The sphere, like a hole in the sky, seemed almost like it was covered in a spiderweb, in that anyone who saw it found themselves unable to look away.
The black orb grew gradually larger.
They couldn’t think anything constructive like, Let’s run or Let’s fight.
They could only stare mutely, as if they had dementia.
Before long…the adequately ripened fruit fell.
In what seemed like the obvious outcome, the sphere popped when it touched the ground.
Like a water balloon bursting against the ground, like a ripe fruit rupturing.
The contents of the sphere radiated out from the point of impact. It was like coal tar—a sticky liquid spreading its pitch-blackness everywhere, reflecting no light at all. It began to conceal the dead kingdom soldiers.
Perhaps operating under some abnormal instinct, no one thought this was the end.
And more than that, they had the feeling it was only the beginning.
Yes—the beginning of despair.
From the earth coated in the black liquid grew a single tree.
No, it wasn’t anything so cute as a tree.
What once was one began to multiply. Two, three, five, ten…
Swaying where there was no wind, what had grown there were…tentacles.
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
All of a sudden, they heard something adorable, like a goat’s bleating. And it wasn’t just one. It was like a herd of goats had appeared out of nowhere.
As if drawn by the voices, the coal tar wriggled and then sprayed upward to reveal something.
It was too strange, too different.
It must have been over thirty feet tall. Counting the tentacles, it was hard to say.
Shapewise, it resembled a turnip. Instead of leaves, it had several writhing black tentacles, and the root part was a bumpy lump of flesh. From below that grew five goatlike black legs with hooves.
There were splits in the root part—the bumpy lump of flesh—that peeled back in flaps. And—
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
The adorable goat bleating issued from those fissures. The splits were mouths drooling a viscous black liquid.
There were five of these.
They had revealed their horrifying selves completely to all the humans on the Katze Plain.
The dark young…
They were monsters that emerged in proportion to the number of sacrifices collected by the super-tier spell Iä Shub-Niggurath. They didn’t have any powerful skills, but their stamina was a cut above normal.
And their level…was over 90.
In other words, it was a storm of atrocities.
There were no sounds besides the adorable—sickeningly cute—bleating. It was just that. Unable to believe what they were seeing, unable to accept it, no one tried to talk.
Over three hundred thousand people were gathered—although only two hundred and thirty-five thousand remained alive—and not a single one of them could make so much as a peep.
It was before this horrific spectacle that Ainz laughed.
“Wonderful. That’s a record. I’m sure no matter where or when you look, no one has ever summoned five at once before. This is truly awesome. I’ve got to give thanks to all those who died for me.”
Normally, summoning one dark young was great, and the rare feat of summoning two was practically impossible.
But this time he got five.
Just like how any gamer would enjoy setting a new record, Ainz was genuinely happy. He didn’t care at all about the tens of thousands who had just perished.
“But I think there should actually be more of them… Maybe five is the cap? But then that means I got the most possible, which is amazing!”
“Congratulations! Brilliant as usual, Lord Ainz.”
Ainz smiled beneath his mask in response to Mare’s praise.
“Thanks, Mare.”
Next, when Ainz looked at Nimble, the knight promptly celebrated him with a crying smile on his face. “C-congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Ainz replied in good spirits.
It tickled him that Nimble openly expressed how touched he was.
Ainz remembered the first time he had seen Iä Shub-Niggurath, back in his Yggdrasil player days, and how equally moving an experience it had been for him.
Over-the-top magic, overwhelming magic…it has the power to tug so many people’s heartstrings. No wonder, then, that this was such a popular spell in Yggdrasil. Albedo and Demiurge were both thrilled to hear I would be casting it.
A clattering noise began to echo throughout the imperial army’s position.
It was plates of armor rubbing on each other.
The soldiers were quivering. Who could laugh at something like this?
There wasn’t a single one of them who didn’t get goose bumps from the King of Darkness’s cheerful voice after he had just cast such a dreadful summoning spell.
All the knights had one thing on their minds.
May the power of Ainz Ooal Gown never descend upon me.
It resembled a prayer to a god.
As the soldiers’ wishes gathered on his back, Ainz shifted into the next phase. His spell had already achieved a satisfying effect, but he thought it would be worth it to double down on his attack, just in case.
His objective this time was to advertise the power of Ainz Ooal Gown to nearby countries via super-tier magic.
There was no doubt he had done just that. But it would be a waste to simply erase his creations.
Yes, a waste.
Ainz sneered.
If he had had a tongue, he probably would have licked his lips.
In Yggdrasil, this never would have been possible, the joy of summoning five dark young at once.
“Oh, let’s see what happens. Begin a follow-up attack, my precious young.”
Following the order from their summoner, the dark young slowly began to move.
They worked their five legs briskly, with strange motions. Rather than elegant, it was incredibly earnest, which might have had something heartwarming about it.
At least for someone they weren’t bearing down on.
Nimbly moving their large bodies, the five-legged dark young began to run and charged at the kingdom’s army.
“Oh, there are three people—no, four—whom you mustn’t kill. Do not harm them.”
Recalling the three people Demiurge had pled for, Ainz gave a mental—not that he had a brain—order to the dark young.
“This is a dream, right?” one of the kingdom soldiers murmured at the grotesque monsters in the distance.
But there was no answer. How could there have been? Everyone was transfixed by the scene unfolding before their eyes—they didn’t have the wherewithal to respond. It was like their souls had been spirited away.
“Hey, tell me it’s a dream. I’m dreaming, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a fantastically awful dream.”
The second time he asked, someone finally replied.
There was something escapist in his tone of voice.
This can’t be happening.
I can’t believe it.
Feelings like that had infested the troops.
The grotesque beings were growing steadily larger—closer—and the soldiers didn’t want to face reality.
If it were simply a couple of monsters, they probably could have mustered the courage to swing their weapons. But when those monsters appeared after a seventy thousand–man block of their army had been wiped out instantaneously, they couldn’t be written off as “a couple of monsters.” It was like facing a gigantic tornado heading straight for them—no one had the courage to stand and fight.
The strange, immense beings skillfully worked their stumpy legs, charging with quite some speed.
“Spearz ub!”
A voice rang out.
A noble was screaming in a weird octave. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had foam at the corners of his mouth.
“G-
ged yer spears ub! Iv you wanna survibe, raiz those spearz ub!”
He was so beside himself with fear that it was hard to understand what he was saying, but it was still possible to discern, “Get your spears up!”—and that that was the most appropriate order.
The soldiers promptly held up their weapons to form the thickets of blades.
By virtue of the butt end of the spears being fixed to the ground, the speed of any opponent who came charging would be turned into a weapon, and their bodies would be eviscerated.
It was a formation that would give even the empire’s knights trouble, but a rational corner of the soldiers’ minds wondered what meaning the flimsy spears in their hands could possibly have. But they also knew that this formation was their only chance.
It would be next to impossible to run away from these monsters that grew larger and larger as they approached with uncanny speed. If they ran, they would surely be trampled from behind by those huge hooves.
Stay away from me! was the soldiers’ fervent wish as they waited while the monsters charged.
With sickening quickness, the once tiny-seeming horrors grew larger and larger—closer and closer.
As they grew larger, and the ground began to shake, the soldiers’ hearts beat faster.
Eventually, when their hearts were pounding so hard they thought they might burst, the hulking monsters charged right up to them.
The scene resembled a dump truck slamming into a nest of mice.
On the kingdom side, countless spears were held at the ready in trembling hands. But what significance did that hold for the dark young who had such massive, robust bodies? The spears snapped easier than toothpicks, unable to do so much as scratch them.
The immense dark young dove in among the kingdom soldiers.
Innumerable broken spears flew through the air.
Though they trampled the resistance that couldn’t even really be considered resistance, the dark young were merciful—there was no pain.
The overwhelming charge left no opportunity to feel pain.
The soldiers holding spears didn’t even have time to notice the moment the giant bodies smashed their spears. All they were aware of was a dark shadow that blocked out their vision.
A scream went up, then another and another.
Scraps of flesh flew. It wasn’t one or two people. It wasn’t even dozens—it was over a hundred. Flattened under huge feet, batted away—no, obliterated—by waving tentacles.
Nobles, farmers—once they were transformed into scraps of flesh, none of that mattered. Whether they left behind families in their home villages, whether they left behind friends, even if they had no one waiting for them—once they turned into churned mush on the ground, none of that mattered.
Death was the great equalizer.
After the dark young trampled countless people under their giant feet, some might have thought it would end there, but they were wrong.
The dark young ran.
They didn’t stop in the middle of the kingdom’s army.
“Gyaaaaaaagh!”
“Blarrrrgh!”
“Make it stop!”
“Saaaaave meeeeee!”
“Nooooooo!”
“Waaaaagh!”
Every time those giant feet came down, another scream went up.
The sound of humans being crushed together under the dark young’s stout legs, the sound of bodies being annihilated with the irregular waving of their tentacles, just for fun…
They were sounds no one had ever heard in their life.
Overrun.
What other word could explain the scene so well?
Some soldiers frantically thrust their spears. The tips certainly did hit the dark young, who were so large and had no intention of evading. But those spears didn’t pierce their flesh at all. The monsters were like clods of thick rubber hide and steel muscle.
Without even sneering at the futile resistance, the dark young only advanced.
By the time the frantic soldiers realized that attacking would do nothing, the dark young had penetrated almost to the heart of the formation’s center.
“Withdraw! Withdraw now!”
It was a distant shriek. In response to that cry, all the humans took off running. They scattered like baby spiders. But the dark young were far faster.
Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.
Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.
Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.
Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.
Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat. Splat.
The humans were trampled to death, and all that could be heard was the sound of countless lumps of flesh being created.
Three monsters, cutting through the central forces as if they were crossing an empty field, were approaching the right wing, kicking up flesh and blood along the way.
They were nearly upon Marquis Raeven’s army.
“Withdraw! Withdraw now!” the marquis screamed.
They couldn’t possibly face those things any longer.
There was no need to throw away their lives without reason.
When the soldiers heard the order, they threw down their weapons and fled in a panic.
But there were too many people, leaving them unable to move freely.
At first Marquis Raeven had been thinking of a more organized withdrawal. He had been concerned about being attacked from behind, but wasting time on that had been a huge mistake.
“So this is the caliber of the caster Ainz Ooal Gown?!”
He had underestimated him. Well, he hadn’t meant to.
Based on what Gazef Stronoff had said, he had imagined the most powerful being he could. But Ainz Ooal Gown was actually on a level where even that was an underestimation.
This was too far beyond his expectations.
Who in this world could have guessed that Ainz Ooal Gown possessed this much power? Who knew such power even existed?
With an eye on the monsters as they closed the distance, gradually looming larger, he bawled out orders at the nearby soldiers.
“This battlefield is nothing but the site of a massacre now! Just run!”
“Your lordship!” A mounted knight removed his helmet as he shouted. “The king! What will you do about the king?!”
“You idiot! There’s no time to think of that!”
“Your lordship! They’re nearly upon us!”
At the shout, he shifted his gaze back. The right wing, collapsing as everyone scrambled to get away, was beginning to get overrun. It seemed like the monsters were making a beeline for him, but it was less like they were aiming for Marquis Raeven and more as if it were just the happenstance outcome. And in reality, the other dark young were nowhere near the marquis’s position.
“Where is the king?!”
“Over there!”
When he followed the soldier’s pointing finger, he saw there was already a dark young closing in on the king’s flag.
The marquis hesitated. What would happen if he went to save him? But if they lost Ramposa III now, it could very well lead to the kingdom’s ruin.
But…
“Leave him to Sir Gazef!”
Marquis Raeven trusted Gazef.
He was the warrior the kingdom cherished. Of course, even he probably couldn’t defeat the dark young, but surely he could pluck the king out of this hell and make it back alive.
“Marquis Raeven! This is bad! Please hurry and make your escape!”
Marquis Raeven’s hesitation disappeared at the shout from his most trusted former orichalcum-plate adventurer.
“Your lordship!”
It was less of a shout and more of a shriek by that point. Marquis Raeven roared back at him, “I know! Let’s get out of here!”
He didn’t have the wherewithal to employ such a flowery word as withdraw with the monsters closing in.
“Please leave rounding up the army to me! You should leave this place as fast as you can! Flee to E-Rantel!”
The one shouting was a man with sleepy eyes. He didn’t look like much, but there was no one else he would entrust the army to.
“Do it! If you need my name, use it! I’ll take responsibility.”
The sound of the hooves was near. He was too scared to turn around, so he kicked his horse. But it didn’t move. He kicked harder, but the horse still didn’t move. It stood at attention with its ears down.
At that moment, a group of horses tore through the confusion, kicking people aside as they went. The men on top clung desperately to the animals’ bodies, seemingly unable to grab the reins.
Ironically, the warhorses who were used to the battlefield were paralyzed with fear, but the untrained horses hurtled away in a panic.
“I never thought training my horse would come back to bite me!”
Horses were skittish by nature. It was through training that they became warhorses who stood unafraid on the battlefield. But that was why his horse was incapable of moving. It had suffering a mental shock, but its training taught it not to run.
“’Scuse me! Lion’s Heart!”
Wing god priest Jorann Dicksgord cast an anti-fear spell on the horse. Having regained composure, it snorted.
“Marquis Raeven! We’ll lead the way!”
“Thanks!”
Marquis Raeven raced off, under the protection of his former orichalcum-plate adventurers, to shouts of “I pray you’ll be safe!”
It was extremely difficult to ride a horse through a crowd that had lost all military discipline, resembling a rioting mob more than an army. But it was possible because his subordinates had been orichalcum-plate adventurers—with skills nearing the upper range of human potential.
The Caster of Destruction Page 25