The Caster of Destruction

by Kugane Maruyama

  “No, if you hadn’t handled that human the way you did, we wouldn’t have been able to guess.”

  “It’s just as Demiurge says. To see ahead so far into the unknown…it’s just what you would expect from the leader of the Supreme Beings. I’ve fallen for you more than ever before.”

  “Brilliant as always, Lord Ainz. To think you could outsmart the greatest intellect of Nazarick, Demiurge.”

  “For real! You’re awesome, Lord Ainz!”

  “Yeah! You’re awesome!”

  “I KNEW YOUR ABILITIES WERE EXTRAORDINARY, LORD AINZ, BUT I DIDN’T REALIZE JUST HOW EXTRAORDINARY… YOU ARE TRULY NAZARICK’S GREAT TREASURE.”

  “Indubitably. You are so compassionate and wise. There can be no greater ruler than you, Lord Ainz.”

  “…Ahh…”

  “Oh, that reminds me—there’s something we need to decide. I have absolutely no objection to Lord Ainz being a king, but if he’s only a king, then he’d be no different from any of those worms out there, right? I think we need to decide a more suitable title for Lord Ainz.”

  The guardians unanimously approved Demiurge’s idea.

  “What do you think, Lord Ainz?”

  “I have no objections. Do as you like.”

  Really, he felt like King Ainz Ooal Gown was fine. With King attached, there was a palpable increase in his status, to the point where his mental state was forcibly stabilized several times.

  “Then does anyone have any suggestions?”

  “I do.” Shalltear raised her hand. “I think we should pay tribute to Lord Ainz’s beauty and call him ‘the Gorgeous King.’”

  The guardians oohed in appreciation.

  Gorgeous King Ainz Ooal Gown?

  “Now me!” Aura raised her hand next. “I think we should emphasize Lord Ainz’s strength! So ‘Power King,’ meaning a king who’s powerful, seems good to me!”

  Several voiced their understanding at last.

  Power King Ainz Ooal Gown?

  “U-umm, can I suggest one, too? Uh, Lord Ainz is nice, so I think we should make sure everyone knows that. U-umm, s-so what about something like maybe, uh, ‘the Affectionate King’?”

  The guardians all nodded.

  Affectionate King Ainz Ooal Gown?

  “I humbly submit”—Demiurge paused, probably for dramatic effect—“that we pay tribute to Lord Ainz’s sublime mind and call him ‘the Wise King.’”

  The guardians all seemed to find that acceptable.

  Wise King Ainz Ooal Gown? Sorry, anything but that, please…

  “How about you, Sebas?”

  In response to Albedo’s question, Sebas said, “I was thinking that just plain ‘King’ would be fine.”

  “Then it’s my turn, right? Since he is the loftiest of all the Supreme Beings, I think ‘Supreme King’ would be good.”

  Admiring gasps went up from the group of guardians.

  Supreme King Ainz Ooal Gown? All the proposals are pretty…unique.

  All eyes turned to the one guardian who hadn’t commented yet.

  “How about you, Cocytus? I realize it’s hard to follow up my suggestion of ‘Supreme King,’ but do you have anything that would be a good fit for Lord Ainz?”

  “…HMM. LORD AINZ WILL LIKELY GO ON TO SUBJUGATE MANY CREATURES BY WAY OF HIS SUPREME MAGICAL ABILITY. THEREFORE, I BELIEVE HE SHOULD BE KNOWN AS THE ONE WHO RULES OVER THE CREATURES OF DARKNESS AND MAGIC ITSELF—‘THE KING OF DARKNESS.’”

  The guardians didn’t react immediately.

  But everyone looked at Ainz. In their eyes, he saw silent agreement—they all thought there was no greater title for him than this. Albedo seemed a tiny bit disappointed, but even so—

  “Very good. I’ll take Cocytus’s suggestion.”

  Ainz slowly rose from his seat.

  “Once my kingdom is established, I will be known as the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown!”

  He waved off their shower of applause, feeling embarrassed. But it was true that he was a bit tickled.

  “All right! When the time comes for the kingdom and the empire to fight, the moment for Nazarick to show them its might will be at hand!”

  “Quite right, Lord Ainz. They will try to investigate your powers, but they won’t even know that it’s part of our plan.”

  Demiurge continued, seeming very pleased.

  “Before negotiating, it’s important to give them one good blow to make them understand the power disparity. When the creatures known as fools don’t fully grasp the strength of their enemy, they tend to behave stupidly. In that sense, that emperor is a fool; he didn’t realize that the smartest thing for him to do was to bow his head and lick Lord Ainz’s boots.”

  “I was wondering about that. Wouldn’t allowing humans to lick Lord Ainz’s boots be a reward?”

  “Ohh, that’s an Albedo question if I ever heard one. But I’d rather lick his body.”

  Ainz pretended he couldn’t hear Albedo and Shalltear whispering.

  “…Very well, everyone. Prepare to increase the renown of Nazarick even further!”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  The chorus of acknowledgments echoed throughout the room.

  Chapter 2 | Preparations for the Battle

  1

  One month later…

  The court was meeting at Valencia Palace in the Re-Estize Kingdom. Gazef stood at attention beside King Ramposa III, who was seated on his throne. The captain of the Royal Select spotted the six great nobles among the many in attendance, and his eyes widened.

  It was quite rare for all of them to appear at once.

  The heads of those six noble houses possessed territory that was second only to the royal family’s holdings in size, and each had some field—whether it was military might, financial assets, or something else—in which they surpassed the king. Consequently, when the king summoned them, they often made up some sort of excuse to be absent. In particular, Marquis Beauleurope, the leader of the anti-king faction, never bothered to hide his disdain, and for a time it seemed as though the kingdom might collapse from within.

  Next, Gazef’s gaze turned to the three royal children who were present.

  The most eye-catching was the youngest, Princess Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself.

  Then came the second prince, who had distinguished himself by working with the king for the people during the demon disturbance, Zanac Valléon Igana Ryle Vaiself.

  Last was the eldest, Prince Barbro Andréan Yeld Ryle Vaiself, with his magnificent physique and neatly arranged hair. Marquis Beauleurope was working to make sure this prince would be the next king. He was probably attending the meeting at his request.

  With Beauleurope of the nobles’ faction present, the discussion was sure to get stormy. To take his mind off the bleak worry he felt, Gazef observed the other gathering great nobles.

  Of the three nobles who stood in the king’s faction, the one who caught Gazef’s eye first was the one wearing the most luxurious clothes out of anyone in the court, Marquis Blumrush.

  He was nearing forty years of age. The fairly good-looking noble’s domain held both gold and mythril mines, and the precious metals they produced were enough to provide their owner with the greatest financial power in the kingdom. But rumor said he was extremely greedy, willing to betray even his family for a single gold coin.

  In truth, Gazef had heard that he was betraying the kingdom and leaking information to the empire. The only reason such a character was allowed to go unchecked was because, essentially, they couldn’t produce any definitive evidence of wrongdoing. If they beheaded Blumrush, a member of the king’s faction, without proof, the nobles under him would undoubtedly turn against the king. If he was taking advantage of that fact to sell intelligence to the empire, it wasn’t a stretch to call him a truly terrible human being.

  Next, Gazef’s eyes moved to the most youthful of the great nobles, the handsome Marquis Pespea.

  He had taken the king’s eldest daughter as his wife and succeed
ed his father upon marrying. His ability and personality were still relatively unknown, but his father had been exceptional in both areas, so Gazef felt that young Pespea would eventually grow to be similar.

  Meanwhile, the eldest of the six great nobles was Margrave Urovana. His hair was already completely white, and since he didn’t have much left, it looked like he had almost none at all. His arms and trunk were like withered branches, but he undoubtedly still possessed the dignity of someone who had many years of experience.

  Margrave Urovana was the most fascinating of the nobles, as a person.

  Standing next to those three were the attendees from the nobles’ faction.

  First was the central figure of their faction, Marquis Beauleurope, who had the most land of any noble. He had numerous scars on his face and was a leader like a warrior. Since he was now in his fifties, his robust body, once trained to eliminate any weakness, was nothing more than a memory of past glory, but the life in his voice and his raptor-like eyes were vestiges of the warrior in him. He was losing against old age as a fighter, but as a commander, he was probably more talented than Gazef, making him a man of unmatched caliber within the kingdom.

  Next to him was Count Litton.

  The fox-like man was a whole notch less impressive compared to the other great nobles, so he was always trying to increase his worth in haphazard ways. If he could expand his own power, the suffering of others didn’t concern him, which gave him a rather poor reputation among the other nobles. That was why he attached himself to Marquis Beauleurope—to escape the hostility of his peers.

  The last was a man who currently belonged to the nobles’ faction. His blond hair was slicked back, and he had blue almond-shaped eyes. His complexion was a special pallor reserved for those who rarely saw the light of day. That combined with his tall, lean figure gave him the impression of a snake. Age-wise he should have been just under forty, but his sickly skin tone made him seem far older.

  Gazef had mixed feelings about that man—Marquis Raeven; he looked away from the noble.

  What made the power struggle in the palace even more complicated was the matter of who would be the next king.

  Marquis Beauleurope and Count Litton from the nobles’ faction and Margrave Urovana from the king’s faction nominated the eldest prince, Barbro, while many, regardless of faction, backed Marquis Pespea, husband of the king’s eldest daughter. Marquis Raeven supported the second prince, Zanac. Meanwhile, Marquis Blumrush acted as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him.

  This situation was the reason the king was still keeping the throne warm. He suspected that if he named a successor as things stood, a civil war might break out.

  Up until recently, Gazef thought it wouldn’t make a difference who became king, but now he personally supported Prince Zanac. Alternatively, he would have accepted the third princess, Renner, though it was a long shot. The kingdom had never been ruled by a queen, so it was probably impossible.

  “All right, let us begin.”

  The king’s tone of voice was just a touch different from the usual. Those with sharp ears had surely already guessed the reason they had been gathered. Those who hadn’t caught on earlier assumed serious expressions when they sensed the slight change in atmosphere.

  “A herald came from the empire. Read the declaration he brought us.”

  In response to the king’s order, the chamberlain standing by next to him read the parchment. Essentially, it read as follows:

  The Baharuth Empire recognizes Nazarick, the organization led by the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown, as a country, and the two nations have formed an alliance.

  E-Rantel and its environs originally belonged to the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown, and the Re-Estize Kingdom is unjustly occupying the land. It must be returned to its rightful owner.

  If you do not comply, the empire will assist the King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown, in his invasion of the kingdom to reclaim his territory.

  This is an act of justice to liberate the land from wrongful rule.

  The message was just so absurd. Complying could only be deemed insanity.

  “We did look back through the history of the kingdom, but there is no record of an Ainz Ooal Gown occupying the E-Rantel area, so this claim is naturally invalid.”

  “Then it’s just some nutcase’s nonsense—not even a real accusation,” a stirring voice barked.

  As if they took courage from Marquis Beauleurope, who had a history of military achievements, other nobles began to agree.

  “The timing slipped quite a bit, but isn’t this just the empire’s annual invasion? They always come up with some excuse. Maybe this time, they simply couldn’t think of anything, so they dragged out that caster’s name. ‘The King of Darkness’ is quite a title… I’d like to get a look at this guy!”

  Some chuckles went up in response to Count Litton’s comments. It had originated among his followers.

  “However”—the count shifted his narrowed eyes, which could be described only as fox-like, turning his gaze on Gazef with a hint of condescension—“I feel like I’ve heard this madman’s name somewhere before. Am I wrong, Captain Stronoff?”

  “…It’s the name of the caster who rescued me on the outskirts of E-Rantel when I was there.”

  Count Litton broke into a sinister smile and said in an icy voice, “I see, so he must have saved you because he thought you were one of his people.”

  Nobles here and there suppressed their laughter. No one admonished the slight. Gazef was born a commoner, so most of the nobles’ faction hated him.

  The king might have spoken up if the insult had originated from someone in his faction, but as Count Litton was from the opposing faction, he could only furrow his brow.

  “…Don’t you think, then, that it was the empire that burned the farming villages near E-Rantel? It seems like you thought it was the Theocracy, Captain. And the one who rescued you was Gown, right? Couldn’t he have been in cahoots with the empire? As someone suggested before, perhaps he was meant to be a spy all along? You didn’t see the corpses of the ones who had cornered you, correct?”

  The powerful members of the six scriptures flashed through Gazef’s mind. At the same time, he saw Ainz Ooal Gown.

  “…Regarding the corpses, it’s as you say, Count Litton, but I don’t think there’s any conspiracy. The ones who attacked when I was in Carne were stronger than imperial knights could be. They were giving orders to angels, so I have no doubt they were from the Slane Theocracy.”

  “Why would the Theocracy do such a thing?”

  How should I know?

  It would have been such a relief to be able to answer.

  As Gazef struggled to come up with a reply, help came from someone next to Count Litton.

  “Who cares about the crazy caster? Don’t we need to figure out how to reply to the false emperor’s declaration, Your Majesty?”

  “Marquis Beauleurope is right. What we need to decide is the kingdom’s response.”

  “Permission to speak, please.” Marquis Pespea stepped forward slightly. “It’s impossible to accept the emperor’s declaration. It seems war is our only choice.”

  The nobles became enthusiastic.

  “Ooh, so we’ll drive them off, and then it’ll be our turn to march into their country!”

  “Exactly. I’m sick of doing nothing but repelling the empire’s advances.”

  “There can be no doubt. You’re quite right, Marquis.”

  Their voices mixed with laughter. Everything they said was true, but it was also what they always said.

  For the past several years, there had been a regularly occurring war with the empire on the Katze Plain.

  In the end, the same scuffle, which always ended with the two countries merely glaring at each other or the kingdom taking a little damage, would happen as usual. That was the sort of relaxed idea that circulated among the nobles—they were used to the fighting.

  But— Gazef’s warrior instinct scre
amed that he should speak.

  “Don’t assume that this war will stop at a dustup like before!”

  The nobles looked accusingly at him, as if he’d ruined their fun.

  “I see. So that’s what my captain of the Royal Select thinks. Please explain why.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. It’s…” Gazef’s alarm bells were ringing because of a certain person. “It’s because of the caster, Ainz Ooal Gown.”

  “Ah. And you’re the only one of us who has stood face-to-face with him, so I imagine we should give your opinion some weight. But what basis do you have for thinking that?”

  Gazef was lost for words. He didn’t have a good answer. It was simply…what his warrior intuition was telling him—that making a poor judgment about this war was dangerous.

  “My king… Couldn’t we give E-Rantel to the empire—no, to the caster?”

  After a moment of silence, the insults started flying.

  “Are you a coward?! For shame!”

  It was the king’s faction shouting him down.

  “You’re so indebted to His Royal Majesty, yet you would surrender his territory? Since when is that imitation emperor your master?! What’s more, you haven’t even answered His Majesty’s question!”

  Of course, Gazef could say nothing in response to those jeers; he would have thought the same were their positions reversed.

  “That’s enough.”

  It was the king who gave him a hand.

  “But Your Majesty!”

  “You’re angry for my sake, and for that I’m grateful. But I would like you to remember that our captain is not the sort of man who would betray me. He has thrown himself into danger for me many times before. I can’t believe he would propose something that would work to my disadvantage.”

  The nobles who had shouted at Gazef bowed their heads to the king. Then the king continued, addressing Gazef.

  “Captain, you’re my right-hand man, and I trust you. But I can’t do that, even if it’s your suggestion. Handing over territory without a fight isn’t something a ruler can do. Besides, it would be unforgivable to do that to the people who live in the area. It would break the people’s peace.”