Chapter 54: The Adventurers Who Avoided Death
The meeting broke up, and Ainz didn't leave immediately.
He stood in the corridor's shadows, watching Igfalge and his companions file out of the room. All three of them wore expressions full of resentment and hostility, and as they passed him, one deliberately knocked his shoulder.
"Move it, foreigner."
Ainz didn't move. He stood where he was, the gaze beneath his helmet following that retreating figure with perfect calm.
"Lord Ainz." Narberal's voice came from behind, a suppressed anger beneath the surface. "Please allow me to—"
"No."
He raised a hand and stopped her. His tone was calm to the point of near-indifference, as though the shoulder-check had been nothing more than a breeze catching at the hem of his coat.
He was thinking about something else.
Guild Master Buldon's words were still cycling through his mind.
"Silver-haired. Wide-mouthed." "Used [Create Undead] magic." "Adventurers drove her back with the potion you gave them."
There was no doubt. That was Shalltear.
But if Shalltear had genuinely betrayed Nazarick, she wouldn't stay somewhere she could be found at any moment. And if she had been controlled, whoever controlled her should have moved her somewhere safe — not left her there waiting to be hunted down.
A full day had passed since the adventurers first encountered her. Whether betrayal or control, there was no reason for her to still be in that location.
Ainz felt himself relax.
That wound-tight, always-braced-for-the-worst tension receded from him like a tide pulling back.
He almost felt like laughing. Back in that meeting room he'd been worrying about Shalltear's appearance being seen by more people, wondering whether to erase those adventurers' memories, or simply...
Looking back now, all of it had been pointless.
Shalltear couldn't possibly still be there.
Even if he went with this group, all they would find was an empty cave. No one would see Shalltear. Nothing would happen.
In that case.
Ainz turned and looked toward the far end of the corridor. Igfalge and his teammates were sorting through their equipment, preparing to set out. Their faces wore different expressions — some tense with nerves, some brightened by excitement, one simply impatient.
"Narberal."
"Sir."
"Go tell them we're leaving immediately."
Narberal paused for a beat.
"Lord Ainz — didn't you say..."
"I changed my mind." His tone was level. "I agreed to it, and there's nothing dangerous about it."
He paused, then added: "And I may learn some information I don't have yet from these adventurers along the way."
"Understood."
Narberal inclined her head and turned toward the group.
Igfalge and his companions had no idea that in the cascading chain of reactions set off by the divergence of the world line, they had just changed their fated deaths.
The party set out in the afternoon sun.
Ainz rode on Hamusuke's back; Narberal rode the warhorse conjured from an item. Igfalge and his companions rode their own horses. Together — one man, one battle maid, several adventurers, and one hamster — they followed the dirt road out of the north gate toward the forest.
"Hey, Fifi."
Igfalge's voice came from behind and to the side, still carrying that barbed edge.
"Did you really see that vampire?"
Ainz didn't turn around.
"I did."
"Where?"
"Far away."
"Hmph." A cold laugh. "In a dream, maybe?"
Ainz didn't answer.
He didn't care about the man's contempt — or rather, didn't have the inclination to deal with it.
One of Igfalge's companions stepped in.
"Captain, give it a rest."
Igfalge snorted once and let it go.
The party continued forward.
The forest drew closer and closer. The fields on both sides of the road gave way by degrees to scrub and underbrush. The air was thick with the smell of damp soil and rotting leaves; occasionally a bird startled from the canopy above and beat its way into the open sky.
"This is it."
The adventurer riding at the front reined in his horse and pointed toward a narrow track leading into the forest's depths.
"The place where we found the vampire is in there. About an hour's walk."
Ainz swung down from Hamusuke's back and gave its thick fur a pat.
"We go in on foot."
The forest was denser than he'd expected.
The air was close and humid, cut through with the smell of rotting wood and moss.
Ainz walked at the front, his pace steady, his armor catching the dim light in dull metallic glimmers. Narberal followed close behind, her gaze making constant sweeps across the tree-shadows on both sides.
"Here."
The adventurer in the lead stopped and pointed ahead.
A clearing surrounded by trees opened before them, barely half the size of a market square. The grass had been trampled flat, the dark brown earth showing through where it had been beaten down. Stones lay scattered at the clearing's edges, and several nearby branches had been freshly snapped.
"This is it." The adventurer's voice was slightly tight. "Last night, right here — this is where we encountered the vampire."
Ainz looked around the clearing.
On its north side, a path half-concealed by undergrowth led deeper into the forest. Along the edges of the path, branches had been recently broken — as though something had pushed through there not long ago.
"What's down that path?" Ainz pointed toward it.
Igfalge's companions looked at one another. No one answered.
"No idea." The youngest adventurer finally spoke. "Nobody's been that way. Too deep. Easy to get lost."
Ainz nodded.
"Then we go."
"Hey!" Igfalge's voice rose. "Our assignment is to investigate the cave, not—"
"There's nothing in the cave." Ainz cut him off, his tone as flat as a statement of established fact. "The vampire is already gone. If you want to check the cave, I won't stop you. But I'm going this way."
He turned and walked toward the path.
Narberal followed without hesitation.
Hamusuke set off after them on four short legs, scrambling along in their wake.
Igfalge stood where he was, his expression cycling through several shades.
"Captain..." The youngest adventurer looked at him carefully. "What do we do?"
Igfalge bit down.
"...Follow them."
The path was longer than any of them had expected.
They made their way through undergrowth and root systems for nearly half an hour. The going grew harder as they went, occasionally demanding a scramble over fallen trees blocking the track.
Then the atmosphere changed.
Something about the feel of the place was different — the particular quiet of somewhere a great fire had burned itself out. A wrongness that had nothing to do with sound.
As though something immensely powerful had once released everything it had right here.
"What... what is this..."
No one answered.
The ground looked as though an enormous iron plow had been dragged across it. The soil was churned and heaved, the grass cover torn to pieces, the dark brown earth exposed beneath. Several large trees had been snapped at their roots.
This was what remained after [Pure Lance] had collided with an equally powerful force.
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