The sun had not yet risen, but there were already quite a number of Workers gathered in the Count's courtyard. The last people to arrive were Hekkeran and the members of Foresight, for a total of 18 people. All of the people gathered for this job were capable Workers within the Imperial Capital.
Each team kept a fixed distance from the others, and at the same time they sized each other up warily, so the fact that every single eye went to the members of Foresight as they arrived last was quite an intimidating sight.
"Ah, there's a few familiar faces. Speaking of which, didn't we meet that stag beetle at the Katze Plains?"
"Strange, didn't I mention it at the inn? Gringam's team was hired too... what, I didn't tell you? I have the feeling that I brought it up... in any case, as you can see, all the notable Workers in the Empire are gathered under one roof! A warm round of applause for our client's ample finances!"
"We can dispense with the applause, I think. Let's leave that aside for now; the ones over there should be the team leaders."
Everyone present was divided into their teams, and among them, a group of three people were discussing information.
"Gringam's there too, right. Okay, I'll go over to say hi."
"...Ah! Ugeh, that bastard's here too? Ah! Seriously? Then, those elf girls must be... this is terrible. Die, you son of a bitch."
Imina muttered bitterly to herself. She might have been keeping her voice down, but Hekkeran and the others still panicked as they surveyed their surroundings for signs of hostility/
"Imina-san!"
"I know, Rober. He's a colleague for the duration of this job, after all... but I just wish I didn't have to see his face."
"—I don't like him either."
"Ah, if you want to talk about whether or not we like him, then I hate him too, but you need to mind your attitude."
A look of "you're really annoying" came over Imina's face. Hekkeran came between her and Roberdyck, then smiled mischievously as he shrugged.
"...Hey, I'm going over to greet him. Don't say annoying things like that. What if I end up showing it on my face?"
"Work hard, leader."
After hearing Roberdyck cheer him on, Hekkeran deliberately scrunched up his face and grumbled, "those two talk like it doesn't concern them", and then went over to the group of three people.
The first to greet Hekkeran as he walked over was a Worker in a suit of steel-colored full plate armor. Due to the strange, rounded structure of the plates and the curiously oversized pauldrons, he did not look like a human being so much as a beetle standing on two legs.
A large horn stuck straight out of his helmet, a sign that he was deliberately cultivating that image.
However, the part after that was not intentional. The man's legs were very short, so he looked like a stag beetle that a child had deliberately forced to stand on its hind legs. A nicer way of putting it would be to say that his short, stumpy legs stood securely upon the ground, and he had a Dwarven physique that was well-suited to being a warrior.
"As I expected, thou cam'st too, Hekkeran."
"Yes, Gringam. I thought the terms this time round weren't too bad."
Hekkeran waved to the other two people. His attitude was hardly dignified, but neither of them looked unhappy. This was because the four of them might have been of different ages and had different experiences, but they were equally skilled as Workers.
"So, your guys..." Hekkeran glanced at Gringam's team and counted them before replying: "There's only five of you; what happened to the other members?"
"They are taking their rest, and alleviating their fatigue. In addition, they worked the same assignment as myself, and now they must repair or replace their damaged or destroyed panoply."
This man — Gringam — led the team called Heavy Masher, a large Worker team with 14 members.
There were merits in having numbers on one's side. One of them was the ability to approach a job from many different angles, which gave one many ways to handle a job. In particular, the ability to recombine into a team that could take on any request was a great boon.
However, that approach also contained demerits. One of them was the fact that payment was divided among the number of people, and so each individual would be paid less. The second flaw was that deciding something would take a very long time, which led to slow movements.
After adding up the pros and cons, the fact that this man could group up Workers and their tendency to break apart based on personality conflicts, and then go one step further to perfectly control them was a sign of his great skill as a manager.
"Oh~ That's tough. Although... why don't you act as our support, so the friends you left behind won't end up hating you for earning too much?"
"Utter foolery. As a leader in mine own right, the task falls to me to assuage the underlings once the task is concluded. Regretfully, our band must seek the best possible outcome for ourselves."
"Oi, oi, don't be like that. I'm just saying that it'll be fine if you speak normally around us."
Gringam smiled thinly. Hekkeran saw that he did not agree, and so he shrugged and turned to the other man.
"This is the first time I've spoken face to face with you."
He extended a hand to the other man as a show of respect, and that man took it. His was a sturdy and strong hand.
His narrowed eyes flickered, then focused on Hekkeran.
"—Foresight. I've heard of you."
His voice was as clear as a bell. One could say it fit his appearance very well.
"You too, Tenbu."
There was nobody who did not know of this genius swordsman, who was undefeated in the arena. This man's team — Tenbu — was essentially a team composed of one man, to some extent. However, that was also why Imina's face contorted with disgust.
"I'm glad to be able to team up with a sword genius who can rival the mightiest warrior of the Kingdom — the great Gazef Stronoff."
"Thank you. However, shouldn't you say that he can rival me — Eruya Uzruth?"
"Oh~ bold words~"
Eruya smiled coldly, an arrogant look on his face. After seeing his expression, Hekkeran blinked several times to hide the emotion he had nearly revealed.
"Well then, I look forward to seeing your swordsmanship on full display in the ruins."
"Yes. You can leave that to me. I hope there'll be a monster in those ruins who can give me a challenge."
Eruya patted the weapon at his side.
"...We don't know what kind of monster may emerge. For all we know, we might even encounter a Dragon!"
"Now that would be a frightening sight. Perhaps a powerful monster like a Dragon might challenge me. However, I'll win in the end."
"Really now," Hekkeran smiled, albeit on the surface. He glanced to see the reaction of the last person, and worked to suppress his own feelings.
He recalled a rumour going around that in swordsmanship alone, Eruya was more than a match even for an orichalcum-ranked adventurer, so perhaps that answer of his was no idle boast. In addition, confidence in his own abilities was a good thing; bragging was very important for Workers.
Of course, that was as long as he did not take it too far.
Dragons were the mightiest species on the world.
They soared through the sky and expelled ruinous breath from their maws. Their scales were sturdy and their physical attributes were extraordinary. Old Dragons could even use magic. They possessed a lifespan incomparable to those of human beings, and even a sage would have to admit defeat to their accumulated wisdom.
Due to their power, stories frequently depicted them as wicked foes, or beings who lent a hand to heroes. The objective of the Thirteen Heroes' last adventure was the Dragon known as the Divine Dragon. In much the same way, the final adversary of a hero was often one of the Draconic race.
It was quite startling how he could compare himself to such a powerful being and act so cockily, even if it was idle banter. His swaggering tone sounded like he was joking, but unfortunately Eruya's eyes were serious. How full of himself was he?
Nobody knew what sort of monsters lay within the ruins they would soon be visiting. He predicted that Eruya's mental state was very dangerous and might end up dragging down everybody else as well. That ought to be the case.
I'd better stay away from him.
It was his own business if he wanted to die, but it would be troublesome if he came over to beg for help. Hekkeran smiled to him, and having made that decision, he amended his approach to Eruya; now he would be "used and then discarded".
"And the people over there should be the members of Foresight. Oya..."
A look of disdain and scorn filled Eruya's eyes the moment he saw Imina.
Apparently, Eruya had been born in the religious nation that revered humanity as the greatest of all races; the Slaine Theocracy. The citizens of that country often viewed people with nonhuman ancestry as second-class citizens.
From that man's point of view, having a Half-Elf like Imina working on an even basis with him must be very upsetting.
That part of him lends truth to the rumors... however, if he really was born in the Theocracy, then he ought to have a baptismal name. There's also a rumor that he abandoned his baptismal name.
Hekkeran grumbled in his heart, and just to be sure, he muttered:
"Oi oi, hands off my buddies, okay?"
"Of course. For the duration of this job, we are all comrades. I will work together with you."
"I would very much like to believe those words."
This man Eruya was like a strong kid who had directly become an adult. He unnerved others; or rather, he was mentally unbalanced to some extent. The mood around him was distasteful to others, and even after reminding him, Hekkeran could not find it in himself to relax.
"Oh yes, please believe me. Now then, let's return to the previous topic. In any event, I'd like to turn overall command of the expeditions to someone else. Provided it's not too troubling, I will obey the instructions of all the other members. Feel free to use me as a vanguard during battle; I will cut down all the foes before us with this blade."
"Alright, understood."
"...In that case, I'll be returning to my team. Let me know if there's anything."
Eruya bowed, and then left.
As he saw the women waiting for Eruya, Hekkeran's face twisted for a moment. However, he could not let his feelings be written on his face. Allowing others to know how he felt might occasionally prove disadvantageous, and someone like that was not fit to lead a team.
He quelled his emotions, and hid his expression.
He turned away, like he had seen something filthy, and greeted the last person.
"Greetings, honored elder. You're as healthy as ever."
"Hoi, Hekkeran. You seem well."
He wheezed whenever he spoke, because almost all his front teeth had fallen out.
He was Palpatra "Green Leaf" Ogrion.
The source of his nickname was the suit of armor he wore, which resembled green leaves glistening with morning dew. That armor was not made of metal, but the scales of a Green Dragon. Palpatra and his team had once succeeded in a Dragon Hunt. Of course, it was not a very big Dragon, but even a small Dragon was not a foe which an average Worker or adventurer could handle.
Palpatra was an old man who was in his 80th year of life.
Usually, people in this line of work retired after the age of 45. There were also some who would retire in their early forties. Very few people remained as adventurers after the age of 50. The people who worked such a cruel job where death was a very real danger could not ignore the effects of age withering their bodies.
In truth, Palpatra was an exception, but his strength had deteriorated greatly from when he was in his prime — apparently, when he had reached the level of the orichalcum-ranked. Even so, Palpatra refused to step down from the frontlines.
Palpatra and the way he continued adventuring despite his advanced age was an object of admiration for many people in the field.
"Mhm, still, he seems a little dangerous."
Even more wrinkles appeared on Palpatra's already-wrinkled face, and he lowered his voice, a gesture of which Hekkeran approved.
"Yes. If he wants to die, that's his problem, but I'd rather not go down with him as well."
"Granted, he is very strong, but excessive confidence might end up endangering his compatriots. He is extremely dangerous."
Gringam seemed to be muttering something along the lines of "how troublesome". After seeing Eruya's attitude probably all the workers were thinking the same thing.
"Actually, how strong is he? I haven't been to the arena in a while."
"Know'st thou not? I am aware... is it not the same for thee, revered elder?"
"I've only heard of his prowess, but I haven't actually seen it with my own eyes. Perhaps I could ask my companions. However, when we get down to it, what are we going to use as a benchmark for strength? For instance, if we used Gazef Stronoff as an upper limit, then where would something we were more familiar with... like say... the Empire's Four Knights stand on that scale?"
"The Knights who are also known as Heavy Explosion, The Immovable, Lightning Bolt and Violent Gale, huh... using them as a benchmark only complicates things. The four of them ought to be inferior to that great man — to the Kingdom's Warrior-Captain — but then, the days of Gazef Stronoff towering over the common herd are a thing of the past. As time goes by, new powerful warriors will emerge."
"So you want to say Uzruth is one of them, that he's really that strong? Besides, I've never seen the power of the Four Knights up close... the strongest person I've seen is probably the leader of the Platinum Imperial Guard, who answer directly to the Emperor himself. That man's skill is quite something... as I recall, he's on par with the Four Knights?"
"The mightiest entities I know of are the Dragon Lords of the Council Alliance. Humanity cannot defeat foes like those."
"Some say there's five of them, others say there's seven... Ah, we're looking for a way to gauge Uzruth's strength. Please limit yourself to human swordsmen."
"That said the Agrand Council Alliance's swordsmen are almost all demihumans, so we'll have to count them out as well. The Martial Lord of the arena is the same way. Then I'll cite the lady paladin of the Roble Holy Kingdom, who wields a holy sword. That said, she does seem somewhat inadequate in terms of pure swordsmanship."
Collecting information on mighty individuals was very important for a Worker, when it came to handling jobs. That was because the presence or absence of such information often determined victory or defeat. And of course, that aside, they were all warriors, and they could not help but want to know more about people who inhabited the world of martial arts with them.
It was the same now. The conversation had started by discussing Eruya's strength, but things had gotten more and more heated, and it became something like a swap meet for news about powerful beings. It was like a group of kids arguing about who was strongest.
"The Slaine Theocracy's people tend to be of a uniformly high level, but I haven't heard of any particularly outstanding individuals among them. Then again, even if they were, divine magic casters are outside the scope of this discussion."
"I heard there's a female warrior in the Kingdom's highest-ranked adventurer team. What of her?"
"Ah, the "no breasts, just pecs" one, am I right? She's very strong. Although, I heard that she lost a duel with the Warrior Captain."
"...I heard an adventurer addressed her with that made-up nickname and got beaten half to death. Hahaha, what a frightening young lady."
"After mentioning the names of the strong, I've come to realize that there aren't many powerful pure swordsmen. There's Dark Knight of the Heroes of the City-State Alliance. Then there's "Flash" Cerebrate of the Draconic Kingdom's adamantite-ranked adventurer team Crystal Tear, as well as "Crimson" Optix of the Worker team "Blazing Inferno", and then the Kingdom's... Brain Unglaus."
The conversation stopped here for the first time.
"Brain Unglaus? Who's he?"
Palpatra directed that puzzled question at Gringam.
"Dost thou not know, revered elder? That man is a famed swordsman of the Kingdom... what about thee?"
Hekkeran shook his head in response to that question. He had never heard that name before.
"Verily, all of thee know not..."
Gringam could not hide the look of disappointment on his face. Then, he spoke in a voice that lacked confidence, like he was perusing memories of the past:
"This is a matter of years gone by, when I once took part in the Kingdom's grand martial tournament. During the semi-finals, I had the privilege of measuring his blade skills a measure. At that time, mine abilities could not hope to compare to his."
"You're talking about the tournament which Gazef Stronoff won, right?"
"Indeed. In the end, Unglaus met defeat at Stronoff's hands, but the battle of those contenders was truly a sight to behold. They were paragons of swordsmanship both; how did he deflect that flash of light? And being able to strike with but a single curve of the blade under those circumstances....mine eyes were opened upon witnessing such sights and more."
Given the way Gringam was gushing with praise for him, and the fact that he could fight evenly with Gazef Stronoff, the mightiest warrior of the surrounding nations, it was clear that his strength must have been top-rate.
So it was just that he did not know that the world contained such skilled exponents. Hekkeran was filled with awe.
"Mhm... then, who do you think is stronger, between that Unglaus chap and Uzruth."
"Uzruth," Gringam answered without any delay. "If he had to battle Unglaus from the grand martial tournament, it would definitely be him. I witnessed a fight of his in the arena recently, and I am certain of it,"
"So that means he can stand on par with the Warrior-Captain from several years ago? Is he really that strong? Oh my."
Hekkeran had exclaimed in a moment of excitement, and he hurriedly lowered his volume.
"I see, Unglaus, is it. Looks like I'll have to pay attention to news from the Kingdom... alright, have you two heard of it? That there's a third adamantite-ranked adventurer team in the Kingdom?"
"Of course I have."
"Ah, pardon me, I haven't."
"Hekkeran... ignorance will endanger thy team."
"I know that, but I just don't have the money to gather information about our friends in the Kingdom. I can't spare the cash."
"Hyahyahya, how bold! I do not dislike such courage!"
"Revered elder, I seek your opinion on a certain matter. Having heard the rumors of Darkness' Momon, do you not feel they are far too exaggerated? They say the two of them slew a Gigant Basilisk, without the aid of a healer."
"Uwah, it ought to be just a rumor."
Such a mighty foe (a Gigant Basilisk) could not be felled by just two people, not even if they were adamantite-ranked.
"Thou agree'st with me then, Hekkeran? The more news I gather, the more dubious the provenance of such. It has even reached mine ears that during the great uproar in the Kingdom, he dispatched a fiend of well over 200 difficulty in but a single blow, To me, that might be a fabrication concocted by the Adventurer's Guild of the Kingdom to frighten those within and without the nation, and thus they granted those people the rank of adamantite."
"That's possible. After all, the birth of a high-ranking adventurer is a momentous occasion. Still, would the Guild tell such lies? The Guild is quite stubborn about the way they do things."
"The Guildmaster of each city handles things differently. The Guildmaster from my adventuring days was filth. So I punched him right in the face! Hyahyahya! I'm a Worker now, thanks to that!"
Palpatra laughed loudly and with good cheer.
His reasons for becoming an adventurer were well known. Anyone in the business within the Imperial Capital would have heard of it. Palpatra would repeatedly recount the incident whenever he sat down to drink.
"That said, I feel the Guild wouldn't do something like that."
"So you think it's true, then?"
"It's hard to believe. Even if you viewed it in the most generous terms, a difficulty of 200... that number alone is suspicious; any foe who was that powerful could not possibly be felled in a single blow. I think that part was an exaggeration that was deliberately spread. If an extremely high-difficulty demon really did show up, they probably engaged it with multiple teams and then had Darkness deal it the finishing blow."
"That sounds more likely."
"Well, if you counted all the adventurers who were stronger than orichalcum-rank as being adamantite-rank, I could believe such a mighty warrior existed. After all, adamantite rank can cover a very broad range."
"Hekkeran and I are of one mind, but thou feel'st it is true, do you not, revered elder?"
"Hyahyahya. I don't consider it to be entirely true either."
"Seeing is believing, as they say. I wish we could meet the man himself... then again, maybe not."
Just as the other two were expressing their agreement with Hekkeran, they heard the sound of flesh striking flesh, followed by a woman trying to bite back a scream of pain.
All the Workers present turned their eyes onto the same spot. Several of them had already lowered themselves into battle-ready stances, believing something had happened.
The source of the scream lay before Eruya — one of his female companions, who lay upon the ground. Judging by the circumstances, Eruya had probably punched her. The woman looked up at Eruya's face, which was twisted in anger. Her own face was filled with fear as she begged pathetically for forgiveness.
Hekkeran fought back a rising wave of nausea, and a thought flashed through his mind. He hurriedly turned his attention towards his companion — Imina.
Just as he had imagined, her face had gone blank. There was a dangerous air around her, as though she would launch an attack if things went any further.
Hekkeran hurriedly signalled to Roberdyck and Arche who were standing beside her, telling them to hold her back.
Personally speaking, Hekkeran was as angry as Imina was. However, he could not stick his nose into the problems of other teams. Of course, he could do so if he wanted. However, if he did, he would need to be prepared to bear all the consequences of that choice. That was the reason why the other teams simply wrinkled their brows in displeasure, but none of them made a move.
Imina's reason eventually overcame her desire to fight, and she spat on the ground after directing a lewd gesture at his back.
"...The only thing he has that's comparable to the Kingdom's Warrior-Captain is his swordsmanship. It would be wonderful if his character were similar to his as well, but I guess that's too much to ask for. Alright, we'll stop here for now."
"...Indeed. Since Hekkeran's here too, let's decide the most important thing."
"That man refused, so who'll be our overall leader?"
The three of them fell silent.
There were four teams present here. While all of them possessed ample fighting power, without someone to coordinate and lead everyone, they would not be able to take effective action. It was like having many arms but being unable to use them all at the same time; little different from only having one.
Being able to make effective use of a team of strong personalities was not an easy task, and doing so without complaints from anybody was even more difficult. If the instructions resulted in failure, or if others thought that one was placing their own team's gain above their own, it would incur the wrath of the other teams.
Frankly speaking, the position demanded excellent skills, yet there were more demerits than merits to taking it.
Every team leader understood that point, so they all remained silent while watching each other's faces. Each of them wanted to dump this burden onto the first person to open their mouth. After about a minute's silence, Hekkeran tiredly suggested:
"Honestly, we don't need an overall leader, do we?"
"That's just delaying the inevitable. It'll be troublesome once fighting breaks out."
"...Mine idea is that we should alternate. That way resentment will not accrue. I feel we may discuss the matter at greater length upon reaching the ruins."
"Ah~"
"You do have a point."
Both of them approved of Gringam's suggestion.
"In that case, we'll go in order of when we arrive there."
"How about Uzruth and his Tenbu?"
"It's fine if we skip that punk. Besides, he won't be able to do it."
"I agree, revered elder. Then, as the one who proposed it, my Heavy Masher shall take the lead."
"I'm counting on you, Gringam."
"Please do, young man."
"Understood. That said, there will hardly be any vicious monsters within the Empire. The problem lies within the Kingdom; a situation may arise once we draw near the great forest."
"Ahhh~ If I'd known I'd have reversed the order."
Hekkeran made a show of grabbing his head in mock regret, while the other two smiled quietly. After that, they immediately quelled their facial expressions and turned to look at a man who was walking towards the Workers. The surrounding Workers had already turned to face him.
The Count's butler walked proudly through the courtyard that was dimly lit by the brightening sky, with a pose that befitted a servant of a Count.
He arrived before the Workers, and bowed. Nobody responded to it, but he did not mind; instead opening his mouth and saying:
"It is time. My thanks to everyone for accepting my Lord's request. We shall dispatch two drivers with you and six adventurers as an escort. The objective is an unexplored ruin within the Kingdom — very likely to be a tomb, from the structure of it. The duration of the expedition will be three days, and the bonus will be awarded based on what my master learns, so we will arrange later on. Are there any questions?"
The butler had said the same thing as the employment request; the only difference was probably the presence of adventurers as bodyguards.
They wanted to know how the Count had learned about the ruins, but the Workers knew which questions could be answered and which questions could not. If their employer was willing to tell them, then he would have said so when hiring them.
Besides, if this job was really so clear-cut and aboveboard, adventurers could take care of it. Since it was dirty work, the employer had to keep quiet, and so not asking would be safer.
"...In that case, I shall take you all to your awaiting carriages."
Nobody objected, and so everyone followed behind him.
Hekkeran and the rest of Foresight were at the end of the group.
"That fucking son of a bitch, why isn't he dead yet? How about it, want to kill him?"
Imina could not tolerate Eruya, and she whispered her displeasure into Hekkeran's ear the moment she was beside him, in order to vent her anger.
Her voice was very soft; there was no telling if it was because she was utterly furious or because she was trying to restrain herself. Hekkeran did not know, and could only hope it was the latter.
"I've heard it before, but he really is a crude man."
"—He's absolutely disgusting."
The other two replied quietly, making no attempt to hide their displeasure.
It was only natural that Foresight would think that way. With a woman like Imina as their companion, there was no way they could tolerate Eruya's actions.
Aside from Eruya himself, the rest of his team was all female, and they were all Elves.
Imina and the other team members would not have been revolted by him if that was all. However, there was a reason why they had the unanimous and unreserved opinion that Eruya was a piece of disgusting filth.
The Elf girls were minimally equipped with crudely-made gear. In addition, their short-cut hair exposed their long elven ears, which had been cut in half at the middle.
The reason why Eruya's team members were like this was because they were all Elven slaves from the Slaine Theocracy.
The previous system of slavery in the Empire had undergone a great reform under the previous Emperor. They were still slaves in name, but their situation was completely different. However, just like the demihumans in the arena, the conditions of some slaves had not been improved.
The Elf slaves Eruya had in tow belonged to that type.
The three nations of the Baharuth Empire, the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Slaine Theocracy were almost all human, and they discriminated more heavily against other races than the other surrounding nations. Thus, even humanoid species — like Half-Elves and Elves — had a hard time living in these countries.
Only the Dwarves were an exception. The Azellisian Mountain Range that stood between the Kingdom and the Empire contained a Dwarven Kingdom, and due to the trading relationship the Empire had with the Dwarves, they were assured of protection under the law.
"I feel sorry for the Elves. However, we should not try to save them now."
Imina sighed heavily. She understood that fact in her head; her heart was simply taking longer to catch up.
"Let's go."
Imina moved to the head of the group after that quiet reply, and the others quickened their pace so as not to fall behind. Then, their eyes all went wide in surprise.
There were two large covered carriages waiting at the place where the butler had taken them, which would be heading for the ruins. There was also a group of people helping to load their luggage onto the carriages. Those ought to be the adventurers that the butler mentioned, because the metal plates around their necks glinted with a golden light.
However, what surprised them was not the adventurers, but the horses pulling the carriages.
"—Sleipnirs, " someone exclaimed in surprise.
The eight-legged Sleipnirs were larger than an average horse and possessed excellent physical strength, stamina and mobility. Some people considered them to be the ideal creature for land travel.
Naturally, they commanded a startling price as well. Most nobles could not afford a mount that cost five times as much as a warhorse.
Yet, there were two two-horse carriages before them, for a total of 4 Sleipnirs. Their employer must have considered the risk of losing them during adventuring, and so his determination was very admirable. Or could it be he felt that they would unearth so much treasure that only Sleipnirs would be able to move them?
Everyone was probably thinking the same thing. The sound of swallowing came from somewhere.
"Please use these carriages. Your rations and other supplies are inside the vehicle compartment. In addition, we have hired adventurers to protect the carriage and your campsite. According to their contract, they cannot enter the ruins, so please keep that in mind."
Hekkeran realised that there was something which needed to be resolved right away, and so he left his companions and ran to Gringam.
"Pardon me, Gringam, I need to discuss something with you."
"What troubles thee that thou seek'st my counsel?"
"When it comes to allocating carriages, could you put us separately from Tenbu?"
"Hm? Ah, I see. Thy concerns are known to me; thou fear'st for that young lady, hm? In that case, we shall travel with Tenbu."
"Sorry, and thanks. You're a big help."
"Pay it no heed; in this endeavour, we are comrades. A quarrel even before reaching the ruins would be a thorny matter, and I too am..."
"—Are you sure we'll be fine with these puny gold-ranked adventurers? I don't want to come back to a wrecked camp or wake up to find myself sharing it with monsters!"
A great shout came with all the force of a fireball. Two people stared at each other, and tensions were running high.
Eruya expressed his dissatisfaction to the butler, but he did not make any attempt to lower hsi volume. The adventurers stopped moving their luggage, as though time had stopped.
When one looked up, one could see higher realms ahead. Whether or not one could reach those heights remained to be seen. Yet, some people continued marching toward their goal, one step at a time, and Eruya's statement was very displeasing to those people. They were engaged in a struggle to prove their strength, and once their competency was called into question — especially if their client doubted their ability — it would affect future tasks that they were assigned. In that case, they had to prove their worth in a simple and quick fashion.
This man, whose words could not be tolerated by either the adventurers or the Workers, did not know how to consider things from the perspective of others. Therefore, he was virtually unaffected by the foul mood in the air, and continued babbling to himself.
"No, I do understand that they're fit to handle our luggage, I'm simply concerned that they won't be able to help us get rid of threats."
Give me a break! What good does it do to ruin the mood? Granted, they're here for work, so they should be able to bear with it a little, but still...
Level-wise, all the Worker teams here were on par with mithril-ranked adventurers, which meant that they were better than these adventurers. However, some things ought not to be said out loud.
Someone, anyone, punch him to shut him up.
Several of the Workers had evil glints in their eyes, and they were exchanging glances. Hekkeran hurriedly ran over to Imina. No matter what happened, he could not let her draw her blade.
However, the person who came to stop this was not a Worker.
"You must be Uzruth-sama, hm? I assure you that there will be no problems."
"...Are you saying that on the assumption that we're helping too? I could understand it, in that case."
"No. That is because there will be a stronger individual travelling with you — Momon-san."
A warrior in full plate armor poked his helmeted head out from one of the carriages, as though in response to the butler's icy tones. He had probably been in the middle of moving luggage onto the carriage.
"Allow me to introduce you to the adamantite-ranked adventurer team of two, Momon-san of Darkness and his teammate Nabe. The two of them will travel with you and defend your campsite. I trust you will be able to accept that?"
The air changed again. The pinnacle of adventurers and Workers — those who handled this sort of work — now stood before them. None of the Workers could speak in the face of this proof of absolute strength.
The adventurers regained their good spirits as they saw the Workers' naked reaction to the most highly-placed of all adventurers, and they went back to their work. A man who looked like the adventurer team's leader smiled, and then spoke to the dark warrior:
"We'll handle the rest; Momon-san, would you mind interacting with the Workers? Being that you're our leader, I hope that you will discuss our security posture with the workers."
"Alright. As long as your team agrees, I'll take on this task, despite my lack of ability. However, I believe you should be the ones to take charge of security. After all, you're more numerous, so it would be more convenient to follow your lead instead."
"Ah, no! What do you mean by a lack of ability? You're being too humble! Besides, how could we disregard the great Momon-san..."
"—No, I insist that you be in charge of security. Then, I'll be counting on you to skilfully command us. Nabe."
Momon chuckled softly, and then lightly descended from the cabin. An astoundingly beautiful woman followed behind him.
When a beautiful woman showed herself, people would sometimes make a commotion out of shock. However, once her looks exceeded a certain threshold, said people would not even be able to do that much. In the face of true beauty, all people could do was allow their gazes to be stolen away.
"Hekkeran, he's..."
"Mm, Rober, I'm thinking the same thing too. We saw him before, at the North Market. That man is... Momon of Darkness, and his sole companion. When you look at his mighty form, perhaps the rumors of him beating the Gigant Basilisk were not so exaggerated after all."
"Giga...! Is what you say really true?"
"So I heard. In addition, I heard Gringam say that he took out a difficulty 200 demon in one blow."
"—That can't possibly be real, a difficulty of 200 isn't in the realm of possibility for a human being... could it be that you misheard 100 as 200?"
"Even 100 would be quite amazing. But how shall I put this... after seeing his words and actions, I feel like it's the truth."
He had grasped Momon's character from his brief interaction with the leader of the gold-ranked adventurers. He felt that the man exuded the dignity and charisma befitting an adamantite-ranked adventurer, which naturally endeared others to him.
"Before we mingle... I have a question to ask you."
His voice was soft, yet its rich tones allowed everyone to feel his heroic spirit through his armor.
"Why are you going to the ruins? I know you've been hired. But you're not like adventurers, who find it difficult to refuse a strongly worded request. Why would you, whose actions are not bound, choose to accept this assignment? What drives you to do such a thing?"
The Workers looked at each other. They hesitated over who should answer, and in the end, it was someone from Palpatra's team who spoke up.
"For money, of course."
It was a perfect answer; there was no better reason than that. The Workers had not hesitated over what answer they should have given, and Momon should have expected such a matter-of-fact reply from them. The fact that he had still asked the question anyway left them at a loss as to his true intentions.
After seeing the Workers murmur their agreement, Momon continued asking:
"That is to say, if your client pays you a great deal of money, it's worth paying with your lives?"
"Indeed. Our client offered us recompense that satisfied us. In addition, there might be a further prize depending on what we find within the ruins. It is my contention that such largesse warrants the risk of our lives."
That answer came from Gringam.
"I see... so this is what you have all decided, then? I understand. Please forgive me for asking such a worthless question."
"Such a trifling matter requires no apology... do not allow it to weigh upon thy heart."
"Hyahyahya, well, if you've finished asking, might I ask a question in turn?"
"Please do, old sir."
"I wish to verify a rumor I've heard. They say your strength is extraordinary; may I see if those rumors are factual?"
"I see, seeing is believing, after all. Of course you may. I shall show you my might if it means you will accept my... no, our protection. Then, how shall I demonstrate my power?"
"The best way is to spar with someone else, of course!"
All eyes gathered on—
"–And of course, I will be the one to do the sparring, that's right, me."
"What? You, old sir? ...My apologies, but I am not accustomed to holding back. I do not wish to harm you, yet I have no confidence in restraining myself... do you mind?"
"Hyahyahyahya! That's adamantite for you! Not a thought given to the fact that I might hurt you instead!"
A quiet chuckle came from under the helmet.
"But of course, old sir. This is the difference in our respective strengths — I am strong, stronger than any of you. That is why I can bear the name of adamantite."
Despite his extraordinary arrogance and sense of superiority, it did not displease those who saw it. This must be the presence of the man called Momon. His statement overflowed with persuasive power in addition to a frightening puissance that could slay countless foes.
"...How incredible."
"Yes, he's just too amazing."
The feverish murmurs rose and fell.
Many women adored strong men. In terms of respect, many men were fascinated by strong men. They were like moths mesmerized by a flame, and for those who lived in a world of blood and steel, great power was the flame in question. They could not tear themselves away from the charm that bound them, even though they knew that they would be immolated if they misjudged their distance.
"Hyahyahya! I doubt anyone will doubt that you're adamantite-ranked now. Still, speaking of which, it's rare that we get a chance like this, so I'd like to get a few pointers from you. The carriages here will get in the way, so could I borrow that patch of empty ground, butler-dono?"
After receiving permission, Palpatra led everyone to the courtyard. It was not just the Workers who followed him, but even the adventurers and butler as well.
"Given the revered elder's skills, there's probably no way he can do it."
"—That man seems very strong."
"Mm~ rather than say he is strong, it would be better so say that the divide between them is precipitous. Even the two adamantite-ranked adventurer teams in the Empire would hardly qualify as superhuman."
"You have a point there. Silver Canary's members have very exotic professions, so they each have strange skills, but their overall abilities fall below people with basic jobs. And I hear that the members of Eight Ripples derive their strength from their numbers and teamwork."
Silver Canary was led by a heroic bard, and its members all had exotic vocations. Eight Ripples was a nine-man team. Due to their numbers, some said that their strength was not yet adamantite-level, but others also said that as long as they worked together to focus on a problem, they could handle problems which even other adamantite-ranked adventurers could not tackle.
However, whether or not those two teams qualified as the secret weapons of the human race, those who could make the impossible possible, the strongest entities (adamantite) remained in doubt.
Hekkeran said all that after hearing his teammates whisper from behind him.
The three of them were not the only ones doing so. If one listened carefully, one could hear the rest of them discussing various topics. The most-repeated question was how long Palpatra could hold out. Nobody here felt that he could beat Momon, because even after their brief time together, everyone had acknowledged that the aura around Momon was most fitting of an adamantite-ranked adventurer.
Hekkeran thought as he walked, and just then, someone came to his side. After hearing the noise of metal armor, there was no need to ask who it was.
"Gringam, how do you think their fight will turn out?"
"While saying so might upset the revered elder, there is no doubt that Momon will win. Beyond that is the question of how long the revered elder will endure. Wilt thou not queue behind the revered elder?"
"As if, give me a break. How about you?"
"Permit me to humbly refuse. Witnessing a superhuman warrior in action is more than enough for myself. Although, I would not object to a few lessons on swordsmanship from him during the course of our journey."
"Same here... ah!"
Momon and Palpatra stood before the two of them in the courtyard, maintaining a distance between and looking at each other.
Palpatra's eyes were not those of an ordinary old man. They were those of a veteran campaigner.
The aura around him had hardened into needle-like killing intent, and the air held no trace of this being just a regular old spar.
Everyone present broke out in a cold sweat, their hearts filled with uneasiness.
"...Hey, this is pretty bad, right? The old man's serious!"
Beside him, Gringam had reverted to his original way of speaking.
"Well, his opponent's an adamantite-ranked adventurer, so he's got no choice but to be serious. Still..."
Hekkeran shifted his eyes towards the dark warrior standing off against the old man. Having just spoken those words, he immediately drew a breath.
He could not sense anything from Momon.
His arms drooped down, he looked completely unguarded, and he did not look like he was about to fight a duel of blades. He was as composed as an adult looking at a child holding a sword.
"Amazing, he's not reacting even in the face of such powerful bloodlust. There's no way he couldn't have sensed his opponent's killing intent. So this is what the supreme perfection of warriorhood looks like. In other words, the supreme perfection of emptiness!"
"Is this what they call no-heart? Or the realm of clouds and water? He's so calm despite the difference in their weapons. He must be extremely confident in his skills... Ah, I want to throw myself down before him in awe."
(TL Note: both of these are terms from Buddhist philosophy: no-heart refers to a lack of obstructive thoughts while clouds and water refers to moving and flowing freely)
Palpatra was holding a magic item whose point was made from a whittled-down dragon's fang. In contrast, Momon held a staff he had borrowed from one of the adventurers. It did not look magical in any way. Magic weapons had all sorts of special effects, from improved sharpness, improving their wielders' abilities to doing additional damage and so on. Right now, Palpatra had an overwhelming advantage in terms of armament.
"No, that's probably not it. It's true when it comes to weapons, but the enchantments on Momon-san's armor ought to be stronger than the old man's. His other magic items ought to be of a higher standard too. Overall, I'd say they're either pretty close or Momon-san has the advantage."
"Art thou not too hasty in thine judgement? Hast thou not heard that the magic items the revered elder carries are worth more than an adamantite-ranked adventurer's panoply? The revered elder has completed countless jobs over the years. One could say he was the best paid man in the Empire!"
"Nonono, wait, wait..."
"Thou should'st calm thyself..."
As the two of them argued, the ever-rising urge battle-lust led to the beginning of the duel.
"Then, shall I go first?"
"There's more pressing work to be done after this. Don't push yourself too hard, come at me in a more relaxed way, old sir..."
Without letting Momon finish, Palpatra instantly stepped in with a smoothness, speed and power that an 80 year-old man should not have possessed. In contrast, Momon had not even raised the staff in his hand.
"—[Dragon Fang Thrust]!"
Hekkeran' eyes went wide as he saw Palpatra open with a martial art without the slightest bit of hesitation.
The technique made his spear's shaft curve, allowing him to stab twice, like a Dragon's fang. In addition, it could deal elemental damage on top of that. This was a development of the martial art [Thrust], being a technique which Palpatra had apparently developed over 40 years ago, and it had become widely known due to its excellent balance. Many other warriors had learned that move up till this date.
And among the [Dragon Fang Thrusts], Palpatra had chosen the [Blue Dragon Fang Thrust], with the additional effect of dealing electrical damage.
What's that old coot thinking?! We might have healing magic on hand, but nobody would use a move like that under normal circumstances!
A move like that, which could inflict electrical damage on the merest graze, was ideal for use against an armored opponent. Palpatra's use of that technique was a sign of how deadly serious he was.
However, Momon easily avoided that strike, which would have otherwise been the bane of someone in armor. Even in his jet-black full plate armor, his movements were as graceful as a feather. More astounding was the fact that he had not leapt away, but remained in place and dodged it while hardly moving at all.
That's impossible! What kind of dexterity and motion-tracking vision is that?!
"—[Gale Acceleration]."
Palpatra continued using his martial arts.
You've gone too far, old man! Has your brain gone senile too?!
"[Dragon Fang Thrust]!"
He used the same move from before upon Momon again. Snow-white freezing vapors shrouded the spear's tip; it was the [White Dragon Fang Thrust].
That lightning-fast series of four attacks—
A great commotion rose from the onlookers.
That was only to be expected. After all, not a single one of those four attacks had managed to so much as touch Momon's armor.
Palpatra leapt back. His forehead was beaded with sweat; he was not exhausted from attacking, but the mental strain of wielding his spear on deadly ground had been too much for him.
"He's incredible!"
"—He's stronger than Hekkeran."
"But of course, Arche. Don't compare me to him. He's what they call the highest-level adventurer, the peak of everything. That's the power of an adamantite-ranked adventurer."
"Now then, I believe it is my turn next."
Momon slowly raised his staff into a middle stance. In contrast, Palpatra took the spear he had been clutching and rested it on his shoulders. That was not a fighting stance; it was the posture of a man who had lost the will to fight — who had given up the battle.
"That was incredible. I give up. My skills can't even land a scratch on you, much less beat you."
"...Is that so."
"Oh..."
Gasps of awe rose from the people watching by the side as Palpatra announced his surrender. It was a truly overwhelming display; they had all seen with their own eyes a difference like the one between children and adults.
The crowd debated excitedly, discussing what school his dodging footwork hailed from and so on, sharing the emotions within their hearts. Hekkeran paid them no heed and took Gringam with him as they went over to Palpatra, who was wiping his sweat off as he spoke with Momon.
"Is it over, old sir?"
Momon's tone and the air around him had turned gentle.
"...Don't tell me you're about to show your true power now?"
"...Hyahyahya, my, you speak quite harshly to an old man. That was my true power just now. What you saw was the full extent of my abilities, Momon-dono."
"—Ah, forgive me. I was being rude."
"Please don't apologize. That would fill me with shame Also, you don't have to be so stiff when talking to me, because our worth isn't measured in our years, but in how skilled we are. Having an matchless man of power like yourself defer to me makes me feel a little itchy."
"...I see, then I shall dispense with the formalities, however reluctantly. That said, I'm not quite satisfied with ending things here. If we do get another chance, I'd like to make the first move instead. Now then, I still have to help move the luggage into the carriage. I'll see you later."
"Moving luggage is a trivial task; you could hand it to someone else, right? Surely this can't be your job."
"I don't think so. No matter what position I may hold, I must still do the job assigned to me."
With those words, Momon returned to the carriage, trailed by that beautiful girl. The two people who met them in passing watched them leave.
They looked at his mighty back.
"Hyahya, judging by your expressions, you seem to have something you want to ask."
"—Revered elder, what did thou think of that exchange?"
His wrinkled face twisted. It looked like a bitter smile, and at the same time like something else.
"That man is very strong. No, as an adamantite-ranked adventurer, strength comes with the territory, but I honestly had not expected him to be that powerful. From the instant I faced him, I had the feeling that every blow I struck would be blocked."
Hekkeran felt the same way. He had also felt that any attack he launched would have been easily blocked and promptly countered by the man called Momon. And even if everything had gone according to plan, he could imagine how his strikes would have been deflected by that armor. Palpatra had faced him head on, so surely he must have felt that even more intensely.
"So that... is an adamantite-ranked adventurer."
"Indeed. That is an adamantite-ranked adventurer, one who belongs to a realm which only those favored by the heavens may dare to tread. Ahhh, what a matchless beauty, a pinnacle to which we cannot hope to aspire... ... say, you must have been happy just to glimpse that peak, no?"
"Indeed! Watching from the sidelines, I could see thy movements clearly. If I was facing him in person, surely I would not have been able to observe his skills so calmly. Personally — while this may offend thee, revered elder — I would have very much liked to see Momon-dono's strength as he went from the defense to the offense."
"That's impossible. Momon-dono had no intention of attacking me at all, I couldn't sense any fighting spirit from him. It was probably like he said, he sucks at holding back. He must have felt that if he had actually struck at me, he could have easily taken my life."
If that were the case, then one could say Momon's thinking was very arrogant. That was because the old man — Palpatra — was a skilled warrior, yet Momon had scorned him without so much as looking at his moves.
However, it was because he could do such a thing that he could be called an adamantite-ranked adventurer.
"It can't be helped, the difference between his strength and mine is far too great. At first, I was unhappy too, but then he ended up taking the defense, and evading all my strikes. What could I say after that?"
That was what it meant to be strong.
He had used a weapon which he was not familiar with — whose balance and weight were completely different from what he normally used — to show how confident he was. That was the difference between the two of them.
Palpatra whined, "Ahhh, so tired, so tired," then turned his back on them and left. Naturally, he was headed for the carriage.
As he watched Palpatra leave, Hekkeran heard a quiet grumble.
"Even when I was young, I could not step into that domain. So that's adamantite... what an unattainable peak..."
Palpatra's back shrunk in his eyes. In contrast, Momon's back seemed massive, and oppressive.
"...That is the highest rank, that of adamantite."
"Yes. It's truly amazing."
Nobody around them could dispute their awed words.
-x-X-x-
A carriage ran like the wind, over the paved roads of the Imperial Capital Arwintar.
The magical beast that pulled the luxurious carriage had eight legs — it was a Sleipnir. A pair of skilled-looking warriors occupied the driver's seat, while above the carriage's cabin — in a place modified from a cargo rack — were four magic casters and bow-wielding warriors, vigilantly watching their surroundings.
The reason why such an excessive detachment of security personnel — like a mobile defensive formation — was travelling so boldly over the roads was immediately obvious once one saw who rode in the carriage.
Anyone with the slightest bit of academic knowledge would immediately recognize the emblem of three crossed staves on the side of the carriage, and from there they would know who it belonged to and who rode within it. That was why the knights on guard duty by the roadside did not stop the carriage and its passengers for questioning.
There were three men in the carriage. All of them were dressed in long robes, and they looked like magic casters.
All three of them were renowned individuals within the Empire's magical society, but their attitudes showed the distinct differences in their status. The most highly-placed of them was a white-haired old man.
Just as Gazef Stronoff was a famed warrior, when one spoke of magic casters, nobody's name echoed across the surrounding nations like this man did. This old man was the Empire's most powerful grand magic caster, "Tri-Arts" Fluder Paradyne.
Seated opposite Fluder were his adept disciples, who could use the fourth tier of magic.
After leaving the Imperial Capital, an air of silence had filled the interior of the carriage. As though unable to bear the crushing pressure, one of his disciples nervously asked:
"Master, what about his Majesty's orders?"
Silence filled the carriage once again, but only for a moment. Fluder replied in a calm, inscrutable voice:
"This is his Majesty's will, and as his vassal I must investigate. However, doing so through magic is far too dangerous. We ought to start with researching the archives, then summon demons to gather information."
"So that means you don't know either, Master?"
Fluder closed his eyes, then opened them a few seconds later.
"Unfortunately I have been too long isolated, and I have never heard of a mighty fiend named Jaldabaoth."
A month ago, an army of demons had assaulted the Kingdom's capital. According to the information obtained, their commander Jaldabaoth and the maid demons attending him were incomprehensibly fearsome beings.
This demonic disturbance had caused the Empire's knight corps — which invaded the Kingdom every year — to stay put. Normally, it was perfectly sensible in warfare to attack a beleaguered foe.
However, the fact was that there were two main reasons for the Empire to make war upon the Kingdom.
One of them was to indirectly exhaust the strength of the Kingdom. In contrast to the Empire's professional armed forces, the Kingdom employed conscription. Therefore, every time the Empire mobilized its troops, the Kingdom would have no choice but to rally the masses in order to make up for the shortfall of individual quality in their troops. For that reason, the Empire had embarked on a long-term plan: they declared war during the harvest season, forcing the Kingdom to gather its peasants and have them take the field. As a result, the peasants lacked the manpower needed for a proper harvest, which in turn damaged the Kingdom's agricultural output.
Another reason for doing so was to weaken the strength of the nobles within the Empire. The nation would levy a special war tax on nobles who opposed the Emperor, making them cough up funds. If they refused to pay, they would be charged as traitors and stripped of their holdings. In the end, whether they were strangled to death or swiftly decapitated, the end came for them all the same.
For these reasons, the Emperor — Jircniv — believed that once the Kingdom exhausted itself, the Empire would not need to force itself to go to war. After all, the nobles within the Empire were almost all toothless.
However, one problem remained.
Where had the wicked Jaldabaoth gone? What sort of being was he? It was all very disturbing.
That was why he had ordered Fluder, the Empire's top magic caster to investigate Jaldabaoth. One could say it was only to be expected.
"Also, there's Darkness' Momon — who defeated Jaldabaoth — and his companion, "Beautiful Princess" Nabe. Both of them are quite interesting. Then, there's the mysterious magic caster Ainz Ooal Gown. Have these hidden heroes finally decided to make their move? Perhaps there might be an intense battle like the one against the Demon Gods 200 years ago."
"...Will there be one?"
"We don't know yet. However, only a fool would start preparing for it after it happened. The wise are always on watch against the future."
Eventually, the carriage reached its destination.
The sprawling grounds were encircled with thick, imposing walls, with watchtowers to keep an eye on both the inside and outside. Hand-picked knights from the 1st Legion — the most elite of the eight Imperial Knight Legions — were mixed with a number of magic casters into several security teams, which were in charge of surveillance.
When one looked to the sky, one could even see members of the Emperor's own bodyguard, the Royal Air Guard, mounted on flying beasts, as well as high-tier magic casters using flight magic as they stood on watch.
This place was the symbol of the Empire's power, into which the previous Emperor had channelled the greater part of his efforts and energies — the Imperial Ministry of Magic,.
The production of magical equipment for the knights, the development of new spells, research into raising the standard of living through magical experiments and so on; all of these could be said to be the the essence of the Empire's magic, and they took place here. And the overall person in charge of this place — although the Ministry of Magic had no commanding officer — was Fluder.
The carriage passed through the grounds, and finally stopped at a tower in the heart of the grounds.
They had passed many strangely-shaped buildings on the way here, and many people had come and gone from each building, but there was hardly any movement of people in and out of this tower. However, in contrast, the security around this tower was much stiffer than that around the other buildings.
For starters, the knights here were dressed differently. They were not the same as the First Legion knights in other places.
They were sheathed in suits of enchanted full plate armor, carrying magic shields, and with magic weapons at their waists. Their crimson capes — which were embroidered with the emblem of the Empire — were also magic items, of course.
While the enchantments on their gear were somewhat weak, ordinary knights could not wear such equipment, not even in the Empire. The most important thing was that ordinary knights would never be assigned to such a vital state institution.
These ultra-elite knights were part of the Emperor's bodyguard, the Royal Earth Guard.
The magic casters lined up here were no less impressive than the knights themselves. These experienced, valorous magic casters had the air of grizzled veterans around them.
In addition, there were four Stone Golems, each over two and a half meters tall, guarding the entrance. They did not sleep and they did not rest and they did not eat, eternally focused on their duty as guardians.
The security around this facility was as heavy as that defending the Emperor's own body, and only elite magic casters whose levels were in the upper reaches of the third tier or a very few research-oriented magic casters were permitted entry. Naturally, Fluder and his two disciples were permitted entry into this tower.
The three of them raised their hands to acknowledge the knights and magic casters presenting arms to them, and then they entered the building. After walking through a straight passage, the three of them came to the upper level of a room shaped like a crucible. Many magic casters worked here. The highest-ranked of them hurriedly ran up to Fluder.
"Has there been any progress?"
"Not at all, Master."
The disciples gulped, and his Adam's apple shifted. The usual answer had two meanings, good and bad.
Fluder simply nodded, with a complex expression on his face, and then turned to the 30 disciples he had personally tutored — they were particularly famous disciples, known as the Chosen Thirty — and faced one of them, who was the assistant supervisor of this building.
"Is that so. You still haven't been able to induce a natural genesis, then?"
"Indeed. Not even a Skeleton, the least of all undead, has appeared so far. Currently, we are placing corpses beside it in the hope of inducing the creation of Zombies."
"Mhm."
Fluder stroked his long beard, and then looked down at the sight beneath him.
There were ten-odd Skeletons there, and they were tilling a field.
Each Skeleton raised their hoe, then swung them down, in an identical manner to the one on either side of it. If one were to look at them from the side, their overlapping forms would seem like just a single Skeleton.
This highly coordinated spectacle, which vaguely resembled a form of group exercise, was the true identity of the large-scale project which the Empire had been conducting. In other words, it was "undead labor".
The undead did not need to eat, drink or sleep, and they did not tire. In other words, they were the perfect workers. Granted, low-tier undead were unintelligent; they could only listen to orders, and they could not perform complex tasks. However, that problem could be solved by having someone stand by to supervise them every step of the way.
The merits of ordering the undead to carry out tasks in a crop field had exceeded their expectations. The reduction of manpower costs had reduced the prices of crops, expanded the farms and fields, eliminated the risk of human-related damage and so on. It was truly a dream plan.
There were other, similar plans, using summoned monsters and Golems instead, but after taking all factors into consideration, the undead were still the most cost-effective choice.
However, there was still a reason why such a seemingly-perfect plam could not be put into practice on a large scale.
That was because people opposed it — in particular, the factions led by the priests. They believed that creating undead, creatures of death which hated life, was an act which stained the soul.
There were also problems from a religious perspective.
They used the corpses of criminals to make undead, but the religious point of view was that a criminal's sin was paid off with the execution of their sentence. Going any further would be a form of blasphemy, and convincing then otherwise was a very difficult task.
Perhaps they might be able to talk them round if the nation was facing a desperate food shortage and many people were starving to death However, the Empire's food stocks were ample, and they had no problems with manpower.
For these reasons, the clergy opposed this plan.
Ultimately, the true reason for this plan was to increase their military power. With the undead to handle production, they could divert their human resources elsewhere, potentially increasing the amount of talent for the knight corps and other fields.
In addition, once undead labor became widespread, there were people who were worried that human laborers would be made redundant. In addition, the undead would not listen to humanity forever, and large amounts of undead might upset the balance of life and death and lead to the spontaneous genesis of more powerful undead. It was not just the priests, but anyone who heard of the plan that was unsettled by it.
The reason for this facility's existence was to address each of these concerns and find a solution to them.
"You haven't found the underlying reason yet?"
"No, Master. My deepest apologies, Master."
Why did the undead arise by themselves? Exploring this fundamental reason would have a decisive influence on the future.
There was a place which was perpetually shrouded in a light mist that only lifted when the Kingdom and the Empire did battle. That place was a cursed land, known as the Katze Plains. Undead appeared here at an alarmingly high rate, even Skeletal Dragons — some of the most powerful undead beings — who were immune to magic.
Even if the Empire wanted to conquer the region around E-Rantel in the future, they did not want to have undead-spawning land in their domain. Thus, discovering the process by which the undead arose would definitely be an aid to rulership. Perhaps they might even find a way to keep the undead from spawning ever again.
"Is that so, I understand."
The assistant supervisor bowed, grateful to have been spared a rebuke. Fluder walked past him, going in one big circle around the crucible-shaped room.
By the time Fluder reached the door on the other side, there were more disciples behind him.
The knights guarding the door pushed it open, and the group passed through it. Behind the door was a passage like the one just now, but it was much colder than the outside, and there was nobody around. The scent of dust hung in the air, and the light was losing its battle with the darkness that pressed in on it
They walked along the corridor and its dread-filled atmosphere, and soon they came to a spiral staircase that extended downwards.
They passed through many doors in the process, and they did not spend much time going clack clack clack down the spiral staircase; they were probably only five floors underground. Even so, the air was heavy, as though they were in a deeper place.
This was not because they were underground. The best proof of that was that everyone — Fluder included — had a stiff expression on their faces.
When they reached the bottom — an empty room — everyone had a grim set to their faces. They were visibly tense, perhaps even ready for battle.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the single, heavy door in the room. That door was filled with a sense of foreboding oppression, and it seemed to set this world apart from what lay beyond. In order to prevent its destruction or easy opening, the door was reinforced with several layers of physical and magical protection. This was a door which would not permit escape.
In addition, the many sturdy doors they had passed through on the way here spoke of the danger behind this final door. If the threat behind this door stirred, those door-shaped walls could buy some time; in other words, they were effectively a seal.
Fluder issued a warning to his disciple in a tense voice.
"You must not be careless."
It was a simple, terse statement, but that just made it all the more frightening.
The magic casters accompanying him nodded deeply, as one. Fluder gave them the same warning every time they came here, but since they knew what lurked behind that door, their expressions had never once slacked off.
That was because the ultimate undead was behind that door. If it was permitted to escape this place, it would spark a tragedy of unprecedented proportions in the Imperial Capital.
Several people began casting protective spells. These spells did not just defend against physical threats, but also included spells which protected the mind. After giving them ample time to prepare, Fluder looked around at his disciples' faces, and saw that they were filled with determination
He nodded, and then uttered the keyword which would undo the seal.
The heavy doors went thoom, and by the power of magic, they slowly opened.
Chilly air spilled out of the darkened room, and several of his disciples shivered, as though they were very cold. Even with magic items that allowed them to adapt to the environment, the hatred of the living which emanated from the depths of the room was enough to chill their soul.
The sound of someone swallowing seemed particularly resonant here.
"Let's go."
After hearing Fluder's words, his disciples created several magical lights to disperse the darkness of the room. Yet, for some reason, it felt like the darkness was thicker and heavier beyond the light it had fled.
Led by Fluder, the group entered the room which was filled with the odor of death.
It was a small room, so the magical lanterns soon illuminated the room's innermost reaches.
There stood a gigantic pillar which reached the ceiling. This tombstone-like pillar certainly attracted attention. But what truly held the eye was the entity that was crucified to it with thick and heavy chains.
Each link of the chains which bound it was much thicker than a grown man's thumb, rendering it completely immobile. The chains were secured to the stony floor of the room. In addition, its arms and legs were hobbled with gigantic iron balls.
No entity could so much as move a finger under these conditions. This excessively harsh method of binding instead showed how wary they were of this entity. Therefore, whenever someone in the group looked on the thick chains, they still felt uneasy. They feared that this creature would easily snap the chains and regain its freedom.
From the outside, it looked like a knight in black full plate armor. However, there was a huge difference between it and a fully armored man.
The first thing that caught the eye was its massive frame. Even a casual estimate of its height would put it above two meters in height.
After that, there was its black full plate armor. The armor was covered in tracery that looked like blood vessels, and studded with brutal-looking spikes. A pair of demonic-looking horns sprouted from its helmet, and it exposed the face, which was a rotten human visage. Two crimson points of light shone from within the empty orbits of its eye sockets, formed of hatred for the living and a longing for massacre.
It was not a living being, but one of the dead. Otherwise, it could not radiate such an intense hatred for the living.
"Death... Knight."
One of the disciples, who had come here for the first time, spoke the name of the legendary undead creature. Since it was a being of legends, it was not particularly well known.
The red points of light within the Death Knight's eyes moved, sizing up all the magic casters like it was licking them with its gaze. No; they could not possibly see any movement from within those dancing masses of light. However, the spine-chilling terror made them feel that the death knight was looking right at them.
The people who came here were all mighty individuals in their own right, each capable of casting third-tier spells at a minimum. Yet, even they could not stop the chattering of their teeth.
Despite their spells to protect their minds, they could not stop the fear welling up from within them. Yet, the reason why they had pulled themselves together and not fled was probably because of their magical protections.
"—Be strong. The weak-willed will perish."
After issuing his warning, Fluder approached the Death Knight. The Death Knight reacted to him; it radiated killing intent and began flexing its limbs.
The chains groaned as the Death Knight struggled and pulled its bonds taut, and its body quivered.
Fluder extended his hand straight at the Death Knight.
His incantation reverberated through the darkened room, lit by magical light. This was a modified version of [Summon Undead 6th], an original spell penned by Fluder.
"—Obey me."
The spell took effect — Fluder's quiet words flowed out and filled the room.
However, the Death Knight's eyes were still filled with hatred for the living. Everyone knew the spell had failed.
"...So I still can't control it, even now?"
There was a hint of regret within Fluder's voice. That was because he had tried to control this undead creature for the past five years, without success.
***
They had discovered this monster in that place known for being haunted by the undead, the Katze Plains.
The squad of Imperial knights who had first encountered this monster had never seen it before, but they were under orders, so they attacked it as per standard procedure. Several seconds later, they realized how rash and foolish they had been. The faces of those Imperial knights, known by all for their skill and bravery, were filled with fear and despair.
They had been utterly and one-sidedly overwhelmed — their opposition was far too strong.
After their foe mowed down countless knights like the passing of a violent gale, they finally realized that there was nothing they could do against it, and began to retreat.
Of course, they could not just leave such a monster be, especially after personally witnessing the the murdered knights become undead beings, serving the monster as its minions. Clearly, the more time they gave their opponent, the worse the situation would become.
After intensive debate among the Empire's leadership, they decided to open with their trump card; the most powerful fighting force in the Empire, which was to say they would mobilize Fluder and his adept disciples.
And so, the Death Knight had been captured and imprisoned here, which was to say that the battle had ended with Fluder and company victorious. However, the reason why Fluder and the others had won was simply because the Death Knight had no way to fly. They launched a sustained area attack on it that was no different from carpet bombing — a repeated barrage of [Fireballs] from the air, which slowed the Death Knight's movements, and in the end Fluder, who had been mesmerized by its overwhelming power, had captured it intact.
Currently, Fluder had imprisoned it here and gone through countless spells, countless magic items and countless means — searching through all the means which could control an undead being in order to control the Death Knight.
***