The Dark Warrior

by Kugane Maruyama

  “Hmph.” The expressions of the adventurers in the vicinity grew hostile to match the receptionist’s. Here was a newbie mocking the rules they’d all diligently followed. It’s only natural for them to be upset, he thought. It didn’t particularly bother the undead Ainz, but the vestige of office worker Satoru Suzuki inside him was bowing apologies with all his might.

  What Satoru Suzuki hated were people who turned down proposals without listening to explanation—and without even bothering to suggest an alternative—and whiners with no common sense. Ainz was currently a textbook example of the latter—those eminently punchable jerks.

  But he wasn’t going to back down so easily. Really, he’d meant to, but he needed to push things to a certain point first, so he played his trump card.

  “The woman behind me, Nabe, is with me. She can use tier-three magic.”

  The air buzzed, and all at once Narberal became the target for amazed stares. In this world, tier three was the level of an accomplished caster. Was it true or false? Everyone was wavering between the two answers and looking back at Ainz’s full plate armor. Adventurers acquired better gear as they ranked up. Nothing was more convincing than the fact that this guy who was probably Nabe’s friend had such fancy armor.

  Seeing the change in everyone’s eyes, he gave himself a round of applause in his mind and played another card. “And of course I’m a warrior just as strong as she is. That job will be no problem for us, I assure you.”

  Everyone’s reaction was a bit subdued compared to his first revelation, but he could see that they saw him in a different light now.

  “I didn’t become an adventurer to do odd jobs for a handful of coppers. We want to take on higher-level assignments. If you want to see what we can do, we’d be happy to demonstrate, so can’t we take that job?”

  The hostility from earlier was rapidly dissipating. The atmosphere was one of Ah yeah or I know the feeling. For this rough bunch who valued an adventurer’s strength above all, what he was saying made sense.

  But the receptionist was not so understanding. “…I’m sorry, but rules are rules.”

  Ainz did a mental victory pose in response to her apologetic bow. “I see—there’s nothing I can do, then. Sorry to have been so presumptuous.” He bobbed his head. “In that case, please give me the most difficult thing you have for a copper plate. Maybe something not posted to the board yet?”

  “Uh…yes, sir.”

  Just as the receptionist stood up and Ainz was about to cry mental tears of joy at his victory, a man’s voice called out, “If it’s a challenge you’re after, how about helping us out on our job?”

  “Huh?” Ainz let some intimidating irritation slip into his voice. He looked up to try to gloss that over and saw four adventurers, silver plates gleaming in the light. But I finally had things going my way, he grumbled in his head as he turned to face them.

  “Is the job…worthwhile?”

  “Well, hmm, I think it’ll be what you make of it,” a man who seemed like the leader of the group replied. He was a warrior type wearing banded mail, a type of armor where thin bands of metal covered layers of chain mail and leather.

  Should I go with this guy on his job? Of course, I can decide after I hear what it is, but I’m not sure if the receptionist will pick a job for me next time. But if I take this job, I can network a bit and maybe even get some info.

  His indecision lasted several seconds.

  Then he slowly nodded. “That’s exactly the kind of job I’m looking for. Allow me to join you. But do you mind telling me what kind of job it is?”

  At this reply, the men had the receptionist prepare them a room.

  It was basically a conference room. There was a table in the center with chairs placed around it. The four men seated themselves on the far side.

  “Okay, have a seat right there, please.”

  Ainz did as he was told and sat in one of the chairs. Narberal sat noiselessly beside him.

  The men were young—none of them seemed more than twenty—but they didn’t look green. They seemed more composed than one would expect of people their age. They were relaxed, but they had sat down with space between them so they could take up arms at a moment’s notice. They’d done so unconsciously, so it must have been a habit that stuck with them from many life-or-death battles.

  “Okay, before we talk business, let’s introduce ourselves.” The warrior-type man from before spoke up as their representative. He had the typical blond-haired, blue-eyed look of kingdom people, and although there was nothing about his features that made him stand out, he was still handsome. “Nice to meet you. I’m the leader of the Swords of Darkness, Peter Mauk. Over there is the eyes and ears of our team, ranger Lukrut Volve.”

  A blond man in leather armor bobbed his head. There was a jokey tenderness in his brown eyes. Overall he was slim with especially long arms and legs, almost bringing to mind a spider. It was clear, however, that his thin frame was the result of trimming away any excess.

  “And this is the brains of our team, a caster, Ninya the Spell Master.”

  “Looking forward to working with you.”

  He was probably the youngest of the group. He had blue eyes and brown hair, and a smile too youthful to belong to an adult spread across his face as he bowed. Compared to the other members of the group, who were rather suntanned, he had pale skin. He was also the most attractive of the bunch. It wasn’t so much a masculine beauty as androgynous. His voice was also a bit high for a man’s.

  Although his smile didn’t seem insincere, there was something about it that made it seem pasted on like a mask.

  And though the other members all wore armor, he was just wearing some leather clothes. Instead, a number of curious objects could be seen hanging from his belt in the shadow of the table—strangely shaped vials, odd bits of woodwork. If he was called the Spell Master, he was probably a magical-type magic user, like Ainz.

  “Peter, can you stop calling me that? It’s embarrassing.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “He has a nickname, huh?”

  Lukrut hopped in to provide an explanation, since Ainz didn’t seem to know what it really referred to. “He has a talent, you see! This kid’s a famous casting genius!”

  “Oh?” Ainz reacted. They’d gone through three of their Sunlit Scripture captives to get information about talents—powers people were born with. He was delighted to have an example of one in front of him.

  Narberal, on the other hand, snorted a scoff; Ainz was relieved no one else seemed to hear it. Feeling like a manager whose report had done something strange on a client visit, he got angry for just a second before regaining his composure, since it wouldn’t help things if they made a scene.

  “It’s not such a big deal. It’s just that the talent I was born with happened to be that type.”

  “Oh-ho.” Ainz was even more interested and leaned in with ears pricked up.

  Talents, like martial arts, did not exist in Yggdrasil—they were specific to this world. About one in every two hundred people was born with one, so having a power itself was not so rare, but there was an infinite variety of them, spanning the continuum from weak to strong. They ranged from things like predicting the next day’s weather with 70 percent accuracy to being able to speed up the harvest times of Poaceae family grains by a couple days to summoning stronger monsters or being able to use the magic of the dragons who once ruled the world.

  However, the type of power was fixed upon birth; it was not possible to change or select powers later in life. That meant there were lots of times talents didn’t match the natures of their holders. For example, if someone were born with the talent to boost the destructive power of spells but didn’t have the knack or physical strength to become a caster, the talent would go to waste.

  If a talent did match a person’s nature, they just considered themselves lucky—with the exception of some truly major powers, having a talent didn’t generally determine the entir
e course of one’s life. The fact that a warrior like Gazeff Stronoff wasn’t a talent holder illustrated that well enough.

  Even so, there was a tendency for people with talents useful in combat to slide easily into the adventuring occupation, so there were many adventurers with talents. Among them, Ninya was a fine specimen of the fortunate variety where the talent matched the holder very well.

  “Didn’t it take you like four years with your magic aptitude or whatever to master what took others eight years? I mean, I’m not a caster, so I don’t have much of a sense of how awesome that really is, but…”

  As a magic user, Ainz was curious, but he was also motivated by the Gimme that greed of a collector. If he could acquire a power no one in the Great Tomb of Nazarick had, it would surely make their organization stronger. If there was a way to steal the ability, it might be worth the risk of making enemies to do it.

  Assuming there was a way, it would probably be the super-tier spell Wish Upon a Star.

  Ninya didn’t realize that Ainz was thinking such things under his helmet and looking at him as if he were sizing up his prey, and the two continued their conversation.

  “It was really lucky that I was born with this power. It helped me take the first step toward making my dreams come true. If I didn’t have my power, I’d have ended up some crummy villager.” His mumbling voice was gloomy.

  Attempting to brighten things up, Peter spoke in a tone that was, of course, the exact opposite. “Anyhow, he’s a famous talent holder in the city.”

  “Still, there’s someone way more famous than me.”

  “The leader of the Blue Roses?”

  “The leader of the Blue Roses is famous, too, but I mean someone in this city.”

  The last member of the team, whose name Ainz hadn’t heard yet, mentioned someone in a loud voice. “He means Mr. Baleare!”

  His curiosity piqued, Ainz asked, “What kind of talent does he have?”

  Everyone looked surprised. Apparently this was something anyone would know. Ainz had been so eager for info and so focused on improving Nazarick’s position that he’d let his guard down. It was unfortunate, but he was confident he could bounce back from this minor of a mistake. But before he could even make an excuse, they seemed to have reached their own conclusion.

  “I see! So the fact that we hadn’t ever heard of you despite your magnificent armor and that companion so beautiful she’d be the talk of the town means you’re not from around here?”

  Ainz took the timely cue. “That’s exactly right. We just arrived yesterday.”

  “Ah, then you wouldn’t know, huh? He’s quite famous here, but I guess word of him hasn’t spread to other cities.”

  “No, it doesn’t seem like it; I’ve never heard of him. Do you mind telling me?”

  “His name is Nfirea Baleare. He’s the grandson of a well-known apothecary, and his talent is the power to use any and every magic item. He can use scrolls from different magic types, which you usually can’t do, and he can even use items that only nonhumans are supposed to be able to use. I’ll bet he can even use items that require the user to have royal blood.”

  “…Hmm…” Ainz took pains to not let his wariness show in his voice.

  How far does this talent go? Could he use items that with few exceptions only guild masters can use, like the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown? World Items, too? Or is there some limit?

  That was someone to keep an eye on. Of course, he might also make a valuable pawn.

  Narberal must have had the same take. She brought her mouth near where she seemed to have decided Ainz’s ears were under his helmet and whispered, “This guy could be dangerous,” her voice wary.

  “…I know. Coming to this city was the right move.”

  “Momon, is something wrong?”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing. More importantly, could I ask you to introduce the last member of your team?”

  “Sure. This is Dyne Woodwonder, a druid. He uses healing magic and magic that manipulates nature, and he also has a wealth of knowledge about medicinal herbs, so if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. He even has medicines for stomachaches and that kind of stuff.”

  “Looking forward to working with you!” The man whose messy beard and solid build combined to create a somewhat barbaric impression spoke in a dignified voice. That said, he was still younger than Ainz appeared to be. A faint grassy smell came from a pouch at his hip.

  “Okay, now it’s our turn, huh? This is Nabe and I’m Momon. Looking forward to working with you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Yes, we should make a good team. Momon, feel free to call us by our first names. Now, I don’t mean to hurry us along, but I’d like to get down to business. Not that it’s a real job per se…”

  “Uh…”

  In response to Ainz’s dubious interjection, Peter held up a hand entreating him to wait. “Our aim is to hunt the monsters that pop up near town.”

  “Subduing monsters…?” Ainz thought that fell pretty squarely under the work umbrella. Or is there some reasons adventurers don’t consider it work? he almost wanted to ask, but if it turned out to be basic common sense, it would seem like he didn’t know anything, and that would be bad. Instead, he chose a more benign subject to ask about. “What are the monsters called?”

  “Oh no, not like that—I wonder what they call it in your country—where you hunt monsters and get rewarded by the city via the guild based on how strong the monsters you got were. That thing.”

  Aha. Ainz understood now. Putting Peter’s work that wasn’t work into Yggdrasil and similar game terms, they would grind monsters for drops.

  “If you want to make a living, it has to be done,” the druid, Dyne, solemnly noted.

  Then Lukrut chimed in, “We get to eat. Things are less dangerous for other people. Merchants can travel safely. The country can collect their taxes. Nobody loses!”

  “Nowadays, any country with guilds has this system, but it’s surprising because even just five years ago it wasn’t like that,” Ninya said, and everyone nodded nostalgically. They practically forgot about Ainz and started going off on various tangents. He couldn’t participate in the conversation at all. It would be too suspicious if he knew nothing about the country he was in, so he decided to just listen silently.

  “Long live the Golden Princess, right?”

  “The proposal ran into some setbacks, but I heard she was motioning to get rid of the foot tax for adventurers, too.”

  “Whoa. It’s amazing that she thought so highly of us.”

  “Right? She did all that even though we’re armed groups that haven’t proven our loyalty to the kingdom. Depending on the team, some might even be enemies! Not even the empire is that tolerant.”

  “That princess really does have some wonderful ideas…even though they mostly get shot down.”

  “I hope I get to marry a lady that gorgeous!”

  “You got a lotta work to do if you’re hoping to join the ranks of the nobles!”

  “No—no way, no way. That stiff, formal life ain’t for me.”

  “Oh, c’mon, it’d be great to be a noble! It’s established by the country that you get to screw over the people and do whatever you want!”

  The true feelings behind Ninya’s smile were beginning to show. Ainz knit his nonexistent brow under his helmet, but Narberal was unfazed.

  Lukrut called out in a purposely lighthearted voice, “Yikes! Always with the harsh words! You hate the nobles as usual, huh?”

  “I know that some of them are honest people, but…as someone whose older sister was abducted by those pigs, I just can’t…”

  “Well, this conversation has taken an unexpected turn! We probably don’t need to discuss this sort of thing in front of Momon and Nabe!”

  On board with Dyne’s course correction, Peter cleared his throat rather deliberately and continued his explanation, “Well, so that’s about it. We’ll be on the lookout for monsters in this area. This close
to civilization there probably won’t be anything too strong… I hope that doesn’t bother you, Momon?”

  Peter took out a sheet of parchment and opened it across the middle of the table. It seemed to be a rough map of the area, with groves and forests, rivers, and other features indicated.

  “Our basic plan is to head south and hunt around here.” He started from the middle of the parchment and traced down with his finger to an area near a forest in the south. “We’ll mainly be fighting monsters that come out of the forest on the Slane Theocracy border. The only monsters that are likely to use weapons or launch an attack on someone with an escort are goblins at the nastiest.”

  “Yeah, they’re weak, though, so even if we take ’em out the pay is peanuts.”

  Ainz wondered a bit about their relaxed attitude. The goblins he’d known in Yggdrasil all had various names and had been anywhere from level 1 to 50—it wasn’t possible to lump them all together like that. If they weren’t careful, they could find themselves in trouble.

  Are they so laid-back because they’re sure high-level goblins won’t show up around here? Or is it because in this world goblins just aren’t so tough?

  “…There aren’t any strong goblins?”

  “Yes, there are. But they don’t hide out in the forest we’re headed to. The strong goblins are the ones who lead tribes. I can’t imagine they’d have their whole tribe attack.”

  “Goblins are also aware how far the humans’ sphere of influence extends. They know how much of a pain a huge invasion would be, especially the stronger, more clever, elite types.

  “Plus, if Nabe can use tier-three magic, then even the more elite types will be a piece of cake.”

  “I see. I just want you to be aware, though, that there are some goblins who can use tier-three magic, too. Just for reference, would you mind telling me the names of the monsters we are likely to encounter?”

  All the Swords of Darkness members looked immediately at Ninya, who assumed a professorial expression and began his explanation. “The monsters we often encounter are goblins and their pet wolves. I have no records of encountering any other wild beasts that put up much of a fight in this area. On the plain, the most dangerous thing we could encounter would probably be an ogre.”