a lot of food to prepare, and she wasn't as good a cook as her deceased
mother.
Counting Nemu, Enri herself and the nineteen goblins loyal to her, she
had to make breakfast for twenty-one people. Cooking for two more on
top of everyone's would make twenty-three in total. Preparing that
much food was a lot of work, and could be considered a battle in its
own right. Enri trembled while looking at the vast quantity of food in
front of her and realised that it would all be gone in one meal.
"This is nearly six times as much as before…"
After taking a deep breath, she rolled up her sleeves, psyched herself
up and got to work.
She sliced the vegetables up quietly, and then the meat. The process
had been engraved into Enri's brain by now.
Although Enri was not especially talented at cooking, the fact that she
had learned to cope with such an enormous task in such a short time
was a textbook example of how diamonds were made under pressure.
Nemu woke from the sound of Enri making breakfast and rubbed the
sleep out of her eyes.
"Morning, onee-chan. Let me help too!"
"Morning, Nemu. I'm good over here, but there's still that thing I asked
you to help me take care of yesterday…"
Unhappiness flashed over Nemu's face for a moment, but in the end,
she didn't complain, although she did droop her head and replied
"'kay" as she followed Enri's request.
Enri stopped halfway through the cutting.
Her heart ached.
Stop it, you fool. It was not with his spirit of self-denial but with some
similar power (surely related to being undead) that he managed to ignore her
intentions.
Before they'd been transported to this other world, he'd warped her
personality by editing her backstory, as a joke, to say she was in love with
him, but now he couldn't make a move, even though he was already using
her in plenty of other ways. In a corner of his heart, he hated himself. It's not
like I can take a swing if I don't have a bat. I don't think relationships
between men and women can go well based on a mental connection alone…
Maybe that's why I'm scared? thought Ainz the virgin.
There was another thing. The NPC his old friend had made was a child, in
a way. He wondered briefly if it was right to sully or warp her any more than
he already had. Are you stupid? This isn't what you need to be thinking about
right now.
"Ah!"
The sudden shout from Albedo caused the flames in his empty eye sockets
to flare. "Wh-what is it, Albedo? What happened?"
"I have made an error. Supposedly it is proper etiquette for a new wife to
meet her husband wearing nothing but an apron…" She checked her dress
and blushed before speaking again. "If you order me to change, I will do so
immediately." She glanced at him, and her quiet but awfully distinct voice
continued, "Right in front of you…"
"Uh…right…ngh. Geez…" He sighed. "Albedo, it's about time we quit
fooling around. Let's start the report meeting and exchange information."
"Yes, my lord."
Regretfully—though for what, he wasn't sure—Ainz did his best to ignore
her and thunked down into his chair. He tossed three leather bags onto the
table. In moments, Albedo had shifted from horny bride to outstanding
secretary, ready to receive Ainz's instructions.
"First, I'm handing over the money I made in E-Rantel, so put it toward
experiments."
The bags were different sizes, and the biggest was so full it was nearly
overflowing. Inside were the gold, silver, and copper coins Ainz had earned
as an adventurer.
"Understood. Then I'll use this for Nazarick's defense systems and testing
whether we can summon monsters or not."
Three carriages rattled down a narrow road, surrounded by a dense,
dark wood.
This was the Wyrm's Whiskers, a forest that separated the Kingdom of
Asura's northern border from the valley known as the Red Wyrm's Upper
Jaw. The Upper Jaw was a natural chokepoint, but unlike its counterpart—the
Lower Jaw—far to the south, it was located several days' travel from the
Asuran border.
There was a good reason for this, of course: The forest between the
border and the valley was infested with monsters. Many years ago, the
Kingdom of Asura built a wall to the south in order to keep those creatures
from wandering into its territory, a measure that dramatically reduced its
spending on monster extermination. Largely neglected, the forest remained
home to vicious monsters…as well as bandits and criminals who'd fled
Asuran territory. Few were eager to risk a journey through it. Still, some
hardy merchants did push their way to the Northern Territories and back in
pursuit of profit.
The leader of this small caravan was one such man. He was a trader by
the name of Bruno, an up-and-coming merchant who'd made something of a
name for himself in the last year, and had only just joined a major Asuran
trading company. Bruno's current task was to bring two carriages stuffed
with goods from the Kingdom of Asura to the Northern Territories. This was
a sizable, valuable shipment. Losing it would mean the end of his career, and
possibly his life. There was a good chance he'd face attacks from monsters,
bandits, or both.
Before joining his current company, Bruno had been a simple traveling
merchant, accountable to no one but himself. In those days, he'd relied on his
own sword and instincts to protect his cargo. But now that he'd come up in
the world, he was facing far greater dangers and much more serious
consequences for failure. He could no longer do everything by himself.
Fortunately, he could afford the services of professional guards.
The third carriage in Bruno's caravan was occupied by a group of
adventurers he'd hired to defend it, in addition to a handful of paid
passengers.
The guards were the five members of the B-ranked party Counter
"Hoo dear, nearly bit it for good back there…"
Laplace was muttering to himself as he appeared before his master. He
clearly had the injuries to back that assessment up.
"Tough, huh?" casually replied his lord, a boy with black hair and a
powerful presence.
"Well, hang on there, lad," Laplace whined. "Tough hardly even begins to
describe what I had to wade through back there, yeah? Getting inside was
painful enough, but getting out—oh, dear, who can say how many times I
toed the line?"
"Oh, I think someone like you would work it out. Even if someone killed
you, I'm not sure you'd even know how to die."
"Oof. You're a mean one, you know that?"
"So," the boy aloofly continued as Laplace cried the best fake tears he
could, "did you find out what lies behind the Western Holy Church?"
"…Um. I know this ain't the kind of report I should be giving, but…
Well, no. Nobody can. It's bloody impossible, is what it is."
This stone-faced admission didn't faze the boy at all. He gave a soft smile,
as if he expected that reply the whole time.
"Hmm. Ever the liar, aren't you? You had to have uncovered a hint or
two, at least?"
Laplace shrugged and sighed. "Sheesh. After all I went through for my
info, I figured I could name my price with ya. But you just see right through
me, don'tcha? There's no beating ya."
"Are you serious, Mister Ono? You're really going to get rid of this
place?"
"Get rid of it? More like induce a rebirth."
"So you're getting rid of it. Don't play semantics."
"It's not semantics. It's just the next step."
Type type type type. The chatroom symphony.
The year was 1999. The entire world was buzzing about the Great King.
"What about the people who enjoy it? Who enjoy this space?"
"Naturally, they can come on over to the next one."
"...Think about it, Mister Ono. Sure, you made the game, but..."
"I think it's natural to move on, taking the experience and knowledge
we've earned with us."
Type type type type. The chatroom symphony.
There was no Great King, after all. The year was 2000. Neo Universe. The
world had turned a new page.
"You're not thinking about the ones you leave behind in the dirt, though."
"In the dirt... Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?"
Type type type type. The chatroom symphony. A new millennium. Chaos
everywhere. The world was changing, after all.
"I liked it here. To be honest, it pisses me off to see you're ready to move
on so easily."
"I'll make sure you'll like the next one, too."
"I feel like you haven't really been listening to me..."
...XX has joined...
"Cool your jets, guys. Don't spend a day like this fighting, LOL!
The mercantile city-state of Fuhren. A place where people, goods, and
ambitions all mixed together to form the largest trading center in the world.
Today too, it was bustling with activity. One could hear the clamor of the city
a good distance away from the walls, even.
A long line of adventurers, merchants, and tourists snaked out from the
main gate. They were all waiting their turn for Fuhren's trademark
inspection. Some lounged about lazily, while others tapped their feet
impatiently.
At the very end of the line stood a man who was dressed rather
ostentatiously. Next to him were two women outfitted in equally flashy garb,
presumably his servants. Though he didn't seem too impatient, he was
complaining incessantly about the necessity of the inspection.
He was the kind of fool who thought spouting large words made him seem
smarter. He went on at length about the incompetency of the Fuhren
government. The nearby merchants struggled to hold in their derisive
laughter, but the man and his two female attendants seemed not to notice.
In the middle of his tirade, the gaudily-dressed man began to hear a high-
pitched noise, one he had never heard before. It sounded like steam hissing
out of a pipe.
At first he tried to ignore it and continued droning on to his two servants,
but they, along with the other merchants, ignored him. Their eyes were
fixated on something behind him. Giving up once the sound grew louder, the
man let out a harrumph and turned to see what all the fuss was about.
The man let out a squeal of surprise. An unfamiliar black box-shaped
object was heading for the city at an incredible speed, kicking up clouds of
dust in its wake.
A commotion broke out among the waiting travelers. Many turned to run,
thinking it was a monster, but the black box was far faster than any of them
could have ever predicted. Before they'd gone a single step, it was already
upon them.