The Invaders of the Great Tomb

by Kugane Maruyama

  The dual blades traced their arcs.

  The more acclimated to the speed of Hekkeran’s swings Ainz had become during their earlier exchanges, the more his timing would be off now, and the more difficult it would be for him to evade. Because Hekkeran had arranged things ahead of time, because getting too comfortable meant the end, this would be a lethal strike.

  Ainz wouldn’t be able to react.

  He’s mine!

  The moment his swords should have been slicing into Ainz’s unguarded skull, the impact he felt was not that of blade against bone.

  Perfect resistance to cutting damage?!

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

  So he’s completely resistant to stabbing and cutting?! Is it even possible for a monster like that to exist?!

  As Hekkeran rushed to withdraw, a cold sensation plastered over his forehead. It was Ainz’s hand. Its viselike grip wouldn’t let Hekkeran escape.

  “Hekkeran!”

  “Imina! He’s completely resistant to cutting damage!” He endured the awful pain and relayed the information he’d gained to his teammate behind him. That was when, still in Ainz’s clutches, he felt himself get lifted off the ground. He lashed out with the flat of his sword, but the undead’s grip showed no signs of loosening.

  “No. Stabbing, cutting, or crushing—it doesn’t matter. Attacks from weaklings like you can’t even scratch me.”

  “How does that work?! What a cheater! That’s so low!”

  “He’s lying, Imina! If that were true, he wouldn’t have to fight so hard. He must have some weakness!”

  “You can’t fool us!”

  “I’m sad that you don’t believe me. I thought you understood well enough from that conversation earlier, but our close-quarters battle up until now was basically an experiment. You must have taken hope from the fact that you put up an okay fight? I’ll be merciful and hope that you’re able to have nice dreams even in the hell that awaits you!”

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

  Hekkeran heard arrows being fired in rapid succession, but Ainz seemed unfazed and the pain in his forehead remained.

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

  The horrible pain in Hekkeran’s head made him scared it might just crack open. He struggled, but his opponent didn’t budge. He kicked him with his steel-toed boots, but only stubbed his toes.

  “Does it hurt? Don’t worry. I won’t kill you now. This is the most pity I can take on thieves—Paralysis.”

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

  “Maybe Touch of Undeath was a waste if I was only going to paralyze him?”

  Hekkeran’s ears picked up sounds in vain.

  He heard a series of bow twangs.

  The response was a ridiculing voice. “How many times do I have to tell you…? No, it’s fine, you can resist. You’ll feel more helpless that way.”

  Run!

  His mouth wouldn’t move, but it trembled.

  Even if they ran as fast as they could, this wasn’t a run-of-the-mill enemy they could escape. But fighting was even more foolish. Especially without their warrior to keep the enemy’s attacks at bay, their line would surely crumble.

  “So who’s next? You could have all come at me at once, but I suppose that’s not much fun.”

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

  He wasn’t dead, but he might as well have been. She couldn’t think of a way to save him from this incomprehensible monster, Ainz Ooal Gown. Still—

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

  Irritation welled up inside her.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid! You big blockhead! Moron!”

  “…Those aren’t very nice things to say to the man who tried to protect you.”

  His words showed he understood nothing about Imina’s feelings. But how could a monster understand human emotion?

  “I know that! He’s such a great leader that he’s practically wasted on us!” She took a breath. “But you’re still stupid—to get carried away by your feelings!”

  “…What are you talking about?”

  She ignored the questioning voice and thought. That was the deputy leader’s job now that their leader was down.

  Throw away your hesitation, she told herself. She suppressed the feelings of a woman who wanted to go save her man.

  She had to abandon Hekkeran and take the information she’d gained back to the others. She had to tell them what a horrifying monster they’d found in the ruins and possibly put together a subjugation squad.

  Evil spirits…

  Is this what the king of the demons who ravaged the continent two hundred years ago was like?

  She suddenly felt like her world had turned into a myth or something. That couldn’t be true, but she did have a sense of dreamlike uncertainty.

  Myths, huh? It’s weird to say that. The ones who would fight this sort of monster were heroes…

  That was when it hit her.

  Yes, the ones who fought the evil spirits were heroes—the Thirteen Heroes. So the only one who would be able to fight Ainz was a hero.

  “Give Hekkeran back! If we don’t return in a certain amount of time, the strongest person in the world is going to storm in here! If you send us safely back to where we were before, we’ll call him off.”

  “Another lie?” Ainz sighed.

  Sweat appeared on Imina’s forehead. This was true. “No, it’s not a lie.”

  “Albedo. Is there any sign of someone strong up on the surface in this area?”

  “No, my lord. This must be a silly lie.”

  “It’s not a lie!” A girl’s voice sounded behind Imina. “An adamantite-rank adventurer, Momon of Raven Black, is with us! He’s the most powerful warrior! He’s stronger than you!”

  Albedo looked shaken for the first time. Flustered, she bowed to Ainz. “I—I beg your pardon, my lord. There was indeed an adventurer. P-please forgive me.”

  “Mm… Ahh well, you don’t need to worry about it, Albedo. Momon of Raven Black, hmm? By the way, he… Eh, whatever. He can’t win against me.”

  The switch from the previously furious demon king into this somewhat drained, shoulder-shrugging attitude made it seem like Ainz was hiding something, but she didn’t know what it could be.

  “Momon is stronger than you!”

  “No, you can’t use him to negotiate. Give it up.” Ainz waved her protests away with an unmotivated air. “Okay, shall we get started?”

  His vibe said the time for idle chatter was over.

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

  “Look up! We must be outside. If you fly, you might be able to escape! Even if you’re the only one who makes it, please go! We’ll save you a minute…well, at least ten seconds!”

  “That’s quite an interesting proposal. Aura, go open the door. It might be fun to play.”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  Ainz indicated the door through which Roberdyck and the others had come. Aura jumped, with a glimmer of her shoes, and disappeared.

  “Okay, she’s teleported and is probably opening the door now. If you’d like to go, be my guest. Abandon your friends and leave. So who will run?”

  Ainz gestured at the door once again. There was no expression on his bony face, but they could understand clearly—the sinister grin, the smile in anticipation of their friendship breaking.

  It was true that unlike adventurers, many worker teams formed only out of an interest in money, so there was a higher chance that someone would declare every man for himself and run for it. But Foresight wasn’t like that.

  “Go, Arché!”

  “Yeah, you should go.” Imina smiled. “You have your little sisters, right? So leave us here and go. That’s what you need to do!”

  “But this is all my fault!”

&nb
sp; Noting that Ainz didn’t seem interested in attacking immediately, Roberdyck walked over to Arché. Then he took a small leather pouch out of his breast pocket and pressed it into her hand. “It’s okay. We’ll defeat this Ainz monster and come right after you.”

  “Yeah. And then you’ll treat us to a drink.” Imina also took out a small leather pouch and gave it to Arché.

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

  “And mine.”

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

  They didn’t have the slightest hope they would beat this unimaginable being, Ainz.

  Arché knew this was their final farewell, and her response was more sob than words. “…Godt id. I’ll leab firsd, then.” She began to cast a spell.

  “There are monsters in the air, so even if you try to fly away, you’ll get caught.”

  “Fly!” Ignoring Ainz’s warning, she finished the spell. With one last glance at her friends, she flew into the sky.

  “Well, yeah. It’s faster than walking, and you don’t get so tired.” He acted as if those things had slipped his mind. “Anyhow, I’m impressed you guys didn’t have a falling-out. I thought for sure you would make more of a scene.”

  “You wouldn’t understand. We’re friends.”

  “Yeah. It’s not so bad to die as a shield protecting your fri—” Then something dawned on her. “Weren’t your friends like that?”

  “Nrgh!”

  “Your friends were probably wonderful, weren’t they? We get along just as well as you guys probably did.”

  “You’re right,” Ainz murmured quietly. The evil atmosphere of a moment ago had vanished as if it were a lie. “‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends’—the Gospel of Mark, was it?”

  “We’re fine dying. But in light of the fact that we’re taking the same action as your wonderful friends, please spare her.”

  “Nrgh…” Ainz hesitated a couple of moments and then shook his head. “I have no pity for you thieves. Suffer, suffer, suffer, and then die. But in light of the fact that you were willing to give your lives to save your friend, I’ll do something else with her…”

  He calmly turned his back to the two workers and called again to the VIP box. “Shalltear.” His attitude said there was no chance he would sustain damage.

  But that was true. No matter what kind of attack they used, it wouldn’t reach him. The leeway he showed was due to his understanding of that. The two of them had no way to harm the monster known as Ainz. And so they stayed composed and racked their brains. They at least needed to buy Arché some time.

  Even if it felt futile, they had to do it. Imina and Roberdyck exchanged glances and nodded to each other.

  Meanwhile, a girl floated down from the VIP box in response to Ainz’s call.

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

  She possessed such beauty that it captured the workers’ attention despite the rage driving them.

  Suddenly, the gorgeous girl shifted her gaze to look directly at them. Beautiful crimson eyes. Imina felt almost as if they were squeezing her heart. Roberdyck also seemed to be assailed by so much pressure he could barely breathe, much less move.

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

  “Shalltear. Teach that girl the meaning of fear. Let her punishment for invading the Great Tomb of Nazarick be the plunge from the naive hope of potential escape into the despair that will occur the moment she faces the truth. Then have mercy and give her a painless death.”

  “Understood, Lord Ainz.”

  The girl—Shalltear—smiled at him. But seeing the practically sparkling smile gave Imina chills. She knew instinctively that the girl was just a monster wearing pretty skin.

  “Enjoy the hunt.”

  “Indeed, I shall.” Shalltear bowed deeply and then set off walking at a leisurely pace.

  Another Imina was shouting in a corner of her mind that every step that girl took was a step closer to Arché’s death, but she and Roberdyck still couldn’t move.

  Shalltear walked by without paying them a fraction of her attention, without giving them so much as a glance. The distance was such that if they ran they could have caught up in no time, but it felt so far.

  “What’s wrong? Still not going to move? You could have attacked while we were talking… You guys have better manners than I would have expected.”

  He wasn’t making fun of them. He was serious. In a way, he seemed disappointed in them, and that gave Imina a bit of her will to fight back.

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

  “I’ll tell you…priest. Here in Nazarick, death is merciful because it means no more pain.”

  A silence descended. Mouths would no longer do the talking—only the weapons held in their hands.

  “Let’s go, Rober!”

  “Indeed! Rrrraaagh!”

  With an uncharacteristic battle cry, Roberdyck smashed his mace into Ainz’s head. He’d struck without thinking, using all his strength. He figured Ainz wouldn’t dodge, so he’d put every ounce of energy in his body into it.

  The mighty blow connected with Ainz’s face, but as expected, he didn’t seem to feel any pain. Roberdyck unleashed a follow-up attack, thrusting out an empty hand.

  “Middle Cure Wounds!”

  The target of the healing spell was Ainz—because healing magic naturally hurt undead. But before it could do anything, something like an invisible wall stopped it from taking effect, just as with Arché’s attack spell.

  “Ahhhhh!”

  With a scream that said she’d pulled out all the stops, Imina drew her bowstring—and let go. Roberdyck may have been right next to Ainz, but she wasn’t so clumsy that she would accidentally hit him. At this range, she was a hundred for a hundred.

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

  He suddenly vanished.

  It’s the same tactic as before!

  “Teleportation magic!”

  “Wrong.”

  The voice came from behind her.

  “Imi—!”

  Faster than Roberdyck could scream, Ainz gently set his hand on Imina’s shoulder. She sensed no hostility whatsoever.

  But the effect was absolute. All the strength drained out of her body, and she crumpled. She’d managed to retain a firm grip on her consciousness, but it felt as if her muscles had turned to muck.

  “What in the world did you do to her?” Roberdyck asked in a quaking voice. He didn’t take his eyes off Imina on the floor or Ainz standing next to her.

  “You find it strange? It’s nothing really, though.” Ainz gave away his trick—with a heartbreaking answer. “It was pretty much the same as what I did before. After silently casting Stop Time, I used Touch of Undeath on my way over—the same spell I used on that man on the floor over there—and then I simply touched her from behind.”

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

  “…You stopped time…?”

  “Yes. Gotta have a way to deal with time! You guys will have to make sure you get one once you get to level seventy. Ahh, but your lives are going to end here, so maybe not.”

  Roberdyck’s teeth were chattering audibly.

  That’s a lie. If he could have screamed that, how happy he would have been. How much easier would it have been to deny everything this monster—no, he was more like a god—said, plug up his ears, and curl into a ball?

  He’d understood that this opponent was fairly strong.

  But stopping time wasn’t something a creature of this world should be able to do.

  People weren’t supposed to be able to govern or control the flow of time. So what could he hope to do against an opponent who could manipulate that? It seemed more likely that he would be able to cut down every tree in the great woodlan
ds with a sword.

  Ainz Ooal Gown… He was the type of being against which humans could never claim victory, a being in the divine realm.

  Roberdyck clutched his mace in both hands—

  —and felt something pat his shoulder.

  “Ngha…”

  His body froze. He knew who had tapped his shoulder without needing to look. Ainz, the godlike being who could manipulate time, should have been in front of him, but at some point he’d disappeared.

  A chill poured in from the hand on his shoulder, and he turned into an ice sculpture. He was so immobilized that’s what it felt like.

  “No, you can’t.”

  How gentle—a voice without a shred of hostility spoke to him. The mace dropped out of Roberdyck’s limp hands and fell to the ground.

  “Now, then,” murmured Ainz, gazing at Roberdyck, who had lost all will to fight. “That was futile, wasn’t it? Nice try.”

  None of their attacks had any effect. They had no way to deal damage to Ainz. Thoroughly beaten, Roberdyck quietly looked up at him and asked with a calm heart, “I’d like to ask you something. What fate awaits me?”

  “Hmm? You’re a faith caster, so yours will be different from theirs.” With those opening remarks, Ainz expounded on his plans. “First, those two. Aura, take them to the big pit. Apparently, the King of Hungry Prolyferum is running out of nests.”

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

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

  “Er, sure. That’s fine.”

  “Got it! I’ll make Mare do it!”

  “Oh—sorry. Anyhow, so their fate’s not going to be terribly carefree. Now, about you—ah, but before that… My subordinate who just went chasing after your friend is a faith caster, but the god she believes in is completely different from yours. Or rather, I’ve never heard of your Four Gods. So tell me something: The subordinate deities all have names, but the Four or the Six just go by their type—god of fire, god of earth, and so on. Why is that?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know.”

  “I see… So they aren’t transcendental beings possessing mystical powers but just deifications of great people from the past…”

  “Nonsense!”

  “Well, hear me out. That’s just what I think. But you guys say you borrow the power of the gods to cast your spells. Can a dead human help you out like that? I mean, what is a god when you get down to it anyway? Do they really exist? Do you really get your power from gods?”