returned. In his hands was a
roll of parchment.
“Your scroll, sir.”
Sebas looked at the scroll on the counter. It was elegantly made, and looked
distinctly different from the paper one could purchase outside. The name of the
spell was written in black ink on the outside of the scroll, and after verifying that
it was the same as the spell he wanted, he removed his glasses.
“Indeed, that is it. I shall take it.”
“Thank you for your patronage,” the young man bowed politely. “As this is a
first-tier spell scroll, that will be one gold and ten silver coins.”
A potion for spells of a similar level would cost two gold coins, so this scroll
was comparatively cheaper. That was because under normal circumstances, spell
scrolls could only be used by magic casters of the same tradition. Thus, it only
made sense that potions would be more expensive, given that they could be used
by anyone.
That said, “comparatively” was the key word here. One gold and ten silver
coins was very expensive for an average person; equivalent to about half a
month’s wages. However, to Sebas — or rather, his master — it was a trivial
expense.
Sebas then produced a pouch from safekeeping. He opened it, withdrew 11
coins, and handed them to the youth.
“I have received the correct amount.”
The young man did not test the money’s authenticity in front of Sebas. Their
transactions thus far had earned Sebas that much trust.

“That old man’s really handsome!”

“Mm!”
Debate broke out among the counter staff — especially the ladies — once
Sebas had left the Magician’s Guild.
They were no longer wise women, but lovestruck girls who had just met their
Prince Charming. One of the men seated at the counter frowned and his face
turned sour, but he too had felt Sebas’ cultured presence and so he kept quiet.
“He must have had experience serving some great noble. I wouldn’t be
surprised if he was a noble himself, the third son of some minor lord or
something.”
It was a common thing for noble children who could not inherit the estate to
become butlers or maids. Noble families of higher rank would tend to hire more
people from such backgrounds. After witnessing Sebas’ noble bearing, they
could accept the fact that Sebas was highborn himself.
“Every little thing he does is elegant, from the way he stands to the way he
moves.”
Everyone seated at the counter could not help but nod.
“If he asked me out for tea, I’d definitely accept.”
“Mm! Me too! Me too! I’d definitely go too!”
The ladies squealed and cooed one after the other. They talked about where
the good cafes were and then about how he would be perfect as their escort. The
men looked at them from the side, and they began talking too.
“He looks really learned. You think he’s a magic caster too?”
“Beats me, but he might be.”
 The spells Sebas bought had all been recently developed. That implied a broad
familiarity with magic. If he had been ordered to buy a scroll, he could have
simply asked the counter staff directly, with no need to browse through the
catalog. The fact that Sebas had paged through the tome was a sign that he was
making the decisions on what spells to buy.
This was not something any ordinary old man could do. In other words, they
could surmise that he had received a specialist education in magic — that he was
a magic caster.
“And then there’s his spectacles… they look expensive.”
“Are they a magic item?”
“I doubt it, they should just be masterwork glasses, right? Made by the
Dwarves, I think.”
“Hmm, that’s amazing, owning a pair of glasses like that.”
“I’d like to see the beautiful girl he came with once,” one of the men muttered.
The response from beside them was a wave of disapproval.
“Eh, that woman’s probably nothing but her looks.”
“Mm, I felt so sorry for Sebas-san then. She was giving him the old run-
around.”
“She looks pretty, but she definitely has a terrible personality. Did you see the
disgusting way she was looking at us? I feel sorry for Sebas-san, having to serve
such a person.”
The men did not dare respond after hearing the ladies criticize a fellow
female. Sebas’ mistress was a ravishing beauty, and she had stolen their hearts
in an instant. The ladies beside them had also been handpicked as the face of the
Magician’s Guild, but comparing them to that woman was like comparing the
moon to a turtle crawling around in the mud. The men wanted to tell the ladies
not to be so jealous, but it was clear what would happen if they actually spoke
those words out loud.
None of the men was stupid enough to do that. Therefore—
“Alright, enough chitchat.”
The young man’s words cut through their chatter as an adventurer
approached the counter. Everyone’s faces turned serious, and they set to work
in earnest.

●
 Middle Fire Month, 26th Day – 16:06
After leaving the Magician’s Guild, Sebas looked to the sky.
Sending the old lady home had made him go over his planned time, and the
sky was slowly turning a madder red. After glancing at the watch he had taken
out of his breast pocket, he knew that it was time to return home. However, the
day’s business had not been finished yet. Since those matters could be delayed
until tomorrow, should he not do so? Or should he stick to the plan and finish
up his agenda by today, even though it would cause him to go into overtime?
He only hesitated for a moment.
The matter of the old lady was his own decision. Thus, he ought to fulfill his
tasks.
“「—Shadow Demon.」”
A seething presence emerged from Sebas’ shadow.
“Inform Solution I will be a little late. That is all.”
There was no response, but the presence began moving. It flitted from shadow
to shadow and gradually drew away.
“Alright,” Sebas muttered, and began moving.
He had no destination in mind. Sebas was going to fully familiarize himself
with the layout of the Royal Capital. His master had not ordered him to do so —
he had simply chosen to move independently as part of his intelligence-
gathering duties.
“Then, I shall head over there today.”
After muttering to himself and grooming his beard, Sebas twirled the scroll
he was holding in one hand. He looked like a delighted child as he did so.
He headed ever forward, drawing away from the central district of the Royal
Capital, where it was still safe.
After turning several corners, the alleys started to feel dirtier, and a faint
stench lingered on the air, the stench of fresh garbage and other wastes. It felt
as though it would physically stain his clothes, and Sebas walked on in silence.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks and surveyed his surroundings. It would
seem he had entered a very secluded back alley, so cramped that people would
have to squeeze past each other in passing.
It was hard to move through these narrow alleys, where the light of the setting
sun was blocked by the tall buildings all around and the footing was atrocious.
However, it posed no obstacle to Sebas. He walked on in silence and concealing
his presence, as though he had melted into the shadows.
Sebas turned several more corners as he headed towards an even more
sparsely populated region, and then his confident, unhesitating stride suddenly
ground to a halt.
His aimless wanderings had brought him here, and he realized that he had
come a long way from his home base. Sebas’ instincts had largely grasped his
location, and he mentally traced the route from his home base to this place.
Given Sebas’ physical attributes, he could have covered the distance in a
straight line. It would take quite a while for him if he had to walk normally. Now
that night was looming, it was probably time to go back.
He was not concerned about the safety of Solution, with whom he lived.
Even if a powerful enemy appeared, Solution still had a monster in her
shadow, much like Sebas had. She ought to be able to buy time to retreat by using
it as a meatshield. That said—
“…Should I go back?”
In all honesty, he wanted to continue walking, but wasting time on an activity
which was half-leisure would not be permitted. Still, even if he was to return
home, he could at least see what was in front of him. He continued walking
through the narrow alleys.
As Sebas forged silently ahead in the darkness, he saw a heavy steel door in
front of him — about 15 meters away — suddenly creak to life as it opened, and
light leaked out from within. Sebas stopped and watched silently.
Once the door had fully opened, someone poked their head out. The
backlighting only allowed Sebas to see his silhouette, but the person was
probably a man. Said man looked around, but he did not notice Sebas, and shrank
back inside.
There was a thump as a large sack hit the ground outside. Illuminated by the
light from inside, Sebas could see that the soft object inside had changed shape
from the fall.
The door was still open, but the person throwing out the large sack of what
was apparently garbage seemed to have gone back indoors, and there were no
movements for a while.
Sebas frowned, debating over whether to move ahead or go in another
direction. Sticking his nose into this would probably lead to trouble.
After hesitating briefly, he continued his silent advance along the dark,
narrow alley.
“—Let’s go.”
The mouth of the sack sagged open.
Sebas’ shoes scraped along the ground, and he soon drew near the sack.
Just as he was about to pass it, he stopped in his tracks.
Sebas felt something had caught onto his pants. Looking down, Sebas saw
what he had expected.
A slender arm, like a withered branch reached out from within the sack,
grabbing onto the leg of his pants. The half-naked body of a woman appeared
from within—
This was when the sack opened fully, exposing the woman’s upper body.
Her blue eyes were dark, clouded over and empty of life. Her shoulder-length
hair was messy, with split ends from malnutrition. Her face was swollen like a
ball from beatings, and there were numerous pale red spots all over her dried-
out, bark-like skin.
She was a desiccated bag of bones, with hardly any vitality left in her.
Surely that must be a corpse. No — she still drew breath. The hand grasping
Sebas’ pant leg was the best sign of that. However, if all she could do was breathe,
did that truly qualify as living?
“…Could you please let go?”
The girl did not respond to Sebas’ words. It was readily apparent that she was
not ignoring him. After all, her eyelids were so swollen that they were only
separated by a thin slit. The cloudy pupils which seemed to be peering at the sky
from within could not see anything at all.
All Sebas would have to do was move his leg and he would be able to shrug off
those fingers, which could not even begin to compare to dried-out twigs.
However, he did not. Instead, he continued asking:
“…Are you in difficulty? If so—”
“—Oi, old man. Where the fuck did you come from?”
Sebas was interrupted by a low, brutish voice.
A man appeared from behind the door. His arms and chest bulged with
muscle. His scarred face clearly displayed his hostility, and he glared hatefully at
Sebas. The lantern he was holding emitted a red light.
“Oi oi oi, the fuck you looking at, old man?”
The man clicked his tongue with exaggerated deliberation, and then jerked his
chin at Sebas.
 “Fuck right off, old man. While you’re still in one piece.”
Seeing that Sebas remained still, the man took a step forward. The door
slammed shut behind him with a ponderous thud. The man slowly placed the
lantern by his feet with an intimidating swagger.
“Oi! You deaf, old man?”
He worked his shoulders and cracked his neck. Then he slowly raised his right
hand and clenched it into a fist. He was clearly not afraid to use violence.
“Hm…”
Sebas smiled. Coming from an aged gentleman like Sebas, that dignified smile
clearly displayed a matchless calm and compassion. Yet, for some reason, the
man stepped back as though a ferocious carnivore had appeared before him.
“Uh… uh, uh, what’re you—”
Shaken by Sebas’ smile, the man could not finish the words he was trying to
form. He staggered back, without realizing how heavily he was panting.
Sebas tucked the scroll — marked with the sigil of the Magician’s Guild —
that he had been holding into his belt. Then he took a single step forward, closing
the gap to the man, and extended a hand. The man could not even react to that
movement. With a silent whisper, the hand holding on to Sebas’ pants fell to the
floor of the alley.
That seemed to be the signal for Sebas to seize the man by the lapels — and
then he easily lifted his body off the ground.
Anybody seeing this would surely wonder if this was some kind of joke.
Just going by appearances, there was no chance Sebas could take this man in
a fight. Be it in terms of age, musculature, his thick arms, height, mass, and the
aura of violence around him, the younger man had the advantage.
And yet, this distinguished old gentleman was lifting up this heavyweight with
one hand.
—No, that was not the case. Perhaps an eyewitness would be able to sense the
difference between the two of them. While humans had poor instincts, they
could still sense a sufficiently great difference between two parties.
The difference between Sebas and this man was—
The difference between an absolute superior and an utter inferior.
The other man — who had been lifted completely off the ground — flailed his
legs and twisted his body. Then, when he thought to take Sebas’ hand in both of
his own, his eyes filled with fear as he realized something.
He finally realized that the man before him was nothing like what his
appearance suggested. He also realized that pointless resistance would only
serve to anger the monster before him.
“What is she?”
As the man began stiffening in fear, that cold voice bored its way into his ears.
That voice was as clear and quiet as a softly flowing brook. The sheer contrast
with the hand that was easily lifting him up only heightened the man’s fear.
“She, she’s a worker in our place,” the man replied, his voice off-key from
panic.
“I asked you what she was. And your answer is that she is a worker?”
The man wondered if he had said the wrong thing. However, it was the best
answer he could have given under the present circumstances. The man’s eyes
were wide in fear, trembling like those of a frightened little animal.
“It’s nothing. It’s just that some of my colleagues view humans as objects, so
I believed that you too viewed people as objects. If you held that point of view,
then you would not consider yourself to have done something wrong. However,
you answered that she was a worker. In other words, you considered her a human
being. Am I correct? Then, allow me another question. What were you going to
do with her?”
The man thought for a moment. However—
One could almost hear the squeezing.
Sebas’ grip intensified, and the man was briefly breathless.
“—Uggghhh!”
Sebas tightened his grip on the man, making it harder for him to breathe, and
the man gave off a queer wail. Sebas was sending a message: “I won’t give you time
to think — answer now.”
“She, she was sick, so I was taking her to a temple—”
“—I do not like being lied to.”
“Aiiiieee!”
Sebas’ grip grew even stronger, and the man’s face flushed red as a cry leaked
out of his throat. However generous he might have been by discounting the fact
that he had put someone into a sack for transport, the man’s actions of dumping
said sack into an alley did not feel like he was taking a sick person to the temple
for treatment. It was just like disposing of rubbish.
“Please… stop…”
The man was having trouble breathing. He thrashed wildly as he realized the
mortal danger he was in.
 Sebas casually blocked the fist headed at his face with one hand. The flailing
legs hit Sebas body and dirtied his clothes, but Sebas was as stoic as the
mountains.
—But of course.
How could a mere human’s legs move a massive slab of iron? Even after taking
a square hit, Sebas simply dusted himself off and nonchalantly said:
“I advise you to tell the truth.”
“Gahhhh—”
The man was unable to breathe, and Sebas narrowed his eyes at the man’s
crimson face. He let go of the man just before he had passed out.
With a great thump, the man fell to the alley floor.
“G-guwaaargh!”
The main expelled the last dregs of air within himself as a gasped cry, and then
greedily drank in the fresh air in big gulps. Sebas continued looking down on him
in silence. Then he reached out for his throat again.
“W-wait… p-please, wait!”
Having personally experienced the terrors of oxygen deprivation, the man
scrambled away from Sebas’ hand.
“The tem— that’s right! I was taking her to the temple!”
Is he still lying? To think his will is so strong…
Sebas had thought that the man would immediately come clean out of fear for
his life. However, the man might have been afraid, but he did not look like he
was going to talk right away. In other words, the danger of letting that
information slip was on par with Sebas’ intimidation.
Sebas considered if he should change his plan of attack. This was enemy
territory. The fact that the man had not cried out to whoever was behind the
door for help indicated that he did not expect someone to rescue him
immediately. That said, staying here for too long would only lead to more
trouble.
His master had not ordered him to cause trouble. His orders were to blend
into society and covertly gather intelligence.
“If you’re taking her to the temple, then allow me to do so. I will guarantee
her safety.”
The man gulped and his eyes quivered. Then he frantically tried to cobble an
excuse together.
“…There’s no guarantee you’ll really take her there.”
 “Then you can come with me.”
“I’m busy now, so I can’t go. I’ll take her later.”
The man seemed to have sensed something from Sebas’ expression, and he
hurriedly continued:
“She belongs to us by law! If you step in, you’ll be breaking the country’s laws!
And if you dare take her away, that’ll be kidnapping!”
Sebas froze, and frowned for the first time.
The man had played on his greatest weakness.
While his master had said that he could take overt action when the situation
called for it, that was only when he was playing the role of a butler caring for his
mistress.
Breaking the law would lead to an investigation, and possibly even lead to
their disguise being pierced. In other words, doing so might lead to major and
obvious repercussions, which his master would not smile upon.
Sebas did not think this brute of a man was very learned, but his voice was
filled with confidence. In other words, someone must have taught him a little
about the law. That being the case, there might be some factual basis to his
declaration.
Since there were no witnesses, the answer was simple; violence. He would
simply become another corpse here with a broken neck.
However, that was a last resort; something he could only do in direct service
to his master’s goals. He could not raise his hand to strike for a girl he had
encountered by chance.
That said, was it right to just abandon this woman?
As Sebas hesitated, the man’s crude laughter filled him with anger.
“Oh faithful butler-sama, are you really going to deceive your master and
cause trouble?”
For the first time, Sebas’ brow knitted in visible frustration as he took in the
man’s mirthful expression. Perhaps the man had grasped his weakness from that
display of his.
“I don’t know which noble you serve, but won’t you cause trouble for your
master if things get blown up? And who knows, your master might have ties with
our establishment. Not afraid of being scolded?”
“…Do you really think my master could not resolve a matter of this
magnitude? Rules exist to be broken by the strong, no?”
That seemed to have gotten through to the man, and fear flashed across his
face for a moment. However, he recovered his confidence almost immediately.
“…Why don’t you give it a try, then?”
“…Hmph.”
Sebas’ bluff had not worked on the man. He must have some kind of powerful
backing. Judging that this approach was not effective, Sebas decided to change
tack.
“…I see. Indeed, it would be quite troublesome in a legal sense. However,
there is also a law which states that if someone asks for help, one can render said
help without fear of legal consequences. I was merely acting in accordance with
that law. For starters, she is currently unconscious, so she ought to be taken to
the temple for treatment. Am I wrong?”
“Er… No… this…”
The man muttered to himself as he racked his brains.
His mask had fallen.
Sebas breathed a sigh of relief at the man’s poor acting skills and his slow
reactions. Sebas had just told a whopper of a lie. Since his opposition had
decided to try and use the law against him, Sebas had in turn thrown a wall of
legal mumbo-jumbo back his way.
If the man had continued to argue using the law — even if he was only lying
— Sebas and his inadequate grasp of the Kingdom’s laws would not have had an
answer for him. However, the man did not understand the law and was only
parroting what he had heard, so he could not see through Sebas’ lies.
In addition, his lack of legal knowledge meant that he had no response when
someone else used the law to argue against him. In addition, this man was
probably someone’s minion, so he should not be able to make decisions of his
own.
Sebas turned away from the man and cradled the woman’s head.
“Do you want me to rescue you?” Sebas asked, before bringing his ear close to
the woman’s cracked lips.
All he could hear was the sound of faint breathing. No, it was more like the
last gasp from a deflated balloon. Did a sound like that even count as breathing?
There was no response. Sebas shook his head and asked again:
“Do you want me to rescue you?”
Saving this girl was completely different from helping that old lady. Sebas
wanted to help as many people around him as he could, but saving this girl might
incur tremendous hassle. Would the Supreme One understand why he had done
this? Was this not a violation of His will? A cold gust blew through his heart as
he contemplated that point.
There was still no response.
A faint yet crude smile crept back onto the man’s face.
Given that he knew what sort of living hell she had been through, it was
obvious why he was sneering. Otherwise, why would he have thrown her outside,
ready for disposal?
Good luck did not repeat itself, because regularly occurring phenomena could
not be considered good luck.
Indeed, if one considered her grabbing of Sebas’ pants to be good luck, then
she would not have any more.
—In her case, her sole piece of good fortune was the fact that Sebas had
stepped into this alley, and it was now over. Everything else all rested on how
much she wanted to survive.
That was not luck.
—Faintly.
Yes. The girl’s lips moved faintly. It was not the natural movement of
breathing. It was a willed, conscious action.
“—”
Sebas’ only response to hearing those words was a big nod.
“I do not believe in helping those who can only pray for others to save them.
Like some plant, waiting for the rain to shower down upon them from the
heavens… However… if you struggle and strive to live…”
Sebas’ fingers moved slowly to shut the girl’s eyes.
“Do not be afraid. Rest. You are under my protection now.”
The girl closed her clouded eyes, as though wrapped in a warm shroud of
compassion.
The other man could not believe what he had just seen, and so he blurted out
the first thing that came to mind.
“It can’t be—”
I didn’t hear anything, the man wanted to say, but he was frozen in place.
“Are you calling me… a liar?”
He did not know when Sebas had stood up, but now his razor-sharp gaze
transfixed the man.
Those were fearsome eyes.
Those vicious eyes stopped the man’s breathing, as though they possessed the
ability to physically crush his heart within his chest.
“Are you saying I would tell a lie for the likes of you?”
“Ah, no, ah…”
The man’s throat croaked, and then he gulped. His eyes moved, fixating on
Sebas’ arms. He must have remembered the consequences of getting carried
away.
“Then, I’ll be taking her with me.”
“Ah, wait! No, please wait!” the man shouted. Sebas glanced at him out of the
corner of his eye.
“What is it now? Trying to buy more time?”
“No, that’s not it. It’s more like, if you take her away, things will be very bad.
You’ll be inviting disaster upon you and your master! Have you heard of Eight
Fingers?”
Sebas had heard that name during his intelligence gathering. They were a
criminal organization which ruled the Kingdom from the shadows.
“So won’t you help me out here? Please pretend you didn’t see anything. If
you take her away, they’ll count it as a failure on my part and they’ll punish me.”
Seeing that the man was trying to cajole him now that the use of force had
failed, Sebas glared icily at him and spoke in equally frigid tones:
“I’m taking her with me.”
“Come on, give me a break, man! They’ll kill me!”
I might as well kill him now, Sebas mused. The man was still weeping as Sebas
weighed the pros and cons of ending the man’s life.
Sebas had originally thought the man was just trying to buy time for help to
arrive, but that ought not to be the case given his attitude. However, he could
not think of a reason otherwise.
“Why did you not call for help?”
The man’s eyes went wide in shock, and then he hastily answered.
The long and short of it was that if the woman got away while he was calling
for help. It would essentially be telling his people that he had made an
unforgivable mistake. In addition, he did not think he could beat Sebas even if
he called his colleagues over to help. That was why he was trying to persuade
Sebas to change his mind.
Even Sebas could not muster up his motivation in front of that utterly
pathetic attitude, and his killing intent vanished. That said, he still did not
intend to give the girl over to the man. That being the case—
 “…Then why don’t you run away?
“Please be reasonable. Where would I get the money to run?”
“I do not consider money to be more important than life. However… I shall
provide in that respect.”
The man’s face lit up at Sebas’ words.
Perhaps killing him really would be safer, but at the same time, letting him
flee with all his strength might be able to buy them some time. He had to use
that time to treat her and bring her somewhere safe.
More to the point, killing him here might lead others to search for her, since
she would be missing.
In addition, it might cause problems for the people close to her, given that he
did not know the circumstances which had led to her present state.
At this point, Sebas began wondering why he had even started on this
dangerous course in the first place.
The truth was that he did not understand the stirrings in his heart which had
led him to rescue this woman. Just about any other denizen of Nazarick would
have ignored her to avoid getting involved in troublesome matters. They would
have packed up and left this place.
—Saving someone in trouble is common sense.
Sebas decided to ignore that phrase which had inexplicably surfaced in his
heart and said:
“Take this, hire an adventurer and flee.”
Sebas took out a pouch. The man looked at it, doubt in his eyes. The sight of
such a small pouch was probably not very reassuring.
In the next moment, the man’s eyes followed the coins which fell to the alley’s
floor, fixated on that silver-like radiance. Those were platinum coins rolling
around on the ground, ten of them in all, each worth ten times as much as gold.
“Run away with all your strength, understand? Also, I have some questions for
you. Do you have time to answer them?”
“Ah, it’s fine. I’ve already told them that I’ll be heading out to disp— to take
her to the temple. I should be able to spare some time.”
“I understand. Walk with me, then.”
With that, Sebas raised his chin to indicate the man should follow. Then he
picked up the girl and strode forth.
 2

Middle Fire Month, 26th Day – 18:58

Sebas currently resided in a high-end residential district of the Royal Capital
with good security.
This particular dwelling was smaller than the mansions on either side, as
though it were built as a home for the servants of the families which inhabited
the surrounding buildings. However, it was still too large for Sebas and Solution
alone.
They had rented such a large place for a reason, of course; since they were
posing as members of a wealthy household from afar, they could not possibly
live in a run-down old house. For that reason — and because they did not have
any credentials to present or any connections — they had to pay several times
more than the going price to the builder’s union when leasing the home. In
addition, they had to pay in one lump sum, which amounted to quite a large
expense.
Sebas received a prompt reception when he arrived at the house and walked
in the front door. That someone was dressed in white; she was one of Sebas’
subordinates, Solution Epsilon of the Pleiades battle maids. The house’s other
residents included Shadow Demons and Gargoyles, but they were assigned to
sentry duties and would not come out to meet him.
“Welcome bac—”
Solution cut her words off mid-speech, and she had even frozen mid-bow. She
glared at the object Sebas was carrying with eyes that were colder than usual.
“…Sebas-sama, what is that?”
 “I picked her up.”
Solution did not reply to that terse answer. However, the air seemed to get
heavier around them.
“…I see. I do not believe it is a present for me, so may I ask how you intend to
dispose of that?”
“Well now. Could you start by healing her wounds?”
“Healing…”
Solution looked at the girl Sebas was holding. Once she understood, she shook
her head and stared at Sebas.
“If that were the case, would it not suffice to bring her to the temple?”
“…Indeed. Silly me, I completely forgot about that…”
Seeing that Sebas was completely unmoved, Solution fixed her cold gaze on
him. Their eyes met for a second, and in the end it was Solution who blinked
first.
“Shall I throw it away, then?”
“No. I’ve brought her back. We should think about how best to handle her.”
“…I understand.”
Solution was the type who lacked expressions of their own, but her face now
could have been used as a mask. Even Sebas could not read the emotions
dwelling within her eyes. All he could tell was that Solution was thoroughly
displeased with the present circumstances.
“Could you please perform a health examination on her?
“I understand. Then, I shall immediately…”
“Isn’t that too…”
The girl meant nothing to Solution, but even so, giving her a checkup at the
front door was hardly a good thing.
“There ought to be a spare room inside. Could you perform the examination
there?”
Solution nodded silently by way of reply.
Neither of them spoke as they brought the girl to the guest room. Granted,
Sebas and Solution had never been the type for conversation, but that did not
explain the awkwardness between them.
Solution opened the door for Sebas, who was holding the girl in both hands.
The heavy curtains were closed and so the room was dark, but it did not feel
stuffy in the least. The door had been opened many times before, so the air inside
was fresh, and the interior was spotlessly clean.
 The room itself was lit by thin ribbons of moonlight streaming in between the
gap in the curtains. After entering, Sebas gingerly laid the girl down upon the
clean sheets of the bed within.
He had infused the girl with Ki, and performed some basic healing. However,
she remained as motionless as a corpse.
“Then…”
Solution carelessly stripped the girl of the cloth which covered her, revealing
a bruised and battered body. That ghastly sight should have made for difficult
viewing, but Solution’s expression was unchanged, and she had a dull,
disinterested look in her eyes.
“…Solution, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
With that, Sebas left the room. Solution did not look like she wanted to call
him back as she began her diagnosis.
Now that he was in the corridor, he should not have heard Solution as she
quietly said:
“How foolish.”
Her mumblings vanished into the corridor, and naturally nobody replied to
them.
Sebas stroked his beard without thinking about it. Why had he saved that girl?
Even he could not explain why.
Was it pity?
No, that was not it. Why had he saved her?
Sebas was a butler, and he was also in charge of Nazarick’s manservants. His
loyalty belonged to each of the 41 Supreme Beings. He owed his faithful service
to the Guildmaster who had taken the name of Ainz Ooal Gown.
His loyalty was genuine. He could confidently say that he would gladly throw
his life away in service to the Supreme One.
However… if, hypothetically speaking, he had to choose only one of the 41
Supreme Beings to obey, Sebas would pick the man called Touch Me without
hesitation.

He was the mightiest being in Ainz Ooal Gown, and the one who had made
Sebas. He was a World Champion and an incomparable figure of fame.
 The guild had primarily flourished by PKing. Who would dare believe that
Touch Me, of the Original Nine, had founded the group which predated the guild
in order to protect the weak? Yet, that was the truth.
When Momonga had been repeatedly PKed and nearly quit the game in anger,
it was Touch Me who had saved him. When Bukubukuchagama could not find
anyone to adventure with her due to her looks, it was Touch Me who had reached
out to her.

The lingering will of that man was the invisible chain which now bound Sebas.
“Could this be considered a curse…”
Those words were terribly rude. If any of the other beings who served Ainz
Ooal Gown — who had been created by the 41 Supreme Beings — were present
and heard these words, they might have well attacked him on the spot for his
lack of respect.
“It is wrong to show pity and offer aid to those who do not belong to Ainz
Ooal Gown,” Sebas muttered grimly.
That was only to be expected.
Every member of Nazarick — save those who had been programmed
otherwise by the 41 Supreme Beings, like the Head Maid, Pestonya S. Wanko —
firmly believed that abandoning those who did not belong to Ainz Ooal Gown
was the right course of action.
For instance, he had once heard from Solution that one of her fellow battle
maids (Pleiades) — Lupusregina — got along very well with a girl from Carne
Village. However, Sebas was abundantly aware that if anything arose,
Lupusregina would cast that girl aside without hesitation.
That was not because she was cruel.
If the Supreme Beings ordered them to die, they would kill themselves
without delay. If the Supreme Beings ordered someone dead, they would kill
them, even if their target was a friend of theirs. On the other hand, anyone who
did not understand this would receive looks of pity from their comrades.
Making a decision based on human — in other words, worthless — sentiments
was the wrong thing to do.
But what about himself? Had he taken the correct course of action?
 Just as Sebas was about to bite through his lip, Solution stepped out of the
room. Her face was still a blank mask.
“How did it go?”
“…She is suffering from syphilis and two other sexually-transmitted diseases.
Several of her ribs and fingers are broken. The tendons on her right arm and left
leg have been severed. Her upper and lower incisors have been pulled out. Her
organ function is diminished and she has a fissured anus. There are signs of drug
addiction. In addition, there are countless traces of contusions and lacerations.
This concludes the basic summary of her condition. Do you require a more
detailed explanation?”
“No, I think not. The important thing is — can she be healed?”
“Easily.”
Sebas had also expected that unhesitating reply.
Healing abilities could even help someone who had all their limbs severed. In
fact, Sebas could use Ki to heal just about any form of physical injury. The truth
was that if he had not been worried about emergencies or the truth getting out,
he could have healed the old lady’s twisted ankle on the spot.
That said, while his Ki could heal physical injuries, it could not help with
poisoning or diseases as well, because Sebas had not learned those skills.
Therefore, he had to ask Solution to help in that aspect.
“I’ll leave it to you, then.”
“If healing magic needs to be used, perhaps it might be better to look up
Pestonya-sama.”
“There’s no need to go to that trouble. Solution, you have a scroll of healing
magic, do you not?”
After seeing Solution nod, Sebas continued:
“Use that, then.”
“…Sebas-sama. That scroll was bestowed upon us by the Supreme One. It
should not be used on a mere human being.”
Indeed. He should have thought of some other way instead. It would be best
to heal her wounds and stabilize her first, before curing her addiction and
disease afterward. However, he did not know if he had the time for that. If she
was dying because of her addiction or diseases, healing her would be an exercise
in futility unless said healing was constantly reapplied.
After thinking about this, Sebas handed out an order to Solution in a voice of
steel, the better to keep anyone from learning his true intentions.
 “Do it.”
Solution narrowed her eyes, and a reddish-black flame seemed to flare in their
depths. However, Solution bowed her head in acknowledgment to hide that
change.
“…I understand. I am to restore that female to a pristine condition — in other
words, I will revert her body to the state it was before she engaged in those
activities. Am I correct?”
After receiving Sebas’ approval, Solution bowed again.
“I shall do so at once.”
“Then, could I trouble you to boil some water and wipe her down after the
treatment? I shall purchase something to eat.”
Nobody here needed to eat and nobody here could cook. Neither did anyone
here possess magic items which eliminated the need to eat. Thus, he had to
obtain food for her.
“…Sebas-sama. Healing the body is a simple task, but… I do not possess the
ability to heal mental traumas.”
Solution paused here and then looked straight at Sebas before continuing.
“If there is a need to heal such traumas, I feel it would be better to ask Ainz-
sama to lend his aid. Will you not ask him to do so?”
“…There is no need to trouble Ainz-sama. We will leave the mental symptoms
for later.”
Solution bowed deeply again. Then she opened the door and entered the
room. As Sebas watched her leave, he slowly leaned against a nearby wall.
How should he deal with her—
The best way was to wait until she had been treated — while the man was
fleeing, for instance — and then take her to where she wanted to go and release
her. He had to pick a location that was sufficiently far away from the Royal
Capital. Telling her to walk out from here would not only be too dangerous but
far too cruel. It would be no help at all.
Still, was all this really the right thing for him — Sebas Tian, butler of Nazarick
— to do?
Sebas sighed heavily.
If only that would allow him to physically expel the worries that had built up
within his heart. However, it did not. His heart was pounding and his thoughts
were a blur.
“How foolish I was. To think that I, Sebas, would do all that for a human
being…”
But no matter how hard he thought, he could not come to a conclusion. Thus,
Sebas decided to stop seeking an answer. Right now, he ought to start by solving
the simple problems. It might only be delaying the inevitable, but this was the
best that Sebas could come up with at the moment.

Solution changed the shape of her finger. The slender digit lengthened,
becoming a syringe-like structure that was several millimeters thick. As a
Shoggoth, Solution had always been able to make great alterations to her shape,
so altering the thickness of her fingers was child’s play.
She glanced at the door, and once she sensed he was no longer outside, she
quietly approached the woman on the bed.
“Since Sebas-sama has approved it, I might as well take care of this unpleasant
business quickly. You would probably prefer it that way, no? Besides, it is not as
though you are aware of it, are you?”
Solution reached inside her body with her untransformed hand and withdrew
a scroll stored within herself.
That scroll was not the only item Solution had concealed within herself. In
addition to scrolls and other expendable magic items, she also contained quite a
number of weapons, armor, and other battle gear. This was nothing out of the
ordinary considering her body could store several human beings.
Solution looked at the unconscious woman.
She was uninterested in her appearance. Only one thought ran through her
mind.
That was — this human doesn’t look like it would taste good.
This body looked like a walking corpse. It probably would not thrash wildly
and delight Solution even if she melted at it with corrosives.
“I could understand Sebas-sama’s intentions if he intended to make her my
toy after she recovered, but this…”
She was familiar with Sebas’ personality, since he was the leader of the
Pleiades battle maids. He would never permit such a thing. After all, he had not
permitted her to capture and eat any humans during their journey, save the ones
who had tried to ambush them.
 “If Sebas-sama had rescued her on orders from the Supreme One, then I
would gladly obey… but is it really worth expending a valuable asset from the
Supreme Beings on a mere human like this?”
Solution shook her head and dispelled those thoughts.
“…Should I eat you before Sebas-sama returns?”
Solution broke the seal and unfurled the scroll. The spell contained within
was called [Heal]. It was a high-end healing magic of the sixth-tier, and it could
restore a great deal of health in addition to healing various diseases and other
abnormal status conditions.
Under normal circumstances, using the magic of the scroll would require
levels in the appropriate job class. In other words, one would need cleric-type
class levels to use clerical spells, which were divine magic. However, certain
thief-type classes had the ability to emulate a class and use magical devices by
“deceiving” them, such as with a scroll.
As an assassin, Solution had levels in several thief-type classes. Thus, she was
able to use this scroll of [Heal], which she would not be able to use otherwise.
“Just in case, I should probably put her to sleep. After that…”
Solution used a skill to synthesize a sleeping poison-cum-muscle relaxant,
which she injected into the girl.

Middle Fire Month, 26th Day – 19:37

Sebas returned from buying food just as Solution stepped out of the room.
She had a steaming bucket in each hand, each of which had several washcloths
inside.
The cloths were filthy and the hot water was black, indicating the unsanitary
conditions that girl had been in.
“Thank you for your efforts. I trust there were no problems with the healing
process…?”
“Yes. It has all been taken care of, and there were no hiccups. However, there
were no clothes for her to wear, so I selected an outfit for her at random. Do you
approve?”
“Of course. That will do.
“I see… The sleeping agent should have worn off by now… but if you have no
further directives, I will be taking my leave.”
“Thank you very much, Solution.”
Solution nodded by way of response, and slipped past Sebas.
After watching her leave, Sebas knocked on the door. There was no response,
but he sensed someone moving inside, so he quietly pushed the door open.
The girl sleeping on the bed had just regained consciousness. She sat up, still
drowsy.
She was completely different from how she had been before.
Her filthy blonde hair now glowed with a beautiful luster. Her emaciated
features had regained their fullness. Her cracked lips were now a healthy pink.
On the whole, she was beautiful, although her looks might be better described
as a soft-spoken prettiness rather than being drop-dead sexy.
Her age was now plain to see. She looked like she was in her late teens,
between 15 to 19, although the shadow on her face from her years in her man-
made hell made her seem older than she actually was.
Solution had given her a white négligée to wear, but it was plain and
unadorned, lacking frills or lace or other such attractive decorations.
“I trust you are completely recovered. How do you feel?”
There was no answer. Her hollow eyes did not seem strong enough to look at
Sebas. However, he did not mind, but continued speaking.
No, the truth was, he had not expected her to answer him. That was because
he could tell that her blank expression belonged to someone who was distracted
and crestfallen.
“Are you hungry? I brought something to eat.”
He had bought the meal from a restaurant, bowl and all.
The porridge in the wooden bowl was made with colored soup stock. It had
some sesame oil in it to taste, and on the whole it radiated a mouthwatering
aroma.
The girl’s face twitched in response to the fragrance.
“Come, help yourself.”
Seeing that the girl had not yet completely withdrawn into her own world,
Sebas placed the wooden bowl and its spoon before the girl.
She did not move, but Sebas did not urge her to eat.
A third party would probably have started to get frustrated at this point. After
a long time had passed, the girl’s hands moved slowly; the movements of one
afraid of being brutally beaten.
 The wounds on the outside had been completely healed, but the pain which
had been branded into her memories still remained.
She picked up the wooden spoon, dipped it into the porridge, then brought it
to her mouth and wolfed it down.
Normal porridge could be very rich and thick. Sebas had asked the storekeeper
to finely slice the 14 different ingredients and then cook them over a slow fire to
make something that could be swallowed without chewing.
Her throat worked, and the porridge slid into her belly.
The girl’s eyes trembled slightly. It was a small movement, but it was
sufficient to convert her from an intricately made doll into a real human being.
Her other hand trembled as it moved to take the bowl from Sebas.
Sebas supported the bowl, shifting it to a place which was easier for her to
reach.
The girl grabbed the bowl to herself, then took scoop after forceful scoop of
the porridge as she devoured it.
If the porridge had not been cooled until it was just right, her frantic feeding
frenzy would probably have scalded her tongue. Broth leaked from her mouth
and stained the blouse of her pajamas, but she did not care. She was more
drinking than eating it.
After finishing the bowl with a speed that was completely unlike her previous
self, the girl held onto the bowl and exhaled deeply.
With her humanity restored, her eyelids closed slowly and ponderously.
The combination of a full belly, fresh clothes and a clean body combined to
soothe her spirit, and she began to feel fatigue kicking in.
However, just as her eyes narrowed into a line, they snapped open and she
curled up into a frightened ball.
Was she afraid to close her eyes, or was she afraid that what she was
experiencing would vanish like a popped bubble? Or was it something else?
Sebas was watching her from the side, but he did not know.
Perhaps even she did not know.
In order to comfort her, Sebas gently said:
“Your body must need sleep. Don’t push yourself and have a good rest. You
will not come to any harm as long as you stay here. I guarantee this — when you
wake up, you will still be in that bed.”
The girl’s eyes moved for the first time and looked directly at Sebas.
Her blue pupils were dull and lacked vitality. However, those were not the
eyes of a corpse, but a living person.
Her small mouth opened — and closed. Then it opened — and closed again.
This repeated itself several times. Sebas watched her tenderly. He did not urge
her to do anything; he simply watched in silence.
“Ah…”
At last, her mouth opened, and several nearly inaudible noises emerged. Then,
she quickly added:
“Thank… thank you.”
The first words she spoke were not to ask about her present circumstances,
but to thank him. Having grasped part of her character from that, Sebas gave her
a genuine smile; not the usual fake one he typically wore.
“It’s fine. Since I have rescued you, I will do my best to guarantee your safety.”
The girl’s eyes widened a bit more, and her mouth began to tremble.
Her blue eyes moistened, and then overflowed. The girl opened her mouth
and then wept piteously.
Soon, he could hear the sound of cursing through the crying.
She cursed her fate. She resented the fact that it had ever existed. She was
filled with hatred that nobody had helped her until now. Her wrath was directed
at Sebas as well.
If only you had saved me earlier. That sort of thing.
After receiving Sebas’ kindness — after being humanely treated, it was as
though part of her had broken down under the strain of everything she had
endured until now. No, perhaps it might be better to say that after having her
humanity restored, she could no longer bear her painful memories.
She tore at her hair, and the strands snapped quietly as she pulled. Countless
golden fibers were tangled around her slender fingers. The porridge bowl and
the spoon rolled to the bed.
Sebas watched silently as she went mad.
Her hatred and curses were directed at the wrong person. She was clearly
looking for a scapegoat. Perhaps said person would be unhappy, maybe even
angry. However, there was no anger on his face. His wrinkles were filled with
kindness.
Sebas leaned forward and hugged her.
It was like a father embracing his child. There was no malice there, only an
unending kindness.
Her body stiffened for a moment. Then, as she realized how different this
embrace was from the men who sought only to violate her flesh, her body slowly
relaxed.
“It’s fine.”
Sebas repeated those words like a mantra, gently patting her on the back, like
he was comforting a crying child.
The girl wailed — and then, as she slowly came to understand what Sebas was
saying, she buried her face into Sebas’ chest and cried all the louder. However,
the context of her tears was slightly different from just now.

She finally managed to stop crying after some time had passed and the front
of Sebas’ clothes had been soaked by her tears. She slowly extricated herself
from Sebas’ arms and lowered her head to hide her blushing face.
“Ah… I’m… sorry…”
“Please, do not worry about it. Being able to offer one’s chest to a lady for
support is a mark of pride for a man.”
Sebas extracted a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to
her.
“Please use this.”
“But… lending… me… this… clean…” the girl asked nervously. Sebas reached
out to cup her chin, then gently raised her face. She had no idea what had
happened, but just as she was freezing up with fear, the handkerchief gently
grazed over her eyes — and the trails of her tears.
This reminds me of the last [Message] conversation Solution had with Shalltear…
Shalltear was apparently quite proud of the fact that Ainz-sama had helped wipe her
tears.
What circumstances would have caused his master to wipe Shalltear’s tears?
He could not imagine Shalltear crying. While his mind was occupied with futile
guessing, his hands worked to clean the girl’s face.
“Ah…”
“Come, please use this,” Sebas said as he stuffed the somewhat damp
handkerchief into her hands. “It is quite sad when a handkerchief goes unused.
Especially when it cannot even dry tears.”
Sebas smiled, and then stepped away from her.
 “Alright. Have a good rest. We will discuss the future and other things when
you wake up.”
There was nothing that magic could not do. Her body had been restored
through Solution’s magical healing, and her mental fatigue had been wiped away.
Thus, she could function normally right away. However, she had still been in hell
up until a few hours ago. Her emotional wounds might well burst open again
after a long conversation.
The truth was that her mind was not completely stable, hence her agonized
weeping just now. Magic could briefly salve that spiritual suffering, but it could
only treat the symptoms and not its cause. Unlike the physical body, the invisible
wounds of the spirit could not be so easily healed.
As far as Sebas knew, the only people who could completely remove her
mental damage were his master or possibly Pestonya S. Wanko.
Sebas wanted to let the girl rest, but she hurriedly replied:
“The future…?”
Sebas did not know if he should continue speaking to her. However, since she
had been the one to initiate conversation, he decided to respond while keeping
an eye on her.
“It will not be safe for you to continue staying in the Royal Capital. Have you
no friends or relatives to turn to?”
The girl hung her head.
“Is that so…”
You don’t have any? But of course, he did not actually say that.
That was troublesome, Sebas thought. However, there was no need to be hasty.
That man would probably not be captured so soon, and learning about Sebas
from him would take some time. He knew he was being optimistic, but by telling
himself that he did not worry, he hoped that such would be the case. At the very
least, he hoped that she would be able to regain her spirits first.
“Alright, then. Can you tell me your name?”
“Ah… I… Tsuare…”
“Tsuare, is it? I have not told you my name yet. I am Sebas Tian, but Sebas will
do. I am the servant of Solution-sama, the Young Mistress of this house.”
That was the cover story.
Solution typically wore her white dress instead of her maid outfit in case they
were surprised by guests. However, he would have to remind her to stay in
character as the manor’s mistress now that Tsuare was in the home.
 “So…tion…san…”
“Yes, Solution Epsilon-sama. Although, I doubt you will have much of a
chance to meet her.”
“…?”
“The Young Mistress can be… hard to deal with at times.”
Sebas closed his mouth, as if to indicate that was all he would say on the
matter. After a brief silence, he spoke once more.
“Alright. Have a good rest today. We’ll discuss the future tomorrow.”
“All… right…”
After verifying that Tsuare was back on the bed, Sebas took the bowl of
porridge and left the room.
When he opened the door, he was not surprised to find Solution standing
there. She was probably eavesdropping on them, but Sebas did not blame her.
Solution did not feel that Sebas would scold her for doing so, so all she did was
mask her presence and stand outside the door. Since she had assassin-type class
levels, she could have done a better job of hiding if she wanted.
“What’s the matter?”
“Sebas-sama. May I ask how you intend to dispose of her?”
Sebas’s attention went to the door behind him. It was thick enough, but not
completely soundproofed. If they spoke here, she would probably be able to pick
up on a bit of their conversation.
Sebas moved from the front of the door, and Solution silently followed behind
him.
Once they had reached a place where he was sure they would not be
overheard, he stopped.
“…You’re referring to Tsuare, I take it. I intend to wait until tomorrow before
deciding what to do.”
“That name…
Solution did not finish that sentence, but she pulled herself together and then
spoke again.
“Perhaps I have overstepped myself, but I feel that thing has a high chance of
impeding our activities. We ought to deal with it as soon as possible.”
Now what exactly could the words “deal with” mean?
After listening to Solution’s cold words, Sebas thought: As I expected. This was
the opinion which a right-thinking, loyal servant of Nazarick — of the 41
Supreme Beings — would have about a non-Nazarick entity. It was Sebas’
attitude towards Tsuare which was abnormal.
“You’re right. If she interferes with the orders Ainz-sama has given us, then I
shall deal with her without delay.”
Solution looked surprised, as if to say: “If you knew that, then why did you do
it?”
“She might have her uses. And since we’ve picked her up, it would be a shame
to just discard her. We need to think of a way to properly utilize her.”
“…Sebas-sama. I do not know where or why you picked it up, but the injuries
it has taken indicate that it comes from a certain background. And do you not
think the person who inflicted those injuries on that human would be unhappy
to know that it was still alive?”
“There should be no problems on that front.”
“…So you mean to say you have already disposed of those people, then?”
“No. That’s not it. If any problems arise, I will take action. Therefore, I hope
you will be able to watch quietly until then. Do you understand, Solution?”
“…I understand.”
Solution swallowed her rising frustration as she watched Sebas leave.
Now that Sebas had said all that to her, she could not say anything even if she
was deeply dissatisfied with his handling of the situation. In addition, she really
could just sit there and watch if nothing cropped up.
That said—
“To think he would use the resources of Nazarick on a mere human…”
All the wealth and resources of Nazarick belonged to Ainz Ooal Gown — in
other words, they belonged to the Supreme One. Was it really alright to expend
them without permission?
She could not come up with an answer no matter how hard she thought.

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 09:48

Sebas opened the main door. As usual, he had gone to the Adventurer’s Guild
in the morning and recorded all the requests on the notice board in his notebook
before the adventurers could take them.
Sebas had committed all the information he had obtained in the Royal Capital
— even street gossip — to paper and then sent it on to Nazarick. Data analysis
was a difficult process, so it was left entirely to the intellectuals of Nazarick to
handle.
He passed through the door and entered the house. Several days ago, Solution
would have come to greet him. However—
“Welcome… back… Sebas…ma.”
This task was now handed to the soft-spoken girl in the maid outfit whose
long skirt covered her legs.
The day after he had picked up Tsuare, there had been a discussion, and it had
been decided that she would work in this house.
They could have treated her as a guest, but Tsuare refused.
She said that she felt uneasy about being treated as a guest on top of being
rescued by Sebas. While it did not properly qualify as repaying his kindness, she
hoped that she could do something to help around the house.
After seeing what her true intentions were, he began to feel uneasy as well.
In other words, she understood that her position here was precarious — that
she was a source of trouble for this home — and so she wanted to work as hard
as she could to avoid being discarded.
Of course, Sebas had told Tsuare that he would not abandon her. If he was the
sort who could discard someone with nobody else to turn to, he would never
have rescued her in the first place. However, he lacked the persuasive power to
heal the wounds in Tsuare’s heart.
“I’m back, Tsuare. Did work go well?”
Tsuare nodded.
Unlike how she had been when they first met, her hair was neatly trimmed
and she wore a little white headdress.
“It went… well.”
“Is that so. That’s good to hear.”
She seemed as gloomy as always and her expression hardly changed, but being
able to live as a human being had gradually eased the fear which gripped her, and
she could speak much more clearly now.
It’s what’s remains that worries me instead…
Sebas walked, and Tsuare walked with him.
Technically speaking, it would be a violation of maidservant etiquette for her
to walk beside Sebas — her superior. However, Tsuare had never been trained
as a maid and did not understand those formalities, and Sebas did not wish to
educate her in such matters.
 “What are we having today?”
“Po… potato… stew…”
“I see. I look forward to that, then. Your food is delicious, Tsuare.”
She blushed and lowered her face as Sebas praised her with a smile. Her hands
nervously grasped at her maid uniform’s apron.
“You, you are too… kind…”
“No, no, I meant that. I know nothing about cooking, so you’ve done me a
great favor. Do you have enough ingredients? Tell me if there’s anything you’d
like me to buy.”
“Yes. I… will ask you… when I do.”
Tsuare could move around normally within the house and in front of Sebas,
but she still had an aversion to the outside world. Since she could not work
outdoors, Sebas had taken on the task of shopping for ingredients and so on.
Tsuare’s cooking was hardly a gourmet spread. She made simple, everyday
dishes.
Since these dishes did not require expensive ingredients, they were easily
obtained at the markets. Sebas had also learned about said ingredients in the
market and the food and beverage of this world, which he considered to be
killing two birds with one stone.
A flash of inspiration suddenly struck Sebas.
“…We’ll go shopping together afterward.”
A look of shock appeared on Tsuare’s face, and then she shook her head
timidly. Her face had turned pale for a moment and she had broken out in a cold
sweat.
“I, I think… I’ll pass…”
Sebas thought, As I expected, but he did not voice it.
Tsuare had refused to do anything which might involve going outside ever
since she had started working.
She had taken this house to be an absolute defense of sorts, in order to
suppress the fear within her. In other words, she had drawn a line to tell herself
that this place was different from the outside world, which had hurt her. That
was the only way she could function normally.
However, if that kept up, Tsuare would never be able to leave the house, and
Sebas could not keep her here for her whole life.
Sebas understood that it was very cruel to expect Tsuare to walk amongst the
masses given her mental condition. He should have spent more time to help her
get used to being around others again, but that naturally required time.
Sebas did not intend to hide here or spend the rest of his life in this place. He
was an outsider who had only infiltrated this city in order to gather information.
If his master issued the order to withdraw—
He had to continue training Tsuare to give her additional possibilities, in
preparation for that day.
Sebas stopped moving and looked directly at Tsuare. She blushed and lowered
her head shyly, but Sebas took her cheeks in both his hands and raised her face.
“Tsuare, I understand your fears. However, I hope you will relax. I — Sebas
— will protect you. I will crush any and all dangers which draw near and ensure
you will not be harmed.”
“……”
“Tsuare, please step outside with me. If you’re afraid, you can close your
eyes.”
“……”
As Tsuare hesitated, Sebas held her hands tightly. What he said next was
terribly unfair to her.
“Are you willing to trust me, Tsuare?”
Silence filled the corridor, and time slowly passed them by. In the end,
Tsuare’s eyes grew moist, and her tender, pink lips parted to reveal her pearly
white teeth.
“…Sebas-sama… you are too cunning… When you… put it like that… how could
I refuse?”
“Please be at ease. Despite my appearance, I am quite strong… Let me put it
this way. In all the world there are only 41 people stronger than me… well, and a
few others.”
“Is… that… a lot?”
The figure he had chosen made Tsuare think that Sebas was merely cracking
a joke to reassure her, and so she smiled. Sebas saw this, and smiled back without
saying anything.
Sebas began walking again. He knew Tsuare was peeking at his face from the
side, but he did not bring it up.
Sebas knew Tsuare had some faint semblance of attraction to him. However,
Sebas felt that it was more like gratitude to him for saving her from her torment.
It was similar to brainwashing, or the trust she placed in someone who was
reliable.
 In addition, Sebas was an old man, and perhaps Tsuare had confused her sense
of familial kinship with romantic love.
Even if Tsuare did feel genuine love for Sebas, he did not feel that he could
adequately return it. After all, he had been hiding so many things from her, and
their respective circumstances were far removed from each other.
“Then I shall come to get you after discussing a few things with the Young
Mistress.”
“Solu…san…”
Tsuare’s mood turned gloomy. Sebas knew why, but he kept quiet about it.
Solution had hardly met with Tsuare before. At the very most she had glanced
at her in passing and left without saying a word. Anyone would feel uneasy about
being ignored like that, and in Tsuare’s case she would probably be terrified.
“It’s fine. The Young Mistress is like that to everyone. It isn’t as though she
has it out for you… though in all frankness, she can be a little willful at times.
You have to keep that a secret, though…”
Sebas smiled, and after finishing his half-joking words, the unease on Tsuare’s
face lightened somewhat.
“She often throws tantrums when she sees cute girls.”
“…I… How could I… I’m nothing like… the Mistress…”
Tsuare frantically waved her hands as if to dismiss those words.
Tsuare was pretty, but she was nothing like Solution. However, beauty was in
the eye of the beholder.
“In terms of looks, I would prefer you compared to the Young Mistress.”
“What! How could…”
Tsuare’s face was burning red as she lowered it. Sebas looked kindly upon her,
and then he saw her expression change and her brows furrow.
“And I… I’m… filthy…”
Sebas sighed inside as he watched Tsuare’s face fill with dejection. Then, he
turned to face her and said:
“Indeed, that is the case with gems. Unmarked ones are worth more, and they
are considered purer.”
Tsuare’s face fell even further as she heard those words.
“However — people are not gemstones.”
Tsuare suddenly jerked her head up.
“Tsuare, you seem to consider yourself dirty. But who can judge the purity of
a human being? There are clearly defined standards for precious stones… but
who will set the standards for a human being’s virtue? Is there some common
value to surpass? Some public opinion that must be adhered to? Does that mean
everyone else’s thoughts and opinions can be discarded?”
Sebas paused here, and then he continued:
“Every person has a different definition of beauty. If beauty cannot be
determined by one’s appearance, then in my opinion, we cannot determine
beauty by what people have experienced, but by how they are inside… I do not
know what you have been through and I have only spent a few days with you, but
what I know is that the person inside you is the furthest thing from being filthy
that I can imagine.”
Sebas closed his mouth, and the footsteps echoing along the corridor filled
the world. Tsuare seemed to have made up her mind, and she said:
“…If… you feel I am pure… then hug—”
Sebas had already embraced her before she could finish her words.
“You are very beautiful to me.”
Tsuare’s eyes overflowed with tears as she heard Sebas’ gentle words. Sebas
gently patted Tsuare’s back, and then slowly let her go.
“Tsuare, forgive me. The Young Mistress calls and I must answer.”
“I, I understand…”
Sebas left a red-eyed Tsuare bowing behind him and knocked on the door. He
then opened it without waiting for an answer. As he closed it, he smiled to
Tsuare, who had been spying on him all that time.
This house was rented, so it did not have much furniture despite its many
rooms. However, this room was filled with stylish furniture, enough to impress
any guest who came. However, anyone who knew anything would realize that
none of the furniture here was a venerable antique, and that the entire room was
all style and no substance.
“Young Mistress, I have returned.”
“…Thank you, Sebas.”
Solution, the false mistress of the manor, had an airheaded expression on her
face as she lounged on the sofa in the center of the room. However, that was
merely an act. That was because Tsuare the outsider was also in the house, so
she had to put on the mask of a haughty heiress.
Solution’s eyes left Sebas and went to the door.
“…She has left, I take it?”
“So it would seem.”
 The two of them looked at each others’ faces, and Solution spoke in a normal
tone.
“When are you going to get rid of her?”
Solution always asked the same question whenever they met, and Sebas
always gave her the same answer.
“When the time comes.”
Under normal circumstances, that would be the end of it. Solution would sigh
deliberately, and then drop the matter. However, Solution did not seem inclined
to let it go today, and she continued asking:
“…Could you give me a clear indication on when ‘the time’ will be? For all we
know, hiding that human might bring trouble upon us. Does that not violate
Ainz-sama’s orders?”
“There have been no problems until now… Fearing a human and the problems
they might make is hardly the attitude which a servant of Ainz-sama ought to
have.”
Deathly silence reigned between them, and Sebas quietly exhaled.
The situation was very bad.
Solution had no expression on her face, but Sebas could tell she was boiling
mad at him. This house might only have been a temporary base, but Solution
regarded it as a branch of Nazarick, and the fact that a human was living here
without permission made her very unhappy.
Solution had not made any move to harm Tsuare until now due to being
forcibly restrained by Sebas. However, if things remained as they were, it might
not endure for long.
Sebas was keenly aware that time was running out.
“…Sebas-sama. Once that human violates the orders Ainz-sama has set
forth—”
“—She will be dealt with.”
Sebas ended the sentence himself without giving Solution a chance to
continue speaking. She turned an emotionless look on him, and then nodded to
indicate that she understood.
“Then I will say no more. Sebas-sama, please do not forget the words you have
just said.”
“Of course not, Solution.”
“…Still.”
Solution’s hushed tone hid emotions so powerful that they made Sebas stop
in his tracks.
“…Still, Sebas-sama. Should we not report that thing (Tsuare) to Ainz-sama?”
Sebas fell silent. After a few seconds, he answered:
“I think it will be fine. I am uneasy about wasting Ainz-sama’s time on an
insignificant human.”
“…Entoma and the others regularly contact you with [Message] spells every
day. Why not bring it up while you are in contact with them? …Or is there
something you wish to hide?”
“How could that be? I harbor no such thoughts. I would never dream of—”
“That would mean… everything you have done is not for your own personal
gain… am I right?”
The air between them grew tense.
Sebas knew that Solution was deliberately picking at this topic, and he was
keenly aware that he was in danger himself.
Every denizen of Nazarick owed their absolute loyalty to Ainz Ooal Gown —
to each of the Supreme Beings. It was certain that everyone felt that way,
especially the Guardians. Even the Assistant Head Butler Eclair, who schemed
to take Nazarick for his own, felt sincere loyalty and respect for the 41 Supreme
Beings.
Naturally, Sebas was one of them.
That said, he still felt that it was wrong to abandon a pitiful being just because
he was afraid of danger. However, he also understood that most of those in
Nazarick would not approve of that course of action.
No, he only thought he understood. Solution’s attitude from a few seconds ago
had clearly informed him of the full extent of his naivete.
Solution had been serious. She might well have turned on Sebas — who was
one of the highest-ranking managers in Nazarick and one of the strongest melee
combatants in Nazarick — depending on his answer. He had not expected
Solution to go to such lengths to remove a problem.
—Sebas smiled.
As she saw that smile, Solution’s eyes filled with surprise.
“…Of course. It was not for personal gain that I did not report this to Ainz-
sama.”
“Is there anything to support that?”
“I appreciate that girl’s culinary technique.”
“You mean to say… her cooking?”
 It was as though there was a question mark atop Solution’s head.
“Yes. In addition, would it not be suspicious if only two people lived in such a
large home?”
“…Perhaps.”
Solution had no choice but to agree with that point. Anyone would find it
strange that such a large house was hardly occupied, for all the money spent on
it.
“I feel that we need a few people around. Besides, would it not be bad if we
could not serve a single dish if guests arrived?”
“…That is to say, you are using that human as camouflage?”
“Indeed.”
“But why did you have to use that particular human…”
“I am interested in Tsuare. I feel that even if she has her doubts about us, she
would never make them public. Am I wrong?”
Solution thought briefly on the matter and then nodded.
“Indeed.”
“Just so. This is merely a deception, so there is no need to specially seek Ainz-
sama’s permission to do so. For all we know, he might chastise us and say,
‘Figure these small things out yourself.’”
This was how Sebas calmly explained himself to the silent Solution.
“Can you accept that?”
“…I understand.”
“Then, we’ll carry on like this for—”
Sebas stopped halfway, because he had heard something like two hard objects
colliding.
It was a very soft sound; probably nobody but Sebas would have heard it.
That disordered noise repeated itself again, and he was certain that it had
been deliberately made.
Sebas opened the room door and stepped into the corridor, focusing his
senses.
They froze when they realized the sound was coming from the main door’s
knocker. Nobody had ever knocked on that door ever since they had come to the
Royal Capital. They had conducted their business in person and they had never
asked anyone to come to the house. That was because they were concerned that
others would wonder why such a large house was only occupied by two people.
And now, somebody had come to visit this house. Certainly there must be
some kind of trouble afoot.
Sebas kept Solution in the room and walked to the main door, where he lifted
the cover of the door’s peephole.
He could see a plump man outside, and Royal Army soldiers waiting for orders
behind him on either side.
The plump man was neatly attired, and he wore well-tailored clothing. He had
a weighty badge on his chest which reflected a coppery light. His sweaty red face
was also packed with fat and had an oily sheen to it, probably from too many rich
meals.
At the back of the procession was a strange-looking man.
His pale, sallow skin looked like it had never seen the sun before. His eyes
were keen and his scrawny face looked like some predator — a corpse-feeding
scavenger, in fact. His dark clothes hung loosely about him, and he must
certainly have weapons about his person.
He radiated a scent of blood and malice, which prickled on Sebas’ sixth sense.
Sebas had no idea of who these ragtag bunch of misfits were or what they
wanted.
“…May I know who is calling?”
“I am Inspector Stefan Havish,” reported the fat man at the head of the group.
His voice was shrill and somewhat off-key.
Inspectors were public officials who maintained order in the Royal Capital.
One could say they were the commanders of the guards who patrolled the
Capital, and they had far-reaching authority. Sebas had no idea why this man
called Stefan had come, and it worried him.
Stefan ignored Sebas’ reaction and continued:
“I trust you know that the Kingdom’s laws prohibit the trafficking of slaves…
That law was proposed by Princess Renner herself and put into effect after being
reviewed by Parliament. The report I received indicates that the inhabitants of
this domicile have violated that law. Thus, I wish to investigate the matter.”
Stefan neatly punctuated his statement by saying, “May I come in, please?”
Sebas hesitated as he broke out in a cold sweat.
He thought of many excuses to deny him entry, but chasing him away might
lead to greater trouble in future.
There was no guarantee that Stefan was actually who he said he was either.
The Kingdom’s public servants all had to wear badges like Stefan did, but there
was no telling if he was a legitimate state employee. For all he knew, it might be
counterfeit — though the penalty for doing so was very severe.
That said, what harm would it do to allow several humans into the house? If
they intended to resort to violence, Sebas could easily deal with them. Indeed,
their being impostors would only suit Sebas’ purposes.
There was no telling what Stefan thought of Sebas’ pensive silence. Once
more, he asked:
“If I may, could I have an audience with the master of the house? While it
cannot be helped if the master is not in, we are here to conduct an investigation.
Things will go poorly if we return empty-handed.”
Stefan smiled. There was no sign of humility in that smile. It concealed
undertones of intimidation through the abuse of power.
“Before that, I would like to ask — who is that man behind you?”
“Hm? His name is Succulent. He represents the establishment which reported
this incident to me.”
“I’m Succulent. Pleased to meet you.”
After seeing Succulent’s cold smile, Sebas’ felt a sense of defeat creeping up
on him.
His cold smile was like that of a cruel hunter mocking his prey as it stepped
into his trap. He must surely have made all the proper arrangements with all the
appropriate parties before strutting up to him, bold as brass. That being the case,
Stefan was most likely a proper official. They would surely be prepared for any
refusals on his part. That being the case, he ought to see what they had in store
for him.
“…I understand. I shall inform the Young Mistress forthwith. I hope you will
be so kind as to wait here for a moment.”
“Very well, we’ll wait, we’ll wait.”
“However, please be swift about it. We do not have all day.”
Succulent sneered at him, while Stefan shrugged.
“Understood. Then, please excuse me.”
Sebas lowered the cover of the peephole and turned towards Solution’s room.
Before that, however, he had to tell Tsuare to hide inside the house—

●
 He had the soldiers wait outside, while he brought Stefan and Succulent
inside. Both of them were visibly shocked when they saw Solution.
Their faces said that they had not expected to see such a beautiful woman.
Stefan’s expression slowly turned lewd, his eyes roving between her face and her
ample bosom. There was a dark look of lust in his eyes. In contrast, Succulent’s
face gradually tightened up, unwilling to relax.
It was clear which of them was more worthy of caution. Sebas bade them take
a seat on the sofa opposite Solution.
Solution, who was already seated, exchanged names with Stefan and
Succulent, who were just settling in.
“Then, what is the matter?”
Solution’s question brought an exaggerated cough from Stefan, and he said:
“A certain establishment reported that someone had taken away one of their
workers. At the same time, I heard that the person responsible had paid a great
deal of dirty money to another worker. Our country prohibits the trafficking of
slaves… doesn’t that sound like breaking the law to you?”
Stefan’s voice grew steadily more excited and harsher, but Solution’s response
was a thoroughly disinterested:
“Oh, really…?”
Her tone nearly made the two of them roll their eyes. They were clearly trying
to intimidate her, but they had not expected a response like that from her.
“Sebas will handle all the troublesome bits. Sebas, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
“Is, is that alright? If things go poorly, you might become a criminal.”
“Ooooh, I’m soooo scared. Inform me when I’m about to become a criminal,
Sebas.”
Solution smiled widely to them as she rose.
“Have fun, everyone.”
Nobody could stop her as she left. In that instant, they realized exactly how
powerful a beautiful woman’s smile could be.
Before the door’s latch could slide home, they could hear gasps of surprise as
the soldiers outside were startled by Solution’s good looks.
“—Then I shall hear you two gentlemen out on the Young Mistress’ behalf.”
Sebas took a seat before them with a smile. Stefan shrank back as he saw his
smile, but Succulent decided to speak up on his behalf to help retain control of
the situation.
“Just as well. I’ll tell you then, Sebas-san. As Havish-san told you at the door,
one of the people at our… establishment has gone missing. We questioned a man,
and he said that he had handed her over for money. I thought; was this not slave
trafficking, which is forbidden in the Kingdom? I was unwilling to believe that
one of our employees could actually do such a thing, but I had no choice but to
report it.”
“Indeed. We cannot condone the filthy slave trade!”
Stefan slammed the table.
“For that reason, dear Succulent here has reported this case even at the risk
of staining his business’ reputation! What a model citizen he is!”
Succulent nodded in thanks as Stefan spluttered his lines.
“Thank you, Havish-sama.”
What kind of farce is this, Sebas thought. Meanwhile, his mind worked. The two
of them were clearly in cahoots. That being the case, it was almost certain that
they had taken ample precautions before launching their campaign. That being
the case, his defeat was certain. Still, he had to minimize his losses, but how?
Turning that around, what were the conditions for Sebas’ victory?
As a butler of Nazarick, Sebas’ win condition was eliminating the problem and
not letting things pile up. Protecting Tsuare was definitely not part of that.
However—
“I believe the man who claims to have taken the money may have borne false
witness. Where is he now?”
“He was arrested on suspicion of slave-trading and is in custody now. After
questioning him, we managed to learn—”
“—The identity of the person who bought our employee, who would be you,
Sebas-san.”
The man had probably sung like a canary when he was captured. He had most
likely been squeezed for information useful to them under questioning.
Sebas pondered whether he should act dumb, lie, or deliver a stern and
upright rebuttal.
What if he said she was not in the house? What if he said she were dead?
Numerous lines popped into his head, but none of them sounded like they
would work, and the opposition would probably not give up easily. It would be
better for him to ask what he needed to know.
“Still, what led the two of you to me? What proof do you have?”
That was what baffled Sebas. He had not left any trace of his name or identity.
They should not have been able to find any evidence pointing to him. However,
the two of them were here. How had they found him? He was always very careful
during his excursions and wary of being followed. He did not think anyone in
this city could follow him without being spotted.
“It was the scroll.”
A stroke of light flashed across Sebas’ mind.
—The scroll he had bought in the Magician’s Guild.
The workmanship of that scroll was exquisite, and it was certainly no ordinary
scrap of parchment. Anyone who could recognize a scroll like that would be able
to tell that it was purchased from the Magician’s Guild. After asking around, they
would find clues, and a man in a butler’s uniform carrying a scroll would be quite
prominent.
Still, that alone would not prove that Tsuare was here. He could also insist
that there was someone else who happened to look like him.
However, he would be in trouble if they said they were going to search the
house. Indeed, they would discover that only three people lived in this home,
including Tsuare.
That being the case all he could do was come clean. Sebas decided to leave his
fate to the gods.
“…I did take her away. That is a fact. However, she was heavily wounded at
that time, and I was forced to do so because I feared her life would be in danger.”
“In other words, you admit to buying her.”
“May I speak to that man you mentioned?”
“Unfortunately, we cannot allow that. Things would be bad if you were
allowed to match up your stories.”
“You could always—”
Listen in while we were talking. Sebas wanted to say that, but he shut his mouth.
In the end, they had planned the whole thing out. Even if he did find that man,
it was not likely that the situation could be made to favor him. Continuing with
this approach was only a waste of time.
“…Before we go into that, do you not that think that allowing her to sustain
such severe injuries while working is more problematic in the eyes of the nation?
Are there not laws against that too?”
“Conditions in our establishment are harsher than most. Injury is
unavoidable. Consider that working in mines and the like also includes the risk
of occupational hazards. It’s the same thing.”
“…I doubt they are the same thing.”
 “Hahaha. We’re in the service industry. You meet all sorts of clients there. We
do pay attention, you know. Alright, I get your point. We’ll be more careful next
time… yes, a little more careful.”
“…Just a little?”
“Ah, yes. Worrying too much about details costs money, you know. Causes
problems too.”
Succulent sneered at Sebas’ question.
In turn, Sebas smiled.
“—Alright, that’s enough.”
Stefan sighed. His attitude was one that he used when dealing with fools.
“My duty is to verify that slave trafficking was going on. Employee welfare is
another matter entirely. All I can say is that it has no bearing on the case.”
“…Then, can you tell me who are the people who specialize in problems like
these?”
“…Hm, I’d like to tell you, but there are some difficulties in doing so.
Regretfully, sticking one’s nose into others’ business will only earn you
resentment.”
“…Then, please wait until I find the relevant people first.”
Stefan grinned evilly, as though to say, “I was waiting for you to say that.”
Succulent had the same sort of look as him.
“…Ah, I would like to wait for that, but the business has already filed a case,
so I must arrest you and begin investigations. It’s out of my hands.”
In other words, he was out of time.
“Given the situation and the circumstantial evidence, you’re clearly guilty, but
the plaintiff has said that they’re willing to go easy on you. Compensation will
be needed to smooth things over, of course, and destroying the documentation
related to the slave-trading offense will also require a bit of money.”
“What exactly do you mean by smoothing things over?”
“Well now. We’d like you to return our employee, and make up for the loss of
income incurred while you were holding on to her.”
“I see. And how much is that?”
“In gold coins… well. Ah, I’ll give you a discount. 100 gold coins.
Compensation will run you another 300 gold coins, so a total of 400 seems fair,
don’t you think?”
“…That is quite a sum. How did you arrive at that figure? How much does she
make a day and how exactly is it tallied up?”
 “Hang, hang on a bit,” Stefan interrupted. “That’s not all, Succulent-san.”
“Ah, I almost forgot. Since I’ve already made a report, you’ll need to pay to
destroy that as well, even if you settle the matter with us under the table.”
“That’s right. How could I have forgotten, friend Succulent?”
Stefan smiled wickedly once more.
“…yet?”
“Hm?”
“No, it’s nothing,” Sebas quietly said as he smiled.
“Hm, forgive me, Havish-sama,” Succulent bowed to Stefan.
“Destroying the documents costs a third of the compensation fees, so that’ll
be 100 gold coins. That’s a total of 500 gold coins, I believe.”
“Does the money I paid when bringing her here count against that?”
“How could that be? Listen, mister. When you reach an accord with the other
side, that means you didn’t buy a slave. In other words, the expenses of buying
that slave are written off. Just imagine that you lost the money somewhere.”
To think they would actually expect Sebas to assume he had lost 100 gold
coins. In all likelihood, most of it had already found its way into their pockets.
“…However, her injuries are not yet fully recovered. If the two of you take her
away now, her wounds might reopen. And if she does not receive the proper
treatment, she might well lose her life. I believe it would be better for her to stay
with me and receive care here. What do you think?”
Succulent’s eyes gleamed in a bizarre way.
When he noticed this, Sebas realized the depths of his mistake. He had
allowed them to realize how much Tsuare meant to him.
“I see, I see. You do have a point. Her death notwithstanding, we’ll need you
to pay for the money which would have been spent on her. While she’s
recovering, how about letting us have some fun with the lady of the house?”
“Ohhh! That makes a lot of sense. If you make a hole, you have to fill it!”
There was visible lust in Stefan’s full-faced smile. He was surely imagining the
act of stripping Solution naked.
The smile faded off Sebas’ face, and it turned impassive.
Succulent was probably not serious, but he would probably press the attack if
he showed any weakness. Thanks to him exposing his attachment to Tsuare, the
possibility still existed that the situation might deteriorate further.
“…Aren’t you afraid of your desires getting you in trouble?”
“How dare you talk to me like that?!”
 Stefan’s face was bright red as he shouted.
Sounds like slaughtering a pig, Sebas thought. He stared at Stefan without a
single word.
“What do you mean by my desires? All this is to uphold the law passed by the
glorious will of Princess Renner! How dare you call it base desire! Show some
respect!”
“Yes, yes, don’t get worked up, Havish-sama.”
Once Succulent cut in, Stefan calmed down immediately. His anger had faded
too soon, a sign that this was merely a scare tactic and not genuine anger.
What terrible acting, Sebas mused.
“But I say, Succulent-san…”
“Havish-sama, we’ve said everything we came here to say. I was thinking
about coming back the day after to see what he thinks. Is that alright with you,
Sebas-san?”
“Very well.”
With that, Sebas brought everyone to the main door. As he sent them off,
Succulent — who had stayed until the end — smiled to Sebas, and left him with
these words.
“Still, I have to thank that slut. To think a piece of trash could actually turn
out to be a goose that lays golden eggs.”
With that, the door closed with a thud.
Sebas glared at them, as though the door were transparent. There was no
particular expression on Sebas’ face. He looked as calm as always. However,
there was a distinct emotion in his eyes.
That emotion was anger.
—No, the word “anger” was far too mild to describe how he felt.
“Furious” and “wrathful”; those words would be more suitable.
Succulent’s parting shot was honest, flung at him because he was certain that
Sebas was at his wits’ end and had nowhere to turn — that his victory was
assured.
“Solution, you can come out now, no?”
Solution oozed out of the shadows in response to Sebas’ voice. She had
melded into the shadows with abilities from the assassin-type classes she had
taken.
“Did you hear all that?”
Sebas had only asked as a formality. Naturally, Solution nodded to say, “of
course.”
“What do you plan to do now, Sebas-sama?”
Sebas could not answer that question immediately. As she saw that, Solution
glared coldly at him.
“…What about handing that human over to them?”
“I do not feel that will solve the problem.”
“…Is that so?”
“If I expose a weakness, they will seek to capitalize on it until they suck us
dry. That’s the kind of people they are. I do not think handing Tsuare to them
will solve the problem. More to the point, the real problem is how much they
learned while investigating us. We entered the Royal Capital as traders, but if
they look too closely, they’ll see through it — through our disguise.
“Then, what do you intend to do?”
“I do not know. I wish to take a walk outside and think.”
Sebas opened the door and headed outside.

Solution watched in silence, looking at Sebas’ back as it shrank into the

distance.
This was all meaningless.
None of this would have happened if he had not picked up that human. That
said, it was too late for that now. The question was what they would do next.
As Sebas’ subordinate, she could not simply ignore his instructions, but she
felt that leaving things be would only lead to a worse outcome.
If our little sister could move out… if I could take action as one of the Pleiades, we
wouldn’t have this problem now.
She was hesitating.
She was waffling. She had never been so hesitant in her life.
In the end, she made up her mind. She raised her left hand and opened it.
Something protruded from it, like it was floating on water. It was a scroll
which she had stored inside her body. It had originally been given to her for
communication in an emergency — although, thanks to Demiurge’s hard work,
there was now a way to manufacture low-level spell scrolls. Still, Solution did
not know of this before she set out, and so she believed that this scroll was only
to be used in a dire situation — and Solution believed that this qualified.
She opened the scroll and activated the spell bound within. Once used, the
scroll crumbled and fell to the ground as dust, and then even the dust vanished.
As the spell took effect, Solution was connected to the other party. She asked:
“Is that you, Ainz-sama?”
“「Solution — hm? What happened? Since you’re contacting me, does that
mean there’s been an emergency?」”
“Yes.”
Solution paused at this point. She had stopped because of her loyalty to Sebas
and because she had considered the possibility that she might have been wrong.
However, her loyalty to Ainz overrode all that.
In addition, they should have considered the greatest benefits for the 41
Supreme Beings in every move they made. However, everything Sebas had done
until now could have been said to have violated that precept.
Therefore, she decided to commend the decision into her master’s hands and
said:
“Sebas-sama may have betrayed us.”
“「Wha! …Ah? …No, how could that be… mhm… Do not joke with me,
Solution. I forbid you to accuse others without evidence… do you have proof?」”
“Yes. Although, it might not quite count as proof…”
Chapter 4 Congregated Men
 Chapter 4 | Congregated Men

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 04:01

Brain’s accumulated fatigue hit him all at once, and so he slept for almost a
full day upon entering Gazef’s home. He woke up to eat a little, and then went
right back to bed.
He did not wish to admit it, but he could rest easy in Gazef’s home because he
felt safe there. He knew that even his rival Gazef could not endure a single blow
from that Shalltear, yet the home of his former nemesis was now the safest place
in the world for him. It relieved his tension and allowed him to sleep soundly.
Light fell across Brain’s face through the slats of the louvred window.
The light woke Brain from his dreamless sleep.
He opened his eyes, but the piercing rays made him squint them again. He
reached his hand out to block the sunlight.
Brain propped himself up on one arm and then swung his legs over so he was
sitting on the side of the bed. He looked around the room like a frightened
mouse. The plain room only had the bare minimum of furniture in it, and Brain’s
battle gear was piled up in a corner of the room.
“Is this the room which the Kingdom’s Warrior-Captain uses to receive
guests?”
As Brain looked around the empty room, he let a few biting words fall from
his lips as the lack of people put him at ease. Then, he stretched himself, and his
joints made cracking noises as his stiff body relaxed and the blood circulated
through his body once more.
A huge yawn escaped him.
“…He must have let his people stay the night here in the past, no? They must
have felt so disappointed.”
The reason why royalty and nobility led such luxurious lives was not simply
because they enjoyed it. It was also for vanity’s sake; to protect their image.
Similarly, when the men saw their leader’s opulent lifestyle, it would spur
their desire to make a name for themselves and give them motivation.
“…No, it’s not my place to say such things,” Brain mumbled. Then he snorted;
but it was directed at himself and not Gazef.
It must have been because he had been pulled back from the brink of madness,
the place where he had nearly been driven by those twin mental shocks. To think
he would actually be thinking about such trivial matters.
As Brain thought about that powerful monster, he found that he could not
stop the tremors in his hand.
“As I thought…”
The terror which clung to his heart had not been removed yet.
Shalltear Bloodfallen.
A figure of absolute power, one whom even Brain — who had abandoned
everything else in pursuit of sword skills — could not possibly match. She was a
monster among monsters; yet one whose looks were the sum total of all the
beauty in the world. She was a person who wielded true power.
A thrill of fear shot through his heart at the mere memory of her.
He had lived in constant terror of that monster’s pursuit, and once he had
reached the road to the Royal Capital he had not slept or even rested, only
fleeing for his life. The spectre of Shalltear appeared before him when he did
sleep, and the night seemed to take her shape as he ran along the roads. Crushed
under this disquiet, he had not been able to get a good night’s rest. All he could
do was run like there was nothing else in the world for him.
He had chosen to flee to the Royal Capital because he believed that he could
lose himself among the masses of people there and throw her off his trail.
However, he had not expected the heavy toll which his grueling flight had taken
on him, or the lack of self-preservation which had developed as a result.
Meeting Gazef was an unexpected development. Perhaps Brain imagined that
Gazef could eliminate Shalltear, and so his legs had unconsciously brought him
in search of his rival. Yet, he had not found his answer.
“What should I do now…”
He had nothing.
He opened his hands, and they were empty.
He looked at his battle gear in the corner of the room.
He had obtained a Katana in order to triumph over Gazef. Yet, what would he
do after beating Gazef? He now knew that there was a being several orders of
magnitude more powerful than himself. If he could not defeat said being, what
was the point of triumphing over those who were beneath it?
“I should probably go take up the plow instead… it would probably be more
meaningful.”
Then, Brain sensed someone outside just as he was about to mock himself.
“Unglaus, are you awake? …You should be, right?”
That voice belonged to the owner of this home.
“Ah, Stronoff. I’m up.”
The door opened and Gazef entered the room. He was fully outfitted in his
battle panoply.
“You sure slept for a long time. I was shocked by how deeply you were
sleeping.”
“Yeah, thanks for letting me be. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. However, I need to head out to the Palace right now.
Tell me about what happened after I come back.”
“…It’s pretty bad, you know? You might end up like me.”
“Even so, I have to listen. I guess it ought to be better if we drank while we
talked to lighten the mood… Treat this place as your home until I get back. Ask
the household help if you want to eat anything, they ought to be able to throw
something together for you. And if you want to head out… you’ve got money,
right?”
“…No. But… If I need anything, I can sell my magic items.”
Brain showed Gazef the rings he was wearing.
“Is that really okay? They’re not cheap, right?”
 “It’s fine. I don’t care.”
He had bought these items to defeat Gazef. Now that he knew there was no
point in doing so, what meaning was there in treasuring these trinkets?
“High-priced items can be hard to sell at times. The buyer does need to raise
the money, after all. Here, take this.”
Gazef tossed him a small cloth pouch. Brain caught it, and heard the sound of
metal clinking from inside.
“…Sorry about this. I’ll be borrowing this for now, then.”
 2

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:31

Sebas strolled leisurely as he pondered how to deal with the five people who
had been following him ever since he had left his home. He believed that moving
his body would lift his mood and help him think of a good idea.
Soon, he saw a crowd of people jamming up the road in front of him.
The sound coming from them was either vicious cursing or mocking laughter,
accompanied by the sound of something striking something else. Cries along the
lines of “Someone’s going to die” and “Better get the guards” rose up from them.
The crowd blocked his line of sight, but he was certain that some kind of
violence was in progress.
Sebas thought that perhaps he should change his path and take another path.
He hesitated for a moment — and then he continued straight onwards.
His path took him into the center of the crowd.
“Excuse me.”
Sebas wove through the onlookers with those words and reached the center
of the crowd.
The sight of an old man moving with a bizarre, fluid grace shocked and
unnerved the onlookers, and the people who saw Sebas passing before them
were stunned with surprise.
There seemed to be someone else trying to get to the heart of the crowd other
than Sebas. Said person went, “Excuse me,” but he could not advance through
the throng of humanity and was stuck, unable to advance or retreat.
Sebas stepped into the center of the congregation with no difficulty, and there
he saw what was going on with his own eyes.
Several unkempt-looking men were kicking and stomping on something.
Sebas moved on without a single sound, stopping only when he was within
arms’ reach of the men.
“Fuck you doing, old man?!”
One of the five men had noticed Sebas approaching and snarled at him.
“This place seemed a little noisy so, I came to take a look.”
“You want a piece of this?!”
The men ran over to surround Sebas. As they left their original positions, they
revealed the object they had been kicking around all this time. It looked like a
boy. He was curled up on the ground and bleeding from his face. It was unclear
if the blood came from his mouth or his nose.
Apparently the boy had passed out after being brutalized for so long, but he
still looked like he was breathing.
Sebas looked at the men. The smell of alcohol hung about their mouths and
bodies. Their faces were flushed red, but not from the exertion of physical
activity.
Had they lost control of their violent impulses because they were drunk?
Sebas had a blank expression on his face as he asked:
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but don’t you think it’s time to stop?”
“Hah?! This punk got his food all over my shirt! How could I let that slide?”
One of the men pointed to a spot on his shirt. It did look like a stain. However,
the men’s clothes were filthy to begin with. That being the case, the stain was
hardly obvious.
Sebas looked at the one who seemed to be the boss of the five young men. The
difference might have been too subtle for an ordinary human being to detect,
but Sebas — who had a warrior’s keen sensory perceptions — was able to pick
him out.
“Still… public safety in this city is quite bad.”
“Ah?!”
Sebas spoke as though he had just confirmed something he had observed from
afar. The men thought he had trivialized them and made noises of displeasure.
“…Begone.”
“Ah? The fuck you say, old man?”
“I’ll say it again — begone.”
“Damn geezer!”
 The boss-like man flushed red and clenched his fist — and then he collapsed
limply to the ground.
Sounds of shock came from all around them, including the four remaining
men.
What Sebas had done was simple enough. He had simply formed his hand into
a fist and struck a blow at the man’s chin — albeit at a speed which humans
would be hard-pressed to even see. That had given the man a high-speed brain
concussion. He could also have sent the man flying with imperceptible speed,
but that would not have served to frighten the others. Thus, he had held back in
his strike.
“Do you still wish to fight?” Sebas quietly said.
His calm and strength cut through the men’s intoxication. They backed
several steps off and chorused an apology.
Sebas thought, you’re apologizing to the wrong person, but he did not actually
say it.
The men grabbed their unconscious colleague and fled. Sebas did not bother
watching them and instead went over to the fallen boy. However, he stopped in
his tracks halfway.
What was he doing?
Right now, he ought to be dealing with the problem he was facing. Only a fool
would go and take more problems onto himself at a time like this. Had he not
ended up in this precarious state because he was too sympathetic and acted
without thinking?
In any case, the boy had been saved. He would have to be satisfied with that.
That thought crossed Sebas’ mind, but he still headed toward the boy. He
touched the immobile boy’s back and infused a bit of Ki into him. Channeling
the full measure of his Ki would probably heal all his wounds immediately, but
that would be far too eye-catching.
Thus, Sebas did the bare minimum necessary, and then he pointed to someone
who happened to meet his eyes.
“…Please take this boy to the temple. His ribs might be broken, so please take
care when loading him onto a board for transport, and don’t shake him too
much.”
The man Sebas had ordered nodded, and then Sebas strode forth. He did not
need to push to the crowd, because they cleared out of his way when he took a
step forward.
 Sebas continued ahead once more. Before long, he sensed that the number of
presences following him had increased.
However, there was one problem — namely, the identity of his tails.
The five people who had followed him from the house were most likely
Succulent’s men. In that case, what about the two who had joined them in
stalking him after he had saved the boy?
They seemed to be grown men by the sound of their footsteps and their pace,
but he had no idea who they were.
“I can’t think of an answer. In any case… I should probably apprehend them
first.”
Sebas turned a corner into a dimly lit region. His followers remained on his
trail.
“…Still, are they really hiding themselves?”
They had not concealed the sounds of their footsteps. Did they lack the ability
to do so, or was there some other reason? He decided not to think overmuch on
the matter. After all, he could verify the truth after capturing them. Sebas
decided to make his move once he could no longer sense the presence of others
around them.
Just then, a hoarse — but youthful — male voice came from one of the people
who had been following him.
“—Excuse me!”
 3

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:27

Climb was thinking on his way back to the Royal Palace.
He thought about the battle he had fought with Gazef that morning, replaying
the fight in his mind over and over again and considering how to fight with
greater skill. What tactics will I try if I get another chance? he thought.
Just as Climb slowly reached his conclusion, he saw a group of people huddled
up in front of him. Angry cries came from them, and two guards watched from
afar, unsure of what to do.
The sounds of an argument came from the center of group, and it did not
sound like an ordinary squabble.
Climb’s expression turned cold, and he walked up beside the guards.
“What are you doing?”
The guard jumped in fright, given that someone had called out to him from
behind, and he turned to look at Climb.
The man wore a chain shirt and carried a spear. He wore a surcoat emblazoned
with the Kingdom’s crest on top of the chain shirt. This was the standard
uniform of the average guard in the Kingdom, but Climb could sense that neither
of the people in front of him was well-trained.
To begin with, neither of them had honed physiques. For that matter, they
were also unshaven and their chain shirts had not been polished. A faint air of
grime hung about them and they seemed quite slovenly in overall appearance.
“You are…”
Climb was younger than himself, so the guard responded to him with a tone
that was a mix of bafflement and annoyance.
“I’m off-duty at the moment.”
Confusion spread across the guard’s face as he heard Climb’s staunchly
insistent voice. Perhaps it was because he radiated an aura of superiority despite
being younger than them.
The guards seemed to have concluded that they could not go wrong by taking
a submissive posture, and they straightened up.
“Seems to be a civilian disturbance.”
Climb resisted the urge to castigate them by saying I knew that already. Unlike
the Palace guards, the guards who patrolled the city were drawn from the civilian
populace and were not well-trained. In truth, they were merely civilians who
knew how to use weapons.
Climb turned his eyes from the nervous guards to the crowd. It would be
quicker to settle the matter in person than wait for them to do anything.
While poking his nose into guard business might be considered an
overstepping of his authority, he would not be able to face his beloved mistress
if he simply stood by while a citizen was being ill-treated.
“You wait here.”
Without waiting for their reply, Climb firmed up his resolve and pushed into
the crowd, forcefully thrusting his body in. While there were spaces between
each person, he was unable to get through the through. No, it would not be
normal for anyone to be able to do it.
He was nearly shoved back out, but he struggled to shove his way forward.
This was when he heard a voice from the center of the crowd.
“…Begone.”
“Ah? The fuck you say, old man?”
“I’ll say it again — begone.”
“Damn geezer!”
This was bad.
Those thugs were not satisfied with the beating they had administered; now
they wanted to strike an old man as well.
Climb’s face flushed red as he desperately shoved his way forward, and when
he got through the crowd, he saw the figure of an old man before him. He was
surrounded by a group of younger man. At their feet was a boy who had been
beaten so badly he looked like a crumpled rag.
The old man was elegantly dressed, and gave off the feeling of being nobility
or the servant of nobility. The men surrounding him were muscular and looked
drunk. The villainous side was apparent at a glance.
One of the men — the one who looked the most muscular — clenched his fist.
Compared to him, the old man seemed far inferior, be it in the sturdiness of
their bodies, the bulging of their muscles, or their bloodthirsty brutality. Surely
the younger man could easily send the old man flying with but a swing of his fist.
The people around them realized this, and gasped in horror at the tragedy which
was about to befall the old man.
Amidst all this, only Climb felt that something was strange.
Indeed, the younger man looked stronger. Yet, Climb could sense an aura of
absolute power coming from the old man.
He froze for a moment, and lost his chance to curb the younger man’s
violence. The man raised his fist—
—And then he collapsed limply to the ground.
The people around Climb exclaimed in shock.
It would seem that the old man had made a fist and struck the other man
square on his chin, at incredible speed. Even Climb’s honed vision could barely
keep up with the swiftness of that blow.
“Do you still wish to fight?”
The old man directed this calm and grave question at the remaining men.
The combination of his inscrutable exterior and his calm tone broke through
the men’s drunkenness. No — even the people around them had been frightened
by his presence. The men had lost all will to fight.
“Er, um. We, we’re sorry.”
The men backed up and chorused an apology, and then they grabbed their
colleague — who had been disgracefully laid out on the ground — and fled with
their tails between their legs. Climb did not think about following those men.
After all, the old man’s ramrod-straight posture, with his chest upthrust, had
stolen his heart and left him frozen in place.
He looked like a masterwork blade. It was a sight that would fill any warrior
who saw it with reverence. Small wonder that he could not move.
The old man patted the fallen boy’s back, as though examining his wounds,
and then he ordered a passer-by to get the boy to treatment before striding off.
The crowd cleared a path for the old man to walk. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on
his back, such was the allure of the old man’s presence.
Climb hurried over to the fallen boy and then took out the potion Gazef had
given him after their training session.
“Can you drink this?”
There was no answer. He had fainted dead away.
Climb opened the bottle and poured the liquid on the boy’s body. Many people
believed that potions had to be drunk, but the fact was that it would work even
when splashed on the flesh. Magic was truly great.
The boy’s skin seemed to absorb the liquid as it disappeared into his body, and
the color returned to the boy’s face.
Climb nodded in relief.
As the crowd realized Climb had just used an expensive item like that potion,
they were every bit as awed by him as they were by the old man’s preternatural
skill.
Climb did not regret using the potion. Having taken the people’s taxes, it was
only natural that he — as one who lived on said taxes — should protect them
and maintain public order. He felt that he ought to be able to do that much, even
if he could not defend the people.
The boy ought to be alright now that Climb had given him the potion, but it
would be best for him to go to the temple just to be safe. He looked to the guards
standing by and noticed that the pair had become a trio. Apparently someone
had arrived late.
The crowd had been tossing critical glances at the guards ever since just now.
Climb addressed a very uncomfortable-looking guard:
“Take this boy to the temple.”
“What happened to him…?”
“Someone assaulted him. I’ve already used a healing potion on him so he
should be alright, but I hope you’ll take him to the temple for a checkup, for
safety’s sake.”
“Yes. Understood!”
After handing the cleanup to the guards, Climb concluded that there was
nothing left for him to do here. As a soldier assigned to the Palace, it would be
better not to interfere in the matters of other places.
“Can I trouble you to question any eyewitnesses about the details of what
happened here?”
“Understood.”
“Then I’ll leave the rest to you.”
Climb noted that the guards seemed to have gained confidence and moved
more quickly upon receiving their orders. He ran ahead without another word.
“Where are you going…” one of the guards called, but Climb ignored him.
He only slowed down when he reached the corner which the old man had
taken.
After that, he began trailing the old man.
Soon, he saw the old man walking along the street.
He wanted to call out to him, but he could not work up the courage to do so.
That was because he sensed an invisible wall between them; a sense of awesome
power that seemed to crush him.
The old man turned a corner and headed into a darker region. Climb followed.
He was walking behind the old man, yet he did not dare speak up and address
him.
Was Climb not stalking him?
Climb began to feel annoyed by what he was doing. Even if he did not know
how to approach the old man, he could not keep following him like this. In an
effort to change the situation, Climb continued following in silence.
Once they had entered an empty back alley, Climb took several deep breaths,
as though he were a boy psyching himself up to confess his love to a girl. Then
he summoned his courage and said:
“—Excuse me!”
The old man turned around after hearing someone call out to him.
His hair was white, as was his beard. However, his back was straight, like a fine
blade forged of steel. His handsome face was wrinkled, giving a kindly cast to his
features, but his eyes were keen and as focused on their prey as those of an
eagle’s.
He even had an air of nobility about him.
“Is something the matter?”
The old man’s voice sounded somewhat aged, but it overflowed with an
undeniable vitality. Climb felt an invisible pressure rolling out towards him and
he gulped.
“Ah, ah—”
Climb could not speak, overwhelmed as he was by the man’s presence. As he
saw this, the old man appeared to relax and let the tension escape from his body.
“And who might you be?”
His tone was gentle. Released from the immense, crushing strain, Climb’s
throat regained its ability to function.
 “…My name is Climb, and I am a humble soldier of this nation. Thank you for
your courageous action in completing a task that should have been rightfully
mine.”
Climb bowed deeply in thanks. The old man fell into thought, then narrowed
his eyes. After that, he quietly went “Ah…” as he realized what Climb meant.
“…It’s fine. Then, I’ll be going.”
The old man broke off the conversation and made to leave, but Climb then
raised his head and asked:
“Please wait. Actually… well, this is somewhat embarrassing, but I’ve been
following you for a while because I have a request to make of you. I know I might
sound like I’m trying to bite off more than I can chew, and you are free to laugh
at me, but if you don’t mind, could you teach me your technique from just now?”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Ah. I have been studying the martial arts for a long time and I would like to
improve my skills further. After I saw that impeccable movement of yours just
now, I was hoping that you could teach me a little of your technique, if it pleases
you.”
The old man sized up Climb.
“Hm… show me your hands.”
Climb extended his hands, and the old man carefully examined his palms. It
made Climb feel a little awkward. The old man turned his hands over, glanced at
his nails, and nodded in satisfaction.
“Thick and hard. These are truly a warrior’s hands.”
Climb’s chest heated up as he heard the other man praise him. The joy in his
heart was much like how he had felt when Gazef had offered his own words of
praise.
“No, someone like me… is barely hanging on to the title of warrior.”
“I don’t think you need to be so humble… May I see your sword next?”
The old man accepted the sword and inspected the handle. Then he turned
his keen gaze on the sword’s blade.
“I see… is this a backup weapon?”
“How did you know!?”
“As I thought. Look, do you see this dent here?”
Climb looked at where the old man was pointing. Sure enough, part of the
blade had been damaged; probably from when he had struck poorly during that
practice bout.
 “I apologize for this shameful display!”
Climb was so embarrassed that he wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground.
Climb knew that his skills needed further refinement, so he had gone to
almost neurotic lengths to care for his weapons, in order to improve his chances
of victory. Or at least, he thought he had… until now.
“I see. I think I have a handle on you now. For a warrior, his weapon is like a
mirror which reflects his personality. You are a very admirable man.”
The tips of Climb’s ears were still burning as he raised his head to look at the
old man.
He saw a benign smile, gentle and full of grace.
“I understand. Then, I shall try to train you a little. However—”
Just as Climb was about to offer his thanks, the old man interrupted him and
continued speaking.
“I have a matter I would like to consult you about. You said you were a soldier,
am I correct? Well, several days ago, I rescued a girl—”
After listening to the old man’s — Sebas’ — story, he was livid with rage.
He could not hide his displeasure at the fact that Renner’s slave manumission
laws had been misused in such a way, and that things had not changed until now.
No, that’s not right. Climb shook his head.
The Kingdom’s laws forbade trading in slaves. That said, it was a common
sight for people to be forced to work in poor conditions in order to pay their
debts. Loopholes like those were everywhere. In fact, it was because of them that
the law against slavery had been passed.
Renner’s laws were useless. That chilling thought swept through his mind for a
moment, However. he soon chased that thought away. Right now, he had to
think about Sebas’ situation.
Climb furrowed his brow.
Sebas was in a very bad position. Perhaps if they could investigate the girl’s
contract, they could turn it against them, but Climb did not think the opposition
would not have prepared for that eventuality.
If this matter went to the courts, Sebas would lose for sure.
His adversaries had probably not filed a suit because they felt they could soak
him for more money this way.
“Do you know of any righteous individuals who could aid me in this matter?”
Climb only knew one such person — his mistress. He could say with all
confidence that no noble was more upright and trustworthy than her.
 Of course, he could not introduce Renner to him.
Given that these people could go to those lengths, they must surely have far-
reaching connections within the halls of power. Any nobles involved with them
were sure to be movers and shakers. If the Princess — who was affiliated with
the Royal Faction — attempted to investigate or send aid and thus damaged a
member of the Noble Faction, it might well spark all-out war between both sides.
The use of power was a tricky business, especially in a divided country like the
Kingdom. Civil War was a very real consequence of handling the situation
poorly.
He could not make Renner do something that would tear the country apart.
That was the conclusion he had reached while talking to Lakyus and the
others. That was why Climb had said nothing — no, could not say anything.
“I see,” Sebas said quietly.
There was no telling how he had managed to pick up on Climb’s inner turmoil,
but those words had a palpable impact on Climb.
“…According to her, there were several others there, both men and women.”
How could this be? There ought to be only one brothel run by the Slavery Division.
Is there another? Or… is that place the brothel we were talking about earlier?
“Perhaps we could think of a way to free them… I have to ask my liege first,
but given that my liege controls a domain, if we could let those people escape
there…”
“Can you do it? …Does that mean she could take shelter there too?”
“…Forgive me, Sebas-sama. I will need to clear that with my liege as well.
However, my liege is big-hearted. I don’t think there’ll be a problem!”
“Oh… Your liege must be an amazing person if you hold them in such high
regard.”
Climb nodded deeply in response to Sebas. Indeed, there was no greater
mistress than Renner.
“Let’s move onto another topic. What would happen if there was evidence
that this brothel violated the law? For instance, if they were proven to be
involved in the slave trade. Would this evidence be destroyed as well?”
“The possibility does exist, but once the relevant information is taken to the
proper authorities… I hope the Kingdom has not decayed to that extent yet.”
“…I understand. Then, another question, if you please. Why do you want to
become stronger?”
“Eh?” Climb squeaked. That was only to be expected, given that this topic
change was more drastic than the last.
“You just said that you wanted me to train you. I trust you, but I would also
like to know why you wish to become stronger.”
Climb narrowed his eyes at Sebas’ question.
Why did he want to become stronger?
Climb had been an abandoned child. He had not even seen the faces of his
parents. That was not an unusual occurrence in the Kingdom. Orphans dying in
the mud was hardly big news.
Climb had originally been fated to die in such a way on that rainy day.
And then — on that day, Climb had seen the sun. He — a being who could
only crawl amidst the muck and filth — had been deeply entranced by that gross
incandescence.
As a child, he had only felt admiration. But as he grew older, that feeling inside
him grew ever more unshakeable.
—It was love.
He had to quash that emotion. It was a miracle, of the kinds which the bards
sang in the heroic sagas. It could not possibly take place in real life. Just as no
man could touch the sun, Climb’s feeling would not be able to reach her. No, he
could not do so.
The woman whom Climb loved so deeply was destined to be someone else’s
bride. As a princess, she could not belong to someone like Climb, whose origins
were unclear, and who was even lower than a commoner.
If the King passed away, the First Prince would inherit the throne, and Renner
would be married off to one of the Great Nobles. In all likelihood, the Prince had
already arranged something like this with one of them. She might even be sent
to another country as part of a political marriage.
The fact that Renner — who was of marriageable age — was still single and
had no fiancé was quite surprising.
Their time together was so precious that he would pay any price to halt the
march of the clock’s hands, just so he could preserve these golden moments
forever. If he did not spend his time on training, he could enjoy more of these
moments.
Climb had no talent. He was a mere man. Through repeated practice, he had
become quite strong for a mere soldier. Then, should he not be content with
that? Should he not stop training, stay by Renner’s side and not waste their brief
time together?
 But — would that really be a good thing?
Climb admired that sun-like brilliance. It was not a lie, and neither was he
mistaken. It was Climb’s sincere wish.
However—
“It’s because I’m a man.”
Climb smiled.
Indeed. Climb wanted to stand by Renner’s side. The sun shone brilliantly in
the sky, and a mere man could not hope to reach it. Even so, Climb wanted to
climb the highest peaks in order to get as close to it as he could.
He did not want to merely admire and praise the sun from afar.
This was a young man’s feeble wish, but at the same time it was a wish that
perfectly fitted a young man.
He wanted to become a man worthy of being joined to the woman he admired,
even if their union could never be.
He could endure his friendless life, his harsh training, and his labors which
took away from his sleep because of his wish.
Let others laugh at him for his foolishness.
After all, they could not understand how he felt unless they truly loved
someone.

Sebas narrowed his eyes as he studied Climb. There was a stern look on his
face, as though he were trying to decipher the compressed subtleties of Climb’s
simple reply.
Then, he nodded.
“After hearing your answer, I have decided how to train you.”
Just as Climb was about to offer his thanks, Sebas’ outstretched hand stopped
him.
“However — and I pray you will forgive my bluntness — you have no talent.
Proper training will take a very long time. However, I do not have that time. I
wish to train you in a way that will show results quickly, but it will be an…
arduous process.”
Climb gulped again.
The look in Sebas’ eyes sent a chill down Climb’s spine.
 Those eyes were filled with unbelievable power, exceeding the spiritual
pressure which Gazef exerted when serious. Thus, he could not respond right
away.
“Frankly speaking, you might die.”
He was not joking.
Climb’s instincts told him that much. Climb did not fear death, but he wanted
to die for Renner. He did not want to throw his life away for a selfish reason.
He was not a coward… no, perhaps he might be very craven.
Climb gulped once more, and froze. Silence filled the surroundings for a
while, and he could even hear the clamor from the distance.
“Whether or not you die depends on your attitude… if there is something
important to you, something which makes you want to live, even if it is only to
scrabble along the ground, then it ought to be fine.”
Was he not going to teach him martial arts? That question surfaced in Climb’s
mind, but that was not the question now. He pondered the meaning of Sebas’
words, made sure he understood it, and then gave his response.
“I am prepared for it. I leave the rest to you.”
“Do you believe you will die?”
Climb shook his head. He did not.
That was because Climb would forever have his reason, one which would keep
him clinging to life even if he had to do so by crawling like a worm.
Sebas looked into Climb’s eyes, as though divining his intentions through
them. Then he nodded heavily.
“I understand. Then, we shall begin here.”
“Right here?”
“Yes. It will be quick. A few minutes will do. Please draw your sword.”
What’s he going to do?
Climb drew his sword as asked. His heart was a blend of uneasiness and
confusion about the unknown, with faint underpinnings of curiosity and
expectation.
The sound of the sword leaving its sheath echoed through the cramped alley.
Climb braced his weapon in a middle stance, and Sebas’ eyes were fixed on
him.
“Here I come. Please try and remain conscious.”
And in the next moment —
—It felt as though icy razors had exploded forth in all directions from Sebas.
 Climb could no longer speak.
Sebas now stood at the heart of a vortex of murderous intent.
This bloodlust felt like it could crush Climb’s heart in an instant, and it
seemed almost visible as it washed over him like a tsunami. Somewhere in the
distance, he could hear the scream of a soul being pulverized. It felt close to his
side, yet far away, and perhaps the voice might even have been his own.
As the obsidian flow of killing intent swept him away, Climb felt his
consciousness slowly bleaching away into whiteness. This overwhelming terror
made his body want to abandon his mind, which was carried away by the wave
that swamped him.
“…Is that all a ‘man’ is? That was only a warm-up.”
Sebas’ disappointed voice seemed abnormally loud through the depths of
Climb’s fading consciousness.
The meaning of those words pierced Climb deeper than any blade. It even
made him forget the fear before him for a moment.
His heart pounded heavily in his chest.
“Huuuuuuuuuhhhhh!” Climb gasped.
He was terrified. He wanted to run. But he fought the urge to do so, even as
the tears streamed down his cheeks. His hands trembled as they gripped his
sword, and the point of his sword danced around like a demented bumblebee.
His chain shirt made rustling noises from his full-body tremors.
Even so, Climb clenched his chattering teeth and tried to bear up against the
mortal terror which came from Sebas.
Sebas laughed at the pathetic sight before him. Then he brought his right hand
before his eyes and slowly clenched it into a fist. In the blink of an eye, the fist
in front of him was as round as a ball.
He then pulled that fist back, like he was drawing a bow.
Climb understood what was going to happen, and shook his head. Of course,
Sebas paid his response no heed.
“Now then… prepare to die.”
Sebas’ fist ripped through the air with a whoosh, like a fully drawn arrow being
loosed.
—It was instant death.
As time seemed to slow to a crawl, Climb’s instincts spoke to him. The image
of his certain death dominated his mind, like a massive wrecking ball that was
far larger than himself, approaching at incredible speeds. Even if he raised his
sword to block, that fist would surely smash it easily.
His body was frozen. It had gone stiff from tension.
—He could not escape the death before him.
Climb’s resignation to his fate filled him with anger.
If he could not die for Renner, then why had he not died back then? He should
have frozen to death in the rain and shuffled off the mortal coil by himself.
Renner’s beautiful smile appeared before him.
It was said that on the brink of death, people would see their lives flash before
their eyes like a zoetrope. The common opinion the brain was desperately
searching through its past records for a way to escape its current predicament.
However, it was somewhat laughable that the last thing Climb would see was the
smile of his beloved princess.
Indeed, Climb saw Renner as she smiled.
When she had saved him, the young Renner had not smiled. When had she
started smiling upon him?
He could not remember. However, he vividly remembered Renner’s timid
smile from back then.
How would she react if she learned that Climb had died? Would that smile
darken, like the clouds obscuring the sun?
—Are you kidding me?!
A blaze of anger roared up within Climb’s heart.
She had picked up the life of his that had been thrown away along the roadside.
That would mean his life was no longer his own. He lived for Renner… to grant
her joy, however minuscule it might be—
Isn’t there any way I can get out of this—!
The exploding passion within him burst the chains of fear that held him
prisoner.
His hands could move.
His legs could move.
The eyes that sought only to be closed slowly opened, desperately seeking the
image of the fist which was streaking in at him.
His senses were pushed to their very limit, to the point where he could even
sense the faint movements of particles in the air.
There was a phenomenon called an “adrenaline rush,” where the brains of
people in extreme duress would release the limits on their physical bodies,
allowing for a burst of incredible power.
 At the same time, the brain would secrete vast quantities of hormones and the
mind’s full capacity would be focused on survival. The brain would compute vast
quantities of information to find the best possible way to live on.
In that moment, Climb had stepped into the realm of a first-rate warrior. Yet,
the speed of Sebas’ attack was beyond even that lofty domain. Perhaps it was too
late to dodge Sebas’ fist. Perhaps it had always been too late. Even so, he still
had to move. He could not give up here.
As time slowed to a crawl, Climb saw that his own movements were as slow
as molasses. But still, he turned himself, trying to move.
And then—
Sebas’ fist roared past Climb’s face, with the sound of thunder. The gale which
followed clipped off several strands of Climb’s hair.
A calm voice filtered into his ears.
“Congratulations. How does it feel to conquer the fear of death?”
“……”
Climb stood there dumbly, unable to understand his meaning.
“How was it like to face death? How was it like to surpass it?”
Climb breathed heavily, looking at Sebas like his soul had been stolen away.
There was no hostility around Sebas, as though it had been nothing more than a
lie. He relaxed as he began to realize Sebas’ intent.
Climb collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, as though he had
been supported by the murderous intent from just now.
He fell on all fours in the alley, hungrily gasping fresh air into his lungs.
“…Fortunately you did not die from shock. These things happen when one is
so certain of one’s death that one gives up the will to live.”
There was a bitter taste in the depths of Climb’s throat. He was certain that
it was the taste of death.
“If you repeat this a few more times, I am sure you will be able to overcome
ordinary fear. However, one thing you must know is that fear triggers the
survival instinct. If you are numbed to that sense, then you will be unable to feel
even clear and present danger. You must be able to clearly tell when a true threat
approaches.”
“…For-forgive me for prying, but what kind of man are you?” Climb groaned
from his place on the ground.
“What do you mean?”
“That, that killing intent was not normal. What exactly…”
 “I am simply an old man who has some confidence in his skills. For now.”
Climb could not tear his eyes away from Sebas’ face. What seemed to be a
congenial smile also looked like a savage grin from one of absolute power; one
who far surpassed Gazef.
He was probably a being who was greater than Gazef, himself the mightiest
warrior of the surrounding nations.
—Climb willed his curiosity to be satisfied. He felt it would be best not to
continue prying into that mystery.
Even so, where had the old gentleman Sebas come from? That was the sole
question that burned within his heart. He even wondered, Could he be one of the
Thirteen Heroes?
“Then, let us try again—”
“—Wait! Please wait! I have something to ask you two.”
The voice of a frightened man interrupted Sebas from behind.
 4

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:27

Brain left Gazef’s home.
He looked back and thought about how he would get back, and then he
committed the house’s exterior appearance to memory. His mind had been
blurred from hypothermia when Gazef brought him here, so his memories from
back then were hazy.
He knew Gazef’s address because he had been planning to challenge the man
to a duel someday. However, that information had been gathered by word of
mouth, and it was somewhat inaccurate.
“There’s no sword stuck in the roof.”
He cursed the information broker who had told him that, and carefully
inspected the house.
It was much smaller than the noble residences, and it looked more like a
commoner’s dwelling. However, it was more than enough for Gazef and the
husband and wife who lived there with him.
After memorizing the house’s exterior, Brain set forth.
He did not have any particular destination in mind.
He did not want to buy weapons, armor or magic items.
“What should I do from now on…”
His mumbled voice faded into the air.
He was not particularly opposed to just vanishing somewhere. In fact, the
notion was still quite attractive to him.
He searched within himself for what he should do next, but he found only a
yawning void within his heart. His goal had been destroyed, utterly annihilated
without leaving a trace behind.
That being the case, why—
He looked down to his right hand, which still held his Katana. He still had his
chain shirt on under his clothes.
It was fear that had kept his sword in hand during his journey to the Royal
Capital. He knew that his blade was useless against that monster who could
deflect his best attacks with the fingernail on her pinky, but going unarmed still
frightened him.
That being the case, why was he still holding his blade? He could have left it
in Gazef’s home. Was it because he was still afraid?
Brain thought about it, and then shook his head.
That was not it.
In that case, why was he holding his Katana? In the end, the answer still eluded
him.
Brain recalled the first time he had come to the Royal Capital as he walked.
Some buildings had remained the same, like the Magician’s Guild or the Royal
Palace, but there were many new buildings which were absent from his
memories. Just as Brain was savoring the difference between his memories and
reality, he noticed a commotion ahead of him.
The noise made him furrow his brows. He sensed violence coming from the
crowd ahead.
Brain was about to turn and head elsewhere when an old man caught his eyes.
The old man wormed into the crowd, like he was sliding his way in.
“…What, what’s that? What’s with the way he’s moving?”
He blinked several times, unconsciously gasping in awe. The old man’s
movements beggared belief. Brain wondered if he was dreaming, or if he had
been affected by some kind of magic.
Perhaps even Brain might not be able to move as the old man had. It was a
godly technique that required one to keenly grasp the will of one’s counterpart,
or in this case, the flows of strength and motion within the entire crowd.
—In other words, those movements were at a sort of a pinnacle.
His feet carried him toward the crowd without hesitation.
Brain shoved others out of the way, and when he reached the center, he saw
the instant when the old man struck the younger man’s chin.
What? Could I… could I have blocked that blow just now? It’d be hard, right? Did he
draw away the other man’s vision and attention? Am I overthinking this? Still, that
was a magnificent strike. You could teach it in a textbook…
He grunted to himself as he replayed the punch he had just seen in his mind.
Granted, he had not gotten a good look at it, and it was very difficult to
measure swordsmen and pugilists on the same scale. Even so, that brief glimpse
had made Brain realize that the old man before him was incredibly skilled.
For all he knew, that old man might even be stronger than himself.
Brain bit his lower lip as he compared the profile of the old man’s face to the
list of martial exponents in his memory. However, he did not find a match.
Who on earth is he?
The old man left the crowd in an instant. A teenaged boy trailed behind him.
On a whim, Brain followed the boy, as though he had been hooked by some bait.
His instincts told him that the man had eyes in the back of his head, so did not
dare tail him directly. However, if he followed the youth, he would not have to
worry about being spotted. From a more cunning point of view, he would still be
safe even if the boy was discovered.
While following them, Brain sensed several other presences. However, Brain
did not care about them.
Before long, the two of them turned a corner and entered a darkened area.
Brain felt uneasy, because that move seemed like it was calculated to lure him
into a trap.
Doesn’t that kid find it strange? Just as he began to feel surprised, the boy spoke
to the old man.
The two of them spoke near the turning point of an alley. Thus, Brain took
cover around the bend and eavesdropped on them.
In summary, the boy was asking the old man to train him.
As if. An old man like that would never accept a punk like that as a disciple.
If one were to compare the two of them, the boy would be a pebble, while the
old man was a gigantic gemstone. The two of them lived in completely different
worlds.
…How sad. Not knowing how badly you’re outclassed is truly sad. Give it up, kid.
Brain did not speak those words, merely mumbled them to himself.
Those words were directed at the boy, and they were also a frank criticism of
an utter idiot who had once thought himself invincible — namely, his past self.
He continued listening in — although he had no interest in the brothel — and
it would seem that the old man was willing to train the youth up. Brain had no
idea what that kid had to offer that interested that amazing old man.
What’s this? Have I misjudged someone again? No, that can’t be. That kid has little
ability as a warrior. Surely he can’t have any talent!
How was the old man going to train him? He could only hear them from here,
but he could not see what was going on. Curious, Brain concealed his presence
and eased himself forward to spy on them. But before he knew it—
A terrifying aura shot through him.
He screamed wordlessly.
His entire body froze.
It felt like a massive carnivore pressing its face against his and exhaling all
over him. The oncoming torrent of murderous intent actually dyed the world a
different color. He could not even blink, much less move. For a moment he
thought his heart had stopped beating.
Brain felt that Shalltear Bloodfallen was the most powerful being in the world,
but what he felt now was comparable to her.
It might actually have stopped the heart of a weak-willed person.
His legs trembled, and then dumped him onto his butt upon the ground.
Even I’ve been reduced to this state. Doesn’t that mean that kid’s going to drop dead
on the spot?
If he were lucky, he might pass out first.
Brain crawled along the ground, nervously stealing a glance at the two of
them. What he saw shocked him to the core, to the point where he forgot his
fear for a moment.
The kid was still standing.
His legs were trembling like Brain’s had. But he was still standing.
What, what’s going on? Why is that talentless punk still on his feet?!
Brain could not understand why the youth could still stand while fear had
reduced his legs to a puddle of quivering jelly.
Did he have some sort of magic item or martial art which resisted fear? Or did
he have some special talent?
Indeed, there was no way to guarantee he did not possess such an item.
However, his instincts told him that none of the above applied as he looked at
the kid’s wavering back. The answer was hard to believe, but it was the only one
possible.
That kid was stronger than Brain.
Impossible! It can’t be!
 The kid looked like he had been training himself, but he did not have enough
muscle on him. After observing the way that the kid moved while trailing him,
Brain had concluded that the kid was hardly talented. And yet, this average kid
was standing where he had fallen.
What, what’s going on? Am I really that weak?
His vision blurred.
Brain knew he was crying, but he could not bring himself to wipe his tears.
He tried to swallow his moaning, but the tears continued flowing regardless.
“Why, ah… why?”
Brain clutched at the dirt and tried to force himself back to his feet. However,
the tsunami of killing will rendered him immobile. His legs refused to move, as
though under someone else’s control. All he could do was lift his head and watch
the two of them.
He saw a back.
The boy was still standing, even now.
The boy could still stand against that old man and his wave of murderous
intent. That feeble back now seemed so far out of his reach.
“Am I…”
Was he really that weak?
By the time the surge of bloodlust had dispersed like mist, he had only
managed to get back onto his feet. That fact frustrated Brain.
The old man and the boy looked like they were going to train further, but
Brain could no longer contain himself. Gathering up his courage, he rushed out
from around the corner and shouted:
“—Wait! Please wait!”
Brain no longer thought about not interrupting their training session, or even
picking a good time to make his appearance.
The youth turned around as he heard that desperate cry. His shoulders
shuddered and there was a look of shock on his face. In his position, Brain would
probably have done the same.
“First, please let me apologize to the two of you. I simply could not wait any
longer.”
“…Do you know him, Sebas-sama?”
“No, I do not. I see, so he was not a friend of yours either.”
The two of them turned suspicious looks on him, but Brain had already
expected as much.
 “Please allow this one to state his name. This one’s name is Brain Unglaus.
Please permit this one to apologize once more to the two of you. I really am very
sorry for this.”
He bowed lower than he had before, and he could sense a slight movement
from both of them.
After waiting for a sufficiently long time to convey his sincerity, Brain raised
his head, and he sensed that their caution towards him had dulled somewhat.
“Then, what brings you here?”
In response to the old man’s question, Brain glanced at the youth.
“How did you do it?”
As he saw the clueless look on the kid’s face, Brain asked once more, like he
was coughing up blood.
“How… how could you remain standing before that murderous intent?!”
The boy’s eyes went wide. Since he typically feigned a blank look on his face,
even this small change signaled a huge emotional upheaval inside him.
“I just wanted to know. That surge of bloodlust was more than most people
could bear. Even I… pardon, even this one could not endure it. Yet you were
different. You endured it. You stood against it. How did you do it? How did you
accomplish such a feat?!”
His excitement was making him repeat himself, but he could not tamp it
down. When faced with the overwhelming power of Shalltear Bloodfallen, he had
been so afraid that he had fled. Yet, this boy had faced the same degree of killing
will and held his ground. He wanted to know what the difference between them
was.
He had to find out, no matter the cost.
Brain seemed to have conveyed his earnest passion to the kid. He was
confused, but he carefully considered the matter before answering:
“…I don’t know. I don’t understand it myself. I have no idea how I could take
that storm of bloodlust. Still, maybe… maybe it was because I was thinking of
my liege.”
“…Your liege?”
“Yes. As long as I think of the great person whom I serve… I have the strength
to carry on.”
How could anyone endure like that for such a reason?! Brain almost shouted. But
before that, the old man quietly explained his meaning.
“In other words, his loyalty was sufficient to overcome his fear, Unglaus-san.
People can exert great strength for something they cherish. For instance, a
mother can hold up a pillar in a collapsing house to save her children, or a
husband could hold up his wife with one hand before she falls. I feel that is the
power of mankind. In other words, this young man has tapped on that power. It
is also not limited to him. As long as you have something which you will not
forsake, you will certainly be able to draw on strength you could never have
imagined.”
Brain could not believe it. His goal, the thing he would not forsake — was his
thirst for strength. But that was meaningless now. That dream had been
shattered with ease, and all he could do was run in fear.
Brain’s face turned gloomy, and he lowered his head to look at the ground.
Then, the old man’s next words made him jerk his head up again.
“…Something built up by yourself is fragile. Once you fall, it is the end for you.
Do not rely on yourself for everything. If you can build your confidence with
someone else and give of yourself for others, then you will not fall even if you
suffer a setback.”
Brain fell silent. Did he have something like that?
He could not think of anything. That was because he had abandoned
everything else save his quest for the sword. Could be that the things he had
discarded in his search for strength were actually the most important things?
Brain could not help but laugh. He laughed at his mistake-filled life. Neither
could he help the bitter complaint that next escaped him.
“I abandoned it all. Is it too late for me to take them back?”
“You’ll be fine. Even someone without talent like me managed to do it.
Someone like you can surely do it too, Unglaus-san! It’s definitely not too late
for you!”
There was no basis to the young man’s words. Yet, strangely enough, his
words warmed Brain’s heart.
“You really are a gentle and strong person… I am truly sorry.”
The boy froze as Brain apologized to him out of the blue.
Brain had taken such a brave lad as a punk and looked down on him.
I’m a fool. I’m such a fool…
“Ah, yes, you said you were called Brain Unglaus… were you the same Brain
Unglaus who fought Stronoff-sama to a draw in the past?”
“…So you knew that too… Did you watch that fight?”
“Ah, I didn’t. I just heard someone talk about it. Stronoff-sama said that you
were an amazing swordsman, and that you were easily in the running for the
strongest man in the Kingdom. After seeing your movements and calm poise, I
now realize the truth of Stronoff-sama’s words!”
Swamped by the sheer force of Climb’s goodwill, Brain struggled to stammer
out an answer.
“…Er, thanks… thank you. I feel I’ve got a long way to go, but it… pleases me
to receive such praise from you.”
“Hm… Unglaus-san.”
“Sir, please call me Unglaus. There is no need for you to be so formal to a
mook like myself.”
“In that case, I am Sebas Tian, but I hope you will call me Sebas… Now then,
Unglaus-kun.”
Being addressed as “-kun” embarrassed Brain a little, but given the difference
in their ages, such a term was only fitting.
“Can I entrust you with training of Climb-kun? I believe that will be beneficial
to you as well, Unglaus-kun.”
“Ah! Forgive me! My name is Climb, Unglaus-sama.”
“Were you not going to be trained by him… forgive me. Was Sebas-sama not
going to train you? I believe I interrupted the two of you while you were in the
middle of discussing something…?”
“Indeed. That was my original intention, but it would seem we have guests. I
had intended to call them over — ah, they are here. It would seem they took a
while to prepare themselves for battle.”
Sebas looked off to one side. Brain took a bit longer to look in the same
direction.
Three men slowly revealed themselves. They wore chain shirts and carried
sharp daggers in hands protected by heavy leather gloves.
They were not radiating hostility, but full-on murderous intent. Said intent
seemed to be directed at the old man, but they did not look like the kind who
would let witnesses live.
Brain was visibly shocked as he saw them, and he screamed:
“No way! They’re still coming even after feeling that bloodlust? Just how
strong are these people?!”
If that were the case, then each of them was probably on par with Brain — no,
they would be stronger than him. Could it be that their lousy tailing skills were
because they were trained warriors who were not adept at following others?
 And then, Sebas eased Brain’s worries.
“I trust you’re aware that I only directed my will at the two of you, right?”
“…Eh?”
Even Brain felt that his reply sounded very stupid.
“The murderous intent directed at Climb-kun was to train him. In your case,
it was because I did not know who you were, and wanted to draw you out. Either
that, or sap your will to fight, hostility and so on. But I viewed them as enemies
from the start, so I did not direct my killing intent at them. It would be bad to
frighten them off.”
Brain was shocked beyond the capacity to even express it as he heard Sebas
casually explain the startling truth. Being able to finely control killing will of that
intensity was beyond what he knew to be possible.
“I, I see. Then, do you know who they are, Sebas-sama?”
“I can guess. Still, I cannot be sure. Thus, I wish to capture one or two of them
for questioning. However—”
Sebas dipped his head in apology.
“It would seem I accidentally involved the two of you in this. May I trouble
the two of you to leave this place?”
“Before that, I wish to ask you a question. Are they… criminals?”
“…They feel that way to me. They’re obviously the evil-doing sort.”
A fire blazed up in Climb’s eyes as he heard Brain say that.
“Perhaps this might be getting in your way, but I wish to fight as well. As a
man who protects the public order of the Royal Capital, it falls to me to defend
its people as well.”
It’s not like we’re sure that Sebas is on the side of good here, Brain thought to
himself as he played devil’s advocate to that statement. Indeed, given his honest
and straightforward attitude, Sebas certainly seemed to be in the right compared
to that lot. However, they could not be sure of that.
He’s really green…
Still, he could understand how the kid felt.
Even Brain could instantly conclude who to help, between the man who had
saved a kid from a bunch of drunken toughs and the other men.
“Personally, I don’t really think you need the help, but… Sebas-sama. Please
allow me… er, no, please allow this one to lend you a hand.”
Brain took his place by Climb’s side. Sebas did not need their aid. Indeed, he
had even said that they could leave and he would be fine. However, he wanted to
learn from Climb, who fought for others. He wanted to choose the path he would
never have traveled in the past. He wanted to protect the boy with a strong heart,
but whose swordplay was lacking.
Brain saw the weapons they were holding, and frowned.
“Poison, is it… Using a double-edged sword like that indicates they ought to
have some experience under their belts… are they assassins?”
The daggers they were using were called mailbreakers. There were reservoirs
carved into the blades of their weapons, and said reservoirs reflected the oily
glow of a dangerous liquid. The fact that these men seemed to prioritize agility
and ease of movement — unlike professional swordsmen — was a better
indication of the truth than Brain’s self-directed mumblings.
“Climb-kun, you’d best be careful. Unless you have a magic item that resists
poison, don’t let them nick you so much as once.”
Someone with Brain’s level of physical prowess was pretty much immune to
poison, but people like Climb might succumb to strong toxins.
“They’ve appeared in front of us but they’re not making a move yet. Are they
waiting for the other two people to circle around behind us? Since this is a rare
opportunity, why don’t we break through them from the front?”
Sebas deliberately raised his voice loud enough for them to hear, and the
men’s movements froze. They had clearly been shaken by the exposure of their
encirclement plan.
“That seems about right. It would be safest to crush the ones in front and then
mop up the ones behind.”
It would seem Brain shared Sebas’ opinion. However, Sebas himself rejected
Brain’s words.
“Ah, but that would let them get away. How about this — I’ll deal with the
three in front, so could I leave the two circling around behind us to you?”
Brain nodded, and so did Climb. This was Sebas’ fight, and they were the ones
imposing on Sebas to let them help. They ought to listen to Sebas, so long as he
had not made any fatal errors.
“Alright, let’s go.”
After saying that to Climb, Brain turned his back on the men. The reason why
he dared show that defenseless side of himself to those men was because Sebas
was around. As he left his back to Sebas, he felt as safe as though he were
defended by a thick castle wall.
“Well then, while it is a shame… please allow me to be your opponent — oya,
please do not harbor any designs on those two, alright?”
Looking back, Brain saw Sebas with three daggers trapped between the fingers
of his right hand. He opened up his hand and the daggers which they had hurled
at the otherwise-vulnerable Brain and Climb clattered to the ground.
The men’s killing intent was getting weaker.
But of course. Anyone would lose the will to fight after seeing their thrown daggers
blocked in that way. Do you finally see how powerful Sebas-sama is now? However,
you’ve learned that too late.
They were all trapped within the old man’s palm. Even splitting up three ways
would not save them now.
“Amazing.”
Climb stood by Brain’s side,
“Indeed. I’d believe anyone who said that Sebas-sama was the strongest
warrior in the Kingdom.”
“Even stronger than the Warrior-Captain?”
“You mean Stronoff, right? Hm. Well, that old man is someone that I…
myself… … sorry, I’ll speak in a more relaxed tone now. Even if Stronoff and
myself went up against him at once, we’d still lose for sure… oh, here they come.”
The other two men had circled around and appeared behind them. Those two
were dressed the same way as the first three.
The sound of a sword clearing his sheath came from beside Brain, and a
moment later, Brain drew his own blade.
“They probably didn’t keep someone in hiding to throw knives at us because
that old man saw through them.”
Ambushes only worked when they were unexpected. If someone had seen
through it beforehand, then they would only be splitting up their forces. The
enemy must have judged that it would be better to attack all at once now that
they had been exposed.
“How naive… Climb-kun, I’ll take the one on the right. You handle the one on
the left.”
After examining their movements, Brain sensed that one of them was weaker
than the other and indicated as much to the youth beside him. The young man
nodded, and raised his sword. His unhesitating movements were those which
one could only find in those people who had fought for their lives. Brain was
relieved that he was not an untested newcomer to combat.
Climb-kun ought to have the advantage, but… given his opponent uses poison, it
might be a close-fought victory.
Even if Climb had actual combat experience, Brain did not feel that he was a
blooded warrior who had faced poison-using opponents. For all he knew, that
might be his first time doing so.
Even Brain had trouble against monsters who used flesh-corroding acids or
powerful venom. When fighting them, he became overly cautious and could not
bring his full might to bear.
Should I kill this guy immediately and then help him out? Would that help him?
Would it hurt his pride if I went out of my way to help him? Should I fight them on his
behalf? Or did Sebas-sama intend to help if there was any danger? If Sebas-sama
doesn’t step in, does it mean I should? To think the day would come when I’d actually
worry about something like this…
Brain scratched at his head with his free hand and stared down his foe.
“Alright. Do excuse me for using you as a sacrifice to make up for my time
spent idle.”

Three hits.
Sebas stepped into range of the three men, who could not even react to him,
much less defend themselves. Then he punched three times and the battle was
over.
But of course. Sebas occupied the pinnacle of Nazarick’s combat power. He
could deal with assassins of that caliber with only the tip of his little finger.
The men keeled over, collapsing limply to the ground like cuttlefish. Sebas
turned away from them and looked at the battle behind him.
Brain had overwhelmed his foe from start to finish, which put him at ease.
The assassin facing him seemed to be looking for a chance to flee, but Brain
did not let him off. In fact he even looked like he was toying with his opponent…
no, that was not playing with him. Sebas sensed that Brain was running through
his repertoire of moves to re-hone his rusty skills.
Right, I think I heard him say something about a “time spent idle.” Also, he seems to
be worried about Climb-kun. Thus he’s not fighting in earnest so he can come to his aid
at any time. He seems like quite a nice fellow.
Sebas turned his attention from Brain to Climb.
 Hm, he ought to be alright.
The battle went back and forth. The fact his opponent used poison made him
a little uneasy, but there did not seem to be a need to rescue him right away. He
felt uncomfortable about involving an outsider — particularly one whom he
favored — in his own matters, but—
If he hadn’t said he wanted to become stronger, I’d have gone to assist him. A fight
for one’s life is very good practice. I’ll help him if he’s in danger.
Sebas stroked his beard and observed Climb as he fought.
Climb blocked a thrust with his blade.
A trickle of cold sweat flowed down his back. It had almost hit his armor. A
hint of disappointment flashed across the cruel face of the man he was fighting.
Climb stabbed forward, measuring the distance between the two of them. He
noted that his foe was slowly backing off, and he did not want to let the man get
away.
Climb’s usual fighting style was to defend with the shield and simultaneously
attack with the sword. Being forced to fight with only his sword was a tortuous
experience. The poisoned blade also made him very nervous. Mailbreakers were
weapons specialized for thrusting attacks, so he knew he only had to worry about
thrusts. Even so, the fact that he could not allow himself to be so much as grazed
by the weapon made his movements stiff.
He calmed his breathing, which had been thrown into disarray by his physical
and mental fatigue.
The other guy’s the same too. I’m not the only one who’s tired.
His foe’s forehead was covered in sweat. The man used his agility to make a
mockery of his foe, which was a truly assassin-like way of fighting. Thus,
wounding any of his limbs would make him lose the advantage and upset the
balance of fighting power.
The battle would be decided in one hit.
This was the source of both parties’ tension. Granted, all evenly matched
battles were like that, but it was that much more obvious in this fight.
“Huuuh!”
With a sharp expulsion of breath, Climb swung at his foe. The swing moved
slowly and he did not put much force into it. That was because he would leave
himself wide open if he went for a full swing and his opponent dodged.
The assassin easily dodged it and reached into his breast pocket. Climb
observed the upcoming attack and kept an eye on the assassin’s hand.
 A dagger flew forth and Climb cut it out of the air with his sword.
He had been lucky. He had managed to deflect it since he was paying
attention.
However he could not breathe easy just yet. The assassin had already lowered
his stance and slid into attack range.
This is bad!
His spine turned to ice.
He could not block the follow-up hit. He had swung too hard when deflecting
the thrown dagger out of fear. His sword was now hanging out of position in
mid-air, and it was too late for him to turn it back to intercept his foe. He
thought to evade, but the assassin’s agility was superior to his own.
There was nothing else to be done. Maybe he could use his arm as a shield—
Just as he resolved himself, the incoming assassin clutched his face and
stumbled backwards.
It would seem a bean-sized pebble had struck the assassin just above the left
eye. Climb’s perceptions, heightened by the dangerous situation, confirmed that
fact.
He knew who had thrown it even without looking back. Sebas’ voice from
behind him was the best proof of that.
“Fear is an important emotion. But you cannot be ruled by fear. I have been
watching you fight from just now, and I feel that your fighting style is too plain
and conservative. If your foe had been willing to sacrifice one arm, you would
assuredly be dead. If your physical abilities are inferior to your opponent, then
you must defeat them with your spirit. The strength of one’s will can sometimes
surpass the weakness of one’s flesh.”
Climb answered “yes” in his heart, and he was quite surprised to find himself
much more relaxed. He did not feel like he could depend on someone else to
watch him, but he was relieved that someone else was watching him.
Of course, his fear of death was not completely gone, but even so—
“If… if I die, please tell Renner-sama… her Highness… about my glorious
battle.”
He expelled a long breath, and then silently brought his sword up into a ready
stance.
Climb sensed a gleam in the assassin’s eyes that was different from just now.
It had only been a short while, but he felt like he had connected with the
assassin’s spirit on some level during this life or death struggle.
 The assassin sensed that Climb was prepared for death, and he seemed to have
placed his life on the line as well.
He stepped forward, without saying a word, of course, and closed the distance
in a single move.
After verifying the assassin was within his attack range, Climb brought his
sword down in a scything chop. At that moment, the assassin leapt back. It would
seem the other man had gotten the measure of Climb’s swings and had used
himself as bait to make a feint at Climb.
However, the assassin had forgotten one thing.
Perhaps he might have grasped the speed of Climb’s. However, he did not
know this move. Climb had the utmost confidence in this downward strike of
his. It was faster than all his other moves, and more forceful.
The chop at the shoulder was stopped by the chain shirt and so it did not
cleave the man bodily in two. However, it easily broke his clavicle and crushed
his flesh along with his shoulder blade.
The assassin collapsed heavily to the ground. He was drooling from the
intense pain and howling in agony.
“Magnificent.”
Sebas appeared behind him and casually stomped on the assassin’s belly.
With that, the assassin fell silent, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
He must have fainted.
From the corner of his eye, he saw that Brain had already finished off his
assassin. He waved casually to Climb to celebrate his victory.
“Then, I shall begin the interrogation. If you have any questions, feel free to
ask.”
Sebas brought over one of the men and slapped him awake. The man regained
consciousness with a shudder, and Sebas placed his hand on the man’s head.
Sebas had not used much force but within two seconds the man’s head lolled
back, then snapped back to its original position like a pendulum.
The man’s eyes were now unfocused, like he was drunk.
Sebas began asking questions. The assassin, a man of a traditionally tight-
lipped profession, sang like a canary. Faced with this bizarre sight, Climb asked
Sebas: “What did you do to him?”
“This is a skill called the [Puppeteer’s Palm]… fortunately, it looks like it
worked.”
Climb had never heard that technique before, but he frowned at what the man
was saying.
They were assassins trained by Six Arms, the strongest combatants of Eight
Fingers. They had apparently followed Sebas in order to kill him. Brain asked
Climb:
“…I don’t know much about them, but Eight Fingers ought to be a major crime
syndicate, right? I think they have connections with some mercenaries…”
“Yes, and Six Arms are the scariest of them all. Six Arms refers to the six
fighters who make up the organization’s strongest fighting force. I heard that
each of them can rival an adamantite-ranked adventurer. However, I’m not sure
exactly who those six people are, since I’m not too clear on the details of their
organization.”
The man went on to say that Succulent, the one who had visited Sebas’ house,
was a member of Six Arms, known as the “Phantom Devil.” His plan was
apparently to eliminate Sebas and do as he pleased with the young lady of the
house.
As he heard this, Climb felt a chill wind blow over him. The source of that cold
was Sebas.
Sebas slowly rose, and Brain addressed him.
“What do you plan to do next, Sebas-sama?”
“I have decided. First, I will destroy that troublesome place. Besides, it would
seem that Succulent is there as well, according to this man. It is best to stamp
out fires before they can grow.”
Brain and Climb both inhaled sharply at that casual answer.
The fact that he had declared his intention to fight his way into the enemy
headquarters indicated that he was confident of defeating an adamantite-ranked
adventurer — in other words, a man whose fighting power was at the zenith of
human achievement.
However, neither of them was surprised.
He could defeat three skilled assassins in the blink of an eye and even the renowned
Unglaus-sama showed deference to him. What sort of man is Sebas-sama? Could he be
a retired adamantite-ranked adventurer?
“…Also, I hear that there are other captives in there. It would be best to move
quickly.”
“That makes sense. If the assassins do not return, it will arouse suspicion. We
will not be able to save the captives if they are moved elsewhere.”
Sebas was in a situation where time was not on his side, but on the enemy’s.
 “Then I shall be heading there presently. I apologize, but I am set in my
course. Can I trouble the two of you to drag these assassins to the nearest guard
post?”
“Please wait, Sebas-sama! If you don’t mind, could you let me… could you let
this one lend you a hand? Of course, that is only if you are willing.”
“Me too. Protecting the peace of the Royal Capital is my duty as Renner-
sama’s loyal servant. If the Kingdom’s citizens are being oppressed, this sword
of mine shall hasten to their aid.”
“…I don’t think Unglaus-kun will have a problem, but it might be a bit
dangerous for you.”
“I understand that.”
“Climb-kun… I guess Sebas-sama thinks you might get in the way, no?
Although, I’m probably the same as you in his eyes.”
“No, no, that was not what I meant. I was simply worried about you. I hope
you understand that I cannot protect you like I did just now.”
“I am prepared for that.”
“…What I am doing next might not win honor for you or your mistress, you
know? I feel that there will be other chances for you to stake your life in battle,
do you not think so?”
“If I watch mutely from the side because things are dangerous, that’ll only
prove that I am a man who does not deserve to serve his mistress. Just as my
mistress saved the common folk, I too wish to do everything I can to lend a
helping hand to those who are in dire straits.”
Just like how she reached her hand out to me—
Sebas and Brain looked at each other. Perhaps they had sensed his iron
determination.
“…Are you prepared for this?” Sebas asked.
Climb nodded.
“I understand. That being the case, there is nothing else to be said. I hope the
two of you will lend me a hand.”
Chapter 5 Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks
 Chapter 5 | Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 12:07

“The brothel is just behind this door. According to the assassin, there ought
to be an entrance in the building over there too.”
Sebas stood at the entrance to the brothel, in front of the door where Tsuare
had been thrown out. Then, he pointed at a building several houses away. Brain
and Climb had been present when he was questioning the assassin, but they had
not been to the brothel before, and they accepted Sebas’ explanation at face
value.
“Indeed, that is so. The entrances can also serve as escape routes, and that
person said they’d be manned by at least two people. If we’re splitting up, we
should let you handle the main door, Sebas-sama, while Climb and I take the
other entrance. What do you think?”
“I am not opposed to that. How about you, Climb-kun?”
“I have no objections either. Still, what will we do after we break in, Unglaus-
sama? Shall we search together?”
 “Call me Brain in future. This one also humbly requests you do the same,
Sebas-sama. Then… usually, we ought to move in pairs for safety’s sake, but there
might be secret tunnels which even the assassin hasn’t heard of. We should
search the interior as quickly as possible while Sebas-sama makes his assault
from the front. Also, there are usually passages which only the boss knows,”
Brain added quietly.
“In that case, should we split up after going in?”
“…We’re taking a risk just going in anyway. Might as well try for the best
results we can.”
Sebas and Climb nodded at Brain’s statement.
“Could I ask you to search the interior, Un— Brain-sama? You’re stronger
than me, after all.”
“Very well. Then please watch over the exit over there, Climb-kun.”
One was more likely to encounter enemies when searching the inside of the
building. It went to follow that the task would thus be more dangerous.
Therefore, it was best left to Brain, who was much stronger than Climb.
“So that’s it for our final checks, then?”
They had already discussed this matter on the way to the brothel, but there
were some decisions which could only be made after seeing the place in person.
They would hash out the details here, and nobody contradicted Sebas’
statement.
Sebas stepped forward, moving up to the solid-looking metal door. Climb
would never be able to budge that door, but to Sebas it was little more than
tissue paper.
The defenses were bound to be heaviest in this place, but neither of them were
worried about Sebas charging in there by himself. After all the aggressor was
someone whom even Gazef Stronoff — renowned as the mightiest warrior in
the surrounding nations — and Brain Unglaus — who could fight Gazef to a draw
— could not hope to defeat even if they joined forces. This was no longer within
the sphere of human ability.
“Then let us proceed. According to the assassin, the secret signal at the other
entrance is knocking four times on the door. I doubt either of you have
forgotten, but I doubt a reminder will hurt.”
“Thank you, Sebas-sama.”
Climb had not forgotten, but he thanked Sebas anyway.
“Also, I will try to take them alive, but if they resist, I will slay them without
mercy. I trust there will be no problems with that?”
Brain and Climb felt a chill down their spines as they saw Sebas’ gentle smile.
His methods were perfectly sound. Both of them would probably have done
the same if they were in Sebas’ shoes. Even so, a thrill of fear pierced their backs,
because Sebas’ expression and his words made him seem like he had a split
personality.
He was both a kindly gentleman and a cold-blooded warrior. He contained
both humanity and heartlessness within himself to an extreme degree.
They had a premonition that if Sebas went in like this, he might end up
slaughtering everyone inside.
Climb nervously told Sebas:
“I feel that taking a few lives is unavoidable, but it might be good to avoid
needless killing. We are few in number, after all. Still, if you encounter someone
in charge who looks like they’re from Eight Fingers, could I trouble you to try
and capture them? If we can interrogate a big figure among them, we can reduce
the number of lives lost in the future.”
“I am not a mass murderer, and I did not come here for a massacre. Please be
at ease.”
Climb was relieved to see Sebas’ smile.
“Please forgive me. We shall leave the rest to you.”

“Now then, destroying this place in one go ought to buy some time.”
Sebas felt that wrecking this brothel ought to put a stop to their interference
with his life. If things went well and he managed to obtain secret documents or
the like, they might end up too busy dealing with the fallout to bother about
Tsuare at all.
However badly things went, he could give Tsuare a chance to escape as long
as he managed to buy some time. And who knew, he might be able to find a better
solution.
“There was a merchant in E-Rantel who approached me for a cordial chat. I
wonder if he could help?”
Tsuare would still need someone trustworthy to aid her even if she managed
to pull herself together. That was the only way she would have a better life.
 Sebas turned to face the heavy steel door once more. He remembered that day
when Tsuare had been dumped here as he touched the door’s surface. It was
made of wood sheathed in metal plates, making it both thick and heavy. It was
immediately apparent that an ordinary human being would have a lot of trouble
breaking this door down without tools.
“I wonder if Climb-kun is alright.”
He was not worried about the man called Brain Unglaus. Even if he crossed
blades with Succulent, he probably would not lose. However, Climb was a
different matter. There was no way that Climb could beat Succulent.
It had been Sebas’ idea to storm the brothel, so as one volunteering his
assistance, Climb should have been prepared for his own death. However, Sebas
could not help but think that the young, compassionate man who only wanted
to help would end up losing his life for nothing.
“I wish young men like him could live longer…”
Those words were characteristic of a senior citizen. However, Sebas had been
made in the form of an old man. He was technically younger than Climb, if one
counted from their moment of genesis until right now.
“It would be best if I took down Succulent by myself. That would be the most
ideal course of events. I hope they don’t run into him.”
Sebas prayed to the 41 Supreme Beings for Climb’s safety.
If Succulent was the strongest fighter here, it was very likely he would be
pitted against Sebas. However, if he were a bodyguard, he might be assigned to
escort his charge to safety.
Feeling a little anxious, Sebas grabbed the door’s handle and turned.
It stopped halfway through its turn. Naturally, the door to an underground
enterprise like this would be locked.
“I am not adept at opening locks. However… it can’t be helped. I’ll do it my
way,” Sebas muttered to himself in frustration. Then he lowered himself and
folded his right hand into a knife-hand, moving his left hand forward as he took
a stance. Said stance was immaculate, as stable as the mountains and as
picturesque as a thousand-year-old cedar tree.
“Yeeart!”
What followed next was an unbelievable sight.
His arm sank into the metal door, at the hinge. No, the arm was still making
grinding noises as it bored its way into the door.
The hinges shrieked as they were torn from the wall.
 Sebas opened the unresisting door.
“What… the hell…?”
Inside was a passage which ended at a pair of double doors. In front of that
stood a bearded powerhouse of a man. His mouth was open and he had a
retarded look on his face.
“The door was rusty, so I had to use a bit of force to open it. You should
probably oil the hinges.”
Saying so, Sebas closed the door. No, it would be more accurate to say that he
leaned the door against the frame.
While the man was still frozen in shock, Sebas stepped inside without any
hesitation whatsoever.
“—Oi, what was that?”
“The hell was that noise?!”
More male voices came from behind the first one.
However, the man facing Sebas did not bother about them. Instead, he
addressed Sebas:
“…Er… W-welcome?”
Completely baffled, the man stood stock still as Sebas walked up to him. The
people working here were used to violence. However, the scene before him far
exceeded what he had encountered in his accumulated experiences.
The man smiled to Sebas in an ingratiating manner, ignoring the shouted
queries of his colleagues from behind him. His survival instinct told him that the
best choice here was to get into Sebas’ good graces. Or no; perhaps he had
reacted like this because he had deceived himself into thinking Sebas was the
butler of one of the customers here.
The sight of a big, bearded man trying to keep a twitching smile on his face
was quite hard to bear.
Sebas smiled back at him. That smile was gentle and compassionate. Yet,
there was no trace of goodwill in his eyes. It was more like a deadly, entrancing
gleam of light playing along a razor-sharp sword’s edge.
“Could I trouble you to let me pass?”
Thump. Or rather, it was more of a splat. A nauseating sound echoed
throughout the interior.
He was a muscular man in armor. He weighed 85 kilograms at the very least.
He now spun through the air like some kind of joke, flying to the side at speeds
invisible to the naked eye. His body savagely impacted the nearby wall with a wet
splattering sound.
The entire building shook violently, as though a giant’s fist had struck it.
“…Oh dear. I should have killed him deeper inside. That way he’d have made
a better barricade… ah well. There’s more coming anyway, so I just need to be
more careful afterward.”
After admonishing himself to go easier next time, Sebas walked past the
corpse and headed within.
He flung the doors open and entered the room beyond. It was an exquisitely
furnished viewing room. It felt more like he was walking through an empty
house than invading an enemy base.
There were two men within.
Their eyes goggled open and their jaws dropped as they looked behind Sebas,
at the enormous blood splatter that had painted the entire wall red.
The smell of cheap alcohol hung in the air — a scent which one would never
find in Nazarick. It blended immediately with the stench of fresh blood, viscera
and internal wastes, brewing up a revolting odor.
Sebas went over the information he had obtained from Tsuare and the
assassin, then tried to figure out the building’s structure. Her memories were
spotty and she had not recalled anything important, but she had told Sebas that
the actual establishment was located underground. The assassin had not gone
underground himself, so his information would be no good after this.
He looked to the ground. However, the trapdoor leading underground was
cunningly concealed, and Sebas could not find it.
Still, if he could not find it, then all he had to do was ask someone who knew
where it was.
“Excuse me. I’d like to ask you a question…”
“Aiiiiieee!”
The man he addressed immediately responded with a hoarse scream. It would
seem that he had no intention of putting up a fight.
That relieved Sebas. Whenever he thought of Tsuare, he could not control his
fists, and he would slay his opposition in a single blow.
Since he had no intention to fight, breaking both his legs ought to be enough.
The terrified man backed away from Sebas, trembling against the wall as he
did. Sebas looked dispassionately on the man’s shameful display, and smiled
thinly with his mouth alone.
“Aiiiiiiieeeee!”
 That frightened the man even more. The stench of ammonia filled the room.
It would seem he had scared the man too badly. Sebas wrinkled his brow.
The other man had collapsed to the ground. His eyes had rolled up in his skull
so all that could be seen were the whites. Apparently the extreme pressure had
been too much for him, and he had passed out. The other man looked on him in
envy.
“Ah… Like I was saying, I’d like to ask you a question. It’s like this — I would
like to go underground. Could you tell me how to get there?”
“…That, that’s…”
The man was too afraid to betray his organization. Sebas could see the fear in
his eyes. Much like those assassins, this man seemed to be afraid of reprisals
from his organization. Sebas recalled the man he had met that night and how he
had run away with Sebas’ money. The retribution in question was probably
synonymous with “death.”
The man was still hesitating over whether or not to speak when Sebas cut
through his reluctance with his next words.
“There are two people who can speak here. I don’t necessarily have to ask you,
you know?”
The man’s forehead broke out in oily sweat, and his back shuddered.
“Th-th-here! Over there! There’s a hidden door there!”
“Over there, hm.”
Sebas looked where the man had indicated. At a closer look, there was a tiny
crevice in the ground, separating part of the floor from the rest.
“I see. Thank you. Your usefulness to me is now at an end.”
Sebas smiled, and the man realized would happen to him after those words.
His face turned gray and he trembled uncontrollably. Still, he clung to a faint
hope and cried:
“Please, please don’t, don’t kill me!”
“No.”
Sebas’ prompt answer froze the room solid. The man’s eyes went wide, in the
way humans did when they were trying to reject a reality they did not want to
believe.
“But I told you, didn’t I? Please, I’ll do anything, just spare me!”
“Indeed you did. However…”
Sebas sighed deeply.
“I cannot.”
 “Are… are you kidding me?”
“You can take it as a jest if you wish. However, the outcome will still be the
same, no?”
“…Oh… god…”
Sebas recalled the tragic state of Tsuare when he had rescued her, and he
narrowed his eyes.
What right did villains have to beg the gods for aid? More to the point, Sebas’
gods were the 41 Supreme Beings. The man’s plea was like an insult to them.
“You reap what you sow.”
Those words, as cold and hard as steel, slashed through all hope and made the
man painfully aware of his own demise.
Would he choose to fight, or would he choose flight? Given only an instant to
decide, the man chose immediately — he chose flight.
He would meet an unspeakable fate if he dared fight Sebas. That much went
without saying. In that case, he might as well flee. Doing so would grant him a
faint possibility of survival.
He was correct to think that way.
By doing so, he had prolonged his life by a few seconds… or rather, a few tenths
of a second.
The man ran towards the door. Sebas caught up with him in an instant, and
his body whirled. A swift wind blew across the man’s head, and his body
collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A ball hit the wall and slid to
the ground, trailing blood in its wake.
A moment later, the man’s headless body spewed a geyser of blood from its
neck, covering the ground in gore.
That technique was nigh-unto divine. Just the feat of decapitating someone
with a roundhouse kick would have required incredible strength and speed, but
the most impressive thing was that Sebas’ shoes had not been stained at all.
Sebas’ leather shoes padded across the ground to the other, unconscious man.
He raised his leg and stamped, hard. There was a sound like dry branches
breaking. The man twitched several times, and then his body went still.
“…When you look back on everything you have done so far, is this fate not to
be expected? Still, be at ease. Your bodies will be used to make some small
amends for your sins.”
Sebas reached for the corpses.
His plan was to mutilate the cadavers and arrange them on the steps as a
warning to frighten anyone who intended to flee via the stairs and leave them
unable to advance or retreat. Sebas did so since he could not wreck the exit.
After arranging the collected corpses, Sebas walked towards the hidden door
in the floor.
First, there was the sound of metal components breaking. Then, there was a
large hole in the ground. The smashed door slid down the stairs below with a
resonant crash.
“I see… if I destroy this staircase, they should not be able to escape through
here.

It was a small room.

The only furniture in this almost-empty room was a cabinet and a bed.
The mattress was not a simple mass of straw bedding, but an actual cotton-
stuffed mattress. It was well made, of the sort that noble homes might use.
However, this mattress was designed for functionality and so it looked plain,
without any decorating.
A naked man sat on the mattress.
He was well into his middle years, and gluttony had made his frame flabby.
His looks had originally been average at best, but putting on the pounds had
made him that much uglier. He looked like a pig from every angle.
Incidentally, pigs are intelligent and cute animals who love cleanliness. The
word “pig” in this case is a derogatory term used to describe stupid, boorish and
filthy people.
His name was Stefan Havish.

He raised his fist — and punched down onto the mattress.

The sound of flesh striking flesh rang forth.
A look of delight blossomed on Stefan’s face. The sensation of smashing flesh
traveled up his arm, and his body shivered even as goosebumps of pleasure
sprouted on him.
“Uhhh…”
 He slowly raised his fist, whose knuckles were now stained with sticky gore.
Stefan was pressing down a naked woman.
Her face was swollen and bruised, and the skin was flecked with spots of
blood. Her nose was broken and the blood leaking from it had clotted on her
skin. Her lips and eyelids were similarly swollen, completely distorting her
originally beautiful face. There were bruises on the rest of her body, but the
damage was worst on her face. The sheets around them were stained with old,
dried blood.
She had been trying to protect her face with her hands until just now, but now
her arms lay limp on the bed. Her hair spread out messily on the mattress, like
it was floating in water.
“Oi, what’s with you? Tired already? Huh?!”
The woman seemed to be unconscious.
Stefan raised his fist and punched downwards.
With a thud, his fist connected with her cheekbone, and pain surged up
Stefan’s hand.
His face twisted.
“Cheh. That hurt, you bitch!”
He angrily punched her again.
The mattress creaked in time with the thud of flesh striking flesh. Her swollen
skin split, staining his knuckles with blood. Said blood splattered stickily onto
the mattress, dying it with carmine spots.
“…Uuuu…”
The woman no longer struggled despite the beating. There was no response
from her body.
Non-stop bludgeoning like this could end up killing someone. However, the
woman had survived, but not because Stefan had been merciful. The woman
clung to life because the mattress had dissipated the force of the blows. Had she
been beaten while lying on a harder bed, she might well be dead by now.
Stefan had been brutal, but not because he knew about that effect of the
mattress. Rather, it was because the woman’s death did not concern him. All that
was needed was to pay to dispose of the problem.
In truth, Stefan had beaten several women to death in this place.
However, he had to pay for the cleanup every time he killed someone, which
strained his wallet. Thus, he unconsciously went easy on them.
As he looked down at the woman’s unmoving face, Stefan licked his lips.
 This brothel was perfect for satisfying unique sexual fetishes. Normal
bordellos would not permit their customers to do such things. Well, perhaps
they might, but Stefan did not know of any such places.
Life was good when slavery had been permitted.
Slaves were a form of property, and people who manhandled them had been
scorned. It was just like how others would roll their eyes at people who threw
their money around.
However, slaves had been the only way for someone like Stefan — with his
special sexual preferences — to satisfy his desires. Without them, Stefan had
been forced to slake his lust in this place. Who knew what would have happened
had he not known about this establishment?
There was no doubt that he would have committed a crime and gotten
arrested.
Stefan was practically tearing up in gratitude towards his noble master, who
had recommended this place to him. Naturally, it was so that he could use his
power for his master’s benefit.
“Thank you — my master.”
A look of calm came over Stefan’s eyes. It was hard to imagine that he could
be so grateful to his liege given his personality and his sexual proclivities.
However—
The embers of a flame blazed up in the depths of his belly — the flames of
wrath.
This emotion was directed at the woman who had deprived him of slaves with
which to satisfy his lusts.
“—That bitch!”
His face turned red with anger, and his eyes were bloodshot.
He imagined the face of the Royal whom he should have been serving — the
Princess — on the body of the woman beneath him. Stefan gathered the anger
within himself into his fist, and laid into the helpless woman.
Fresh blood flew with every blow he struck.
“If only, if only I could smash that face of hers! How good would that feel!”
He rained punch after punch into the woman’s face.
His fist struck her cheek, and a surprising quantity of blood spurted from
between the woman’s swollen lips. Perhaps she had cut the inside of her mouth
on her teeth.
The woman’s sole response to this beating was to tremble slightly.
 “—Huu… huu…”
After a few more strikes, Stefan was panting as his shoulders rose and fell. His
body and forehead were slick with sweat.
Stefan looked at the woman he had pinned underneath him. Her condition
could only be described as “tragic,” and she was close to death at this point.
What lay there was a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Stefan swallowed audibly.
Nothing pleased him more than to rape a battered and bloody woman. The
prettier she had originally been, the better. There was no better way to satisfy
his sadistic desires than to destroy something beautiful.
“If only I could fuck that woman like this…”
Stefan thought of the haughty features which belonged to the young lady of
the house which he had just visited. She was as beautiful as the Princess, who
was herself known as the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom.
Of course, Stefan was very clear that he would not have the chance to abuse
such a high-class lady. The only people Stefan could indulge his fetishes with
were the dregs of humanity who had been dumped into this brothel, to be used
and then discarded.
Such a beautiful woman would surely be bought up by a wealthy and powerful
noble for a huge sum. She would then be spirited away to his domain and live in
seclusion, in order to keep her sale from becoming public knowledge.
“How I wish I could beat up a woman like that — beat her to death.”
How happy and satisfied would he be if he could do that?
Of course, that was nothing more than a madman’s ravings.
Stefan looked down at the woman crushed beneath him. Her bare bosom was
moving slightly. He smiled lewdly as he confirmed that fact.
Stefan reached down to grab the woman’s breasts, deforming the soft flesh
between his fingers.
The woman did not react at all. She was on the verge of death and could not
respond to such trivial pain. The woman Stefan was squeezing differed from a
doll only in the softness of her body.
However, Stefan was somewhat dissatisfied by her lack of resistance.
Save me!
Spare me!
I’m sorry!
Please, stop!
 The woman’s cries echoed in Stefan’s mind.
Should he have fucked her while she still had the strength left to scream?
Stefan continued squeezing her breasts, a vague sense of regret in his heart.
Most of the women who had been sent to this brothel were no longer in a right
state of mind. They had chosen to run away from reality. When one took that
into consideration, the woman chosen to serve Stefan today had been better off
than most.
“Was that woman like this too?”
Stefan imagined Tsuare. He had no interest in what happened to the brothel
employee who had let her go.
However, when he thought of the butler he had encountered during his visit,
Stefan could not suppress the mocking laughter in his heart.
That thing had coupled with countless men, and even with female or
nonhuman partners. There was no point in protecting her at all. And yet that old
butler had said he was willing to pay hundreds of gold coins for her. It was a
miracle he had not laughed out loud on the spot.
“Ah, the woman who ran away screamed very well too.”
He searched through his memories and recalled her wails. She had been fairly
normal by the standards of the girl sent to this brothel.
Stefan smiled lewdly, and began to slake his bestial lust. He seized one of the
pinned woman’s bare legs and spread it wide. Her emaciated, slender leg was
thin enough that Stefan could encircle it with one hand.
Stefan pressed himself between the woman’s legs.
As he grasped his tool, now turgid from the burning desire that consumed his
body—
—The door behind him clicked, and slowly opened.
“Ah!”
Stefan hurriedly turned back, and a vaguely familiar old man appeared within
his field of view. Then, he remembered who that old man was.
It was the butler he had met at that mansion.
The soles of the old man’s — Sebas’ — shoes clicked neatly as he walked into
the room. Stefan was speechless in the face of his casual, natural movements.
What was that house’s butler doing here? Why had he come to this room?
Stefan’s mind went blank in the face of this inexplicable situation.
Sebas walked up to Stefan. Then, he saw the woman crushed beneath Stefan’s
bulk.
 After that, Sebas directed an incomparably frigid glare at Stefan.
“You like to beat people, do you?”
“Ah!”
The strange mood in the air drove Stefan to rise as he went for his clothes.
However, Sebas moved faster than him.
A thwap resounded in Stefan’s ears, and then his vision shook wildly.
A beat later, Stefan’s right cheek caught fire as burning, stinging heat radiated
out from it.
He had been struck — no, in this case it would be more appropriate to say he
had been slapped. It took a while for Stefan to realize that.
“Damn you, how dare—”
A ringing thwap resounded off Stefan’s face. It was soon followed by many
more.
Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right—
“Stahp—!”
Stefan had always been the one who hit others. Nobody had ever hit him.
These few blows left him in tears.
He raised his hand to protect his face as he stumbled back in retreat.
His cheeks throbbed with pain, as though they had been scalded.
“Dah, dahh hyu! Howh dahhe hyu do hiss hoo meeeh!”
His swollen, reddened cheeks hurt whenever he spoke.
“Is there a problem?”
“Orhhh courrhh herr ihh! Ihiot! Hoo oo hyuu hink hai ahhm?!”
“Just another moron.”
Sebas closed in on the retreating Stefan and with a thwap! he dealt out yet
another resounding slap.
“Hop ihh! Pleeehe hop ihh!”
Stefan covered his face like a child being struck by his parents.
He liked using violence, but he had always used it on those weaker than him.
Even if Sebas appeared to be just another old man, Stefan would not dare raise
his hand to him. He would only make his move when he was absolutely certain
that his victim could not fight back.
Perhaps he had sensed Stefan’s craven nature, but Sebas lost interest in him
and looked back to the girl.
“How tragic…”
Stefan ran past Sebas as he stood over the girl.
 “Youh ihiot!” Stefan fumed.
What a foolish old man.
He was going to gather everyone in this place to teach this old man a painful
lesson. How dare he strike someone like himself! He would not go easy on the
old man. Stefan would make sure he had his fill of pain and fear.
The image of the butler’s mistress, the angelic-seeming girl, appeared in
Stefan’s mind.
The mistress would have to take responsibility for her servant’s mistakes. He
would have her bear the burden of the pain that the old man had caused him.
Stefan would teach that old man exactly who he had hit.
As those dark thoughts went through his mind, Stefan charged out the door
as his beer belly jiggled violently.
“Homeone! Homeone help meehh!” he shouted.
Surely an employee would come to check on him if he called for help.
However, his hopes were dashed the moment he stepped into the hallway.
The passage was silent.
It was as though nobody was around.
Stefan looked around nervously, still naked.
The bizarre silence of the hallway filled him with fear.
At a glance, there were several doors on both sides of him. It was only natural
that nobody would answer him. This place catered to clients with exotic tastes
— dangerous ones, in fact. Thus the rooms were all soundproofed.
However, there was no way the employees would not have heard.
He had seen several of them when he had been brought to his room just now.
Each of them was a burly man with bulging muscles. How could an old man like
Sebas compare?
“Why’h hobodyh homingh?!”
“—They are all either dead or unconscious,” said the calm voice which
answered Stefan’s cry.
Turning back, Stefan saw Sebas standing serenely behind him.
“There were apparently quite a few of them… though most of them are asleep
now.”
“Thah… thah impohhible! Howh mahy peoperh do hyu hink arhe herhe
ahywahy?!”
“…There were three who looked like employees on top and ten more down
below. There were seven others like you.”
 What nonsense are you babbling?! Stefan looked incredulously at Sebas.
“In any case, nobody here, upstairs or downstairs, can save you. Even if the
staff did wake up, I have already broken their arms and legs. All they can do is
crawl like caterpillars.”
Stefan’s expression was one of utter shock. Impossible, he thought but the air
within the brothel proved the truth of Sebas’ words.
“Alright, I do not think there is a need to spare your life. That being the case,
please die here.”
Sebas did not draw a sword or ready any sort of weapon. He simply walked up
to Stefan in silence, like it was the most natural thing in the world. That
nonchalance only served to frighten Stefan, because he knew Sebas truly wanted
him dead.
“Wahe! Wahe!! Aih khen gihe hyu… uh… Aih khen gihe hyuu ha hot ohhh
muhnehh!”
“…I do not quite understand what you are saying. I believe you are attempting
to offer me an inducement, am I correct? I see… not interested.”
“Whah harr hyuu dhoing thihh?!”
What have I done to deserve this? Why do I have to die? Stefan finally got his
message across to Sebas for the first time.
“…Do you not know, even after searching your heart?”
Stefan considered everything he had done until now. What had he done
wrong?
Sebas sighed.
“…Really now?”
As he said that, Sebas savagely kicked Stefan in the gut and sent him flying.
“So that is what they mean when they say that something is not worth keeping
alive.”
Stefan was wracked with incredible pain as several of his internal organs
ruptured within him. The agony was such that a man might writhe and suffer
until he died, but Stefan remained conscious, though his mind was a blur.
It hurts!
It hurts!
It hurts!
He wanted to scream and roll around on the ground, but he was immobile
from the intense pain.
“Rest in peace. Or not, as it were,” a cold voice said to Stefan’s soon-to-be
corpse.
Stefan wanted to cry out for help, but his throat would not respond.
A drop of sweat trickled into his eye and his vision became blurry. Still, he
could make out Sebas’ receding back.
Save me!
Please save me!
I’ll pay you anything you want, so please save me!
Nobody could answer his silent plea for help.
In the end, Stefan Havish suffered unimaginable pain in his abdomen as he
slowly died.
 2

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 12:12

“Climb-kun, we should kill everyone up here. I don’t have anything to bind
them with, and if they raise the alarm we’ll be in trouble. Even if we knock them
out, they might wake up. Under the circumstances, it’s just too risky to try and
subdue a location we don’t know anything about… is something wrong?
“Ah, no, it’s nothing.”
Climb shook his head to chase away his uneasiness. His hearted pounded
within his chest, but he tried his best to ignore it.
“Forgive me. I’m alright over here. Ready to go at any time.”
“Really? …Hm, looks like you’re a different person. You’ve been acting strange
ever since we got here, but you’ve got a warrior’s face on you now. I do
understand how you feel, because there’s a powerful enemy here that you can’t
beat at the moment. Still, don’t worry. I’m here and so is Sebas-sama. Focus on
staying alive to keep your spirits up.”
Brain patted Climb on the back, then knocked on the door four times with the
hand that was not holding his sword.
Climb clutched his weapon tightly as well.
The sound of heavy footsteps came from behind the door. Then they heard
the sound of locks disengaging — three, to be precise.
In the instant which the door opened, Climb pulled it wide open, in
accordance with the plan.
Brain had already slashed his way in before the people inside could even cry
out in surprise. There was the sound of a body being cut apart, followed by that
of a heavy object hitting the ground.
Climb was a step behind Brain as he charged inside.
He entered just in time to see Brain cut down his second man. There was one
more person within the room, a man in leather armor and carrying a short
sword. Climb rushed him and closed the distance in an instant.
“Ah! Who the hell are you?!”
The man stabbed at Climb with his blade, but Climb easily deflected it with
his sword.
After that, Climb raised his sword high, and brought it down on the man from
above.
The man tried to block it with his dagger, but a mere short sword could not
withstand a strike with Climb’s full weight behind it. Climb’s sword deflected
the short sword away and his blade sank into the man’s shoulder, carving
through his larynx.
The man cried out in pain as he collapsed to the ground, and Climb could not
believe the human body could contain that much blood. His opponent twitched
and spasmed on the ground as he lay dying.
After verifying the wound he had dealt was mortal, Climb rushed deeper into
the room, riding the flow of the battle while remaining alert. No enemies came
out from hiding to meet him. He could hear Brain running up the stairs to the
second floor behind him.
The furniture here was plain and ordinary. Climb made sure there were no
enemies here before moving on to the next room.
A minute passed.
Having checked their assigned floors and satisfied themselves that there were
no other enemies, Climb and Brain met at the entrance.
“I went over the first floor, but I didn’t see any enemies.”
“Same with the second floor. They didn’t even have beds there, so that means
they don’t live in this place… I’m sure of it, there has to be a secret passage
leading to the place where they’re staying.”
“Did you find it? I’m pretty sure it’s not on the third floor.”
“Nope, nothing like that. But if what you said is right, it ought to be on the
first floor, Climb-kun.”
Climb and Brain exchanged looks, and then looked inside the building.
Climb had not learned any thief skills, so he could not detect secret doors just
by looking. If there had been some flour here, and they had the time, they might
be able to thoroughly scatter it around to find the hidden passage.
The flour particles would fall into the seams of the secret doors and make
them easy to spot. However, they lacked both the flour and the time to scatter
it. Therefore, Climb produced the magic items from his waist pouch.
These were the handbells given to him by Gagaran of Blue Rose. She had said,
“It’s dangerous to adventure without a thief buddy, but you have to do it
sometimes. In those situations, having an item like this can make a huge
difference.”
Climb looked at the designs on each of the bells, and picked the one he needed
from them.
The magic item he selected was called the Bell of Detecting Secret Doors.
Climb sensed Brain looking interestedly at the bell, and he shook it. The bell
produced a pure note which only its holder could hear.
In response to the bell, a corner of the ground glowed with a pulsing pale
white light, telling him that there was a secret door there.
“Oh, that’s a handy magic item. Mine all enhance myself; they’re only useful
in battle.”
“But any warrior would obviously choose such items, right?”
“A warrior, huh…”
Climb left Brain, who was smiling sadly to himself. He memorized the
position of the hidden door and then he walked a circuit around the first floor.
The effects of that magic item would only last for a short while, and he had to
make the most of that time to search the area. However, after he had finished
walking, no other place had reacted to the magic besides the place where he had
started.
After this, all they would have to do was open the secret door and pass
through. However, Climb narrowed his eyes and looked at the door. Then he
sighed, and reached for the three bells again.
This bell had different patterns on it from the previous one. He shook it like
the one before.
A similar, but different chime filled the air.
This was the Bell of Removing Traps.
It paid to be cautious. As a warrior, Climb could neither find nor disarm traps,
and there was nothing he could do against their effects. Perhaps if he had a magic
caster with him, he might be able to recover from poison or paralysis, but he and
Brain were only two warriors. There were apparently some martial arts which
could delay the effects of poison and the like for a while, but Climb had not
learned them and neither did he have any antidote potions on him. He had to
consider being poisoned to be a fatal condition.
This magic item had a limited number of uses per day, but it would be better
to use them without hesitation than risk falling for a trap.
A heavy clank came from the secret door.
Climb wedged the tip of his sword into the gap between the secret door and
the floor and pried it up.
The wooden flooring went up and fell back in the other direction. There was
a crossbow fitted inside the door, a bolt fitted to the nocked string. Under the
light of the lamp, its head gleamed with a strange sheen that was not metallic in
nature.
Climb shifted position and examined the crossbow.
There was a very sticky liquid on the quarrel’s tip, most likely poison of some
sort.
If he had opened the secret door thoughtlessly, the poisoned projectile would
have been loosed at him.
Climb breathed a quiet sigh of relief and then checked to see if he could take
down the crossbow. However, it was securely fitted and could not be removed
without tools.
Climb decided to abandon that notion and looked beyond the secret door.
A staircase extended downwards, but he could not see down its length thanks
to the angle of his observation. Said staircase was buttressed with stone blocks
and looked very solid.
“Then, what should we do? Should we wait here?”
“I’m not too good with fighting indoors. I’d rather find a wide, open space to
wait for the enemy to show up.”
“When it comes to one-on-one combat, you’d have a better chance waiting for
the enemy at the top of the stairs. However, if you ended up fighting here, I
might not be able to hear you once I went further in. Besides, enemy
reinforcements might show up, so we shouldn’t try to hold this place. In that
case, let’s go in together.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I’ll take point. Hang back a bit before following me.”
“Understood. By the way, the trap-disarming item I used just now can be
activated three times a day, but it can’t be used consecutively; I have to wait half
an hour between uses. So we can’t count on it for the time being.”
“Understood. I’ll be careful as I go. Let me know if you find anything.”
With that, Brain descended the stairs, and Climb followed with him.
For safety’s sake, Brain poked the stairs with his sword as he went down,
advancing step by careful step.
After they had gotten off the stairs, they found that the passage before them
was dressed with tightly-fitted stone, and the walls had also been reinforced with
masonry. A door stood several meters ahead of them, and the surroundings were
reinforced with steel plates.
Brain did not think that an escape tunnel would be fitted with a trap more
lethal than a crossbow, but he had heard of pitfall traps, which could take even
heavily armored warriors out of the fight. Avoiding traps like those were an
absolute top priority.
While it was only a short distance, Brain still took his time and advanced
cautiously. Eventually, they reached the door. Climb was waiting at the stairs,
so as to avoid being caught up if something happened.
Brain stabbed the door with his sword. After a few stabs, he made up his mind,
grabbed the handle — and turned.
Then, he froze.
As Climb began worrying something had happened to him, Brain turned back
with a bitter expression on his face. He said:
“…It’s locked.”
Obviously it was. Anyone would have expected that.
“Anything you can do about it? Otherwise I’ll have to try and hack it down.”
“Ah, yes. One moment, please.”
Climb took out the last of the three bells and shook it at the door.
A faint click came from the door as the Bell of Opening Locks took effect.
Brain tried the handle, and cracked the door open just a little to observe the
conditions within the room.
“It’s empty. I’m going in.”
Climb followed behind Brain as the latter made his entry.
It was a hall of some sort.
The walls were lined with cages and crates that could take human beings
within them. Perhaps this was a storeroom. Still, it seemed too large to be one.
The doors opposite them were not locked. Climb leaned in to listen and he
could hear the sounds of a commotion in the distance.
 Brain looked back and asked Climb:
“How’s this place? It seems big enough to me… Although it means you’ll have
to face a bunch of people at once.”
“If they gang up on me, I’ll open the exit and fight near the stairs.
“Got it. I’ll be checking around the surroundings and I’ll return soon. Don’t
die on me, Climb.”
“Thank you very much. Please be careful, Brain-sama.”
“Mind lending me those items from just now?”
“Of course. Forgive me for not thinking of that earlier.”
Climb handed the three bells to Brain, who put them into his waist pouch.
Then, a stern warrior’s countenance came over him. With a curt, “I’m off,” he
passed through the unlocked door and headed into the depths of the brothel.
This left Climb by himself. He looked around the silent room.
He began by searching his surroundings, making sure nobody was hidden and
that there were no secret tunnels behind the crates. He was only a warrior, but
he felt that there were no hidden doors or the like. Then, he inspected the crates
proper.
He was hoping to find some information on other Eight Fingers installations.
If he managed to find contraband or smuggled goods, so much the better. Of
course, an in-depth investigation would have to wait for after they had taken
control of this place, but before that, he ought to search as best as he could.
There were crates of all sizes, and he approached the largest one. It looked to
be about two meters tall.
He checked the large crate for traps. Naturally, Climb had not spontaneously
developed any detection abilities since just now, so all he could do was clumsily
imitate what proper thieves did for a living.
He placed his ear to the crate and listened.
He did not think the crate would contain anything, but this was a secret
society’s domain, so he might be able to find something. It might also contain
an illegally smuggled lifeform or something.
But as he had expected, there was no sound. Climb reached out and tried to
open the top of the crate.
—It did not open.
He could not even budge it.
He looked around for a crowbar or a poker, but his quick scan of the area
revealed no tools of the sort.
 “…There’s nothing I can do.”
After that, he tried to open a crate that was roughly a cubic meter in size.
That one opened easily enough. He looked inside and saw clothes of many
colors and varieties. There was everything from ponchos to dresses fit for
noblewomen.
“What are these? Is there something hidden under these clothes… doesn’t
look like it… Spare clothes, maybe? Or are they something like work clothes?
Maid uniforms, maybe? What on earth could they be used for?”
Climb had no idea of those clothes’ purpose. He picked a piece up and looked
closely at it, but it looked to be just another ordinary garment. If he wanted to
link it to a crime, then at best it might have been stolen, but it did not constitute
enough evidence to shut down this brothel.
He could not figure it out, so he decided not to bother. After that, Climb
moved on to another crate of similar size. Just then, a loud thud echoed through
the room.
That was impossible. He had searched the entire room and made sure that
nobody was there.
Just then, an idea flashed through his mind.
Could it be that someone had been hiding in the room all along, using the
[Invisibility] spell to conceal themselves?
Shocked by his own conclusion, Climb hurriedly looked to the source of the
sound. It had come from the two-meter crate from earlier, the one that he could
not open. One side of it was pressed up against the wall, and the boards opposite
it had opened up.
This exposed the interior. It did not contain anything except two men. There
was a hole in the back of the crate, opening up to a tunnel where there should
have been a solid wall. It would seem the secret passage was linked to the crate.
A man emerged from the crate just as Climb was stunned with shock.
Cold sweat poured down Climb’s back.
One of them looked just like the man Sebas had described. That man was
called Succulent. He was the biggest obstacle to this takeover operation, and the
biggest prize of them all.
He was a member of Six Arms, whose prowess was comparable to those of
adamantite-ranked adventurers. In other words, he was an unbeatable foe for
Climb.
Succulent eased a blade out of its sheath as he looked at Climb, then narrowed
his eyes and said:
“We knew there were intruders from the [Alarm] spell, and even took the
secret passage to avoid meeting them… I guess we ought to make another one,
huh?”
“What point is there in saying that now?” the man behind him replied in a
shrill voice.
“Huh? Haven’t I seen that boy somewhere before?”
“Don’t blame me for getting mad if you tell me you bedded him before, at a
time like this.”
“You’re so mean, Succulent. As if I would. Ah, I remember. He’s the minion of
that damn slut, the one I hate more than anyone else in the whole world.”
“Oh, so he’s the servant of that princess, then.”
Succulent looked Climb over from head to toe.
The man behind him had a revolting look of lust in his eyes, but Succulent
seemed to be appraising Climb’s strength as a warrior, much like how a serpent
was sizing up its next meal to be swallowed whole.
The man behind him licked his lips and asked:
“I’d like to take that boy with me. Can you do it?”
The hairs on Climb’s back stood on end, and his anus itched.
So he’s that kind of guy!
“That will cost extra.”
Succulent turned to face Climb, ignoring the latter’s internal screaming. His
stance exposed no weaknesses, and he seemed like an even more formidable
obstacle to Climb now.
Succulent suddenly stepped forward.
The oncoming wave of pressure forced Climb to take one step back.
When there was a massive disparity of strength between two opponents, their
battle would not take long. However, Climb had to take on that arduous task.
If I remain on the defensive and focus on blocking attacks, I ought to be able to buy
time until they return.
But before that, he had to do one thing.
Climb took a deep breath.
“SOMEONE HELP ME—!”
He shouted with all his might, as though he were trying to dump out all the
air in his lungs.
There was no way he could win if he fought alone. Capturing these people and
preventing their escape would count as a victory for him. Allowing someone as
strong as this man — in other words, someone who might know a lot of
important information — to escape would be a complete loss.
That being the case, why should he hesitate in crying for aid?
Indeed, Succulent’s expression turned vicious at that moment.
Now that Climb had done this, Succulent was in a race against the clock. In
other words, he might end up pulling out all his trump cards early on.
Climb continued to observe him, not daring to relax.
“Cocco Doll-san. Capturing him might be a bit difficult. I have to finish him
off before his friends arrive.”
“How could that be?! Aren’t you a member of Six Arms? Can’t you beat a
measly little brat like this? Doesn’t that disgrace the name ‘Phantom Devil’?”
“Now you’ve put me in a spot. Alright, I’ll do my best. But please remember
that our win condition is that you escape, no?”
Climb remained on his guard and eyed Succulent, trying to find the reason
why he was called the Phantom Devil. If he had chosen that name himself, it
would probably not be too dissimilar from his actual abilities. That being the
case, he could probably discern said abilities by finding the reason for the name.
Unfortunately, he could not tell anything from his foe’s appearance and his
equipment.
Climb knew the odds were stacked against him, but gave a valorous shout to
steel himself.
“I will hold this door! You will not pass so long as I still draw breath!”
“We’ll see about that. Seeing you beaten to the ground in a disgraceful heap
ought to be proof enough.”
Succulent slowly raised his sword and took a stance.
Huh?
Climb questioned what his eyes had just told him.
That blade seemed to flicker. He was not seeing things. The flickering
vanished quickly enough, but Climb was certain of what he had just witnessed.
Is that a martial art of some kind—?
That was probably the source of the moniker “Phantom Devil.” His foe had
most likely used some kind of ability. He ought to be wary and remain alert.
Succulent stepped into range and swung his sword.
That movement did not look like an attack from an adamantite-ranked
warrior. In fact, it looked sloppier than one of Climb’s own strikes. He raised his
blade in preparation to intercept the strike — then a chill not born of the air ran
through him, and he hurriedly leaped aside.
Pain suddenly blossomed on the other side of his body, and he was very nearly
tossed away.
“Gwaargh!”
Climb stumbled back several steps and collided against the wall. He had no
time to think about what had happened — Succulent was already in front of him.
The blade swung like it had last time. Climb raised his sword to protect his
head and threw himself to the left to flee the blow.
His right upper arm was wracked with agony.
Climb recovered into a standing position after rolling away and thrust behind
himself without thinking.
His blade struck nothing but air.
Now that he knew his foe was not going to pursue him, he looked back,
clutching his right arm. He saw Succulent going for the door which led to the
staircase, still mindful of Climb’s movements.
Climb ignored Succulent as he tried the door and looked at Cocco Doll. He
guessed that Succulent would be hampered by the simple fact that he was here
to protect Cocco Doll.
His guess was right.
Succulent stopped trying the door and put himself between Climb and Cocco
Doll, clicking his tongue as he did. After that, he looked between Climb and the
door, then looked back at Cocco Doll, his face twisted.
“Damn, I fell for it. Sorry, but I have to kill this little punk here.”
“What are you talking about? If we keep this kid alive, we can use him to
blackmail that little bitch, can’t we?”
“He tricked me. It’s all because he was guarding the door… so declaring he
would hold the line was part of his plan. To think this punk would try to screw
with my mind.”
…Excellent! He took the bait. Looks like he doesn’t know what’s going on outside.
Now they won’t try to flee.
Given that Cocco Doll had only one bodyguard, trying to flee while Climb
could still fight was a foolish course of action. This was because they might end
up being flanked if Climb had colleagues on top of the stairs. That was also why
Succulent could not let Cocco Doll flee by himself until he had dealt with Climb.
What rattled Succulent was the fact that Climb had loudly declared that he
would defend the door, but he had then left it swiftly with the intention of
attacking Cocco Doll. Now, Succulent was sure that there were ambushers
waiting outside the door, prepared to launch a pincer attack to capture Cocco
Doll. That certainty limited the tactical options he could consider.
Right now, Succulent was probably thinking that he had to finish Climb off in
order to escape safely. Of course, he was operating without knowledge of the
conditions outside the door. Otherwise, he would have opened it and fled long
ago.
Climb had won this gamble, but he raised his sword in response to a sudden
surge of killing intent.
“!!”
Climb grit his teeth against the pain which came from his side and his right
upper arm. He might have broken several ribs, but fortunately he could still
move. No, he would have been hacked to pieces by now if that pervert had not
declared his desire for Climb’s body. Even a chain shirt did not provide complete
immunity to slashing attacks.
Still, what was that weird move? Did he add another high-speed slash after his initial
attack? Doesn’t seem like it…
Gazef’s face flashed through Climb’s mind.
Gazef Stronoff possessed a unique martial art, the [Sixfold Slash of Light],
which allowed him to continuously attack a foe six times. Perhaps Succulent was
using a weaker version of that, a [Twofold Slash of Light]?
If that were the case, then Succulent was probably using some sinister martial
art, where his first strike was made at normal speed and then followed up by a
lightning-fast second strike.
Something’s off here. If I can figure out that technique’s secret, I should be able to
deal with it… In any case I’m at a disadvantage if I’m constantly on the defensive. Time
to attack.
Climb swallowed and began to run. His eyes shifted from Succulent to Cocco
Doll.
Succulent’s face twisted miserably.
Given that he’s a bodyguard, he probably doesn’t want anyone to make a move on
his charge, even if it’s just a feint. I’d feel the same as him, so I understand him pretty
well.
Climb closed in as he tried to apply his own experience to his foe.
A Phantom Devil… If that’s true… then maybe that move’s a trap in itself… however,
it’s worth making sure.
He closed in and cleaved downwards. As expected, the strike was easily
deflected. He fought against the rebounded impact and swung down again. The
blow was weak because he had not brought the sword up, but that was enough.
Succulent deflected the strike again. Climb nodded in satisfaction and pulled
away.
“It’s an illusion, not a martial art!”
He had felt something strange when his sword had been deflected. It was as
though his strike had bounced away before it had even made contact with the
sword he could see.
“Your right arm’s an illusion! The real arm and sword are invisible!”
In other words, what he thought he had blocked was an illusion. It was the
invisible sword which had struck him.
Succulent’s face went blank, and he calmly replied:
“…Correct. This is just a combination of an invisibility and an illusion spell.
I’ve trained as an illusionist and a fencer. Once you figure it out, it’s not much
of a trick, is it? Laugh it up if you want.”
How could he laugh at that? It seemed simple in principle, and he did wonder
why he had not figured it out earlier. However, an invisible blade was a true
terror in a life-or-death battle, where every hit might be the last. The illusion
that he could see only added to the deception.
“I suppose I’m below you in raw fighting ability because I pursued two paths
at once. However…”
Succulent’s sword hand turned a full circle. But was that his real hand? For all
he knew, he was watching an invisible arm while the real hand had already taken
out a dagger in preparation for a throw.
Climb broke out in a cold sweat as he realized the fearsome power of illusions.
“Among the arcane magic caster vocations, illusionists can only use spells
from the illusion school. Granted, some higher-tier spells can inflict damage so
realistic that it can trick the brain into thinking it’s dead… but I’m not that
skilled.”
“Sounds like a lie. There’s no way to prove you’re telling the truth.”
“That’s right,” Succulent smiled. “Eh, still, you don’t have to believe me
either. Alright, I’ve said my piece… In any case, I can’t enhance myself with
spells, nor can I weaken you with magic. However… can you tell what is real and
what is merely illusion?”
 Saying so, Succulent’s body split apart into multiple images of himself,
stacked one on top of the other.
“[Multiple Vision].”
The one in the center looked like the original, but Climb had no way to be
sure.
Dammit, I gave him time to prepare!
Climb’s aim was to stall for time, but it was too risky to allow a magic caster
to enhance himself with spells.
Climb shouted loudly, using a martial art to enhance his senses, and charged
in at Succulent.
“[Scintillating Scotoma].”
“Uuurgh!”
Part of Climb’s field of vision suddenly banished. However, the spell’s effect
promptly ended. He must have resisted the magic.
Climb stepped in and swung his sword in a grand, sweeping strike. Of course,
only one of the Succulents was within his reach. Moving close enough to get all
the Succulents in range of his swing would necessitate entering extremely close
quarters, where he would not be able to bring his sword to bear.
His sword hit one of the Succulents, which split laterally in two. However, his
foe did not spew blood, nor did the sword encounter any resistance as it passed
straight through Succulent’s body.
“—You guessed wrong.”
A chill rose from his guts and his throat suddenly grew hot. Climb reflexively
raised his left hand to grab the heated portion.
Pain shot through the hand holding his throat and fresh blood spewed forth,
bringing with it a disgusting sensation of wet clothing. Had he not sensed
Succulent’s murderous intent, or if he had not promptly sacrificed a hand to save
himself, his throat would have been cut open. Though glad to still be alive, he
grit his teeth and bit back the pain as he swept his sword once more.
The blade met no resistance again, and the only thing it cut was the air.
It would be bad if things continued like this.
Climb realized this and decided to change martial arts. He decided to fall back
while using [Evade]. He could see the remaining two Succulents raise their
swords over their heads. Climb knew that the swords were illusions, and focused
his attention on his hearing.
The chain shirt he wore and even the beating of his own heart were
meaningless noise. All he had to listen for was the sound made by the man before
him.
— Not it — that’s not it — this one!
The sound did not come from the upraised swords coming down on him. The
sound of something slicing through the air came from the empty space right in
front of him, at his face.
Climb hurriedly turned his head aside — and as he did, a line of heat blazed
across his cheek, followed by the sensation of pain as his flesh split apart. A
scalding hot liquid flowed down his cheek and over his neck.
“Half-right!”
Climb spat the blood pooling in his mouth as he bet everything on his next
attack.
He had used his left hand as a shield, so now he could not feel anything except
pain below his wrist. He did not know if his fingers could move. For all he knew,
the nerves might have been severed. However, Climb wrapped his left hand
around the hilt of his sword, in the hope of squeezing out just a bit more strength
for his next blow.
Pain exploded through Climb’s body, and he grit his teeth. His left hand could
still move, and it could still grasp his blade. It felt like it was swollen and
throbbing, but he was probably imagining things because of the pain.
With both hands on his sword’s hilt, with all his might, he raised his sword to
a high stance, and swung it down savagely.
Blood spurted. There was the sensation of hitting something hard. Fresh
blood spewed like a fountain. It would seem he had struck Succulent’s real body.
It would seem Climb’s blow had been mortal, because he collapsed heavily to
the ground, Climb could not believe that he had brought down a man on par with
an adamantite-ranked adventurer, but it was an undeniable truth that Succulent
was on the ground. Climb fought back the surging elation in his heart and turned
his gaze on Cocco Doll.
He did not look like he was going to flee.
Perhaps he had relaxed mentally, but the pain from his cheek, his left arm, and
the rest of his body made him nauseous.
“Can’t really call this a victory…”
If he could have captured Succulent as well, he would have no complaints.
However, that was too much to ask of Climb. Even so, capturing a man who was
guarded by one of the Six Arms would probably yield a treasure trove of
intelligence.
Climb stepped forward, making to apprehend him. However, something about
Cocco Doll’s face made him suspicious.
The man seemed too relaxed.
Why was he so relaxed?
Just then, a burning sensation pierced his belly.
He lost all strength in his body, like his strings had been cut. His vision
blacked out for a moment, and by the time he came to he was on the ground. He
had no idea what was going on. The pain in his belly was like a red-hot bar of
iron shoved into his flesh, and the pain was starting to spread. He panted heavily,
and a pair of feet loomed into view of his eyes, which could only see the ground.
“Sorry about that, but I can’t let you win.”
He struggled to look up, but all he saw was an unscathed Succulent.
“That was [Fox Sleep], by the way. It’s an illusion used after taking a wound.
It hurt like hell, mind you. You must have thought you’d finished me off, didn’t
you?”
He moved his finger, tracing a line down his chest. That must have been the
path Climb’s sword traveled when it had hit him.
“Huhhh. Huhhhh. Huhhh. Huhhhhh…”
Climb panted and gasped. He could feel the blood pouring out of his abdomen,
drenching his clothes and his chain shirt.
—I’m going to die.
Climb scrabbled for the pieces of his consciousness which had been rent
asunder by the pain.
—If I pass out, I’ll die.
However, his death was certain, even if he did remain conscious. His opponent
would probably finish him off soon.
He had fought a man on par with an adamantite-ranked adventurer. It had
been a heroic battle. Things being as they were, he had no choice but to give up.
The difference in their abilities was far too great. That was simply how things
were.
However— he could not give up.
He would not give up!
Climb clenched his teeth like he was trying to shatter them in his mouth.
He would not permit himself to die. He would not allow himself to lose his
life without an order from Renner.
 “Guh, geh! Gyuhh, gegehh…”
His growl was somewhere between a moan and a gnashing of his teeth, in
order to spur on his flagging spirit, which was on the verge of surrendering to
the pain.
He could not die. Not yet.
Climb struggled to remember Renner. He still had to return to her side
today—
“We’re running short on time, so I’ll put you out of your misery with this.
Farewell.”
Succulent pointed his sword at the groaning youth.
He had been fatally wounded. His death was only a matter of time. Still,
Succulent had the feeling that it would be best to finish him off right now.
“…Say, can we take him with us?”
“Give me a break, Cocco Doll-san. He might have friends behind that door,
you know? Besides, even if we take him, he won’t last until we reach safety. Just
forget about him.”
“Then, at least bring his head back. I want to put it in a bouquet and mail it to
that fucking bitch.”
“Fine, fine, fine. If it’s just the head I can still… ah, uwahhh!”
Succulent leapt back.
The young man swung his sword.
For someone on the verge of death, the strike had been steady and true.
Succulent had originally looked down on his dying prey with arrogant eyes.
Those eyes now opened wide.
The boy had used his sword to prop himself up and gotten back on his feet.
Impossible.
Succulent had taken over a hundred lives thus far, and he was certain that he
had dealt the kid a mortal blow. There was no way he could still be standing after
that.
However, the sight before him flew in the face of Succulent’s accumulated
experience.
“Why, why can you get up?!”
It was a bone-chilling sight. It was as though Climb were one of the undead.
A long, thin trail of drool oozed from the corner of the boy’s mouth, and his
ashen white face seemed devoid of all humanity.
“I… die… Renner-sama’s… kindness…”
 His sudden intake of air froze in Succulent’s lungs as Climb’s burning gaze
turned on him. He was afraid. He was frightened of how this young man had
made the impossible possible.
The young man staggered, and Succulent came to his senses. Shame suddenly
welled up within him.
How could he — as a member of Six Arms — be afraid of someone weaker
than him? How could he possibly accept that?
“Don’t you know how to die?! Go to hell!”
Succulent advanced toward his opponent. He was certain that a single stab
would finish the job.

However, he had greatly underestimated his adversary.

It was true that in terms of overall combat ability, Succulent was
overwhelmingly superior to Climb. However, Succulent had chosen to walk the
path of the illusionist and the fencer at the same time, while Climb had been a
warrior all his life. Thus, in terms of martial ability, not only was there no
disparity in strength, but one could even say that Climb was Succulent’s
superior. The only reason why Climb could not match Succulent was due to
magic. Without the aid of spells to enhance him, Succulent was the inferior
combatant.

There was a thrumming sound as the blade cleaved down from above, and
then there was a high-pitched clash of metal.
The only reason Succulent could block the boy’s strike was because his
movements were slowed from being on the verge of death.
A rill of cold sweat ran down Succulent’s face.
His foe was dying. Succulent had been distracted by that fact, and his
darkened eyes went wide.
Succulent was a fencer, and he had trained for countless hours to evade his
enemy’s blows. The fact that he had to actually use his blade to block Climb’s hit
was quite extraordinary.
 —That was not the attack of a dying man.
Those words raced through Succulent’s increasingly frantic mind.
No, it was not just that. The speed of Climb’s blade had been even faster than
when he was unhurt.
“How the hell did you do that, you bastard!”
This was someone who became stronger through battle. It was not impossible,
but Succulent had never witnessed anyone like that before.
He even began to feel that the young man had thrown off some kind of
limitation.
“What the hell did you do? Was it a magic item? A martial art?!”
From his tone, one would be unable to tell who had come out victorious in
their battle just now.

What exactly had happened to Climb? The answer was simple.

Sebas’ training had scrambled the part of his brain that protected his body.
His sheer will to live overlapped with the vision of death which Sebas’ training
had shown him. Thus, he had managed to remove the limits placed on his
physical body by his brain, unlocking the power of the adrenaline surge.
While that training had only allowed Climb to make a single attack, without
that training, he would have died without the chance to do anything at all.

After blocking that mighty blow, Succulent was thrown far back.
The impact of his rough landing pierced through his back and churned his
guts. While his orichalcum chain shirt absorbed some of the impact, it knocked
the air from his lungs and left him unable to breathe for a moment.
What had happened? Succulent — who had taken the blow — could not
explain it, but Cocco Doll had been watching from the side and had seen
everything.
Succulent had been kicked.
The boy had promptly kicked Succulent right after his downward chop had
been blocked.
 Succulent had no idea what was going on, but he hurriedly rose to his feet. For
fencers — to whom mobility was their greatest asset — being prone on the
ground was a death sentence.
“Dammit! What kind of a soldier are you?! You even kicked me! Soldiers
should stick to what they know and not try new tricks!”
Succulent cursed angrily as he rolled back into an upright position.
Unlike the regimented combat curriculum of ordinary soldiers, Climb’s down
and dirty fighting style made Succulent feel like he was facing an adventurer.
Thus, he could not be underestimated.
Succulent started to worry.
At first, he had thought that the fight was his to lose. Killing a punk like this
should have been a piece of cake. However, he now felt that composure slipping
away from him.
However, as Succulent stood up, he saw the young man who had become a
threat slump to the ground, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
The youth’s face looked terrible, as though the series of blows had snuffed out
the flame of his life. No — that was exactly what had happened. This must have
been a last burst of fire, like how candles would flare up before going out. Yes,
that must have been the power he had used.
Right now, that boy would die from the merest tap.
As he saw Climb’s condition, Succulent began to feel relieved, but that was
soon replaced by confusion and anger.
He was furious at the fact that someone like him, a member of Six Arms, had
been so hard-pressed by a miserable little mook like Climb. He was angry at the
fact that he had started to panic. Still, the victor was clear. All he had to do was
kill the kid and run.
However—
“—Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

It would seem he had made it in time, somehow.

Climb was face down on the ground, his face covered in sweat, his skin so pale
that it was practically white. Still, he was breathing. That said, the wound on his
belly was fatal, and he would die within a few minutes if it was not immediately
treated.
Brain felt that he could not relax yet as he entered the room.
There were two men inside. One of them did not look like a fighter.
“Don’t pay any attention to that suspicious-looking guy, just kill him!”
“If I do that, he’ll charge up and kill me. This guy isn’t like the punk from just
now. I need to focus and concentrate to beat him. If I’m distracted or get
careless, it’ll be the end of me.”
The person who answered was Succulent. Brain knew exactly who the man
was. He looked just like the description that had been supplied to him. Plus, the
man was holding a bloodstained blade and he had a body double out. Brain had
suspected him from the beginning, and his suspicions had just been confirmed.
Without another word, Brain ran up, drew and slashed. There was no
hesitation in his movements. Succulent had leapt away even before the blow had
landed, and the Katana only struck empty air. However, Brain had only done so
to get his opponent away from Climb. He stood over the fallen Climb, planting
his feet in a location where he could cover the lad.
“Climb, are you alright? Do you have any healing items on you?”
His words were quick and tense. If Climb did not have anything like that, he
would have to find some other way to save him.
“Hahhhh. Hahhh. Hahh. Hah. Ye… yes… I do…”
He glanced over and saw that Climb’s hands had released his sword and begun
to move.
“Really now.”
A great weight lifted off Brain’s shoulders. After answering Climb, he glared
fiercely at Succulent.
“I’ll take you on next. Allow me to avenge that kid.”
“…You’re pretty cocky. But that’s only to be expected. To think you’d be
carrying such a valuable weapon from the South… I don’t think I’ve heard of
anyone like you before… mind telling me your name?”
He did not intend to answer.
Climb was a comrade — a brother-in-arms. How could anyone reply calmly
when one’s brother was on the brink of death?
Just then, a doubt blossomed in Brain’s heart.
Was I like that in the past?
His old self had lived for nothing other than honing his swordplay. When had
he cared about anything else?
 Then, he chuckled to himself.
…Oh. I get it now.
His ambition, his dream, his goal, his life, his way of living — all of them had
been shattered beyond recovery by the monster called Shalltear Bloodfallen, and
the cracks in his heart which had appeared had then been filled by the person
called Climb. When faced with the vicious bloodlust from the mysterious Sebas,
Brain had been driven to his knees, but Climb — though weaker than him — had
endured through it. It was then, when Brain was filled with admiration, that
Climb had worked his way into Brain’s heart. That was because Brain had seen a
spark of manly radiance within Climb that he himself had lacked.
He stood before Climb, locking eyes with Succulent. Did Climb now see in
Brain’s back the same determination that Brain had seen in Climb’s?
His old self would have laughed at this. His old self would have laughed at how
weak he had become.
In the past, he had believed that these things were nothing more than
weaknesses to a warrior. He had believed that all a warrior needed was to be as
sharp as a sword.
However — he understood now.
“So that was how you viewed life… I see, Gazef… It seems that even now, I’m
still no match for you.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m asking you again, could you tell me your name?”
“Forgive me. While I feel there’s no point in telling you, well… I am Brain
Unglaus.”
Succulent’s eyes widened into saucers.
“What? You mean that…!”
“No way! The man himself? Are you kidding me?!”
“No, I don’t think it’s a mistake, Cocco Doll-san. Valuable weapons indicate a
warrior’s level. A Katana like that certainly suits someone like him.”
A wry grin crossed Brain’s face.
“More than half the people I’ve met recognized me… well, my old self would
have been proud. Right now, it’s a little more complicated.”
Brain had no idea why Succulent was smiling at him so companionably.
However, his doubts were soon answered.
“I say, Unglaus! There’s no point in us fighting, is there? Someone strong like
you is worthy of recruiting. Why not become one of us? You could easily become
a member of Six Arms with strength like yours. It’s plainly obvious how skilled
you are. You’re just like me, aren’t you? You want to become strong. I can tell by
looking in your eyes.”
“…You do have it at that.”
“Right? Then let me tell you. Eight Fingers is a pretty good place. It’s great for
those who are strong. They’ll give you all the magic items you want, as powerful
as you like. Look at this orichalcum chain shirt! This mythril sword! These rings!
These clothes! These boots! They’re all magic items! Come, Brain Unglaus. Join
us. Join the Six Arms.”
“…Worthless. Is that all there is to your organization?”
Brain’s unimaginably cold and contemptuous attitude froze the smile on
Succulent’s face.
“Say what?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said, if that’s all there is to you, you won’t amount to
anything even if you band together.”
“You! …Hmph. Well, if you say that, then your strength’s nothing special
either!”
“Indeed. Someone like me is nothing special. I learned that very well after
witnessing a true monster.”
Brain pitied Succulent and his haughty attitude. He truly was like a frog in a
well. Thus, Brain decided to give him a sincere warning.
“It’s the same with your strength. Perhaps we’re the same way. That’s why I
want to warn you — we’re nothing special.”
Brain turned back and glanced over his shoulder at Climb, who had drunk his
healing potion.
“Also, I’ve learned one more thing. Strength gained for someone is greater
than what a person can train up by themselves.
Brain smiled. It was a kind, carefree smile.
“Perhaps it’s only a little, but in the end, I do understand.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about… What a shame, Unglaus. What a
shame that I have to kill a genius swordsman who once stood on par with the
mighty Gazef Stronoff.”
“Can you do it, with that sword which you only swing for yourself?”
“Of course I can kill you. That’s easy enough. And after I kill you, I’ll kill that
brat on the ground. No more holding back, and no more games. I’m going all-
out.”
As Brain watched Succulent begin an incantation, he sensed someone moving
behind him and issued a warning.
“Climb-kun, don’t move. You’re not fully recovered yet, are you?”
Climb froze.
Brain smiled. He was as surprised by this as he was by what he had done just
now. Then, he added:
“Leave the rest to me.”
“—Thank you very much.”
Brain smiled by way of reply and sheathed his sword. Then, he lowered his
stance and turned the sword and sheath over at his waist.
“Please be careful. Succulent uses illusions. What you see may not be real.”
“I see… yes, quite a tricky opponent. Still, it’ll be fine.”
Brain stayed where he was, staring silently at Succulent. He had created five
illusory duplicates out of nowhere, and he gleamed with what seemed to be a
magical radiance. In addition, he seemed to have donned some kind of shadowy
cloak. Brain had no idea what kind of magic Succulent had used.
“Thank you for giving me time to prepare. Magic casters are more powerful
than warriors when they can prepare themselves. You lose, Unglaus!”
“Hm, no need to thank me. After talking to him… well, I’m pretty sure I can’t
lose.”
“…Big words for a hired blade! So you’re staying there to protect that punk.
How sweet of you.”
Brain heard the sound of Climb shifting from down where he lay at Brain’s
feet.
Climb must have been feeling guilty about giving the enemy time to prepare
himself. Therefore, Brain made a declaration, loud enough that Climb could
hear.
“—One strike.”
“What?”
“I said, I’m going to take you down in one strike, Succulent.”
“Try it if you can!”
Succulent charged him, wreathed by his afterimages.
As his opponent entered his attack range, Brain swiveled, completely ignoring
how he was exposing his defenseless back to the oncoming Succulent. And then
— with Climb in between — Brain drew with incredible speed and cut at the
empty air.
 ●

There was a mighty crash as the walls shook.

The still-prone Climb and Cocco Doll turned to look at the source of the
sound.
Succulent lay there. He had rolled to the ground and was motionless. His
sword had fallen to the ground.
Brain’s mighty draw-cut had sent Succulent flying, smashing him into the wall
with tremendous force, after which he had collapsed to the ground. If Brain had
not hit him with the back of his sword, Succulent would have been lying in two
pieces instead of one. Even the orichalcum chain shirt he wore made no
difference, so powerful was that blow.
“…My [Field] can pick up anything — even the invisible. The illusion in front
was meant to get my attention so he could attack from behind… A cunning move,
but unfortunately, he used it against me. Plus, attacking Climb-kun was a poor
choice for you. Let me guess, you wanted to kill him and then mock me for not
being able to protect him. However, you were so focused on attacking Climb-
kun who was lying on the ground that you didn’t keep an eye on me. Did you
forget who you were fighting?”
Brain sheathed his sword, and smiled to Climb.
“Told you, didn’t I? One strike.”
“Well done!” Climb said.
But someone else had said “well done” besides Climb, and both voices
blended together. That person was Sebas, and that was nothing special. Rather,
it was where the voice had come from which was surprising.
Both of them looked to where Cocco Doll had been standing.
In his place was Sebas, and beside him was the limp form of Cocco Doll.
“When did you arrive?”
Sebas responded calmly to Brain’s question:
“Just now. I believe you were both focused on Succulent and did not notice
me.”
“Is, is that so.”
No way, Brain though as he answered.
I had [Field] active, didn’t I? It might have a narrow radius, but I should have
sensed him if he had come running up to us. But I didn’t sense him at all… Until now,
only that monster Shalltear Bloodfallen could do that. Well, I had my suspicions when
he emitted his murderous intent back then, but now I’m sure of it — he’s the match of
that monster. Where does he come from?
“In any case, the people locked up here have been rescued. Also, Climb-kun.
I’m sorry, but some people put up fierce resistance, so I had to kill them. Please
forgive me… but before that, I ought to heal your wounds.”
Sebas came before Climb and laid his hands on Climb’s belly. It was a brief
contact — he removed his hand right after touching him. However, the results
were plainly obvious. Climb’s face had still been pale after drinking the potion,
but now he was back to a healthy state.
“My wounds are healed… Are you a priest?”
“No, I did not use the power of the gods. Instead, I infused my Ki into you for
healing.”
“A monk, then! No wonder,” Brain exclaimed. Now he understood why Sebas
was neither armed nor armored. Sebas merely smiled as an affirmative.
“Then, what do you two plan to do next?”
“Well, I intend to hurry to the nearest guard post, explain the situation, and
come back with some men. I hope you two gentlemen can hold the fort here
until then. For all we know, Eight Fingers might send reinforcements.
“…Well, I’m already on this boat, might as well enjoy the ride.”
“It is fine with me as well. However, could I trouble you not to mention me? I
came to this country to do business, and to be honest, I do not wish to continue
interfering in the underworld of a foreign nation.”
“I’m fine. If anyone asks, just say Stronoff will vouch for me.”
“I understand. I will do as the two of you say. Then, please allow me to make
use of you two gentlemen for now.”
 3

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 19:05

Climb finally returned to the Royal Palace as darkness began to spread over
the Royal Capital.
His wounds were completely healed, but he was dog-tired. The fighting had
taken quite some time, and so had coordinating matters after the fact. In the
end, things had worked out not because Climb had Renner’s backing, but
because the soldiers were afraid of Eight Fingers and did not dare handle things
too eagerly. The biggest problem had been the question of taking responsibility.
The person in charge might as well become a target of Eight Fingers — to be
made into an example. This was not a distant probability, but a distinct
possibility. Therefore, Climb had simply written the events down and asked the
soldiers to send it to Renner. After receiving her approval, he had signed his
name and that of his mistress Renner as the people responsible.
Of course, there were drawbacks to doing so but there were at least two merits
to that approach.
The first was that Renner’s reputation would be boosted.
She had acted against an organization eating away at the heart of the
Kingdom, and they were a filthy band of slave trading scoundrels to boot. In
addition, her subordinate had led the charge against that crime syndicate. That
would surely boost the public opinion of Renner, who otherwise remained
within the Palace.
The second was that they could protect Sebas, and the woman he had rescued
from abuse in that brothel.
 Now that Climb and Renner had taken credit for that, it would keep Sebas and
that woman from drawing attention, and it would also avoid them becoming
priority targets for Eight Fingers.
I didn’t do anything during the raid… it’s the least I can do…
As for Brain, he said he would speak to Gazef on his own account, and he
encouraged Climb not to worry.
Climb thought about those things as he knocked on Renner’s door.
Renner had told him there was no need to knock and that he should enter
directly. However, the hour was late, and it was still impolite to charge into her
room without giving notice. Ever since he had accidentally seen Renner in a
sheer silk nightie, he made sure to knock every time he visited.
His mistress had agreed on that.
While Climb waited for an answer, he sniffed himself.
He had bathed and scrubbed himself, but he was not certain that the stink of
blood was gone because his nose was used to it. Frankly speaking, he should not
have entered Renner’s bedchambers in this attire, but it was imperative that he
reported the day’s events to Renner in his own words.
The most important thing was the people who had been locked up in that
place. They were currently in the custody of the guard post, but they would need
to be taken somewhere safe within a few days. Some of them were hurt, so he
had to arrange for priests and other healers to go and help them.
Renner-sama is kind. She will surely lend a hand to the people if they are in need.
Climb felt his heart grow heavy as he thought about all the things he would be
troubling his mistress with. He could not help but think about how much better
it would be if he were stronger. It was all thanks to her that he could lead a life
like this and serve such a great mistress, yet he could not do more for her.
…Strange. There didn’t seem to be an answer… There wasn’t one, right?
He had not heard her granting him permission to enter.
Nobody was standing watch in front of the door, so Renner ought not to be
asleep yet. Could she have accidentally fallen asleep without informing the night
watchman?
Climb knocked again.
This time, Climb heard a quiet voice granting him entry from inside the room.
That put his heart at ease and he entered. He had already decided on the first
thing he would do.
“Forgive my late return.”
 He bowed his head low, in apology.
“I was so worried!”
Climb could hear distinct anger in Renner’s voice, which surprised him.
Climb’s mistress very rarely got angry. Even when insulted, she had never
displayed her anger in front of Climb. That was why he was acutely aware that
Renner had been truly worried about him.
He struggled against the warm tears that threatened to leak from the corner
of his eyes, and lowered his head in sincere apology.
“I was really worried about you! When I thought about how Eight Fingers
might have struck first and done something to you, I… then, what exactly
happened? I received a brief report, but can you explain in detail?”
Climb was going to deliver his report from a standing position, but Renner
insisted that he sit down.
Thus, Climb took a seat. There was a teacup in front of him, and Renner
poured him a piping hot cup of tea from her Warm Bottle.
After thanking her, he sipped at the tea.
Climb then narrated the entire situation to Renner, because some people
needed her help.
“What did you think of those people when you saw them?”
Climb was briefly baffled by the first question Renner had asked after hearing
the proceedings. However, she had asked, so he had to answer.
“I felt sorry for them. If I were stronger, I could have saved these people from
their suffering.”
“Really now… You must have felt sorry for them, Climb.”
“I did.”
“Is that so. You’re really nice, Climb.”
“Renner-sama, if you need me to protect them, I can go at any time. I have
already resolved myself.”
“…I’ll call on you when the time comes. Let’s leave that aside for now; I have
something to tell you. Tomorrow, or the day after at latest, we intend to launch
attacks on the Eight Fingers bases indicated on the parchment Lakyus gave us.
You can imagine how their defenses will become stronger as time goes on,
thanks to the attack on the brothel.”
“My sincerest apologies! It was my fault for acting on my own!”
“No, please pay it no heed. Think of it as us deciding on a course of action.
Besides, I do like how you performed this time round, Climb. You captured
Succulent, a member of Six Arms, and brought in Cocco Doll, the head of the
Slavery Division. That ought to shake our opponents to the core. Therefore, I
want to capitalize on this victory.”
Renner lightly punched the air in a cute way.
“We’ll hit them again before they can get the word out of the Royal Capital!”
“Understood! I will go rest now, and gather my strength for tomorrow’s
operations!”
“Please do. I think tomorrow will be quite an exciting day. Please keep that in
mind.”

Climb left the room. He felt the scent of blood had faded away somewhat.
“Thank you very much, Climb. Next…”
After finishing the now-cool tea, Renner stood up. She walked over to a
handbell. If she shook it, the bell in the adjacent room would shake as well. As
she thought of the face of the maid waiting in the next room, she smiled coldly.
How fortunate that she was on duty today.
“My my, what kind of expression should I put on now?”
Renner went up before the mirror and cupped her face with both hands. Then
she rubbed up and down. She was only human, and doing so would not change
the shape of her face. It was merely a form of self-affirmation.
Renner let go, and smiled.
“No, this is the smile a princess wears for meeting others…”
Renner smiled again. She went through a variety of them before settling on a
pure, innocent smile.
“This is best.”
After her preparations were complete, Renner shook the bell. Soon, a maid
knocked on the door and entered.
“Could you do something for me? Could you help me boil some hot water?”
“At once, Renner-sama.”
The maid bowed, and Renner smiled to her.
“What’s the matter? You seem quite happy today. Did something good
happen?”
Now that her prey had taken the bait, Renner’s smile grew ever more joyful.
 “Hey, did you know? Climb-kun did really good today! It was amazing!”
She spoke like a child. It was the attitude which fit a foolish princess leaking
important information all over the place.
“Well, isn’t that lovely.”
The maid hated Climb, and she tried her best to hide her displeasure.
However, she could not keep her emotions out of her words.
—Die.
—You should die.
—Everyone who dares look down on my Climb should die.
Renner pretended she had not heard the maid’s response, because Renner was
an innocent little princess. She did not sense others’ ill intentions and took their
rudeness in stride. She was a naive, innocent — and foolish princess.
“Yup! He was soooo amazing! Climb beat up a whole bunch of bad guys! And
then he rescued a lot of people the bad guys locked up! He sent them to… Yeah,
I think he sent them to a guard post. Now we can punish the nobles who helped
the bad guys do bad things!”
“Really now? Marvelous, that’s Renner-sama’s Climb-san for you. Then, could
I trouble you to tell me of his heroic deeds?”
The maid believed the princess was clueless and would not suspect anything.
Thus, Renner began ensnaring that stupid woman in her scheme.
Everything sat within the palm of her hand. All this was in order to gain what
she wanted.

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 22:10

A strange-looking group blended into the darkness.
They were all outfitted differently, without any sense of regimentation or
unity. The closest thing to them would probably be adventurers.
At their head was a stout, muscular man. Behind him was an effete-looking
pretty boy and a woman in gauzy silks. Behind him was a robed person, and
someone in a suit of full plate armor brought up the rear.
The group were looking at an opened door. The room beyond was pitch-dark,
and they sensed that any previous occupants were long gone. A look around did
not turn up anyone else.
 This was quite a strange situation. Indeed, the brothel should have been
stripped bare and taken to a guard post. That said, someone ought to have been
posted to stand watch, even if the place was empty. In fact, if one looked along
the otherwise empty streets, one would be able to see signal fires where the
night watch would have been stationed.
Yet, there was nobody here. That was because this group had used their
influence to temporarily get rid of the sentries.
The stone-faced man at their head — Zero — glared fiercely at the gutted
brothel and growled:
“This is too big to be a mere joke. I need to apologize to Cocco Doll. I lent him
Succulent of Six Arms, but to think this place was taken down so easily, and on
the day I sent him over… What a joke.”
Sneering laughter came from behind him. Zero turned and fixed the source of
that laughter with a razor-sharp gaze.
The woman in silks knew Zero’s personality, and she hurriedly said:
“Ah, well… So boss, what should we do now? Should we kill Succulent, since
he got captured? If we’re going with that, he ought to be at the guard post. We’re
all the direct-attack sort, and if it doesn’t work out we’ll have to borrow assassins
from the other departments… what about it?”
“There’s no need to go to such lengths. Even a man like him has his uses. I’ll
just ask the Count to release him… that’ll cost a pretty penny, though. Go make
a list of what the Count likes.”
“How about Cocco Doll?” the delicate pretty boy asked.
“He has his own connections. If he has any requests, we’ll handle them
through our connections. Count it as a form of apology. How about the guest
list? I heard the guards took it, no?”
“Information on that front has not come in yet. Or rather, I hear they have
not learned any concrete details”
The voice from under the robe was grim. It was as though someone were
speaking out of a grave. The sepulchral voice sent a chill down its listener’s
spines.
“I’d like to get my hands on it. We can use it for all sorts of blackmail.”
“Don’t be foolish. If we obtain it, the other divisions will be even more
suspicious of us. People are already suspecting that we were behind all of this. If
we find the guest list somewhere, give it to Cocco Doll several days later and
apologize. Besides, the list ought to be in an unbreakable code, so you won’t be
able to use it anyway.”
The pretty boy shrugged in response to Zero’s spiel.
“In any case, we’ll investigate this matter later on. My guess is if it exists, it’ll
be in the hidden vault… still, whoever broke this door down really did a number
on it. How did they make this hole? I doubt they used a weapon… was it magic?”
“It was a fist.”
All eyes went to Zero’s body. Zero repeated himself — that these traces were
made by a fist.
“Fists… Well, that’s quite something.”
“—Don’t be foolish. This much is nothing.”
Zero took a breath and interrupted the woman’s awed gasp, then he chopped
at the door with a knife hand. His hand sank into the door like he was tearing
through paper. Zero withdrew his hand, leaving a dent which matched the one
Sebas had left.
The pretty boy spoke up, somewhat lamely:
“Well, you’re not a good comparison, boss… still, our enemy can break down
a steel-reinforced door. While Succulent was the weakest of us, that still means
he took down a member of Six Arms. Should we take him as a potential enemy,
then?”
“That said, if Succulent lost, that does not indicate the foe is very strong, no?”
There was an undercurrent of mockery in the robed person’s voice.
“He is far weaker than us once you see through his illusions. He’s good against
people he outmatches, but he’ll go down against any decent opposition. Did you
not know that?”
He was answered by several chuckles. This was both a sign of approval, and a
sign of mockery for those weaker than themselves.
“We’ve said everything that needs to be said. I’ll ask again — what should we
do? Shall we pull back? I don’t think clashing with our opponent will be worth
the potential losses?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Zero’s words were laced with an anger which he could not completely
suppress.”
“Our reputation will be damaged if we don’t make an example of the person
who attacked this place. Screw the losses. Six Arms will move out together and
eliminate the attacker. ‘Undying King’ Davernoch.”
The robed man extended a hand. Said hand did not belong on a living creature,
and it clutched an orb that radiated a bizarre aura in response to its owner’s
emotions.
“‘Void Cutter’ Peshurian.”
The hitherto silent man in full plate armor pounded his chest with a
resounding clash of metal.
“‘Dancing Scimitars’ Edström.”
The silk-clad woman dipped her head elegantly, as the bangles on her wrists
clattered.
“‘Thousand Kills’ Malmvist.”
The pretty boy clicked his heels together with a resounding report.
“And then myself, ‘Battle Demon’ Zero!”
The people around him nodded to show their agreement and understanding.
“First, we’ll bail out Succulent and question him. After that… find a good
torturer. We’re going to show that attacker the true meaning of hell. We’ll make
him regret his foolishness!”

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 17:42

It was sunset by the time everything was over and Sebas returned home.
Climb-kun’s protecting all the captured people. Succulent, the owner, and everyone
else was arrested. That ought to keep them quiet for a while. Hopefully that can buy
some time.
Then, what should he do about Tsuare? Sebas felt that the best option would
be to bring her somewhere safe, but Sebas knew there was only one truly safe
place in all the world.
As Sebas agonized over the matter, his feet brought him back home.
Just as he was about to open the door, his hand froze. Someone was behind
the door. He sensed that it was Solution, but Sebas had no idea why she was
standing behind it.
Was there an emergency of some sort?
Sebas had a bad feeling about this, but he still opened the door. What he saw
next defied his expectations and left him frozen in place.
“Welcome back, Sebas-sama.”
Solution was standing there in her maid’s uniform.
 A chill ran down Sebas’ spine.
Solution — who played the role of a merchant heiress — was wearing her maid
uniform in the presence of Tsuare, a human who knew nothing about the truth.
Was it because she did not need to act any longer, or was there some reason
which required her to wear her uniform?
If it was the former, that would mean something had happened to Tsuare. If
it was the latter—
“—Sebas-sama. Ainz-sama is waiting for you inside the house.”
Solution’s calm, even voice made Sebas’ heart lurch in his chest.
Sebas, who could remain calm in the face of a mighty foe or a being on the
level of the Floor Guardians, was actually anxious and tense when he heard his
own master had come to visit.
“Why, why is he…” Sebas stammered. Solution merely watched him in silence.
“Sebas-sama. Ainz-sama is waiting for you.”
There was nothing else to be said. All Sebas could do was follow Solution into
the house.
His steps were heavy, like a condemned criminal walking to the chopping
block.
OVERLORD
Character Profiles
 Afterword

This is the author, Kugane Maruyama. Overlord has reached its 5th volume in
the blink of an eye. Please allow me to thank everyone who has supported this
series. Thank you very much!
Speaking of which, since Volumes 5 and 6 are going to be linked, I was
wondering, “do I need an afterword?” I discussed it with Editor-san and in the
end Editor-san said that some readers would look forward to it, so I should
probably write one… But does anyone really look forward to the afterword? Are
afterwords really that interesting…? Hm, so does Editor-san mean that I should
force myself to write something interesting?
Something interesting… Well, in order to handle the myriad issues that have
cropped up for Volumes 5 and 6, I spent all my days off between August to the
end of November at home in order to rush out the book… that’s all I have.
Also, since Volume 6 includes a Drama CD like Volume 4, time is even tighter
than normal. It’s a really breakneck pace…
But that’s a part-time writer for you!
Hm. It’s… not interesting at all. I’m ruining everyone’s hopes and dreams, I
know.
Then, let’s change the topic.
The Web Novel version of Overlord is also updating, but Volume 6 is going to
be 90% new content.
Initially, I focused on adding new elements when rewriting the Web Novel
chapters for release. You will see this in the next volume.
The manuscript is already complete, so if nothing crops up, it ought to come
out for sale in January 2014. I hope we can meet again in that volume’s afterword.
Now then, the thanks.
So-bin-sama, who does illustrations for the books, Chord Design Studio,
which does the book design, Ōsako-sama, who does proofreading, F-da-sama,
the Editor, as well as everyone who helped to make Overlord — thank you,
everyone. Also, thank you for all your help, Honey.
Finally, thank you to all you readers for buying this book! You have my
sincerest gratitude!

Kugane Maruyama
December 2013
Information

Source Text: Skythewood Translations

Additional Editing: cortz & firedragon1x
Version: 2.3 (061021)