The problem was that its power likely came from a curse.
White Dragon Bone made the wearer only as strong as the amount of intelligence they forfeited. On the body of someone wise, it could be harder than not only steel but also mythril or the legendary adamantite.
The catch was that any cleverness stolen by the armor would not return when the wearer took it off—thus its reputation of being cursed.
When the Razor Tail chief, famous for his wisdom, equipped the armor, he was able to repel all the weapons the lizardmen had. Its fellow Great Treasure Frost Pain was no exception. The armor had probably reached adamantite-level hardness.
While most who attempted to use White Dragon Bone had lost nearly all their intelligence and ended up idiots, the Razor Tail chief alone maintained a much lesser but still working mind, showing how intelligent he’d been from the start. That was why ever since he became chief, his tribe hadn’t held a fight to decide a new one.
“H-here marsh. Bad footing. Walls…break easy.”
“I see. So we should be more aggressive?” asked Crusch.
“Heh. Sounds good to me! Attacking feels better than defending anyhow. If everybody takes three or four? We just gotta beat ’em, right? It’ll be a cinch!”
The other participants all just looked at one another. Eventually, Crusch, overlooking Zenbel’s remarks, began to speak. “The problem will be if they have backup… It’s also possible they’re still assembling their force.”
“Nnn, I wonder. It doesn’t seem like they can fit any more undead in the clearing they have, at that size… Well, but they could just put them here and there throughout the forest.”
Undead didn’t need food, drink, or rest, so they didn’t require a large open campsite. For that reason, it was difficult to accurately estimate their numbers from the size of their location.
“We should keep the possibility of a siege battle in mind, just in case.”
“Then we of the Red Eye tribe will reinforce the walls so they’ll be able to withstand such a battle. Thanks in advance for your cooperation.”
All the other chiefs nodded in approval, even forlorn-looking Zenbel.
“For the time being, let’s prepare for a siege. Also, we need to define a system of command.”
“For starters, let’s have Crusch lead the priests. We should have her command them during the war, too.”
As everyone agreed with the Small Fang chief’s proposal, one voice objected. “The chiefs should be a separate group.” It had been Zaryusu who spoke, and all eyes gathered on him.
“Aha. I see what you mean, Zaryusu,” said Shasuryu.
“Plan to m-make…elite squad?”
“That’s right. There are a lot of enemies. If we don’t take out their commander, we may lose. And if monsters like those messengers to each village come out, we won’t be able to beat them with numbers—we’ll need a small select group.”
“But don’t we need commanding officers?”
“Can n…nomin…pick from…head warriors.”
“We’re fine without commanders. All we gotta do is hit the enemies in front of us!”
“…What if we had a separate group to give orders from the rear and only engage if we find their HQ or the battle takes a turn for the worse?”
“Sounds like a plan to me! Okay, so how about this group of six, including Zaryusu?” said Zenbel.
“No, let’s break it down further into three and three,” said Crusch. Splitting up meant they would be able to fight on two fronts, but it would make them weaker. “One group to go for the enemy commander and another to hang back on defense.”
“Then it would be smart to split up into us three chiefs, and then Zaryusu and the two chiefs he brought over. The squad roles we can play by ear,” offered the Small Fang chief.
“Mmm, I’m fine with that. Zaryusu?” said Shasuryu.
“Yeah, that’ll work. No objections, Crusch, Zenbel?”
“I’m fine with it.”
“Me, too, although it’s too bad I can’t just punch at random. You beat me, though, so I’ll follow your lead.”
“So we only have four days left until they attack, right?”
“Yup.”
“Then what do we need to do?”
“Get some stones for ammunition, reinforce the walls…and set up communication among tribes. We need a system to make sure everything is getting done.”
“The Small Fang tribe is for leaving the assigning of all these tasks up to Shasuryu like last time.”
“Us fine…too. You two…opinions?”
Crusch and Zenbel nodded their agreement.
“Then I’ll go ahead and take command. Let’s figure out a detailed plan for the next three days.”
Having finished his work for the day, Zaryusu walked silently through the busy village. Several lizardmen saw the brand on his chest and Frost Pain at his hip and greeted him respectfully. It was kind of a bother, but he had to reply to keep morale up. He put on a confident expression and responded as was expected of a hero.
Projecting that attitude, he headed to a part of the village’s outer wall. A hurried construction project was under way there, and several lizardmen worked on it single-mindedly.
First, they made a frame by filling the spaces between wooden posts with plants. Next, they coated it with pasty mud. The priests cast some kind of spell, and all the moisture evaporated at once to create a cracked wall. They repeated the same process on the back side.
“Oh, Zaryusu. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wondered what you were doing.” Zaryusu sloshed across the marsh to stand next to the overseer, plant monster Crusch. He pointed at the work going on in front of them. “What in the world is that?”
“A mud wall. We have no idea what kind of monsters might show up, so we thought it would be good to build a wall so they can’t get into the village so easily, but…we don’t have much time, and we’re not even halfway done.”
“I see… But isn’t mud really easy to break through?”
“No worries. A thin coat of mud is easy to break but not a thick wall. It’s a rush job, and we weren’t able to collect enough materials, so rain will weaken it a bit, but this wall won’t be destroyed so easily.”
Come to think of it, anything thick is hard to break. Zaryusu was convinced, but despite the dozen or so lizardmen frantically building, the pace was dismally slow. Tortoise slow. Even if they did their best for three more days, the wall wouldn’t get much longer. Still, something was better than nothing.
“Right now, we’re changing the parts we won’t be able to cover to a sturdy fence.” She pointed.
The workers had stood the posts up on triangular bases. Multiple ropes of woven plant material were strung loosely between them. Zaryusu remembered that this was the way the Red Eye tribe built their fences.
“What is that?”
“You weigh down the bases to make the posts impossible to pull or push over. Then the ropes are positioned so no one can slip between the posts. If you stretch them taut, they’re easier to cut with a sword, so you leave them loose on purpose.” Crusch replied to his question a little eagerly.
All during their trip she had been learning things from him, so she was happy to be the teacher for once. And there was another emotion she felt.
“I see… Yeah, that’ll take a lot to knock down.”
Crusch breathed deeply with pride when she heard Zaryusu’s admiration.
Zaryusu nodded emphatically.
The rushed fortifications were developing well. They weren’t much compared to what humans or dwarves could build, but considering they were on uneven marshland, there was probably nothing better.
“By the way, Zaryusu, did you tell the warriors—” Just then, they heard the voices of warriors shouting on the wind. They were excited about something.
“What the heck is going on? That’s a cheer I’ve heard somewhere before… Oh! It’s like when you were fighting. Could it be your b
rother and Zenbel?”
Zaryusu nodded, noting the uneasiness in Crusch’s eyes.
“Won’t it be trouble if your brother loses? He’s supposed to be the commander in chief.”
“Who knows? But he’s strong, you know. Especially if he has time to use his priest powers, he’ll grow stronger and stronger. My brother can definitely beat me if I’m not careful.”
Shasuryu’s fighting prowess after casting some protective spells on himself was no joke. Also, though he probably wouldn’t use his attack magic in a sparring match, if he started casting, he’d be so strong that Zaryusu wouldn’t have a chance without Frost Pain. After all, when Zaryusu had defeated the sword’s former owner, it had been Shasuryu who originally forced the owner to use up the entire day’s worth of Frost Pain’s power.
“I guess it’s okay, then…”
Crusch couldn’t seem to conceal her fear. As Zaryusu considered whether he should let her see his brother fight, he remembered a worry he hadn’t mentioned yet. He wondered whether he should say it or not, but then made up his mind.
It wasn’t fair to say something he’d withheld on purpose now that everything was decided, but he couldn’t suppress the simple yet intense feeling that he didn’t want to hide anything from the female he loved.
“I am worried about one thing…”
He couldn’t keep the fear out of his voice, and Crusch smiled—because she’d known there had been something. That smugness was so unlike her, so out of place, that Zaryusu couldn’t get any more words out.
The one who spoke instead was Crusch. “The thing you didn’t say back there? The scenario where the enemy expects this? The scenario where they’re just waiting for us to form an alliance?”
Zaryusu didn’t say anything. She was right.
The possibility lingered that the enemy had given the lizardman tribes time, clearly stated the order in which villages would be attacked, and allowed them to make war preparations only because they wanted to crush all the tribes in one fell swoop.
“There are a lot of things to worry about, especially for someone like you who thinks so much. But I believe we should just try to fight first…and then think from there?”
“Even if we win, that doesn’t mean they’ll just give up. No, honestly, the chance they’ll give up after one fight is so low.”
“Maybe so. But you were right about what you said that night, and look—” She raised her hand. She wasn’t pointing to anything in particular, but Zaryusu understood that she meant the whole village. “All of us are working together toward a common goal.”
It was true. All the different lizardmen were advancing toward a common objective.
He remembered the feast held the previous night to celebrate the five-tribe alliance. There hadn’t been any distinction among tribes. Of course, it would be a lie to say the survivors of the scattered clans had no hard feelings, but they had the will to swallow them for this alliance.
It’s so ironic, Zaryusu thought without moving his lips. He’d thought their isolation would continue on and on, but now everyone had united for the first time against a common enemy.
“What we have to protect is possibilities, Zaryusu. This alliance among all the tribes should allow us to grow.”
The mud walls were technology Zaryusu had never seen before, but another tribe knew it well. Soon, this type of wall would spread through all the tribes. With protection that sturdy, monsters wouldn’t be able to get into the villages anymore. That would lower the chances of weaker lizardmen and children being attacked, and the population would increase. Zaryusu’s fish preserves could provide food for the growing numbers. There could even be a day in the not-so-distant future when they made one big lizardman tribe on the marsh.
“Hey, let’s win this, Zaryusu. There’s no way to know what will happen next. It could be that if we win this one fight it’ll all be over. Then we can grow. Maybe the world will be a nice place where we don’t kill one another over food.” Crusch smiled.
Zaryusu held back the emotions that welled up inside him. He couldn’t risk letting them go and doing something ridiculous. But just this one thing…
“You really are a great female. When this fight is over, you need to let me know the answer to what I asked when we first met.”
Crusch’s smile grew even brighter. “Okay, Zaryusu. When it’s over, I’ll tell you.”
Demiurge hummed a cheerful tune as he worked.
He held up a polished bone, considering where to best put it. Finding the perfect spot, he filed the tip and fit the piece into one end of what he was building. The bone locked into place as if it had been made to go there.
In the same way that traditional wood joinery techniques allow furniture to be made without metal fastenings, what Demiurge was doing could be called “traditional bone joinery.”
“Very good.” Beaming, he pet the bone. He had the feeling if things continued this way, his project would turn out wonderfully. “But I could use a femur from a three-foot-eleven man…” He could finish the project without one—it just wouldn’t be quite as aesthetically pleasing.
Normally he might have overlooked such shortcomings, but this was a present for his master, whom he loved and revered devoutly. He had to give his all.
“If only someone like that happened to be nearby…”
He cheerfully set to work again.
Actually, Demiurge enjoyed making things like this. Not bone work, but carpentry-like activities. His hobby covered a wide range of projects, from small crafts to furniture, and his skill had surpassed that of any typical hobbyist. In fact, the quality of the piece he was working on now would blow anyone away, if they were able to ignore the building material.
Really, a person would react with awe upon seeing any of the things in Demiurge’s tent: The bronze statue of his master made so they could pour lava into it, various types of chairs, a vise—these were all things Demiurge had created. They were made for practical use, and therefore unadorned, but they had all turned out splendidly.
As he picked up another piece of material from the corner of the tent to carefully consider, he sensed movement at the entrance.
He quietly replaced the bone, gripping the irreplaceable item he’d received from his master, and focused on the newcomer. Under usual circumstances, he would have assumed it was one of his minions or a colleague—it was impossible for anyone to penetrate his triple-defense system without his noticing—but he couldn’t afford to leave any openings when they were up against the enemy who had mind controlled Shalltear.
The one to open the flap and enter the tent a few seconds later was wearing a white outfit and a mask with a long nose like a pitch-black bird beak—Pulcinella. He was a clown created by the Supreme Beings and assigned to assist Demiurge on his current job.
After checking to make sure the servant hadn’t been mind controlled, Demiurge relaxed his focus, and the hand gripping his item slackened.
“Master Demiurge, I’ve finished skinning them.”
At those words, he felt just a tiny bit of disappointment. Normally that would be the kind of work he’d relish himself, but they were on guard against an unknown enemy, so he couldn’t really leave his post. Thus such enjoyable work had fallen to Pulcinella. Without letting those feelings show now, he gave a new order. “Good work. On to the next step. It would be rude to hand them over to Lord Ainz in their current state.” The clown gave an elegant bow, and Demiurge asked, “And how many died?”
“Thanks to the tortures, none. They just lost consciousness. It seems like we’ll be able to skin them again almost immediately. Some are refusing healing magic, but…the number is around what we expected, so it’s not a problem.”
“That’s wonderful.”
It was taking quite a lot of effort to find materials. If they couldn’t flay each one more than once, the work would never be worth it. That didn’t mean they had any intention of taking away the pain or putting them to sleep, though.
“
I want to make everyone happy.”
At this sudden declaration, Demiurge recalled Pulcinella’s personality. Pulcinella was known throughout Nazarick as particularly gentle and compassionate. Since he was created to bring happiness to everyone, his behavior always reflected that.
“The beings in the Great Tomb of Nazarick are all happy because we are able to serve Lord Ainz.”
Demiurge nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Indeed. Then let me ask you this, Pulcinella. Are outsiders also happy to serve Nazarick?”
“No, they are most definitely not. Certainly, getting to serve Lord Ainz is cause for gladness. One might choke on tears of joy. But if one is forced to serve, that is not happiness.”
“Oh-ho! Then whatever should we do about that?”
“That’s simple. We choose one and cut off his arm. Then the others compare themselves to him and understand that they are happy. What a wonderful thing. Then to make the one with the missing arm happy, we just cut off someone else’s leg. Ohhh, I am making so many people happy!”
Demiurge gave a satisfied nod as Pulcinella leaned his head back and cackled. “Indeed. You are quite correct.”
2
Time spent idly waiting normally drags on and on, but before a deadline for preparations, it always goes by surprisingly fast.
And so, the appointed time had arrived.
That day, the sun climbed agonizingly slowly into a clear blue sky. The wind carried not a single sound, and the world was wrapped in a silence so deep it was painful.
The air was so tense a pinprick would pop it.
Someone swallowed hard; someone else was breathing raggedly.
How much time had passed since the gathered lizardmen had stopped talking?
Suddenly a single black cloud appeared, like a hole in the heavens. Just like last time, it spread out to cover the blue sky.
The Lizardman Heroes Page 11