Chapter 32

“Apologies, Ainz-sama – for Ludmila to make such a request…”

“It’s fine, Shalltear.”

Ainz wasn’t sure if it was a matter that required an apology. It was the Baroness’ vessel in the first place, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t made the request in advance. In fact, the stop was one of the few concrete things on their itinerary: she needed half a day to do something just before they crossed back into the borders of the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Shalltear was apologising for her vassal ‘taking up his precious time’, but he wasn’t sure that his time was such a valuable commodity. While it was likely true for most heads of state, Ainz spent most of his own time looking for ways to avoid the responsibilities of rule.

After setting the salvage operations south of Lagaš in motion, they proceeded onwards to the mouth of the Katze River, which fanned out into a wide river delta. There, they found recent signs of travel, so Ainz felt that it wasn’t wise to linger for long. He gazed out at the northwestern arm of what, according to Baroness Zahradnik, was a large lake or inland sea, taking in the sights for a while before declaring that they should begin their return trip.

It was a one-week trip back upriver, which he didn’t mind at all. Seeing that their task of mapping a route through the Katze Plains was complete, Ainz could have teleported back to E-Rantel, but all the work that had piled up during his time away awaited him there. At the thought of the merciless march of incomprehensible reports and proposals, he could already feel stress rising within him. Despite already being on what might be called a short vacation, he felt that he needed time to prepare himself for that eventuality.

Yes, he needed time to prepare. Pre-emptive time off was in order. A relaxing cruise through the quiet darkness of the Katze Plains was just what the doctor ordered. Or would that be ‘the Cleric’ in this world?

And so, over the next week, he focused on the crucial task of relaxation. Sometimes, he watched the Vampire Brides play games in the hold. Other times, he went over fresh lists of findings from the ongoing salvage operations, ordering articles of interest to be delivered to him for personal study. Once in a while, he would call Baroness Zahradnik from her post at the bow to pick her brain over one thing or the other.

With the Katze Plains swiftly coming under the occupation of Cocytus’ forces, Shalltear had gone into a sort of relaxation mode as well. She seated herself beside him most of the time, going from outfit to outfit as the days passed. Surprisingly, none of them was as bold as he might have expected from Peroroncino’s daughter.

Ainz had half expected her to get into something outrageous the moment they were well away from the Sorcerous Kingdom. If she became particularly amorous, as Albedo once had, he wasn’t sure what he would do. There wasn’t a second Level 100 NPC on hand to pull her off if she pushed him down.

Was it the Baroness’ sense of propriety rubbing off on her liege? If so, he hoped that she would continue to be a good influence for Shalltear.

He stared off in the direction that Baroness Zahradnik had gone off to, across a small field of rubble that was probably the ruin of some village or town along the river.

“A-Ainz-sama?”

As he rose from his seat, Shalltear looked up from where she was sitting beside him.

“Let’s see what she’s up to, shall we?”

“Of course Ainz-sama. This way arinsu – one of my Vampire Bat Swarms has been keeping track of her.”

He flew up from the deck to follow Shalltear, who skimmed over the river to the shore. After crossing the ruin, he looked around for traces of her passage. It was then that he remembered that she tended to use her Ranger Skills to stealthily move around everywhere.

I wonder if that earns her Ranger experience...

In their time here, he had been trying to funnel experience into her Commander Job Class, but it seemed that even routines and habits reflected the Job Class Levels one already possessed. It became a part of one’s nature, so to speak. Unless they deviated severely from that nature, the natives of this world would most likely continue to gain levels along the path they were already on.

According to Pandora's Actor, the risk of build contamination was actually quite low for most of the residents of this world. Simply put, if one didn’t work, they didn’t eat. As long as their chosen vocation made ends meet, they would continue to advance in that vocation as a matter of practicality. Drastic changes in vocation did not occur unless one’s survival depended upon it.

Those few with the leeway to explore other avenues were the ones most at risk of build contamination. The independently wealthy, who could afford to not work, were likely to pick up a snarl of Job Class Levels if they were the sort to indulge in their whims. Adventurers, too, had a sort of ‘phase’. When they reached a rank where they weren’t struggling to make ends meet, they started to explore various possibilities for their careers, experimenting with potentially problematic Job Class paths, or investing in their hobbies. The Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild would have to keep a close eye on that.

This dynamic was quite counterintuitive to Ainz. In this world, individuals who toiled in ignorance, survived from day to day off of their established Job Classes, or were obsessed with a particular goal ended up with the best builds. Opportunity, intelligence, talent and flexibility more often than not resulted in harmful detours.

Guilt seeped into him as he flew along. It was highly likely that Baroness Zahradnik had a contaminated build, and Ainz’s past actions had probably made it worse. She had her Noble Prestige Class, which served as a springboard to her development as a Commander. Unfortunately, she was also a Ranger and he had signed off on the order to have her regain what appeared to be a Ranger Prestige Class.

They were still all functionally ‘warrior’ classes and did give her a certain degree of flexibility, but…

Maybe we should have her start from scratch – she’s used to dying, right? She levels up pretty fast, too…

To be sure, her strange Class had some convenient applications, but it came with its share of problems. As the Baroness had demonstrated, her Skills, combined with the zealous nature of the NPCs, could lead to an assortment of catastrophes.

It was a wonder that Shalltear hadn’t already employed her as a hound and such catastrophes had not already occurred. Maybe she just left it to her vassal to see to those matters, or she took the Baroness’ tempered views to heart. As the Guardian in charge of Nazarick’s First, Second and Third Floors, Shalltear was accustomed to the management of many. If one were to put it in local terms, she was a ‘Noble’ who had many ‘vassals’ and trusted them to do their jobs. Once the Baroness had become her vassal, it was likely that the same treatment and expectations had been applied to her.

Cocytus was much the same, though his ‘flavour’ of management was different. The Guardian of the Fifth Floor was designed with the image of a highly romanticised feudal vassal from Japan’s past. This was reflected in his character and the way he interacted with those around him. Shalltear was packed with Peroroncino’s fetishes, but her general demeanour was that of an Oiran – a high-class courtesan from the Yoshiwara District of Japan’s old Edo.

That would make the Baroness…huh?

Ainz grew lost over what it meant. Had Shalltear assumed the role of a big sister or superior in the pecking order of a red light district establishment? Or was the Baroness an aristocrat she had wrapped around her little finger? Then there were all of the perverse things in her settings…no, he wasn’t curious about what went on between them. Not one bit…

A faint metallic ring sounded through the air, rescuing him from the increasingly dangerous direction of his ruminations. It grew louder as they flew forward, and a looming object appeared out of the mists, waving slowly in the wind.

Ainz decelerated, drifting forward as he examined their surroundings. The red clay was broken and churned as far as the eye could see. Here and there, Ainz spotted bits of broken equipment left strewn about. It was a scene of past carnage, and, above it all, waved the vermilion and gold banner of the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Ah, crap, I shouldn’t have come…

Several of the NPCs had suggested that they plant the banner to commemorate his great victory over the Royal Army of Re-Estize. A great victory that was in reality a one-sided slaughter. The Battle of Katze Plains.

Below the banner, Baroness Zahradnik was hammering lengths of steel into the ground. After setting each, she attached to them some coloured cloth. Ainz came closer to see what they were, then realised that they were banners as well. Their sigils were familiar to him: they belonged to the Nobles of the Duchy of E-Rantel.

As what the Baroness was doing slowly sunk in, a gust of wind whipped over his robes. The young noblewoman looked up from her work, then lowered her head respectfully.

“Your Majesty.”

“I wasn’t aware that you were raising a memorial.”

“Unfortunately, it is not much of a memorial,” she replied, “but better than none. No one else will care to remember a collection of hopeful cadets, ambitious Merchants, and upstart Adventurers. The moment E-Rantel was annexed, the fate of our houses was no longer the business of Re-Estize or Baharuth.”

The Baroness continued planting banners, and Ainz’s gaze slowly crossed over them. The rolling hills of Gagnier; the eight-spoked wheel of Wagner; the silver chalice of Corelyn. Eleven others waved lightly together with them: the former houses of Re-Estize who now managed their titles in the Sorcerous Kingdom.

At the last, she drew a long steel spear, driving it into the ground. Another banner was attached to the end of it, bearing a white raven on a field of forest green. She looked up at it for a long moment before reaching into one of her Infinite Haversacks. Three plain-looking backpacks were carefully placed around the spear.

“What are those?”

Ainz felt like a heel right as the words left his mouth. If she took offence to his inconsiderate question, however, he could not detect it in her reply.

“After our village received word of the Royal Army’s defeat,” Baroness Zahradnik said, “I packed my family’s things. I was taking care of matters at home, so I readied their belongings in preparation for their return.”

Baroness Zahradnik looked down at the packs, cheeks glistening with moisture.

“When they did not come home, I resolved to stay. I planned on travelling to the city to find them once spring came to the highlands. I thought…perhaps they were injured and couldn’t travel, or maybe they were being held hostage. As long as they were alive, I could work hard to ransom them. But then, Momon and Nabe came and whisked me away. So many things have happened since, but these belongings never made it to their owners…until now.”

“I’m sor–”

Her brown eyes flashed towards him with an angry glint that stilled his voice.

“I hope you were not about to apologise, Your Majesty,” she said. “It is not proper for a sovereign to do so in this instance. Furthermore, it is not right. I do not believe that I would survive the insult.”

Ainz fell silent at her words. What did she mean?

The Baroness seemed to sense his confusion, and she smiled slightly through her tears.

“I thought that, as a sovereign, you would understand. But perhaps it is only we Nobles who can.”

A shuddering breath filled the silence, and she wiped her cheeks with a hand.

“To the world,” she said, “this is where the Sorcerous Kingdom was born. To us, it is where our fathers, brothers and sons fell in battle. The Nobles and their levies that met their fates here did not come for you, Your Majesty. They did not come for the Empire. They came because the King of Re-Estize called his banners. They came to fulfil their oaths to land and liege. They came for duty.

“Nobles are not defined by their accomplishments: they are defined by their service. Those that failed to return did not fail in their obligations…it was simply the final obligation that they were able to fulfil. To apologise – to say ‘I’m sorry’ – twists their chivalrous act into something small and petty.”

“…I see. Then what would you say is appropriate?”

“As one who stood against them, recognizing that they were there is enough. That they posed no challenge matters not: only that they did their duty.”

Ainz raised his hand and opened a Gate. He sent a mental command out to its destination. Fifteen Death Knights – one for each banner representing a Noble house and its people – strode forth and formed a ring around them.

“We will need to have something more permanent built here,” he said. “These Death Knights will be here to stay – to stand vigil over this place for the rest of eternity.”

Baroness Zahradnik lowered her head in a deep curtsey.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“…are you sure you don’t harbour any feelings of vengeance? Revenants are quite well known for that.”

“Only those who have nothing better to do than remain mired in the past are consumed by thoughts of vengeance. Though we may mourn our losses, the fact of the matter is that our houses live on. I hear that even Countess Jezne has secured a relative, and I suppose I will have to see if I can still have children at some point. What you mentioned about damage reduction might be the cause of some difficulties, however.”

Huh? What does that have to do with having kids?

“This event will go on to become another piece of each house’s legacy,” she continued, “one shared by every Noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom. I understand that the common folk love to deride us for our pride in such things, but that is just the way it is.”

Ainz supposed that he was one of those common folk, in this sense. The pride of aristocrats – the weight they put in their history and station – had always seemed like hubris that only fueled baseless arrogance and the acts born from it. After two weeks in the Baroness’ company, however, he thought he could begin to understand the so-called ‘noble pride’.

The Baroness did expound upon the virtues of her pride, but they were reflected in every facet of her conduct. It was because of this that it felt more than just mere posturing. Perhaps it was a form of arrogance, but it was arrogance born from unwavering belief in a greater order.

“If not vengeance,” he murmured, “I wonder what it could be.”

“I already know what it is, Your Majesty.”

“Hoh…what is it, then?”

A small smile traced over her lips, and she drew herself up proudly. Ainz stared, transfixed by the transcendent vision in the mist. It was not simply that of a beautiful and steadfast noblewoman. What stood before him was a true paragon of order.

“It is obvious, in hindsight,” she said, turning her gaze towards the banners waving before them. “What else could it be, but duty?”

Baroness Zahradnik lowered her head in honour of the fallen. All traces of sorrow had vanished from her expression. In its place…

Gratitude. Obligation. Pride.

A one-sided massacre that haunted the minds of men. Loss, sorrow and devastation delivered in a singular, unspeakable calamity. That was what most people thought of when one mentioned the Battle of Katze Plains. Before him, however, was one who did not dwell in the past, but faced the future. For better or worse, she, too, was a part of the legacy that he had wrought here…and he a part of hers.

Ainz Ooal Gown, the Sorcerer King – the Supreme Overlord of the Great Tomb of Nazarick – lowered his head alongside her, as did Shalltear beside him.

The Revenant

The dead rise. It is something commonly known; a perception uniform across race and culture. Amongst the Undead that might fit this description – the Zombies, Ghouls, Wights, Skeletons, and countless others encountered throughout the world – there is one that skirts the fringes of cultural imaginations: told of in countless tales, yet formally unrecognised due to their ephemeral nature.

Revenants – the returned – take the form of what they were in life, retaining the identity, memories and personal qualities of the living being that they once were. In reality, their bodies are a completely new form; an expression that utilises negative energy to manifest itself. This form is the true identity of an inexorable soul returned to the world of the living.

As once-living beings, a Revenant's conceptualised body usually enjoys an increase in physical capabilities and personal charisma. Beyond this, Revenants retain the Skills, spells and Abilities that they possessed in life. Some once more take up the sword that fell from their lifeless hands, returning to their former lives with supernatural drive and vigour. Others rethink their approach, finding ways to utilise their newfound traits to better achieve their goals. If the objective of a Revenant is beyond its personal power, it will use its supernatural charisma to gather allies or join with powers greater than itself.

At their core, Revenants are highly resilient Undead beings with a slew of immunities, physical damage reduction and regeneration. Perhaps most disconcerting to those accustomed to dealing with Undead is the fact that Revenants share very little in common with them. Since they manifest as an exercise of will rather than the usual ways by which Undead come into existence, Revenants have no particular weakness to holy, light or positive energy. By the same token, holy water and sacred ground have no effect. Skills such as Turn Undead and those that control and influence Undead minds are similarly impotent.

Due to how a Revenant manifests as the expression of a soul, the specific workings of their Racial Class Levels may vary to some extent. Revenants are always warriors, though what sort of warrior they are depends on the individual. All Revenants do, however, possess special Skills and Abilities related to the fulfilment of their purpose.

Fire is the sole physical weakness of Revenants, dealing double damage and temporarily halting their regeneration. Many take comfort in the fact that there is at least something that they can exploit, but the Revenant has one more trick up its sleeve – the very thing that they are most well known for. After a certain period of time, a slain Revenant will reconstitute itself and resume the pursuit of its driving goal.

Vengeance is the most common purpose of a Revenant, turning the existence of their target into a living nightmare until they meet their doom. Other goals include the fulfilment of a vow, completion of a task, or returning to a duty left unattended. One that stands between a Revenant and their objective will find that they face a being wrought of sheer unstoppable will.