Chapter 20

They anchored a few hundred metres from where the underwater hazards were supposedly lurking just beneath the surface. Ludmila frowned out over the river, searching for the telltale signs in the current that indicated submerged objects like rocks or logs.

“If you want to go for a swim,” Lady Shalltear said, “go right on ahead.”

“I don’t want to get silt and mud on this precious equipment.”

“Then just take it all off,” her liege smiled. “In fact, I’d prefer it that way.”

Ludmila eyed the back of the Sorcerer King, who had walked up to gaze out over the end of the bow. The fingers clasped behind him twitched.

Had they gotten a reaction out of His Majesty? The Sorcerer King nearly always carried himself with regal poise and grace. It made the rare times that his raw feelings slipped out especially endearing – precious moments to be quietly cherished in her memory.

Ludmila briefly imagined herself stripping in front of him before she caught herself.

“That’s inappropriate, my lady.”

In front of them, the Sorcerer King seemed to nod to himself.

“It’s just us here,” Lady Shalltear said. “Well, if you’re that shy, how about swimming around in just the bodysuit?”

His Majesty turned around.

“Won’t it be unequipped with the rest of the armour?”

“The individual pieces may still be removed by hand, Lord Ainz.”

“That seems like a hassle,” the Sorcerer King said. “She doesn’t have usable clothing under her armour?”

“Under my armour?” Ludmila frowned.

A long silence passed between them. The crimson points of His Majesty’s eyes drifted over Ludmila. Half of her wanted his gaze to linger, while the other half urged her to cringe away. His gaze slid over to Lady Shalltear.

“Shalltear…”

“Y-yes, Lord Ainz?”

“I’m fairly certain there was a clothing slot item listed in this equipment set.”

“Yes – waikayayche-zero-seven.”

“So then it should be no problem, yes?”

Lady Shalltear opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her brows drew together in an expression of great concentration before her face relaxed into a smile. It brought to mind the look of a Farmer showing off their prize animal.

“Ludmila,” she said imperiously. “His Majesty desires that you unequip your armo–”

“Wait!” His Majesty cut in, “What exactly is waikayayche-zero-seven?”

“It’s, erm…important! Yes: important equipment for ladies of our means.”

The Sorcerer King turned to Ludmila.

“Lady Zahradnik,” he asked, “what is it?”

“They’re…they’re pads, Your Majesty.”

“…and?”

“That’s it.”

After the answer left her mouth, Ludmila wanted to jump into the river – armour and all.

“You could have used something better to wear under her armour,” the Sorcerer King said.

“B-but it’s how Lord Peroroncino made it!” Lady Shalltear protested, then turned to Ludmila, “You like it, don’t you? Wearing next to nothing under your armour – it’s exciting!”

“That’s…”

It wasn’t that particular aspect of the equipment that she liked. Lady Shalltear showed her how to use them with her regular clothing, so Ludmila had planned on doing just that. Its enchantments wouldn’t stack with the effects of enchanted clothing that was already there, but that was beside the point. As Lady Shalltear had so delicately put it, it was important equipment for ladies of their means.

The scales of her judgement teetered back and forth. She would have to return them if they were replaced with something else. Maybe she could have something like them made?

“The next time we go back,” the Sorcerer King said. “Have some regular undergarments made for that slot.”

And so the god of judgement rendered his decision in her stead. Lady Shalltear sighed in disappointment, and His Majesty turned back to look out over the bow.

“I have some swimwear you could borrow,” her liege offered.

The Sorcerer King froze. Ludmila frowned upon seeing His Majesty do so.

“Swimwear?”

“Equipment designed to be worn in and around water,” her liege told her. “Would you like to take a look?”

“I can’t say I'm not just a bit curious…”

Something appeared in Lady Shalltear’s hands. Ludmila waited for her to start laying out pieces of equipment on the deck, but Lady Shalltear simply dangled it in front of her. Ludmila’s eyes widened in scandalised realisation.

“My lady, that’s a string!”

“「Summon Monster X」!”

They both started as the Sorcerer King’s voice boomed out over the river. The ‘swimwear’ vanished from Lady Shalltear’s hands.

Seconds later, something stirred beneath the water. A swell formed in front of the ship, resolving into a watery face as wide as Ludmila was tall.

“Move the wrecks below onto the eastern shore,” His Majesty ordered. “Minimise the damage to them, if possible.”

The face merged back into the river, leaving nothing but the flowing current behind. Several dozen seconds later, a huge object broke the surface of the water. It took a moment to realise that it was the bow of a ship. Torrents of water streamed off of its deck as it rose above the current for the first time in untold ages. Aquatic Undead, rotting debris and globs of silt plopped into the water.

More of the hull followed, but it abruptly ended in a jagged array of broken boards. Ludmila thought that it must have been at least half of the vessel; the stump of a mast could be seen near the back end. Its design was distinctly different from her knarr, however, half again its beam with three times the draught. As the wreck was conveyed into the mist towards the distant riverbank, she saw that it was being cradled by what appeared to be living water.

“Is that a Water Elemental, Your Majesty?”

“Umu,” the Sorcerer King replied. “It’s an Elemental Monolith – one step down from a Primal Elemental. It’s quite a large step, however.”

As he said so, three more broken hulls rose from the water. The Elemental Monoliths were powerful enough that she couldn’t accurately gauge how strong they were. The size of an Elemental correlated directly to its power, so Adventurers described them in those terms. Small, medium, large, huge, and so on – neither ‘Monolith’ nor ‘Primal’ was familiar to her.

“Shalltear,” His Majesty said, “summon some as well: there’s an entire fleet down there to dredge up.”

“Right away, Lord Ainz! 「Summon Monster X」!”

Four more Water Elemental Monoliths joined the first set.

“Your Majesty,” Ludmila asked, “How strong would you say these are compared to the creature that attacked the tower that we just left?”

“Hmm…specific properties aside, each one of these should be about the same strength as the entity that was rampaging through that building.”

Ludmila’s gaze followed the line of Elementals carrying wreckage to the shore. Each one…the fate that befell Katze seemed an impossibility for the Sorcerous Kingdom. Challenging beings of transcendental power like His Majesty and Lady Shalltear was unthinkable.

Her solemn thoughts turned grave, recalling the histories of the Theocracy. Their gods were not the only beings that possessed transcendental power. A mere century after the advent of the Six Great Gods, the Eight Greed Kings had set the world aflame. After that…

Ludmila swallowed as her eyes rested on the back of His Majesty. Dread settled upon her being as she considered the past.

“Your Majesty…”

“Hm?”

“You’ve raised a new nation here…does that mean you are here to stay?”

“…”

Sudden tears blurred Ludmila’s vision. Why did he hesitate to answer? Frustration over her powerlessness welled up within her. She could do nothing if he decided to leave. She would do anything for him to stay. Not just for herself, but for the people of E-Rantel who had kept the faith through centuries of adversity.

Beside His Majesty, Shalltear blinked and looked up at him. A rare look of fearful worry filled her face. Minutes passed before the rustle of silken fabrics sounded over the current. The hem of the Sorcerer King’s robe entered her downcast gaze.

“There is something I would like to ask, Lady Zahradnik,” he said. “What is a god to you?”

She licked her lips nervously at the unexpected question. Why was he asking this? Was it some sort of test?

“They…they are beings of great power, Your Majesty. Far beyond that which mere mortals might obtain.”

His Majesty snorted.

“Is that all? Power? Many beings possess great power. Does that make them all gods?”

Ludmila looked past His Majesty, to the Elementals clearing their way. Truth be told, that was how it was. Beings of sufficient power were invariably perceived as gods who had descended upon the world. The Water Elemental Monoliths would be considered water gods if one did not understand that they were summoned creatures.

Gods were not guaranteed to be good or evil. Sometimes they were worshipped as divine benefactors. Other times, they were harbingers of calamity or simply treated as a force of nature. The Demon Gods were the most recent ones of note, along with the Dragon God who brought the tale of the Thirteen Heroes to an end.

No matter who he claimed to be, the Sorcerer King would be seen as a god to simple beings such as herself. As would Lady Shalltear and many of the Sorcerer King’s vassals. His Majesty’s question confused her – it was common sense for nearly everyone, yet he seemed to have some other notion in mind.

“I will put it another way,” the Sorcerer King said. “There exist great religions that perform works in the name of their gods. The clergy of these faiths would have you believe that these gods of theirs are not simply beings of great power. Do the faithful not believe in the almighty power of their gods? That they may create or destroy on a whim? That they are omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent?”

“I…I’ve never heard of any god like that before, Your Majesty. Gods are certainly powerful enough to do many things, but they cannot do everything.”

She glanced up at His Majesty. Sometimes, people might think that the gods had answers to the problems that vexed them and prayed for miracles, but that was only wishful thinking. What he had said seemed so silly that would have treated it as a joke if not for his serious tone.

He remained silent, and Ludmila wracked her memories for any knowledge that might satisfy him. All she knew of the gods, however, were what was conveyed in the scriptures. Surely he was not interested in that. Yet, she spoke anyway, desperate to produce the answer that he sought.

“Our scriptures are filled with the knowledge of the gods,” her voice was tentative, “but they say very little about the gods themselves. Only that their advent ensured humanity’s survival and that they dwelled amongst us. The gods even had children: born out of unions with Human partners. More to the point, the gods were Humans themselves. Except for Surshana…”

An uninvited thought wandered into her mind. Five of the gods had children with the Humans that they dwelled with, and traces of divine blood flowed through many in the present day. Maybe His Majesty had come to even the score? Lady Shalltear was quite confident that His Majesty could give her children.

If so, what did that entail for Ludmila, who was Undead as well? Was it part of the reason why she had been allowed to return? A divine purpose? The blood of the other gods probably flowed through millions, so catching up seemed a daunting task.

No…as Undead, she had a limitless lifespan. Maybe she could raise a few children every other generation?

“Two or three at a time might be nice…” She murmured to herself.

“Huh?”

“I-it’s nothing, Your Majesty.”

She looked back down, realising she had been staring at His Majesty for too long. It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts again.

“To be honest,” she said, “I’m not sure if I possess the answer that Your Majesty is looking for. Five of our gods were Human, and that nothing is said of their private lives suggests they lived as regular Humans do. The sixth and greatest was Undead, but he was not an evil god as many might believe an Undead god to be. He had some pretty evil lesser gods who followed him, however.”

Even that part was the same. The Sorcerer King had many servants who would be seen as evil by Humans. Shalltear was essentially a lesser god who served him, and she was quite proud of her evil nature. Despite her tendency to favour an evil approach to things, however, she was an excellent liege in whom Ludmila could trust and proudly serve.

“So in your mind,” His Majesty said, “a god can be ignorant, make mistakes and fail?”

“I am not an expert on the nature of gods, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “But descended gods surely do all that and more. They can love and laugh and cry; feel sorrow and regret. They are people with interests of their own, and with their power, many whims and desires would surely be fulfilled. If they choose a mortal form, they can grow old and die. It is even possible for gods to be banished by other powerful beings, as the histories tell.”

She swallowed after the words spilt from her mouth. The last was not something that followers of The Six liked to dwell upon. Merely a century following their gods’ advent, the Eight Greed Kings arrived and committed the Grave Sin: forcefully taking Surshana – the merciful god who had stayed with humanity – away from them.

“Then they are, as you seem to put it, just powerful people.”

Ludmila nodded.

“If that is the case,” the Sorcerer King asked, “why are they ‘gods’? How do these powerful beings transcend conventional recognition to become subjects of worship?”

“It would depend on the god,” Ludmila answered. “Respect. Gratitude. Fear. Something greater than themselves. Those would probably be the common reasons. The Six Great Gods represent aspects of Human life. Since they were mostly Humans, it is easy for us to see ourselves in them. As for worship…it does not just mean tithes, hymns and prayer. How we live our lives serves as the principal form of worship. For a Noble who follows The Six, administration, leadership and the delivery of justice according to the precepts of our faith is all a form of worship. Ours is not a shallow, empty faith: it is one intertwined with every fibre of our existence.

“I suppose that, for one who is accustomed to their power, the notion that others might come to worship them seems strange. For us, however…they are so far above our regular lives that we cannot even grasp the furthest extent of their being. ‘Conventional recognition’, as Your Majesty puts it, cannot even grasp how strong a Platinum-rank Adventurer is. The tales of Heroes and Legends utterly fail to convey the realities that come with their power. An existence far beyond even those…what else can such a being be called, but a god?”