Chapter 10

“How shall I destroy it, Your Majesty?”

Baroness Zahradnik’s tone held no surprise, hesitation or eagerness. Ainz suspected that if he had told her to attack a World Class Enemy, she would have rendered the same response.

“You may choose the method,” he told her. “I’d like a demonstration of your capabilities.”

Beside him, Shalltear stirred.

“If I may, Ainz-sama…allowing her to choose her own methods will most likely result in a boring fight.”

“Is that so?”

“Ludmila is much like Aura, in that sense. She’ll pursue her duties and any orders you issue to her in the most prudent and no-nonsense way possible. Her priorities lie in the completion of her objectives, and she’s not one for being flashy or drawing out fights. If someone barred her path, she’d dispatch them while they were still introducing themselves if she could.”

Definitely not someone with good Karma values, I guess.

He turned his attention back to the Baroness.

“Out of curiosity, how did you plan on defeating this Wyvern?”

“Since it’s inside a building,” the Baroness replied, “I would have laid traps all around the top of the tower, then burned away its wings with fire arrows. The only way out for it at that point would be crawling up the walls, and the traps above would thwart its attempts to escape for a while. If it wasn’t dead from arrows by the time it triggers all the traps, it should be close to it. I have this flight item that you lent to me, so I’ll be able to kill it from out of its reach after destroying its ability to fly, regardless.”

Shalltear was right: there would be little to see if she went about killing the Wyvern in the way described. Aura wouldn’t use traps since she had her pets, but the result would be just as one-sided.

“The method you describe is indeed a strong demonstration of your capabilities,” he said, “but I had something more along the lines of a conventional fight in mind. As a Ranger, you do have ranged attack bonuses, but I believe your true specialization lies in melee combat?”

“That is correct, Your Majesty.”

“Then let’s go with that route.”

The Baroness nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to scan their surroundings. After a moment, a weapon appeared in her hand: one that stood out far more to his Arcane Vision than what was normal for magic weapons in the region.

“Wait,” he said. “Where did you get that weapon from?”

“It was bestowed upon me by Lady Shalltear, Your Majesty.”

“Using it would defeat the purpose of this fight. Your other weapon is sufficient.”

Baroness Zahradnik unequipped the glaive – he wasn’t aware that the natives could use Quickswap crystals up until that point – and produced her regular spear. As she walked off, his gaze slid over to Shalltear, who seemed to grow pale somehow.

“I-I received your permission to create a weapon back in the spring,” she explained. “It was for Ludmila.”

“That’s a bit overpowered for someone of her level, don’t you think? Even a Wyvern twice her strength would go down in one good hit with that thing.”

“But anything less would look so shabby…as a noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom, she should look suitably impressive, yes?”

Then why not start by filling all those empty equipment slots and replacing that crappy armour?

Or so he wanted to say, but the fact that Baroness Zahradnik had received anything at all from Shalltear was already a step in the right direction that he didn’t want to dissuade. On multiple occasions, he had shown how open-handed he wanted the NPCs to be towards useful, loyal subjects – even as far back as their subjugation of the Lizardmen.

Despite this, only a bare handful of the NPCs had picked up on his cue: to most, outsiders were unworthy of even the least of Nazarick’s treasures. He wasn’t even sure if they would offer them a hard-boiled egg from the 10th Floor buffet.

“Going for a more balanced look should be better, don’t you think?”

“I agree, Ainz-sama,” Shalltear replied, “and I tried…but Ludmila has this whole sense of humility that has her refuse anything that she thinks she’s unworthy of. It doesn’t help that even mid-level items are seen as legendary treasures by the locals, arinsu!”

There were exceptions, but the reactions of the people he interacted with were generally the opposite when it came to items from Yggdrasil. They would audibly swallow and their eyes would light up with greed or longing. Those unaware of his identity would even try to forcefully obtain what they saw for themselves. From Rogues attempting theft to corrupt officials abusing their authority, the locals, like the Humans of his original world, tended to possess a sort of shameless greed.

Ainz frowned as he watched the noblewoman walk around one of the Zombies nearby, examining it carefully. After a minute, she stopped behind the Zombie and her foot kicked out to collapse its knees. She silently pushed it face-first into the ground and lopped off its head with her axe. Once she confirmed that the Zombie was dead, she rose and looked around. When she saw that nothing else reacted to her attack, she moved on to another Zombie.

It’s like she’s clearing the area before fighting the boss…but is that really necessary?

The Skeletons and Zombies standing around the ruins were all most likely under Level 3. The Ghouls were at most Level 4. The Wights probably topped out at Level 6.

She was being too careful – and this was coming from someone who considered himself cautious. Those with scouting skills in this world could sense the relative strength between themselves and their targets at a glance, and people with extensive combat experience also had a certain feel for things. The oppressive pressure emitted by the strong, killing intent and all manner of fantastical abilities were real here.

The Workers that had invaded Nazarick merely laughed when they saw the low level spawns coming after them on the First Floor, destroying them without a care in the world. Was the difference between them and her due to the gap in their professional experience? Or was it the prudent nature that Shalltear had pointed out?

“Pardon me.”

Baroness Zahradnik skirted around them, walking up to a Skeleton standing a few metres behind. She reached out with her gauntleted hands and popped its head off.

Uwah…brutal.

It felt like bullying – someone ganking harmless lowbies with impunity. The Baroness caught the falling body of the Skeleton, gently laying it down on the ground.

“Do you intend to clear the whole castle?” He asked her.

“Everything is fairly close together, Your Majesty,” she answered, “so yes. Fighting this Wyvern is sure to draw attention from the surroundings, and there are several hundred Undead here. Since Zombies and Skeletons don’t make much noise, I figured I’d start with them first before figuring out how to dispatch the Ghouls and Wights.”

“Is there some reason behind how meticulous you’re being? The Adventurer Training Area should use Undead opponents as well, so you should be familiar with these.”

The noblewoman yanked the head off of another Skeleton, then stopped to consider his question.

“I think that, after a while, Adventurers hold a certain mindset for their sessions in the Training Area. Though Lord Mare has been refining his work, the fact still stands that each session is designed with certain objectives in mind. As such, the Adventurers in training don’t treat it as ‘real’, but rather as an exercise meant to test their skills and martial prowess. They aren’t wrong – everything falls within certain expectations, and there is no such thing as an unbeatable course in the Training Area. But the real world is not so accommodating, as those on the Azerlisia Expedition discovered.”

“I see…since you believe that anything can happen in a real situation, you approach things as carefully as possible.”

“There is still a range of what I consider plausible expectations, but yes, that is the idea. I’ve never been to the Katze Plains, and my experience with the Undead and the areas that they reside in is limited, so those expectations are fairly broad.”

She paused to consider something, placing a hand on her hip.

“I suppose there are also the considerations that result from my upbringing as a Human Frontier Noble. Undead are both tireless and relentless, and many can inflict debilitating conditions to the living. As one who leads many, I not only gauge short term outcomes, but the long term risks for actions carried out by myself and those under my command. If you win a fight, you’re still left with the aftermath and how it affects your ability to achieve your objectives. Injuries, disease, poison, and many other things will add up over time.”

“You are immune to any of the debilitating conditions delivered here,” Ainz told her, “plus you regenerate. The risks represented by our surroundings seem negligible.”

“From what we can see, yes. What I was concerned about was one of these Undead belonging to an Elder Lich and that Elder Lich flying in to Fireball me through this mist. I should be able to deal with one Elder Lich if it’s a weak one, but not a Wyvern, hundreds of the surrounding Undead and an Elder Lich.”

Admittedly, it was a tactic familiar to him. Leaving summons out as sentries to warn of the approach of other Players before they arrived at their farming location was something he had done often in group play. Once so informed, they would set up an ambush for their ambushers.

“Finding an Elder Lich was one of my objectives in coming here,” he told her, “so I’d actually like for that to happen. Erm, not your getting fireballed, but having an Elder Lich appear. You have no worries in that event – I’ll take care of it.”

The Baroness nodded, then turned to head up the street. When she arrived at the ruins of the wall, she reversed her spear and smashed one of the Skeletons there. The crack echoed over the surroundings, followed by the clattering of bones over the broken paving stones. All of the nearby Undead converged on her position.

As expected, the Baroness came out of the pile of Undead unscathed. The few scratches she took from the claws of Ghouls closed shortly after she had received them. She stood quietly as her last opponent fell, alert for the approach of anything new. Ainz flew over to settle on a section of ruined wall nearby.

“Easy, yes?”

“Yes, Your Majesty…but my spear probably disagrees.”

She held out her weapon. Since she had been using it as a quarterstaff for a good part of the fight, the wooden haft was covered in chips and gouges.

“You haven’t considered purchasing a magical weapon?” He asked, “Any damage one takes will repair itself until the item’s durability runs out.”

“I have Lady Shalltear’s Glaive for when I’m carrying out my official duties,” the Baroness answered, “but I’ve been looking for a weapon appropriate for Adventurer Training…at least I was, until I became Undead.”

“Why would becoming Undead stop you?”

“I haven’t participated in any training sessions since it happened, as it’s sure to reveal my Undead nature. My party will see any visible injuries regenerate. Worse yet, I may receive a significant injury and get healed on top of that.”

Ainz winced internally. This had happened to him more than a few times at lower levels – and that was with people knowing he was Undead in advance.

“So you’re worried that people will discover you’ve become Undead.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Baroness turned her gaze downwards. “It’s strange – when I was Human, I gave little thought to how others perceived me. Now that I’m Undead, it seems that I never stop worrying about it.”

“No one else knows about this?”

“Countess Corelyn does. Nabe too. There’s also the Dragon that I accidentally injured – she figured it out from my weak scent.”

Nabe wouldn’t care. A Dragon probably wouldn’t, either…

“Did something bad happen when Countess Corelyn found out?”

“No, Your Majesty,” she replied. “If anything, things have become even better…but she’s my dearest friend, and we’ve been together since we were little girls. I do not believe others would handle the fact anywhere near so well.”

“If this goes on for too long,” Ainz told her, “they may think you’ve been purposely deceiving them when they finally find out. Since the person that you’re closest to already knows, others may interpret your actions as your lack of trust in them.”

The Baroness frowned worriedly at his words.

“…I hadn’t considered it that way.”

“I’m not saying you should tell everyone and anyone,” he told her, “but there should at least be more than a handful of people with whom you think you can entrust this information.”

“I’ll have to think about who I can share my new state with. I don’t think it will include the entire Adventurer Guild, but I suppose I should start shopping for a new weapon again.”

“Merchants have started bringing magical items to E-Rantel again,” he noted. “As an Adventurer, you should have access to some Dwarven equipment as well.”

“Polearms are not popular with Adventurers – spears especially. Merchants prioritize what they believe they can sell for the greatest profits.”

She tilted her head in thought, tapping her chin with a finger.

“The restructuring of the Imperial Legions might result in some sort of surplus. Maybe I can get a few for cheap…”

Her voice trailed off as she went to destroy the next batch of Undead.

Ainz pondered her lines of thought. In many ways, she did not act like a noble. Using her authority and connections to get what she wanted appeared to be outside of her consideration. She was closer to an Adventurer in this sense, hovering around markets and chasing rumours in an attempt to secure crucial equipment.

They could just craft something for her. She was important enough – both to the Sorcerous Kingdom and, more importantly, to Shalltear – that she should have the appropriate protection. It wouldn’t do for her to die…no, according to Pandora’s Actor, she had already died several times. He wanted to find out if she had the obnoxious self-rezzing ability of Revenants from Yggdrasil, too.

It didn’t have to be anything extravagant: something on the level of the weapons he had just crafted would do. This world possessed several useful enchantments that didn’t exist in Yggdrasil, but as far as combat equipment was concerned even a Level 30 item that Pandora’s Actor slapped together as Amanomahitotsu would be on the level of a national treasure. If what she said was true about potentially matching her Adamantite ancestor, what they could come up with should at least be enough to allow her to escape from the majority of deadly situations.

The Baroness continued clearing the ruins. In the end, she carefully gauged the aggro distance of the Undead closest to the tower, attracting them to her by raising a clamour. Unfortunately, no Elder Liches came to investigate their missing minions.

With her preparations completed, she fished out a fresh spear and loudly tapped the stones at the base of the tower. A guttural trill reverberated out of the remaining half of the keep tower. She kept tapping until the sound of a large body clambering up the wall could be heard, its scales scraping over the stone.

A clawed wing hooked the rim of the tower, followed by another. A draconic head on a long, serpentine neck appeared, arching over to look down at the source of the disturbance.

Geh…I should have asked what kind of Undead Wyvern it was.

When it came to how the corpses of once-living beings were converted into their Undead versions, several options existed. The caster – or whatever was raising it – applied a ‘template’ that modified its corporeal form. Skeletons and Zombies were the most common example of this. What poked its head over the edge of the ruined tower was a Zombie Wyvern.

By raising a corpse as a Zombie, the hit points of the base creature were doubled, its physical strength given a bonus and its physical resilience increased. They also, of course, had basic Undead traits applied to them. Natural weapons and armour were retained, though not supernatural weapons and armour.

The downside was that Zombies were slow and clumsy. Since they were also mindless, a Zombie retained none of its former life’s combat experience or any spells, Skills and Abilities – including passives like regeneration – that it had learned as a living creature.

Unfortunately, the stronger the base creature was, the more the downsides to raising a corpse as a Zombie outweighed the benefits that it gained. Simply put, Zombies were excellent meatshields but not much else. If it was a living adult Wyvern, it would have presented a steep challenge for the Baroness if she were still Human. He had hoped that he could gauge how much better her stats were as a Revenant if the Wyvern had been converted into a type of Undead that didn’t drastically modify its original difficulty.

Since it had been Zombified, however, its offensive threat had been significantly diminished and it was not much more than a punching bag. Though it would take time for her to kill, he did not believe that it would be much of a challenge for Baroness Zahradnik.

Oh well, at least it has a lot of HP. I’ll get to see what sort of attacks she has.