Chapitre 20: Chapter 20
{ I'm not sure If I like my muscle mommy look. } Buku commented, inspecting her reflection in the makeshift mirror formed by a piece of polished metal before her. Her current form, chosen with the blessing of Thrall, designed to blend in with the orcs of Orgrimmar, was a far cry from her usual elegant and more traditionally lady-like demeanor. The orcish visages they had adopted were both imposing and crude, with bulging muscles and a rugged appearance that screamed violence that contrasted sharply with her more familiar, refined self. The Warchief was adamant about keeping good relations. Their well-hidden escort was composed of the most level headed yet high-rank agents Thrall could offer to ensure no conflicts arose within his domain during their travels.
{ I think you look nice, especially in this outfit. } Ainz complimented her, his voice warm with genuine affection. He had opted for a similar orcish appearance, loaded with even more muscle, though his demeanor remained as serene as ever. The pair strolled through the bustling streets of Orgrimmar, internally sighing with relief at not standing out anymore. The place was scalding hot, the oppressive heat of the midday sun had turned the dusty roads into a shimmering mirage. Most of the city's inhabitants had adapted to the sweltering temperatures through various ways they too had quickly adopted. The inhabitants preferred lighter clothing in weight and color, with men wearing only pants and boots and women donning thin skirts or leather vests that barely covered their various colors of skin, if at all.
{ I could be a block of stone and you would say that. } Buku remarked, tilting her head, a playful glint in her eyes as she stuck out her tongue with a cheeky expression that didn't quite fit in with her current brutish form.
Ainz chuckled softly, his voice carrying a note of genuine amusement. { That did come with a job description. Besides, what man would want to get in trouble with his wife by choosing poor answers? }
{ Fair point. } Buku replied, her eyes scanning the road ahead with a glint of curiosity of the new and unknown. { By the way, what are we doing today? There isn't anything particularly interesting in this city. Just huts strung along the valleys. It'll get old before midday. } Her frustration was palpable as she surveyed the simple, utilitarian architecture of Orgrimmar. The structures, composed of rough-hewn stone and wooden planks, lacked the intricate beauty and history of the cities they had previously visited. This was because the capital was less than four years old, without any historical monuments or architectural marvels of centuries. To be frank, it was more a massive defensive, durable camp than the lauded capital of a powerful kingdom.
Ainz contemplated their options.{ Not sure. Maybe we can find a shop that sells books about orcish history and magic they use. The Alliance sources clearly have a bias, and I'd prefer a more objective view of these magics. } He began to scan the surrounding area for any signs of libraries or bookstores, his eyes sharp and observant.
{ Sure, we can just go for a walk. } Buku agreed.
For a little over an hour they navigated the city, weaving through the throngs of orcs engaged in their daily routines, whatever they were. The city's atmosphere was a mix of bustling activity and harsh reality - stalls selling strange and exotic goods from far corners of the Horde's lands, glowing herbs and twisted talismans made by aspiring shamans, orcs arguing and brawling loudly over deals, and the occasional roar of a creature being led through the streets. The sight of numerous black wolves tethered to posts, their glossy coats reflecting the sun's glare, added a touch of wildness to the scene, that even humanity's finely bred horses were useless here. Yet despite the bustling activity, they found nothing of interest, save for a few blacksmith shops selling weapons and armor, the forge fires casting an orange glow that only intensified the oppressive heat nearby. As the sun crept higher and the day got hotter, the streets, once teeming with life, began to empty as the locals sought refuge in the shadows, haggles becoming whispers and traveling packs becoming smaller. The heat pressed down like a heavy hand on them all, turning the streets into an oven, and the air was thick with the scent of smoke and dust. It was a far cry from the cool, shaded confines of more sophisticated locales in the Alliance.
Deciding to follow the locals' lead, Ainz and Buku made their way to a district hidden within a shadowy, cave-like valley. The natural rock walls provided much-needed relief from the sun's scorching rays, and the air was cooler, though it carried a faint, earthy smell with it. This part of the city felt different; quieter, more secluded, with an undercurrent of something darker lurking just out of sight. With Thrall's escort ensuring they weren't bothered, there was little reason to believe they would be harassed by local lowlives.
As they stepped into the cool shadows, a raspy voice greeted them, "Ah, fresh blood. Come, browse, browse."
The owner of the voice was an old orc who seemed to materialize from the darkness of a nearby hut, muscled as always. He was hunched over, his back bent under the weight of years and hardships, and he supported himself with a crooked staff that appeared as ancient as he did. His skin was greyish-green, mottled with patches of what appeared to be rot, giving him a macabre, almost undead appearance. One of his tusks was broken halfway, the jagged edge a stark contrast to the other, which was chipped and worn down with age. His eyes, milky white and lifeless, seemed to stare into the void, yet they tracked Ainz and Buku with unsettling precision as he stared straight at them. The unnaturally thin form of the once strong man glowed faintly with a sickly green hue, as if some evil force had taken root in his very being, replacing who he was within. He motioned with a gnarled hand toward a pile of dusky and worn-down books with cracked spines and yellowed pages, piles of skulls, and magical trinkets dropped haphazardly on a long table inside a hut.
"Warlock. Do not bother the Warchief's guests." The leader of their escort barked at the old orc as he stepped beside Ainz, the rest of the escort surrounding the decrepit orc
The old orc gave a wheezing laugh that quickly dissolved into a fit of cough. "I am but a merchant, my days of using fel magic are long gone," he rasped. "These honorable guests," he added, his milky eyes shifting to Ainz and Buku, "carry an aura of magic around them. Why not learn about the dangers from books so they do not repeat the mistakes we made?".
Ainz saw the value in the warlock's words, "It is better to learn from the mistakes of others," he mused out loud."I am interested in the history of your people, Old one."
"Browse then. But be warned, the knowledge within leads to corruption. Only the strongest can wield such magic and not get enslaved by them, as you can see." The old orc motioned with his old, half-bony hand to the pile of ancient books and knick knacks.
Ainz approached the table, his gaze sharp as he examined the items, Buku choosing to hang back instead. He reached out to touch one of the ancient tomes, the leather cover cool and rough under his fingers. "Interesting collection," he remarked, his voice calm, though laced with curiosity. "These are such... unique artifacts." Ainz produced a pair of translation glasses from the pocket and skimmed over the selection. The titles he uncovered were as dark as they were fascinating: On Raising the Dead, Warding Against Demons, and The Chains of Enslavement. Each tome promised to delve into the most forbidden of magics, their pages filled with the kind of knowledge that would drive lesser minds to madness. Ainz's expression remained impassive, though he couldn't help but feel a spark of interest at the sight. These were books on fel or the demonic energies no mage would dare to use, fearing the terrible cost such power required. While according to sources the arcane and elemental magics were addicting if overused and the body could grow dependent on magical energies, fel ate away at both the soul and body of mortal beings, a far worse fate for its users, hence why almost nobody touched them. The addiction could be weaned, a worn soul could not.
But one book stood out from the rest, its presence demanding attention from his magical mind. The tome was pristine, its cover a gleaming expanse of scaly leather, embroidered with strange, unknown metals that glinted faintly in the dim light. He picked it up with care, the weight of the book surprising in its solidity. Opening the first page, he found the title written in a script that was neither Orcish nor any language he had yet encountered so far in their travels. Still, with the help of his translation glasses, the title eventually revealed itself: Tome of Summoning.
"That one," the old orc rasped, shuffling closer with the aid of his crooked staff, the wood tapping against the stone floor with each labored step as he pushed aside the escorts, "should only be read and never used. The demons mentioned are powerful ones, a singular warlock would not enslave them but fall to their might."
"Why sell these books if the information within is dangerous," Ainz inquired. There was something suspicious about the warlock, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly triggered his paranoia. For him, this information wouldn't be dangerous. He already had spells that summoned both the undead and demons and even some that raised the dead, these should do little to him, if anything at all.
"To eat. I am too old to work. The power has left these old bones, a punishment for the crimes of the past." The old orc laughed bitterly, shaking his staff.
Ainz decided quickly, his voice confident as he spoke, "How much for all of the books?" He had no intention of haggling over the details, acquiring knowledge was his priority and sorting through it later was a task he relished. He had coin in spades and then some, enough to fill entire castles if he wanted.
The old warlock's eyes gleamed with a hint of greed, continuing, "Ten gold. Five if you let me keep this one." His gnarled finger shakily tapped the book Ainz held in his hands.
Ainz narrowed his crimson eyes slightly, his disguised face impassive, 'Reluctance to sell is such an overused sales trick.' he thought as he held the book up, examining it with an air of casual disinterest as he shifted, moving like he wanted to put it down. "Sure, you can keep it. I wouldn't pay more than gold for it anyway. Five is far too much no matter what is written in it." His tone was clipped, as he handed back the book and stared the old orc down to show him he had no intention of falling for his tactics, instead reaching for the others.
The old orc's face remained impassive, but there was a brief flicker in his cloudy eyes, a sign that Ainz's dismissive attitude had struck a nerve, "Seven Gold for everything then," the warlock countered without skipping a beat.
"Agreed," Ainz replied without hesitation. He reached into his pocket and fished out seven Yggdrasil coins, the polished metal glittering in the dim light of the creaking hut. The coins were unlike any the old orc had likely seen before, their weight and craftsmanship suggesting a value beyond the ordinary. Still, Ainz handed them over with the ease of a man who had just paid for a loaf of bread with just a few coppers. The local moneykeepers they had encountered earlier had assured him that Yggdrasil coins were just as valuable as the Horde's coins, if not more, thus they could be used without the need to exchange them. If anything, they would be slightly overpaying if they wanted to get maximal value, but that was fine for Ainz.
The warlock's bony fingers clutched the coins tightly, his lips curling into a satisfied, if slightly crooked, smile, sliding them into his pockets. As he did, Ainz casually opened his inventory, a small rift in space appearing before him as the books vanished into the void one by one, their physical forms dissolving into shimmering particles before disappearing completely. Considering how much attention they had already received, hiding this ability wasn't needed anymore, it could be attributed to them being "strong" and no one would question it. In the grand scheme of things, putting items in a pocket dimension likely wasn't that big of a deal. There was a similar spell mentioned in one of the books about arcane magics, the one he knew was just … slightly unique.
The warlock's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his composed exterior briefly cracking at the sight of such magic. But he quickly regained his composure, offering a raspy chuckle. "Pleasure doing business. Come again in a month and I might have the new selection." With a dismissive wave of his gnarled hand, he shooed them away, as if eager to be rid of them, melting back to the shadows.
As Ainz and Buku stepped back into the sun-soaked streets of Orgrimmar, the oppressive heat hit them like a wave; they had been in the dark just long enough that their bodies had finally stopped sweating only to feel the brunt of the sun once more. The stark contrast between the cool shadows of the cave-like district and the sweltering sunlight was jarring. Buku glanced over her shoulder at the hut they had just exited, "That guy gave me the creeps," she admitted, her usually confident voice tinged with unease.
"Our guards didn't seem to like him either," Ainz noted, his gaze shifting to the orcish escorts who had been shadowing them the entire time. Their tense posture and narrowed eyes hadn't escaped his notice. He turned to address one of them directly whose tension had melted away the moment they had stepped out of the crevice, "Can I ask why you dislike that old salesman?"
The orc, a grizzled warrior with a face marked by deep scars and eyes that had seen too much, hesitated for a moment before speaking. His voice was low and gravelly, weighted with memories of a painful past, "Warlocks sold us to demons. Their foul magic turned us into monsters. I was a young pup when they gave me the demon blood… Dark times. Not proud of what I did." the orc turned away, his face twitching in barely contained anger, pent-up rage left unanswered roiling behind his eyes.
The orc's words hung heavy in the air for all of them. His hands, large and calloused from years of battle, clenched into fists at his sides, as if he were fighting to keep those dark memories at bay.
Ainz bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect and apology for the orcs, "I see. I apologize for bringing up the topic."
"No, it's better you know." The orc replied as he shook his head. "A lot of blood on our hands. Those books, get rid of them when you can. Burn them somewhere. They will only bring ruin."
Ainz met the orc's gaze, his own expression thoughtful, "My interest in the topic is purely academic. I hoped to find out more about the culture and history of your people, nothing more. If it helps prevent the destruction of your lands and people, so be it." he explained, though he knew there was more to his curiosity than just academic interest. Knowledge was power, and Ainz Ooal Gown the undead mage and high-ranking player was always in search of more power.
The orc sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years, "We old ones want to forget, but justice and honor demands that we never do. If you want to know about my people, I will-"
A sudden, ear-splitting roar tore through the air, cutting off the orc's words. It was a sound that shook the very ground beneath their feet, reverberating through the city like the toll of a dozen grand bells. Ainz's head snapped up, his eyes widening as he spotted the source of the roar - a massive creature diving straight toward them from the sky.
'Is that… a Dragon?' The thought raced through Ainz's mind, Buku confirming she thought the same. The beast was enormous, its scales glowing like molten metal in the harsh sunlight as it approached ever closer. Each powerful beat of its wings sent gusts of hot wind swirling through the streets and buildings, scattering dust, debris, and people in every direction.
Without a moment's hesitation, Buku stepped in front of Ainz, her body moving with instinctual speed. She activated her shield, a shimmering barrier of energy flickering into existence around them in an instant. Despite her formidable strength and confidence, Ainz could see the slight tremor in her frame, a reminder of just how serious this threat could be.
Dragons in Yggdrasil had always been formidable enemies, their strength and cunning making them some of the most dangerous opponents in-game. Even the lower-level ones required a strategic approach and significant effort to defeat them, even for higher-level players who had multitudes of abilities, items, and experiences on their side. Ainz knew that it was better to be on the safe side and assume this creature posed an immense danger and act accordingly and thus began his own preparations.
The Dragon was upon them in seconds, its massive form blotting out the sun as it descended from above. Its eyes, burning like twin suns, locked onto Ainz and Buku with a predatory gleam. The beast opened its massive jaws as it lunged down, revealing many rows of jagged teeth, each one the size of a longsword, and then it unleashed a torrent of orange flames.
The heat was overwhelming, a blistering wave that turned the air into a searing furnace for all those nearby. But Ainz, relying on his now superior reflexes, cast [Skeleton Wall]. Instantly, a towering barrier of skeletal bones locked together in a defensive stance materialized in front of them. This spell was expensive, draining a notable amount of Ainz's magical power, but it was designed for moments like this, though far less than it should considering what percentage of his total mana the spell took in the game.
The Dragon's flames attack shattered the wall a few moments later, and the beast whizzed by and ascended to prepare for another attack. Below, the flames from its initial assault had spread to the nearby huts, setting them ablaze. The screams of terrified orcs echoed through the streets, mixing with the crackling of burning wood and collapsing structures.
{ I will use [Grasp Heart] on it! We can't hold back now! } Ainz warned Buku, ready to use his signature spell, a devastating attack that could stun strong opponents and outright kill the weaker ones, bypassing most resistances.
{ Wait! Prepare another bone wall. I think I can hit it down from the sky. Don't show your instant kill spell. This might be just a scout. } Buku shouted in his mind.
{ Good point! } Aizn agreed, his thoughts quickly realigning with her strategy. He began to ready another bone wall, his focus on ensuring that they wouldn't be caught off guard by a potential follow-up attack, casting detection magics in all directions.
The Dragon, seemingly unaware of the trap being laid for it, began its descent once more, declaring their deaths with its roar. Its jaws opened wide, preparing to unleash another devastating flame burst that would burn what remained in the area to the ground. But this time, Buku was ready. With a swift and powerful motion, she hurled her shield with deadly proficiency, accuracy, and speed. The shield, a gleaming disc of reinforced metal, sliced through the air with a whistle, spinning with such force that it seemed to blur out of existence the moment it left her hand. It struck the Dragon square in the chest, the impact resounding like a thunderclap. The force of the blow was enough to knock the massive beast off balance, lodging itself in the monster's chest. It let out a pained roar as its body did a full flip in the air, its wings wildly flailing as it struggled to right itself. But gravity wasn't on its side as it plummeted from the skies, its back flipped towards the ground. The creature crashed into a hut, shattering it into pieces, debris exploding in all directions.
Buku's eyes lit up with excitement as she saw the beast struggling to breathe, its great chest heaving as it gasped for air, "Bullseye!" She shouted. Without hesitation, she charged toward the fallen Dragon, her footsteps rapidly pounding against the scorched stone. Despite her speed, she wasn't using her full power, and the distance between them closed with deliberate intent as she drew her blade.
Ainz wasn't idle. He raised a hand, casting a powerful debuff. '[Triple Maximize Magic: Slow]' he intoned, draining a bit more of his magic. The spell spread through the air like an invisible fog, attempting to wrap around the Dragon's form. For a moment, the creature's movements faltered, but it quickly shook off the full effect of the spell, its wings flailing once more. 'Huh, partly resisted?' Ainz mused, a slight frown creasing his brow. The Dragon's resilience was impressive.
The Dragon formed magical circles around its claws, trying to shield himself from further magical attacks. Ainz contemplated using another high-tier spell but hesitated since the beast was already wounded on the ground and Buku had almost reached it, she could be caught up in the AOE.
As Buku neared, her sword gleamed brilliantly in the harsh light. The Dragon, sensing danger, tried to shift its head away, but Buku was too quick. The sword landed firmly on the beast's neck. Yet the high-tier sword proved not to be enough as it shattered against the thick scales.
The Dragon's wheezing grew louder, its breath rattling as the inflicted damage within prevented him from breathing, trying to recover its health.
"Ainz! Magical Sword!" Buku shouted, extending her hand towards him as she stabbed downward once more.
Ainz didn't hesitate. '[Create magical item: Sword]' he cast as an obsidian black curved flamberge materialized in his hand. He hurled the blade towards Buku, which she caught mid-air with the grace of a seasoned and practiced warrior, her movements fluid and precise. Without hesitation, she swung it down onto the Dragon's neck once more. This time, the blade bit deep, smoothly cleaving through scale, flesh, and bone. The Dragon's head separated from its body, rolling away from the massive corpse, which twitched once more before falling still.
The rampage was finally over, the beast dead. It would terrorize the orcs no more. The fight had been quick, but the damage around them would take a long time to repair.
Ainz rushed over to Buku, concern overtaking him as he saw her panting, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah." she replied, "Damn, our first Dragon, and a big one at that. We need better equipment." Buku added with a chuckle, pretending they didn't already have inventories full of legendary and divine tier items that could probably raze entire cities to the ground if in the wrong hands and that her husband wasn't already planning to pour over their combined inventories for optimal equipment usage.
"That we do." Ainz agreed, a knowing smile spreading across his lips. With a wave of his hand, he cast the fifth-tier spell [Frozen Mist, summoning a swirling cloud of icy vapor around him. The mist spread quickly, dousing the flames that had begun to consume the nearest buildings. The rest of the street was on fire and in a scorching hot desert environment it would end with the entire city burning down in flames if they failed to contain it, hence the quick action needed.
As he contemplated whether to cast the sixth-tier spell [Change Weather] to stop the spreading fires from blazing even further, a shimmering wave caught his eye. Out of nowhere, a group of water elementals appeared and with playful dances began dousing the blazes. Their bodies swirled in the air as the cool water hissed and sizzled when it met the scorching fire. A moment later, fire elementals appeared and joined the fray, their forms absorbing and extinguishing the remaining fires and embers completely.
Amid this, Ainz noticed Thrall appear nearby, riding on his black wolf, a sizable escort of orc warriors at his side, charging right at him and Buku. The Warchief reigned in his mount sharply as he reached the Dragon's massive corpse, his face etched with disbelief as he hopped off his wolf with practiced ease.
"Do Dragon attacks happen often?" Ainz inquired, approaching the orc leader alongside Buku. The dead Dragon, sprawled across the wreckage of the hut it had crushed, was a daunting sight. It was over twenty meters long, not even counting the long, spiked tail that trailed behind.
Thrall's gaze swept over the scene before locking onto Ainz, his blue eyes narrow and the grip on the hammer tightening. "No," he replied, "We have never faced a Dragon attack. It must have come for you two."
"Hey, we killed the thing!" Buku snapped, crossing her arms defensively. It was easy to see that Thrall wanted to pin the attack on them and she wasn't having any of it.
Thrall's eyes flicked to her, his expression unreadable. "I can see that," he acknowledged. "A feat the greatest of orcs would see as a right to boast. Do you have any idea why such a beast might have been after you?" Thrall asked. The elementals nearby closed in, surrounding him. He turned his head towards the closest one, peering into it.
Buku glanced at the Dragon's massive form, now lying still in the rubble. "Someone wants to get rid of us, that's for sure, but I have no idea who could have a Dragon just lying around to send after us. That is, if it came after us in the first place, we've never been attacked by Dragons before," she added, nudging the Dragon's corpse with the toe of her boot.
Thrall's gaze softened slightly as he turned to one of the elementals hovering nearby. "The spirits believe you and I am inclined to agree with them. It still raises the question of why the Dragon attacked, but that is a question we can seek answers for later. As the ones who killed the Dragon, its corpse is yours." Thrall stated, relaxing his stance.
The spirits, having extinguished the fires, began to retreat back to the skies, their work done. Shamans and witch doctors began tending to the wounded and aiding those whose homes had been damaged or destroyed, hurriedly rescuing who they could. Miraculously, it seemed there were only a few casualties as well.
{ What are we doing with the Dragon corpse? } Ainz asked Buku. The remains of the slain beasts no doubt cost a fortune, and its materials could be used to create powerful armor and weapons even by Yggdrasil standards.
{ We could keep the head and maybe some scales, and for the rest either sell or donate to orcs depending on how heroic we want to appear in their eyes. Thrall is liking us less and less it seems. } Buku responded.
{ Hmm, we could go with that. If we want to have further relations with the Horde, it would be beneficial to leave a good impression. } Ainz agreed.
"We will take the head and the scales," Ainz announced. "I think the rest can be distributed to people who lost their homes in this attack."
Thrall eyed Ainz briefly in surprise, doing his best to hide his surprise. "A noble proposition," he replied, his tone more respectful. "On behalf of my people, I thank you."
Ainz nodded, accepting the gratitude with a slight bow. Putting the Dragon's head into his inventory was an easy task, the massive skull disappearing into the purplish swirl with ease. Thrall, now more at ease, promised to deal with the Dragon's corpse, already barking out orders for more soldiers to arrive. With the matter settled, Ainz and Buku were escorted back to Grommash Hold to rest and stay out of the public eye while Thrall dealt with the aftermath of the Dragon's attack.
Editing by NabeisWaifu and aidan_lo.
Proofreading by IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, Malguis, and aidan_lo.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
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