The unknown World Item holder who must be their enemy, the other Yggdrasil players who may or may not exist, the shadows of players who must have been here once… Of course, it was too soon to conclude they were all enemies, but operating under that assumption would keep them from getting caught unawares later. Always expect the worst.
“Until we know who they are, let’s keep a low profile. But we might need to lay out some bait to catch our prey… So, how’s the plan going?”
Albedo’s reluctance to meet his gaze gave Ainz some idea. “There’s no report from Cocytus. According to Entoma, nothing is outside the realm of what we anticipated. I think they’ll get into formation soon near the target location and send the forewarning.”
“I see… Not exactly what I was hoping to hear, but I guess we’ll see what comes of it.”
“It helps us if you can see it that way.”
“Okay. Really, I’d like to take a look at how things are going. Unfortunately, I’ve got a pile of adventurer work to do, so I have to go. But I want to see how the fight goes, so record it for me—the lizardmen versus the army of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.”
Chapter 1 | Departure
1
The Great Tove Woodlands stretched across the southern foothills of the Azerlisia Mountains, which served as a natural border between the Baharuth Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom. North of the forest was a huge lake. This body of water was shaped like an inverted calabash, split into an upper and a lower lake, with a diameter of about twenty-four miles. The deeper upper lake was home to larger creatures, while in the lower portion dwelled smaller life-forms.
Where the lower lake merged with wetlands to the south, numerous buildings stood in the everglade. Each one had a foundation of about ten stilts set into the marsh. It was the type of structure people often built to live over water.
The door to one of those buildings opened, and the master of the house came out into the sunlight. He was a type of creature known as a lizardman.
Lizardmen resembled a cross between a reptile and a human. More specifically, they were lizards that had hands and feet like humans and walked on two legs, though their heads had almost no human features.
Most classified these creatures as subhumans, similar to goblins and orcs, and their civilization was less advanced than humans’. Though their way of life was often considered barbaric, they still had their own culture, even if an unrefined one.
The average height of an adult male lizardman was about six foot three, and their weight was easily over two hundred and twenty pounds—not from fat but because they boasted fairly robust physiques with bulging muscles. To help keep them balanced, they had long reptilian tails growing from their lower backs.
Over the course of their evolution geared toward ease of movement in the wetlands, they had developed broad webbed feet. That did give them a little trouble moving around on land, but this was not a problem for their everyday lives. Their scales, which ranged in color from a dark green to gray or even black, were not like lizards’ but hornier like alligators’. They were harder than the weakest armors of humans.
Their hands had five fingers like human hands, though their fingers ended in short claws. The weapons they wielded with those hands were extremely primitive. Since they didn’t have many opportunities to acquire metal ore in the marsh, most of the weapons they used were spears made with monster fangs or claws, or blunt stone weapons.
The sky was a single clear shade of blue, and the sun shone brilliantly near its zenith. The weather was nice, with only a wisp of white clouds like the brushstrokes of a painter over a clear view of the mountains thrusting up in the distance.
Because lizardmen had such a wide field of vision, he—Zaryusu Shasha—could see the blinding sun without moving his head. Narrowing his eyes to vertical slits, he rhythmically descended the stoop.
He scratched the brand on his black-scaled chest. The mark indicated his position within his tribe.
The lizardmen tribes had created an organized caste society. At the top was the tribal chief. Their leaders were not selected based on bloodline but simply by who was the strongest. The ceremony to choose the chief was held every few years. Then came the council of elders made up of selected seniors. Beneath them, society consisted of the warrior caste, then the normal males, the females, and the children.
Of course, there were those who did not fit into this hierarchy. First, there were the druid priests. They supported the tribe by predicting the weather, forecasting danger, and using healing magic.
There were also hunting parties made up of rangers. Their primary role was fishing and hunting, but since the regular lizardmen cooperated with them on that, their most important work was in the forest.
Lizardmen were basically omnivorous, but fish made up 80 percent of their diet, and they didn’t eat many plants or fruit. The reason they still sent hunting parties into the woods was mainly lumber. Since land wasn’t safe for lizardmen, simply venturing into the woods to cut trees was a job for technical experts.
These rangers were allowed a degree of autonomy in the field, but they were still under the chief and expected to follow his orders. In this way, lizardman society was a patriarchy with strict role division. But there were some exceptions, beings completely outside the chief’s command.
Travelers.
The word traveler might bring to mind outsiders, but visiting foreigners were unheard of. Lizardman society was generally isolationist, so accepting anyone from outside the tribe was rare.
So then, who were these travelers?
They were lizardmen who wished to see the world.
Barring some kind of emergency, such as being unable to obtain food, these creatures would virtually never leave their birthplace. But a few rare exceptions longed to see the outside world.
When travelers decided to leave their tribe, they were branded with a special mark on their chests. It signified that they were no longer under the tribe and its authority.
Most of those who set out into the world never came back. Perhaps they perished wherever they ended up, or they found a new life for themselves. Their fates were never certain. But sure enough, every so often, they concluded their journeys and went home.
Returning travelers were valuable for the knowledge they brought back with them. They were outsiders when it came to the tribal hierarchy but gained respect in a different way.
Truth be told, there were those in the village who disliked Zaryusu, but in general, he was well regarded. Not just because he was a traveler, but because…
He stepped off the last stair into the marsh; the trusty weapon slung at his waist clinked against his scales. The pale blade glowed faintly. It had a strange shape, where the blade and grip united into something like a three-pronged club. But past the handle, the blade tapered to points only about as thick as a piece of parchment.
There was not a lizardman alive who didn’t know this weapon. All the members of every tribe recognized the magic items known as the Four Great Treasures, and Zaryusu’s sword was the one named Frost Pain.
That famous weapon was the reason for Zaryusu’s renown.
He set off at a casual pace.
He had two destinations, and he made sure to take a gift to leave at one of them. His presents were four huge fish—each over three feet long. These were the staple food for his people, and he carried them on his back. The fishy smell didn’t bother Zaryusu. On the contrary, it made him extremely hungry.
I wanna just eat them. He snorted a couple of times to clear his mind and splish-splashed his way into the Green Claw village.
Some children with still-vibrant green scales ran past him, laughing “shaa-shaa,” but stopped in their tracks when they noticed his cargo. The growing children peeping out from the shade of their dwellings also focused on him—no, on the fish. Their mouths were slightly open, probably filled with drool. Even after he had moved on, their gazes followed him—the children wanted a snack.
He crac
ked a smile and walked on, pretending not to notice them. He’d already decided who these fish were for. Unfortunately for those kids, it wasn’t them.
Zaryusu was happy that the glint in their eyes wasn’t hunger, though. A few years ago, that would have been impossible.
With those yearning eyes on his back, he passed the houses standing here and there, and the hut he was aiming for came into view.
This was the edge of the village, and a little farther ahead was where the marsh began to deepen into more of a lake. The hut on this subtle boundary line was sturdier than it looked and bigger than Zaryusu’s house. If there was anything strange about it, it was definitely the structure’s slight tilt. Half the house was underwater, but this wasn’t due to decay—it had been intentionally built that way.
Zaryusu approached the hut, making loud sploosh-sploosh noises in the water. When he’d gotten closer, he heard an affection-seeking cry from inside, perhaps because the smell of the fish had wafted over.
A snakelike head poked out of one of the building’s openings. Once the dark-brown-scaled, amber-eyed head confirmed it was Zaryusu, it stretched its neck out to wrap itself affectionately around him.
“There, there.” Zaryusu pet the snake with a practiced hand. The snake smiled at the sensation, narrowing its eyes—it had eyelids besides the protective coating over its eyeballs. The snake’s scales felt nice against Zaryusu’s hand, too.
This creature was Zaryusu’s pet. His name was Rororo.
Since Zaryusu had been taking care of Rororo for most of the pet’s life, he felt they could even have conversations. “Rororo, I brought you some food! Eat up, okay?” He tossed through the window the fish he brought. A noise like a splash, or maybe a splat, sounded from inside. “I’d like to stay and play, but I have to go check on the fish. See you later.”
As if he could understand what was being said, the snake rubbed against Zaryusu a couple of times, reluctant to let him go, and then withdrew into the hut. After that came the sound of clutching and chewing. Figuring from Rororo’s enthusiasm that he was in good shape, Zaryusu left the hut.
Zaryusu’s next objective was also a bit removed from the village, at the lakeshore. He pattered quietly through the forest with quiet pleck-pleck sounds. Traveling by water would have been faster, but it had become a habit of his during his walks to see if there were any problems on land. Still, the low visibility thanks to the trees was a strain on even Zaryusu’s mind.
Eventually, though, his destination was visible through a gap in the woods. He sighed with relief that nothing had happened. Then, slipping through the trees, he closed the rest of the distance with quick steps.
After ducking under the last of the jutting branches, Zaryusu widened his eyes in surprise—he never imagined he would see that familiar figure here. It was a lizardman with black scales like his own.
“Brother—”
“Oh, it’s you.” The black-scaled lizardman turned around and focused his eyes on Zaryusu to greet him.
This was the chief of the Green Claw tribe and Zaryusu’s elder brother, Shasuryu Shasha. He had been victorious in two contests to decide who would be chief and maintained rule for the current term without needing to fight. The most distinct feature of this lizardman was his physique. Next to him, Zaryusu, with his average build, looked small. Old scars ran white across Shasuryu’s black scales, like lightning bolts tearing through a dark cloud. He carried a huge sword on his back—a thick, rugged thing about six and a half feet long. The steel sword—proof that he was chief—was enchanted with magic that prevented rust and made it sharper.
Zaryusu stood next to his brother on the lakeshore.
“What are you doing in a place like this?”
“I could ask you the same thing, brother. The chief doesn’t need to bother coming all the way out here.”
“Mph.” At a loss for words, Shasuryu answered with his characteristic grunt and looked out toward the lake.
Sturdy poles jutted out of the water to surround the area, with extremely fine nets strung between the poles. The setup was immediately recognizable—a fish preserve.
“You didn’t come to sneak a bite, did you?”
Shasuryu’s tail jumped and slapped the ground a couple of times. “Mph. I wouldn’t do that. I just came to see how the breeding is going.”
“…”
“Zaryusu, do you really think of me that way?!” he said with force and loomed a step closer. The pressure he gave off was like a wall closing in, making it so even the traveler and veteran fighter Zaryusu felt the need to back up a couple of steps.
But he had the perfect comeback. “So, if you only came to look in on the breeding, then I guess you don’t want any, huh? That’s too bad, brother. If they were growing well, I was going to give you some.”
“Mph.” The slapping noise stopped and Shasuryu’s tail drooped.
“They’re real tasty. Nice and fat because they’ve been getting proper nutrition. They have more fat on them than the normal fish you can catch.”
“Oh?”
“When you bite into them that quality fat just oozes out. And when you tear a piece off, it melts in your mouth.”
“Mmmmph.” The slapping started up again, but more intensely than before.
Zaryusu eyed his brother’s excited appendage and said half-teasingly, “Your wife says your heart’s in your tail.”
“What? How dare she mock her husband. Besides, what does she mean by that, anyway?” he answered, looking over his shoulder at his now motionless tail.
Zaryusu wasn’t sure how to respond, and a dry “ahh” was all he could muster.
“Sheesh. She’s so… If you got hitched, you’d know how I feel.”
“Oh, I can’t get married.”
“Ha. Nonsense. You mean because of that mark? It doesn’t matter what the elders say—you can just ignore them. Plus, I don’t think there’s a single female in the village who would hate getting propositioned by you… They’ll take anyone with a good tail.”
Lizardmen stored nutrition in their tails, so larger ones were appealing to the opposite sex. In the past, Zaryusu might have preferred thick-tailed females, but as a male who had grown up and seen the world, he’d rather avoid them now if he could.
“I’m not that into the fat-tailed females in the village now. If it came to it, I’d choose a skinnier one. Personally, your wife’s size is fine for me.”
“That may be, given your personality, but stay away from the taken ones. I’m not participating in any pointless bloodshed. Hmm, but you should know the pain of marriage. It’s not fair if I’m the only one.”
“Whoa, whoa. I’m gonna tell your wife.”
“Mph. There you go—this is one of the pains of being married. I’m the chief of the tribe and your elder brother, but you can blackmail me so easily.”
Their happy laughter echoed out over the lake for a few moments.
When it stopped, Shasuryu observed the fish preserve with some emotion. “This is really something, though. Your…”
When he couldn’t find the word, Zaryusu gave him a hand. “Preserve?”
“Yeah, that. No one has ever done something like this in our tribe before. And news of your success has already spread far and wide. At this rate, all the people watching, envious of your fish, will start to imitate you.”
“It’s thanks to you, brother. I know you talked to everyone about it.”
“Zaryusu, all I did was relay the truth. I just chatted with them. What’s significant is that you worked hard and raised these delicious-looking fish here.”
At first, the project met failure after failure. Of course it had. He’d just heard explanations on his travels and tried to build it based on those. Even building the fence was a string of failures. After a year of trial and error, the preserve was built, but that wasn’t the end.
He had to take care of the fish. He had to feed them. How many times had the fish died on him as he threw in different foods to test wh
at would be best? There were times monsters ripped through the enclosure nets and made all his hard work for nothing.
He was criticized for “playing” with fish caught as food. People had even called him stupid. But now the fruits of his labor were plain to see.
The shadow of a big fish swimming by floated below the surface of the lake. It was fairly big, even for the fish that could be caught in the area. No one would believe he’d raised it from a fry, except for his brother and sister-in-law.
“It’s really something, Zaryusu,” Shasuryu murmured again as they stood watching the scene together. His words were filled with emotion.
Zaryusu’s words were just as heartfelt. “It’s part thanks to you, brother.”
“Mph. What did I even do?”
Sure, Shasuryu hadn’t done anything, but in only the most technical sense.
When the fish weren’t doing well, a priest would suddenly appear. When it was time to gather fence-making materials, there were helping hands. When the catch of the day was distributed, healthy, live fish came his way. There were also hunters who brought fruit as fish food.
It was never revealed who had asked for these people to help him. But even a total fool could tell who was behind it—and that he didn’t feel like being named. It wouldn’t look good for the chief to support a traveler who had deviated from the tribe’s caste system.
“Brother, when they get bigger, I’ll bring some to you first.”
“Heh. I’ll be looking forward to it.” Shasuryu spun on his heel and began walking away. Then he murmured, “Sorry.”
“…What are you talking about, brother? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Did he hear him or not? Zaryusu watched as Shasuryu headed into the distance along the edge of the lake without a word.
After confirming everything was all right at the fish preserve, Zaryusu had returned to the village, but he suddenly felt something strange and looked at the sky. It was just a normal sky, an endless stretch of blue with the mountains breaking through a wisp of cloud to the north.
The Lizardman Heroes Page 2