Chapter 88: Slaughtering the Lizardmen
Morning light hadn't fully burned off the thin mist hanging over the wetland when Nazarick's forces were already pressing toward their fourth target.
The undead column carved a wide muddy channel through the marsh. The grinding of skeleton soldiers' bones in motion wove together with the heavy footfalls of zombies into a rhythm that unsettled the air.
The water birds in the swamp had taken flight long since. Even the insect noise had gone silent.
Aura sat on the back of her Fenrir wolf, swinging her legs with nothing particular to do.
Fenrir, an all-black wolf of enormous size, was the leader of Aura's beast army. Level approximately 80.
The dark elf girl's ears turned slightly, picking up the information feeding back from her familiars in the surrounding forest. Nothing anomalous. No enemy worth noting.
"Demiurge." She spoke without particular preamble, her voice clean and distinct against the silence of the marching column.
"Hm?" The demon walking beside the wolf pushed his glasses and turned his head.
"I was thinking." Aura tilted her head. Real puzzlement showed in those mismatched eyes. "If Ainz-sama wants to draw the dragon into attacking, why not leave enough time for the dragon to find out? Like declaring war in advance, giving them time to prepare."
A cunning smile moved across Demiurge's face.
"This is precisely where Ainz-sama's wisdom lies, Aura."
His voice carried the ease of someone for whom this question had always been anticipated.
"If we declared war in advance, these weak lizardmen would certainly unify their forces. With the Great Tomb's strength, we could crush that unified front in a single strike, of course. But the battle would be over in an extremely short time."
Demiurge adjusted his glasses.
"And the dragon watching from the shadows would find the window too brief. Before it could form any response, the engagement would be finished."
Aura's ears rose. The puzzlement on her face was gradually being replaced by understanding.
"But if we move slowly, one tribe at a time..." A layer of something pointed had entered Demiurge's voice.
"Each tribe's destruction becomes a signal of despair, transmitted outward. And the dragon has ample time to receive those signals and choose how to act."
Demiurge brought it together: "Without the dragon threat, an early declaration would be the optimal choice. Under current conditions, eliminating the lizardmen slowly is far more aligned with the Great Tomb's interests."
Aura's eyes lit up. Genuine admiration spread across her face.
"Wow, Ainz-sama thought through all of that?"
Her voice was full of it, but right behind the admiration, something moved through those mismatched eyes that didn't quite match her youthful face. Her ears dropped slightly. Her voice came out a little softer.
"If Shalltear were here... she'd definitely be amazed by Ainz-sama's brilliance too."
Demiurge's gaze came to rest on Aura, carrying a trace of scholarly curiosity.
"I thought your relationship with Shalltear was difficult," he said. "I recall the two of you arguing frequently. That you'd miss her now is rather unexpected."
Aura's expression pulled between "annoyed" and "you're not wrong" for a brief moment.
Then she sighed, and explained with the tone of someone resigned to the obvious:
"That's Bukubukuchagama-sama and Peroroncino-sama's design."
She raised her eyes to the misty forest line in the distance, and something softer entered her voice.
"Bukubukuchagama-sama and Peroroncino-sama were siblings. They liked bickering too, back and forth, but they genuinely cared about each other."
She paused. Her lowered ears shifted slightly.
"So... even though Shalltear is always infuriating, she's also a continuation of what the Supreme Beings meant to each other. Not having her around being noisy and irritating is, in fact, a little strange."
Demiurge was quiet for a moment.
"I see. Learning something of the relationships between the Supreme Beings is an honor."
Only sincerity in his voice.
The march continued.
The morning mist thinned under the climbing sun. Water vapor rose from the wetland and became a fine white veil across the silent column pressing forward.
Ainz held open a map in his hand, drawn by Aura's familiars. The sheepskin was marked with precise lines indicating the five lizardmen tribes in this wetland, each settlement's details recorded in full.
His finger bones moved slowly across the map.
Green Claw Tribe. Eliminated. All bodies converted to undead and incorporated into the force.
Sharp Tail Tribe. Eliminated. Likewise converted to undead, added to the army's strength.
Small Fang Tribe. Eliminated. Those lizardmen with their skill for stone-throwing were now skeletons that only followed orders.
The dark red light in Ainz's eye sockets flickered.
"Yoshi."
His voice was quiet, but carried the satisfaction of a plan moving exactly as intended. His finger bones tapped the two remaining markers on the map.
"That leaves two more tribes to deal with."
His gaze settled on the next target. The red light in his eye sockets burned steadily.
He raised his head and looked toward the head of the march column. His voice was certain.
"Our next target is the Red Eye Tribe."
Ainz had his own reasoning.
From the available intelligence, the probability of the dragon that had controlled Shalltear having any meaningful connection to the lizardmen was not high.
These sub-humans' level of civilization was simply too low.
But what if the dragon actually was concealed somewhere in this wetland?
Ainz's gaze drifted involuntarily toward the last marker on the map.
Dragon Tusk Tribe.
That name.
"Dragon Tusk."
Ainz traced his finger bones along his jawbone, striking a contemplative pose.
The name literally had "dragon" in it, so clearly the likelihood there was the highest.
If the dragon truly had some connection to the lizardmen, the probability of it existing in some form among the Dragon Tusk Tribe was obviously greater than any of the others.
Perhaps it was their guardian deity? Perhaps it was disguised as a lizardman somewhere in the village? Or perhaps...
Ainz's thoughts moved quickly.
Saving the hardest boss until last. That was basic player sense.
Clear the small-fry tribes first, build numerical advantage in the undead army, and simultaneously test the dragon's response.
An involuntary feeling of pride in his own extraordinary intellect moved through Ainz.
Suzuki Satoru, you're actually pretty sharp, he thought privately, and immediately felt somewhat self-conscious about it.
Though I absolutely cannot say any of this out loud. If Demiurge happened to hear it, he'd extract some "deeper intention" I never had. That three-layer plan business was already more than enough of a headache.
As he was thinking this, his familiars at the front sent a signal.