But it still wasn’t enough. Every time he learned something, the things he needed to know multiplied. That was especially the case with magic. He was surprised by how different things were in a world based on magic.
One thing that was especially affected was the level of civilization. It appeared to be something like the Middle Ages, when in fact it was probably closer to premodern or in some cases nearly modern. Supporting this level of technology was magic.
Once Ainz realized that, he gave up thinking too hard about the progress of technology. For someone who had lived in a world with scientific technology, it was impossible to think too deeply about this world with its entirely different system. They even had magic to produce spices like salt and sugar, as well as magic to return nutritive value to the soil to avoid damaging it by replanting the same crops over and over.
On top of that, he wasn’t sure if it was true or false, but he’d heard that the ocean wasn’t salty—that was how far this world departed from Ainz’s common sense.
How long had he been cautiously satisfying his curiosity when—?
“Something moved,” Lukrut announced abruptly with palpable tension in his voice. None of the silliness from the tone he used when talking to Narberal was present; this was the voice of an experienced pro adventurer. Everyone immediately readied their weapons in the direction Lukrut was looking.
“Where is it?”
“There. Right there.” Lukrut pointed in response to Peter’s question to a part of the giant forest. Since it was shaded by trees, it was difficult to see inside, and there was no sign of anything there. Even so, no one doubted him.
“It’d be pushing it to just rush in there, so unless it comes out of the woods, let’s ignore it.”
“Well, it’s probably smart to follow our plan and have Nfirea move back.”
While they were talking, the forest stirred and the monsters slowly came into view. There were fifteen small creatures about as tall as children. Surrounding them were six large ones.
The smaller ones were subhumans called goblins. They had flattened noses, and two little fangs stuck up out of their mouths, which seemed almost like big rips in their squashed faces. Their skin was light brown. Their messy, oily clumps of grimy hair were black. It was hard to tell if their raggedy dark brown clothing was dyed or just dirty. Over it, they wore animal hides in place of armor. Each carried a wooden club in one hand and a small shield in the other. They were like a cross between a human and a monkey, with a handful of viciousness on top.
Each of the fewer, larger monsters stood between around seven and a half to almost ten feet tall. With their jaws jutting way forward, their faces were imbecility incarnate. Their arms bulging with muscles brought to mind large trees, and their hands nearly reached the ground, although their stooped backs helped. They carried clubs that looked like they had ripped them straight off a tree and wore untanned animal skins around their waists. Their horrid stench seemed to waft all the way to where the adventurers were. Their warty skin was darkish brown and their pecs and abs were built. From the look of them, they seemed quite strong, and the overall impression they made was of big, hairless chimpanzees with a warped twist. These monsters were of the subhuman race known as ogres.
Almost all of them were carrying bags that looked to be made of rags. They must have been migrating some distance.
The monsters looked over the party of adventurers and then began stepping out onto the grass. They were still some distance away, but the hostile looks on their ugly faces could be read easily enough.
“…There are quite a lot of them, huh? We’re not going to be able to avoid a fight at this rate.”
“Yeah, goblins and ogres tend to go on the attack when they see they outnumber their opponents. Or rather, they’re too stupid to evaluate their opponent’s strength on anything besides numbers—what a pain.”
Ainz understood his situation, and things had definitely sunk in, but he still cocked his head slightly at how different from a game it felt. The goblins and ogres all had individualized features, whether it be their height or the darkness of their skin. In other words, they weren’t all identical. That made him feel like he was facing twenty-one unfamiliar monsters.
“Reality is no game,” he lamented in a voice the others couldn’t hear. He was seized by the feeling he used to get when hurtling into a new area without reading a strategy guide and clashing with monsters he’d never heard of; it reminded him of the things he’d realized during the battle of Carne.
“So, Momon.”
“…Oh, what is it?”
“We said we’d have you take half of them, so how would you like to divide them up?”
“We can’t just split into our two teams and kill them as they come?”
“That’ll get complicated if they all bunch up on one team. Nabe, is it possible for you to take out all the goblins at once with an area-of-effect spell like Fireball?”
“I can’t use Fireball. The spell I have with the most firepower is probably Lightning.”
So it’s that kind of setup, Ainz murmured in his head.
“Lightning pierces in a straight line, right?”
“In that case, if we managed to get them all lined up, could you shoot through them from the side?”
“We’d have to have someone preventing them from charging…”
“Oh, I’ll take care of that. But most importantly, Nfirea’s in the cart—can everyone else protect him?”
“Momon…?”
“I’d be all talk if I had trouble with a couple ogres. I’ll show you how easy it is to butcher these guys.”
The Swords of Darkness members understood what Ainz, in a voice brimming with confidence, was saying and were relieved that they felt they could trust him.
“Got it. That said, we shouldn’t be allowing the enemy to charge, either. We’ll back you up as much as we can.”
“Um, do you need any support magic?”
“Oh, we’re fine. You should support your teammates.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. Everyone, if we engage here, we’re close to the forest, so there’s a chance they’ll run away.”
“Then let’s do what we always do! We’ll draw them out just like yankin’ a turtle’s head out of its shell!”
“Oh, that’s a fine plan. So Momon is blocking the charge, but how should we deal with the ones who get by, Peter?”
“I’ll trap the ogres with the martial art Fortress. Dyne, you deal with any goblins that slip through. Ninya, cast defensive magic on me. After that, although it might not be necessary, pay attention to how Nabe is faring while you focus on using attack magic. Lukrut, pick off any goblins you can. If any ogres get by, get in their way. In that case, Ninya, prioritize cleaning up the goblins.” Everyone took Peter’s orders simply by exchanging firm nods. The battle plan was coming together quite smoothly. They were really on the same wavelength.
Impressed, Ainz couldn’t help but sigh. He remembered his days in Yggdrasil. He and his guildmates had also been on the same wavelength when they went out grinding together. Decoy, pull, block, select targets—the kind of team play that can only be done when all the members know one another’s abilities inside out.
Maybe Ainz was biased, but he didn’t think chemistry like that was so easy to create; that said, he caught a glimpse of it in the Swords of Darkness, even if they weren’t as in sync as his old friends.
“Momon, do you need any backup from us besides magic?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. We’re fine as the two of us.”
“You’re…really confident, huh?”
Ainz could sense some worry in Peter’s tone—Are you really going to be all right? If the block were easily broken, they were in danger of being wiped out one by one. He was uneasy about that.
They weren’t playing a game—lives would be taken.
“You’ll understand once we get started.” With that as his only response, Ainz cut the conversation short. “If your
team is ready to go, we can start the fight.”
Lukrut drew his composite longbow. The creaking of the bowstring stopped, and then came the bing of it slicing through the air. The loosed arrow flew straight across the grass and landed about ten yards from the goblins, who were on the move. They had put their shields up and were slowly closing the distance, but in response to Lukrut’s sudden attack, they jeered. They were laughing at him because he missed. Of course, they couldn’t hit a target more than 140 yards away, either, but they had conveniently forgotten that.
Then, the fact that they had been attacked and the overwhelming imbalance in respective numbers incited their inherent violence—so they all screamed and ran full speed, unthinking, toward Lukrut. The ogres also charged, after a short delay.
Having lost themselves in their thirst for blood, they had no formation and didn’t even take the defensive measure of keeping their shields up. There was nothing left inside their heads.
Noticing as much, Lukrut cracked a smile. “Heh.”
The distance separating them was about one hundred yards when he took his next shot. This one didn’t miss, but went through a goblin’s head. It was the one farthest to the rear; it tottered a few more steps forward before crumpling to the ground, dead.
The distance was closing before Lukrut’s eyes, but his hand nocking the next arrow showed no sign of nervousness; even if they got right on top of him, he knew he had a friend nearby who would protect him.
“Reinforce Armor!” With the sound of Ninya casting a defensive spell behind him, Lukrut loosed another arrow.
Another shot at sixty yards. Another pierced head, another goblin tumbling to the ground. Then Peter and Dyne started to move.
The goblins were nimble, but the ogres took larger steps, so there wasn’t much of a pace gap between the two groups. That said, they were running over about 110 yards of grass, so the ogres with their more powerful legs were out front and the goblins followed. Each group was spread out to some extent, making it difficult to capture very many of them in an area-of-effect spell.
But that was fine. Dyne’s first job was to trap an ogre.
“Twine Plant!” When he cast the spell, the grass under one ogre’s feet began to flail like a whip and twist around them. Restrained by plants tough as chains, the ogre began to get frustrated, and its roar resounded across the plain.
Into this scene at a leisurely pace walked Ainz, followed by Narberal. No one, looking at his gait, would imagine he was headed into a fight against charging monsters. It looked more like he was taking a stroll through the meadow than navigating a combat zone.
As the nearest ogre was getting closer, Ainz crossed his hands over opposite shoulders to clutch the hilts of his swords. Narberal put her hands under his cape to pull the sheaths off. Then the blades slowly appeared in two great, huge arcs.
Every one of the Swords of Darkness gasped at the dazzling spectacle.
The nearly five-foot swords Ainz gripped were so splendid they seemed like they might have more value as works of art than as weapons. The keen blades coldly gleamed, their tips spreading into fan shapes and their grooves engraved with a pattern resembling two intertwining snakes.
They were weapons a hero would wield, and Ainz had one in each hand. Seeing him like that caused all the Swords of Darkness to gasp again. If the previous gasp had been in admiration, this time they were knocked completely speechless.
Swords get heavier the longer they are—it was only natural. No matter what kind of spell was cast to lighten the load, swinging these around would have been no easy feat. After traveling with Ainz for a short time, they understood he was exceptionally strong, but the common sense they’d amassed up till then didn’t allow for the sight of him holding a great sword in each hand so comfortably.
But…
He swung them around into a fighting stance so easily they might have been twigs. He cut quite a majestic figure.
“Momon…you’re incredible…,” Peter gasped, representative of everyone’s shock. As a warrior himself, he’d just been instantly taught what kind of strength was possible, and it dawned on him how long he would have to train to achieve it. He’d had the vague notion that he and Ainz were on different levels, but having conclusive proof before his eyes gave him shivers that started in his toes.
Even goblins, with their lesser intelligence, seemed to realize they should be afraid. Their recklessly charging feet slowed, and they changed course to take a longer way around to Peter and the others. Only the ogres continued to barrel toward Ainz, too dim-witted to second-guess their strength.
As the distance closed, they raised their weapons. No matter how long Ainz’s swords were, the ogres were still huge and had better range with their equally huge clubs. It looked like the ogres would get the first attack, but then Ainz rushed at them.
He was like a hurricane. Then, in an even faster flash of silver, the sword in his right hand flew through the air as if it were cutting space itself.
The attack was too magnificent. Regardless of the fact that they hadn’t even been cut, everyone watching felt the sudden presence of death right beside them, so much so that every hair on their bodies stood on end.
It was over in that single swing.
Ainz targeted a new ogre, leaving the one in front of him. As if waiting for him to move away, the upper body of the now stock-still first ogre slipped to the ground, leaving the lower body standing. The spray of blood, slop of innards, and diffusion of an awful stench throughout the area were the signs that this was neither a dream nor an illusion.
He’d cut the monster in two with a single diagonal stroke.
Although they were in the middle of a battle, both friends and foes froze to observe the riveting scene as if time had stopped.
A deadly blow—and one that would slice a monster as meaty as an ogre in half.
A “whoa” escaped someone’s lips. The battlefield had fallen so silent that everyone heard it.
“…I can’t believe it. He must be a mythril plate or maybe orichalcum—no… Could he be adamantite?”
To cut an opponent in two—it wasn’t an impossible move, per se. Someone who trained up a very targeted set of skills or who had a powerful magical weapon could probably pull it off. But to hold a gigantic, two-handed great sword in one hand and give it enough momentum to cut someone in half would be difficult. That was common sense. A two-handed sword was used with two hands and relied on mass and centrifugal force to cut—they weren’t about slicing and dicing with physical strength.
So the only way to explain what Ainz had just done was to conclude that his sword was endowed with incomparable magic, that he had more strength in one arm than most warriors had in two, or both.
The ogres that had stopped in their tracks, shocked by the scene in front of them, began to backpedal with fear written on their faces. Ainz advanced one step to fill in the distance.
“What’s the matter? Not going to attack?” His quiet, casual voice floated over the battlefield.
Even just that question scared the ogres—because they’d just seen how overwhelming the gap in strength was between Ainz and them.
Ainz moved in on a second ogre so quickly it was hard to believe he was wearing full plate armor.
“Uooogh!” The ogre raised a hoarse voice in what could have been either a shriek or a battle cry as it readied its club against Ainz, but anyone would have recognized it was moving too slowly.
As Ainz closed in, the great sword in his left hand moved as if he were going to lightly brush the ogre away. Its upper body went tumbling through the air to land somewhere completely different from its lower body.
He’d cut the monster in two with a single horizontal slice.
“Momon… Are you a monster?”
Witnessing another riveting scene, nobody had any objections to what Dyne had said.
“Okay, and as for the rest…” Ainz stepped forward, and the other ogres, ugly faces frozen in fear, moved farther back.
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The goblins that had taken a large detour to the side got around and attacked Peter and the others. The Swords of Darkness had lost themselves in amazement but now had to spring into action.
Peter readied his broadsword and large shield and ran to meet the fourteen-plus goblins. The head of the one out in front went spinning off after a lunging swipe. Dodging the fountain of blood, Peter closed in on the rest of the goblins.
“Eat this!” A goblin bared its yellowed teeth as its foul, throaty scream filled the air. Peter easily took a goblin club strike with his shield. The hit that came from the side got blocked and repelled with a loud crack thanks to the magic reinforcing his armor.
“Magic Arrow!” Two glowing shots of magic nailed the goblin trying to hit Peter from behind, and it collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Half of the goblins surrounding Peter ran at the remaining three Swords of Darkness. None of them went to attack Narberal, who was standing next to the gale-force wind of death named Ainz.
Lukrut had tossed aside his composite longbow and whipped out a short sword. Both he and the mace-wielding Dyne dashed into Ninya’s line of fire to provide cover for him.
The fight between Lukrut and Dyne and five goblins was about evenly matched. If they paced themselves, they could probably beat them one by one, but it would take a while. Lukrut had taken a club to one arm and was tolerating the pain with an obvious grimace as he stabbed his short sword into a gap in a goblin’s leather armor. Dyne had taken a bit of a beating, and although his movements had become somewhat sluggish, it didn’t seem like any of his wounds were too critical.
Ninya, keeping a sharp eye on the situation, began to conserve magic. There was one ogre immobilized with a spell. If circumstances called for it, he would have to take it on.
Meanwhile, Peter was spending equal time on offense and defense against six goblins.
The eleven goblins’ violence didn’t overwhelm the adventurers, though, because there was hesitation in their attacks. Their morale had dropped significantly after witnessing Ainz’s amazing one-hit kills, and they hadn’t made up their minds yet if they should fight or flee.
The Dark Warrior Page 8