The Undead King Page 20

  “Are those flame archangels? They sure look like them, but…why would the same monster be here? Is it because the summon magic is the same? If that’s the case…”

  Gazef looked to the muttering Ainz and said, with a glimmer of hope, “Sir Gown, if it’s all right with you, we’d like to hire you.”

  There was no reply. Gazef just felt an intense stare coming from behind the mask.

  “I can promise you any amount in compensation.”

  “I think I’ll refuse.”

  “If we could even just borrow your summoned knight…”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And if I invoked royal law and forcefully drafted you?”

  “That would be a most foolish choice…is…not the kind of violent thing I’d like to say, but if you attempt to use some power against me, including the authority of the kingdom, I’d put up a little bit of resistance.”

  They glared at each other and the first one to look away was Gazef.

  “Huh. We’d be annihilated before we even got into it with the theocracy.”

  “Ho-ho, ‘annihilated,’ very funny. But I’m glad you understand.”

  Gazef watched, eyes squinted, as Ainz bowed. He hadn’t been joking. His intuition was screaming at him how dangerous it would be to make an enemy of this caster. Especially when his life was in danger, he tended to go with his intuition over unproductive pondering.

  Who is this guy? Gazef thought, gazing at Ainz’s mask. What in the world does his face look like under that mask? Is it one I’d be familiar with, or…?

  “Is something wrong? Is my mask crooked?”

  “Ohhh no, I just was thinking what a peculiar mask it is. If you can control that monster with it, it must be an unusually powerful magic item.”

  “Indeed. It’s quite rare and valuable. It’s impossible to get one anymore.”

  If someone possessed valuable magic items, then logically their magic would be powerful. Thinking in that way, Ainz must have been a pretty powerful caster. Gazef suddenly felt hopeless, being unable to win his support. But he still wished that as an adventurer, Ainz would take on this one request…

  “Well, it’s pointless to stand around here all day. Take care, Sir Gown. I appreciate you saving the village.”

  Gazef removed his gauntlets and shook Ainz’s hand. To be polite, it would be correct for Ainz to remove his gauntlets as well, but he left them on and it didn’t faze Gazef. He shook Ainz’s hand with both of his bare hands and laid his heart bare to match. “I really, really appreciate it. You did an amazing deed, protecting the innocent from that storm of atrocities. …And I have to say: I want you to protect them again. I don’t have anything I can give you right now, but I do hope you’ll consider my request.”

  “That’s—”

  “If you ever come to the royal capital, I promise, on my honor as Gazef Stronoff, that I’ll give you whatever you desire.”

  Gazef took his hands away and was about to drop to one knee, but Ainz stopped him. “You don’t have to do that… I understand. I’ll protect this village without fail…on my honor as Ainz Ooal Gown.”

  Hearing this vow, Gazef’s heart lightened. “Thank you, Sir Gown! Then, we have nothing to fear. I can go forth boldly into battle.”

  “Before you do that, please take this.”

  Ainz must have thought of something as Gazef smiled—he handed him a small object. It was a weird little carving that didn’t seem terribly special to Gazef, but—“A memento—I gratefully accept. Well, Sir Gown, it’s a shame we must part, but I’m going to go.”

  “You don’t want to wait for the cover of night?”

  “There’s a spell called Night Vision, so even if darkness is a disadvantage for us, it likely won’t be for them. Plus, they have to see that we’ve fled the village for this to work.”

  “I see. Your analysis is worthy of your position, Captain. You have my admiration. May you be victorious.”

  “May your journey continue, Sir Gown.”

  Ainz watched until Gazef’s silhouette grew small. Perhaps sensing something in his mood, Albedo said nothing despite their lack of time.

  Ainz sighed. “I feeling nothing more toward a human I’m meeting for the first time than I would for a bug, but…once I try talking to them, I start to get attached as if they were cute little animals.”

  “Is that why you swore on your honor along with your sacred name?”

  “Maybe… No. It was because of the strong will of someone prepared to die…”

  He admired that.

  Gazef had a strong will, unlike himself.

  “Albedo, relay orders to the minions in the area: Check for any ambushing troops. If there are any, knock them out.”

  “At once. Ah, Lord Ainz, the headman is coming.”

  Following Albedo’s line of sight Ainz saw the headman heading their way with two villagers. Anxiety and unease had spurred them to run, and they were out of breath, but they began to speak as soon as they reached him as if they couldn’t even spare the time it would take to recover.

  “Lord Ainz, what should we do? Why has the captain refused to protect us and left the village?” The headman’s words contained more than fear. The feeling of abandonment was turning to rage.

  “The captain did the right thing, Mr. Headman. The enemy is after him. If he stayed, the village would be the battleground and they probably wouldn’t pass up the chance to kill the people. Him leaving was the best thing for you.”

  “So that’s…why he left? We should stay here, then…?”

  “No. I’m sure they’ll come back for the survivors here. We can’t run while we’re surrounded, but they’ll probably attack the captain with all they’ve got. That’s our chance to escape. Let’s take that opening.”

  That was why he’d left the village in such a visible way. He was acting as a decoy to draw the enemy’s focus. Comprehending the unspoken nuance that the captain didn’t stand much chance of victory, the headman blushed and hung his head. The captain had gone to battle prepared to die in order to create a chance for the villagers to escape… The headman hadn’t realized, and his misunderstanding made him angry. He must have been ashamed of himself.

  “And here I was thinking… Oh, Lord Ainz, what can I…? What should we do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We live near the forest, but we were never attacked by monsters. We were only lucky, but we mistook luck as safety and forgot how to defend ourselves. The result is that many of our neighbors have been killed and we’ve been a burden on everyone…” Not only the headman’s expression, but those of the villagers behind him, too, were full of regret.

  “There was nothing you could have done. Your opponents were veterans. If you had put up a fight, it’s possible you’d have all died before I arrived.”

  He tried to comfort them, but he didn’t sense their sorrow letting up at all. Really, this was not something words would fix. All he could do was pray that time would heal them.

  “Mr. Headman, we don’t have much time. We should get going so the captain’s resolve will not be in vain.”

  “Y-yes, you’re right. What are you planning to do, Lord Ainz?”

  “I’m going to keep an eye on things and escape with all of you when the time is right.”

  “We’re bothering you again…”

  “Please don’t worry about it. I promised the captain I would protect you. For now, please gather all the villagers in one of the bigger houses. I’ll cast a bit of magic defense.”

  4

  He could feel the horse’s agitation in his legs. Even though the mount was trained to be a warhorse, or perhaps precisely because he was so trained, he’d picked up on the fact that they were heading to their doom.

  There were only four or five opponents, but they were spread out to surround the village. Because of that, the space between them was wide, but they must have been creating a perfect cage somehow.

  In other words, a total trap. Step in
side and the jaws of death would open.

  Gazef knew that, but he was going to try to break through. That was the only option he had.

  He had no chance of winning at range against casters. If he had some archers or someone with the talent and resources to fight at range, it might have been different, but since he didn’t, he had to avoid a ranged battle.

  Fighting it as a siege would be ridiculous.

  Maybe if they’d had a stone fortress with big thick walls, but wooden houses wouldn’t do a thing to block magic. One wrong move and the village would be burned down.

  There was one last way, but he felt it was definitely the moral low road: Fight inside the village such that Ainz Ooal Gown got caught up in it, forcing him to help.

  But if he was going to use a plan like that, his reason for coming to this village in the first place would be lost. That’s why he chose the thorny path.

  “We’ll attack the enemy to draw them out of their circle and then retreat. We can’t miss that chance!”

  His men gave a spirited reply behind him, and he furrowed his brow.

  How many of us will make it out of this alive?

  It wasn’t as if any of them were talent holders; they were all just what they seemed, but they had come up through Gazef’s training and were the product of hard, unceasing work. It would be a shame to lose them.

  Gazef knew he was making a stupid move, but his men followed him anyway. He turned to shout an apology for getting them mixed up in this, but when he saw their expressions, he swallowed every word.

  They were the faces of warriors. Their expressions showed their determination to see this through despite knowing what lay in store. It wouldn’t be right to apologize to these men, who had decided to follow him despite the danger. He felt embarrassed, but his men peppered him with encouragement.

  “Don’t worry about it, Captain!”

  “Yeah, we’re here because we want to be! We’re with you to the end!”

  “Please allow us to protect our country, its people, and our friends!”

  Gazef no longer had any words.

  He faced forward and howled, “Let’s go! We’re gonna rip their guts out!”

  “Yaaaaaah!”

  Gazef spurred his horse and was off and running. His men followed. The horses galloped at full speed, kicking up dirt as they went across the plain straight as an arrow.

  As he rode, Gazef took out his bow and nocked an arrow. Rocking with his horse, he drew casually and let go. The arrow flew true and sunk into the head of a caster in front of them—or at least it seemed like it was going to.

  “Tch! So these won’t do anything… If I had magic arrows, they’d work, but whining about things I don’t have won’t get me anywhere.”

  The arrow had bounced off as if the caster were wearing a solid helmet. That bizarre hardness had to be due to some kind of magic spell. As far as Gazef knew, to penetrate magic that protected against projectile weapons, one needed an enchanted weapon. He didn’t have one, so he gave up on shooting and put away his bow.

  The casters countered with magic. Gazef braced himself mentally to resist, but just then his horse screamed, rearing back and pawing the air with his hooves.

  “Whoa! Easy, boy!” Gazef frantically pulled the reins in and leaned forward to grab hold of the horse’s neck. That split-second action saved him from falling. The sudden panic sent a chill down his spine, but he managed to suppress it. He had more important things to worry about.

  Breathing heavily, irregularly, Gazef spurred his horse, but he wouldn’t budge. It was as if he had some other master who was more important than the one on top of him. Psychic magic—they’d put a spell on his horse. Gazef must have resisted it, but his horse was no magical creature; there was no way the animal would’ve been able to resist.

  He dismounted, irritated with himself for failing to foresee such an obvious attack. His men rode carefully around him, parting to either side.

  “Captain!” The riders at the tail end of the group slowed down and held out their hands. They meant to pull him up onto one of their horses. But an angel bent on not letting him get away flew over faster. Gazef took aim and whipped out his sword.

  A sturdy swing.

  The strongest man in the kingdom brandished his sword, and it had the force to cut through anything. Though he cut deeply into the angel’s flesh, however, it wasn’t enough to kill it.

  The blood it coughed up dispersed as a puff of the same magical energy that made up its body.

  “I’m fine! Turn around and charge!” After giving the order, he glared sharply at the angel that had gotten away. It was seriously wounded but was still raring for a fight and looking for an opening to attack him.

  “I see.” Something had felt off when he’d brought his sword down, and he realized now what it had been. Some monsters took very little damage unless a weapon of a specific make was used. Angels had that power. That’s why it’d been able to take that blow without falling.

  In that case— Gazef gathered the power within him and used the martial art Focus Battle Aura. His blade began to glow faintly. Taking advantage of the opening, the angel brought down its crimson sword, but—

  “You’re too late!” To the strongest warrior around, it was way too slow. His sword flew. This slice couldn’t even be compared to the previous one—he ripped easily through the angel’s body.

  Its structure collapsed, and the angel melted into the air. The way its feathers glittered as they disappeared was like a captivating illusion. If he weren’t in such a hopeless situation, enveloped in the stench of blood, he might have marveled, but his focus was already elsewhere.

  Gazef scanned to see where the next attack would come from, and a wry smile played across his face—the number of enemies had increased. In the couple of moments he’d taken his eyes off of the battlefield at large, the enemy had gathered, along with their angels. It was clear that they’d achieved it by no ordinary means.

  “Dammit, you can do anything with magic!” He cursed the casters who could perform feats impossible for a warrior like they were trivialities, but calmly counted them and confirmed that it was all the members who had been encircling the village.

  So the village was no longer surrounded.

  “Okay, Sir Gown, I’m counting on you.”

  His heart filled with joy for being able to save the lives, which had seemed beyond his grasp, but he remained on guard and stared down the enemy.

  The sound of pounding hooves grew louder in Gazef’s ears—his men had turned and were charging.

  “I thought I told them once the circle started contracting we were going to retreat. Those idiots… I’m so damn proud of them…”

  Gazef ran like the wind.

  This was perhaps their biggest and only chance. Judging from the speed of the riders, their opponents would probably concentrate their magic on them to prevent them from getting closer. That would give Gazef the opportunity to turn this into a melee battle. That was the only thing he could do.

  His men’s horses screamed and threw their front legs into the air like his had. Some of the men fell and groaned. Then, the angels attacked.

  His men and the angels were evenly matched in terms of strength, but when it came to basic and special abilities, his men were overwhelmingly inferior. As he expected, half of the angels ganged up on them. It wasn’t only that—the spells the casters lobbed into the fray created a definite power gap.

  One after another, his men fell to the ground.

  Gazef ran, not even looking to confirm what he already knew.

  His aim was the commanding priest. Not that he thought killing him would make them back down, but it was the only way he and his men would survive. In response to his charge, more than thirty angels moved into his path. That proved what a serious threat they felt he was, but it didn’t make him a bit happy.

  “You’re in my way!” He engaged the ace up his sleeve. The heat from his hand wrapped around his entire body. He fl
esh went beyond its limits and he achieved hero level. At the same time he simultaneously unleashed multiple martial arts—the equivalent of magic spells for a warrior.

  He glared at the six angels leaping for him: “Sixfold Slash of Light!” It was a martial art performed at a godly speed, over in a flash. One swing, six slashes. The six angels around him were cut in two and disintegrated into specks of light.

  From the Slane Theocracy’s side came alarmed voices—from Gazef’s men, cheers.

  His arm was prickling after using such a major art, but he could tell the pain was at a level where his muscles hadn’t deteriorated.

  As if ordered to cut the cheering short, a new group of angels headed for them right away. One of them broke off and came swinging at Gazef.

  “Instant Reflex!” The moment the angel’s sword came down, the spell activated and Gazef moved in a blur. Before the angel’s sword could rip through him, he’d dispatched the angel with his. In one blow, the angel turned into specks of light.

  Gazef’s offensive didn’t end there. “Flow Acceleration!” In fluid motions, he slashed through the angels coming toward him.

  He’d taken down another two angels after using a major art. Seeing their captain pull off a feat that would be impossible for a normal person began to give the men hope that they could do it, that they could win.

  But the theocracy wasn’t about to allow that. Their taunts drowned out the hopeful aura.

  “Superb. But that’s all. Priests who’ve lost angels, summon the next! Bombard Stronoff with magic!”

  They’d been approaching hope but were plunged back into despair.

  “Not good,” Gazef spat as he dispatched another angel. There were no more cheers even when he got a kill. His men all swung their swords with fretful looks on their faces.

  Manpower, gear, experience, individual strength—on almost all accounts, they came up short, and now they had lost their main weapon, the hope that they’d win.

  Gazef dodged the swords that came down around him unconsciously and then hammered back at the enemy. He was definitely making angels disappear with each swing, but there were still so many.