4th Year before the Common Era. Re-Estize Kingdom. Royal Capital.
Despite being the very center of the entire nation, the ground was a dusty grey everywhere except the main thoroughfares. The grey stone bricks paving the streets were covered with tiny cracks and eroded chips.
Most of the surrounding houses were single or double-story structures of a medieval European style, exuding an old-fashioned and worn feel. However, the closer one got to the city's center, the neater and cleaner both the streets and the buildings became.
The air was fresh, yet the surrounding environment and atmosphere screamed one undeniable fact to Irvine Wolf: this was another world.
Ding ding ding— Clang clang—
The constant metallic clatter was the sound of adventurers' weapons and armor knocking together as they moved through the crowded streets. The noisy hawking from shops on both sides, each with their faintly sun-glinting signboards, added to the boisterous atmosphere.
Luxurious carriages threaded their way with difficulty through the throng, rarely stopping as most people actively made way for them. The crowd was a diverse mix: many wore armor, a few were clad in mage robes, and others were dressed in bright, peculiar clothing from various regions. In short, it was a vibrant and chaotic scene.
The entire Royal Capital had been flooded with people from all over the country in the past few days, all drawn by a single event. In such a lively atmosphere, most people's spirits were high.
But not everyone.
Irvine Wolf, dressed in a poor-quality long-sleeved shirt and dusty grey trousers, blended into the crowd, completely unremarkable. His current mood was the same dull color as his clothes. Beyond the initial bewilderment, a deep-seated fear clung to his heart.
This liveliness belonged to them. It was not for him.
Irvine had found himself in this world only the day before, but he had already grasped the terrifying reality of his situation. This was the world of Overlord, specifically the New World destined to be conquered by the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Therefore, a profound and chilling panic was his only constant companion.
Others in the stories he remembered would transmigrate into the game YGGDRASIL, grinding for power and amassing World Items and special classes, descending into the world with invincible strength or simply joining the Great Tomb from the start. But he had been dumped directly into the New World with nothing. If he had possessed even a fraction of that power, Irvine would not be so utterly terrified.
The only thing that offered a sliver of solace was the current point in time. There were still more than four years until the catastrophic descent of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.
He could be sure of the date because of the event that had brought so many to the capital: the Royal Tournament. It was here that Gazef Stronoff, the future strongest warrior of the Kingdom and its Warrior Captain, would earn his title by defeating his rival, Brain Unglaus.
Today was the day of their ultimate showdown. This single match had captured the attention of adventurers and commoners across the kingdom, explaining the incredible bustle and energy in the streets.
Although he had been an ordinary person in his previous life, his habit of reading countless novels had its benefits. It allowed him to quickly calm down and analyze his predicament. Upon hearing names like Gazef Stronoff, Brain Unglaus, and the Royal Tournament, Irvine had immediately confirmed the world and the precise timeline he had been thrust into.
The "Year 4 BCE" was not this world's calendar but his own calculation, based on the fan-made timelines and explanations from content creators in his past life. Since the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown would eventually establish a new world order, using a "Before Common Era" system seemed fitting.
His ability to understand the local language was thanks to a peculiar world law that facilitated translation. It was as if everyone in the world had eaten a Translation Jelly, allowing for seamless communication between countries and even races, though the written script remained alien to him.
The rough, cheap fabric of his new clothes rubbed uncomfortably against his skin, but the physical irritation was insignificant compared to the existential dread he faced. He didn't know why or how he had transmigrated. One moment he was lying in bed in his rented room, and the next, he was here, in this frighteningly real fantasy world. How cliché, he scoffed inwardly, a wave of self-pity washing over him. As an orphan who had always been alone, his disappearance would go entirely unnoticed. No one would care.
Thankfully, the influx of adventurers and visitors for the tournament meant his modern pajamas and shorts hadn't seemed too out of place amidst the array of revealing and bizarre outfits on display. The existence of various races, cultures, and nations clearly made for a very diverse and accepting sense of fashion.
After confirming his situation and forcing himself to calm down, Irvine's first priority had been survival. He found a shop and sold the only valuable item he had brought with him besides his clothes: a gold pendant with enamel inlay he wore around his neck. He received three gold coins for it—a sum far exceeding the mere weight of the gold, which was only around ten grams. The shopkeeper was undoubtedly paying for the exquisite, unfamiliar craftsmanship, likely planning to resell it to a noble for a massive profit. Irvine knew this but was in no position to bargain.
With the money, he spent five copper coins on a set of cheap, local clothes and one silver coin for a simple short sword. He was left with 2 gold, 11 silver, and 3 copper coins. The extra five copper coins bought him a few loaves of dry, hardy rye bread.
"Four years... more than four years to prepare. I should calm down... my ass!"
Irvine's left foot stomped heavily on the dusty ground, his mouth twitching as he cursed loudly in his mind. As a fan of the Overlord light novels and anime, he understood the horrifying truth better than anyone. What was the difference between four years and the descent of Nazarick tomorrow? To him, it felt like no difference at all.
The Re-Estize Kingdom before him, and everyone in it—including himself—was living on borrowed time, destined for destruction. His future seemed to offer only two paths: die in the utterly one-sided "war" between the Sorcerer Kingdom and Re-Estize, or, by some miracle, survive to become a subjugated citizen of the Sorcerer Kingdom.
But...
Irvine looked up, his gaze drawn to the magnificent, ancient royal castle perched on a hill in the distance. A fresh wave of panic surged through him. Could his identity as a transmigrator, an outsider with knowledge he should not possess, ever remain hidden from the all-seeing, omniscient denizens of the Great Tomb of Nazarick? The thought was enough to freeze the blood in his veins.