章節 6: Chapter 6
Itami lead along with the caravan of refugees, his mind swimming in fatigue and frustration.
"This trek is endless,"he thought. 'Slow, painful, and riddled with setbacks.' Injuries mounted by the hour, and the number of villagers giving up seemed to grow with every step.
Itami sighed. Venting was all he could do. After all, this wasn't his style of living. His personal motto—Eat, sleep, play, repeat. Life is everything in between—mocked him now. This ordeal was the very definition of suffering.
The villagers' faces bore the weight of despair. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs, thirst parched their throats, and exhaustion clung to their very bones. The cries of abandoned infants pierced the heavy silence. Their parents had left them behind in their desperation to survive. Bloodied villagers limped along from road accidents, while the sun beat down relentlessly, baking the mud beneath their feet. The mud caked their clothes and shoes, a grim reminder of their struggle.
Itami's gaze drifted to a stranded carriage, its wheels stuck fast in the muck. The family sat nearby, the father cradling a child as he begged passing villagers for help. But no one stopped. The villagers had nothing left to give—not their strength, nor their compassion. Blank faces passed by, unwilling to meet the man's eyes.
Dropping out of the caravan was tantamount to a death sentence. Food and water were scarce, and wild beasts and bandits would claim them before long. Abandon or be abandoned—this was survival.
Someone please help.
Such prayers were meaningless.
Someone please help.
The gods would not offer salvation.
They would not come to help, and would simply stand there and watch from above.
Someone… Someone please help.
Like tyrants, the gods ordered them to die.
That was why the only ones who could save men were other men.
The men wearing green gathered before the immobile carriage. If it was just the wheels stuck in the mud, they could still help.
"Alright, we're going to push!" a voice called. Soldiers gathered around the stranded carriage, straining against the mud until the wheels broke free. The family's grateful cries went unnoticed as the soldiers returned to their humming machines, which were unlike anything the villagers had ever seen.
The villagers whispered among themselves, eyes wide.
Who were these men? They weren't from this village or even this land. They had appeared without warning, offering aid and delivering warnings of danger. Their actions spoke of a kindness that was almost alien—smiling, encouraging, helping where they could. And yet, when the caravan's burdens proved too much, they made brutal decisions.
The soldiers and the village chief approached another family whose cart had collapsed under its load. Itami watched as the chief convinced them to leave their belongings behind. The family hesitated, clinging to their possessions— it was the food they lived off and their wealth. How would they survive if they lose these? But the chief still made them abandon their luggage, and in order to remove their hesitation, the men in green suggested burning the luggage. With their belongings burned, they had no choice but to go on. What about tomorrow? The day after tomorrow? With no hope in sight, they could only take one step at a time in tears.
"Burn it," one soldier commanded.
The flames devoured the family's belongings, their last ties to stability. Tears streamed down their faces as they trudged forward with empty hands.
"Itami, why are we doing this?" Kurokawa asked, her voice tinged with unease.
Itami scratched the back of his head, a wry smile on his lips. "If their stuff is right in front of them, they won't let go. Burning it forces them to move on."
"Can't we request more transport?" Kurokawa pressed.
Itami sighed, glancing at the convoy. "We're deep in enemy territory. Sending more units would provoke a response we can't handle. An engagement would only escalate things and drag the villagers into the crossfire. So, this is all we can do. Help where we can, and hope it's enough."
Kurokawa nodded reluctantly, though the doubt in her eyes lingered.
When the refugees from Koda village reached this area, the sun was at its peak.
Leading the wagon train was the HMV of the third recon platoon.
However, it was moving at a walking pace, since the villagers behind were on foot, along with mules and farm horses pulling the wagons. Maybe walking would be even faster than this. "But… Can't we go any faster?"
Sergeant Kurata complained. "I haven't driven this slowly since driving school." If he pressed too hard on the accelerator, he would leave the wagon train behind. Kurata moved by using the inertia of the auto gear, simply holding the steering wheel without stepping on the pedal.
Reflected in the rear view mirror was a child grabbing the driver seat from behind and looking to the front. The HMV was full of children and the injured who couldn't walk anymore. It was the same for theToyota Type 73 medium truckbehind, its bench was filled with casualties and pregnant women.
Of course, the dangerous weapons, ammunitions and food had all been shifted to the HMV.
Itami studied the terrain map made from aerial photographs, watching the horizon with his binoculars. He compared the terrain with his current position, calculating the distance they had travelled and how much further they had to go. He recorded road conditions and their steepness.
These were not the only things he wrote down as the flow of rivers and vegetation were also important information.
"That's weird, ravens are circling around there."
After answering 'You're right.' to Kurata casually, Itami looked forward with his binoculars again.
He then discovered a girl squatting by the side of the road, surrounded by ravens.
"A Goth Loli?" That's a costume he often saw during events and in areas such as Harajuku.
There were many differing views on what was Goth, but Itami was certain the clothing fashion style of the girl was that of a Goth Loli. She was between twelve to fourteen years old. She looked very attractive, a real beauty. A girl like that was squatting at the side of an empty road, her black jewel like eyes staring this way without even blinking.
"Woah, a life size ball-jointed doll?" Kurata commented after watching through his binoculars. That girl was like an inorganic doll with no seams. No matter how much he wanted, Kurata couldn't just drive off to look at that girl.
The wagon train from Koda was advancing as slowly as the entrance to a doujinshi convention, the second hand of the clock would turn five rounds before the HMV reach that girl. Itami decided to send Katsumoto and Furuta to go ahead on foot to check her out.
Judging from her dress, she looked more like some Japanese girl kidnapped during the Ginza incident than a native here. When Katsumoto and Furuta tried to converse with her, they seemed unable to communicate. The squatting girl looked like a runaway ignoring the questions of two rookie cops. When the wagon train reached the girl, she stood up as if she had been kept waiting, dusting off the dirt on her dress, easily picking up her huge halberd and walking alongside the HMV.
"Hey, where did you come from, and where are you going?" The girl spoke the local language.
Itami and the others couldn't converse fluently with her. They could only squeeze out a few sentences after flipping through their book of phrases which took the place of a dictionary. Katsumoto and Furuta shrugged and kept walking.
The one filling in the gaps in their conversation was a boy about seven who was sitting in the tiny space between Kurata and Itami.
"We are from Coda Village, Onee-san."
"Hmm~? What about these people in the strange outfits?
"I don't really know, but they are nice people helping us."
The girl walked a circle around the HMV that was moving at walking pace.
"So they are not forcing you to go along?"
"No, a Flame Dragon came and they're helping us escape."
Itami's group simply listened with an uncertain expression, exhibiting typical Japanese behaviour.
Itami sent Furuta and Katsumoto to take care of the villagers at the back, deciding to question the girl himself. He checked his phrase book, and waited for the dialogue between the boy and the girl to stop before asking.
"I wonder how this thing moves?"
"I'd like to know as well. But I don't understand what they are saying… But riding in it feels much better than a carriage!"
"So~ riding in it feels good?"
Before he could even stop her, the Goth Loli boarded the HMV from Itami's passenger side. She strode over Itami's knees. There were no doors, so she entered easily.
The HMV could seat ten adults.
The seats at the front faced forward, while the back seat faced the center. There was enough space to store equipment in the center. If they could ignore traffic rules like now, it was possible to load twenty children in.
However, there were already plenty of luggage, children and elderly on the vehicle, it was as packed as a train during the morning rush hour. The girl who entered while saying 'excuse me' wasn't welcomed by the villagers. They didn't state their reluctance openly, but still showed a troubled expression.
"Hey, it's cramped, Onee-san."
"Ah~ wait a moment."
It was already a tight fit, and on top of that, she brought something so long in with her.
The halberd was long and heavy. No matter how she positioned it, the halberd would touch someone's head or face causing them to shrink away because it was cramped inside the HMV. As a result, it was placed onto the floor of the vehicle.
She then looked for a place to sit, but there wasn't any space. With no other choice, the girl sat on the knees of the man hogging the passenger seat.
"Hold it!"
Itami was dumbfounded at her sudden action.
He wanted to stop the black-clad Goth Loli, but if he touched somewhere dangerous, it could be painted as sexual harassment and trigger a huge incident, so he didn't. Because of the language barrier his protests and curses in Japanese like "Hey! Wait! Wait!", "Don't touch that", "Don't touch the pistol and fire extinguisher", "Get out first", "Wah, what the hell are you bringing along!" were ignored completely.
The place the girl sat down upon was his knees.
He had to shout "Hold it!" at this stage.
One side wanted to push the other away while the other side was fighting for a place to sit. The low class fighting thus began.
")$*DJ SIGA:($U) !"
"JRI AFMAK$))I$!"
And so, the struggle between two parties who couldn't communicate verbally ended with Itami giving half his seat away.
The elderly, women, and children in the vehicles were thrown back and forth as the convoy made sharp turns and sudden accelerations. Their heads and bodies collided with each other, bruises forming as they gritted their teeth to endure the pain. The rough ride made it nearly impossible to relax, every jolt a reminder of the chaos they were trying to escape.
Through the dust and movement, the view outside the vehicles was obscured by the masses of fleeing Coda villagers. They moved sluggishly, weighed down by their belongings and fear. Yet above all this, a dark shadow descended upon them—a harbinger of death.
It was the Flame Dragon.
The refugees had hoped they were beyond its hunting grounds after three grueling days of travel. But the dragon had followed them, driven by hunger and the unmistakable scent of human flesh. Though Coda Village and nearby settlements had been evacuated swiftly thanks to warnings from the JSDF, the slow pace of the exodus made them easy targets. Now, their worst fears had materialized.
The beast roared, its sound like a living thunderclap that froze the fleeing villagers in their tracks.
"Fighting monsters is the JSDF's tradition! Who'd have thought we'd be doing it here!" Sergeant Major Kuwabara bellowed, adrenaline coursing through him as he clung to the side of the vehicle. Turning to Kurata, he shouted, "RUN! MOVE!" The urgency in his voice was undercut by an almost manic energy, his words tinged with the thrill of the fight.
The dragon's massive wings beat the air, and with a terrifying grace, it swooped down toward the panicked refugees. Its enormous maw opened, ready to snatch its first victim.
"Suppressing fire! LAV! Shoot it with the machine gun!" Itami yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.
Private Sasagawa sprang into action, gripping the handles of the .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the Light Armored Vehicle (LAV). The weapon roared to life, spitting out a hailstorm of 12.7mm bullets. Black smoke filled the air as the thick cartridges clattered to the ground.
The rounds struck the dragon's scales, creating sparks but doing no visible damage. The creature's natural armor deflected the bullets as though they were nothing more than raindrops.
"It's useless!" Sasagawa shouted, his voice shaking with frustration.
"Don't stop!" Itami barked. "Just keep firing! Fire! Fire! Fire!"
While the bullets could not pierce the dragon's hide, they irritated the beast. Even the Flame Dragon, a predator born of nightmares, had nerves. The relentless barrage slowed its movements, and the farmer caught in its jaws managed to wriggle free, tumbling to the ground and scrambling to safety.
The dragon turned its attention to the JSDF soldiers, its singular eye gleaming with rage. The other eye, blinded by an old wound, was marked by a protruding arrow—a grotesque testament to past battles. Its terrifying visage was enough to sap the courage of even the bravest souls.
With a roar, the dragon unleashed a torrent of fire, the flames spreading like a wave of destruction. But the JSDF vehicles zigzagged wildly, narrowly avoiding the inferno.
Amid the chaos, a high-pitched voice rang out. "Ono! Yuniryu! Ono!"
Itami turned toward the sound. A golden-haired Elf stood behind them, her pale face framed by her flowing locks. She pointed at the dragon, gesturing emphatically toward her eyes as she repeated the same phrase.
Though her words were incomprehensible, her intent was clear.
"Go for the eyes!" Itami shouted to his men.
The soldiers adjusted their aim, directing their fire at the dragon's face. Bullets struck near its blinded socket, making the creature flinch. Though they could not injure it, the irritation forced it to turn its head away, momentarily halting its assault.
"Katsumoto! Bring out the Panzerfaust!" Itami commanded.
Sergeant Katsumoto hauled the heavy anti-tank rocket launcher from the LAV. The 100mm weapon, capable of punching through 700mm of rolled homogenous armor, was their best chance. He climbed atop the vehicle, bracing the launcher as best he could.
"Backblast clear!" Katsumoto called out, his training overriding the chaos around him.
"Hurry up and shoot!" someone muttered impatiently, but Katsumoto took his time, lining up the shot carefully.
The dragon began to flap its wings, preparing to take off. The LAV lurched forward to keep pace, throwing Katsumoto off balance and ruining his aim.
"Damn it! Azuma, hold it steady!" he shouted.
"Do you know what you're asking?!" Azuma snapped back, gripping the wheel as he tried to navigate the chaotic battlefield.
Katsumoto steadied himself once more. As the dragon began to rise, he fired. The rocket streaked through the air, flames trailing behind it.
The dragon twisted mid-flight, its sharp instincts allowing it to evade the projectile—or so it seemed.
From another vehicle, a black-clad figure emerged. The Gothic Lolita girl, her face calm despite the chaos, sliced a hole in the canvas of the truck. With a flourish, she hurled a massive halberd toward the dragon's leg. The weapon struck the ground, its shaft catching the dragon's foot and causing it to stumble.
The beast lost its balance and fell into the rocket's path. The explosive warhead struck true, detonating with a thunderous boom. The Neumann Effect tore through the dragon's tough scales, blasting a hole through its side. If the dragon's anatomy were human, it would have lost an entire arm.
The air filled with the beast's anguished roar, a sound so primal and powerful that it froze the battlefield. Even the JSDF soldiers faltered, their weapons lowering as their spirits wavered.
Seizing this opportunity, the Flame Dragon spread its massive wings wide, the sheer span casting an imposing shadow over the chaotic battlefield. Blood oozed from the wound on its side, dripping onto the scorched earth below, but it refused to relent. It flapped its wings with a desperate rhythm, each movement stirring powerful gusts of wind that forced soldiers to shield their eyes from dust and debris.
The dragon's efforts were labored, its movements unsteady as it fought against gravity. Its guttural growls resonated like thunder, and the turbulence from its wings threatened to topple nearby vehicles. With each strained beat, the Flame Dragon rose higher, slowly but surely gaining altitude. It seemed as though the battle would end with the dragon's retreat, leaving behind destruction and terror.
But the reprieve was short-lived.
As the dragon climbed, an ominous silence fell over the battlefield. A new presence had arrived—a palpable weight in the air, heavy with authority and power. Standing atop a nearby ridge, silhouetted against the fiery sky, was a figure clad in gleaming black armor. His crimson cloak billowed in the wind, and in his hand rested a massive greatsword, its blade reflecting an eerie light.
It was Momon, the Dark Hero, flanked by his team.
The sharp-eyed Nabe, her black hair glowing faintly in the dim light, stood to Momon's right, her staff crackling with magic. Beside her, Hamsuke, the giant hamster-like creature, growled with a surprising ferocity, its normally docile eyes now filled with resolve. Behind them, two others readied themselves, their weapons drawn and stances firm.
Momon raised his hand, his gauntleted fingers curling into a fist. The gesture was simple yet commanding, signaling his team to hold back. With deliberate steps, he moved toward the edge of the ridge, his sword resting on his shoulder.
The dragon, now a considerable height above the ground, turned its single good eye toward the approaching figures. A low, rumbling growl escaped its throat, a warning for the intruders to keep their distance. But it was fear that colored its gaze.
"Stay alert," Momon's deep, calm voice broke the silence, carrying over the distance with a strange clarity. "This Dragon is wounded, but it is far from defeated. "
The Flame Dragon roared in defiance, the sound rippling across the battlefield. It flapped its wings with renewed vigor, aiming to climb even higher, where it could launch another devastating attack. But Momon's crimson eyes gleamed beneath his helmet, and he sprang into action.
With a powerful leap, aided by an unnatural strength that defied logic, Momon launched himself into the air. His greatsword shone with a dark aura as he ascended, a streak of black and crimson against the orange-hued sky.
"Nabe, suppression!" Momon commanded mid-air, his voice sharp and decisive.
The air crackled as Nabe stepped forward, her staff alight with a storm of Magic. She raised it high, unleashing a volley of[lightning bolt]-A tier 2 magic - aimed directly at the dragon's wings. The electricity surged through the beast, eliciting a screech of pain as it faltered mid-flight. Smoke rose from the scorched scales, and the dragon wavered, struggling to maintain its ascent.
Capitalizing on the moment, Momon closed the distance in a single, fluid motion. With a roar of his own, he brought his greatsword down in a devastating arc, aimed directly at the dragon's exposed flank.
The blade met its target with a sickening crunch, cleaving through scales and flesh alike. Blood sprayed into the air as the dragon roared again, this time in agony. It spiraled downward, its balance disrupted by the crippling blow.
But the battle was far from over.
The dragon twisted mid-fall, snapping its jaws at Momon, who narrowly dodged the attack with an aerial maneuver that bordered on superhuman. He landed atop the dragon's back, driving his sword deep into its spine to steady himself. The beast thrashed violently, plummeting toward the ground with increasing speed.
"Nabe, cover me!" Momon shouted, his voice unwavering despite the chaos.
From below, Nabe began to cast another spell. She whispered the incantation for [Thunder Lance], another tier-two spell. A shimmering lance of pure electricity shot through the air, its brilliance blinding as it tore through one of the dragon's wings. The beast screeched, the torn wing now useless, and it hurtled toward the earth like a meteor.
As the Flame Dragon crashed into the ground, dust and debris erupted into the air, obscuring the battlefield. But the fight was not over.
Hamsuke charged forward with surprising speed, its massive claws slashing at the beast's unprotected underbelly. The dragon lashed out, its tail whipping violently, but the massive creature evaded with unexpected agility.
Momon, still perched on the dragon's back, tightened his grip on his embedded greatsword. The beast writhed beneath him, desperate to shake him off. Momon twisted the blade, driving it deeper into the creature's flesh. The dragon roared in agony, but Momon did not relent.
"This ends now," he growled, his voice filled with finality.
With a surge of strength, Momon pulled the sword free and swung it in a wide arc. The blade cut clean through the dragon's thick neck, severing its head from its body. Blood gushed like a crimson geyser, pooling around the massive corpse as the dragon's body finally stilled.
The battlefield was silent save for the heavy breathing of those who were watching. Momon leaped from the carcass, his black armor untouched by the bloodshed that surrounded him, and landed with a resounding thud.
"It's over," he said, his voice calm and unwavering.
=
Ainz Ooal Gown, the fearsome overlord of death and supreme ruler of Nazarick, maintained his regal and composed demeanor as he led his small group through the dense and twisting forest. The map in his hands should have made navigating this area a straightforward task. But to his growing frustration, it seemed the terrain did not match the map, or perhaps the map was just poorly made. 'No, no it's just me that can't read it' Regardless, the undeniable truth loomed: he was utterly lost.
Despite this, Ainz would never admit to such a failure outright. His pride—and the unwavering faith his subordinates had in his supreme wisdom—compelled him to pretend otherwise. He would occasionally stop, inspect the map, and give vague affirmations, such as:
"We'll take a slight detour to better survey the surroundings."
Behind him, Narberal Gamma, the ever-loyal battle maid and staunch follower, nodded earnestly, utterly convinced of her master's brilliance. Her sparkling eyes of admiration bore into Ainz's back as she silently praised his foresight. Ainz could feel her gaze and inwardly groaned, knowing that if he faltered, her disappointment would be palpable.
However, as the group pressed on and the surroundings grew even more unfamiliar, Ainz had no choice but to confront reality. They were hopelessly off-course.
"Narberal," Ainz began, his deep, commanding voice steady but begrudgingly laced with resignation, "we are... exploring alternate paths. I trust you can read this map." He extended the parchment toward her, hoping for a miracle.
Narberal's brows furrowed slightly as she took the map with reverence, her eyes scanning it meticulously. After a few moments, she hesitated. "Forgive me, Lord Ainz, but this map... I cannot decipher it."
Suppressing the urge to sigh, Ainz turned to the other member of their group: Hamsuke, the self-proclaimed Wise King of the Forest. He hesitated briefly, almost unwilling to pin his hopes on the massive, talking hamster. "Hamsuke," he said at last, "you've lived in woods like these for centuries. Can you guide us to the correct path?"
To his surprise—and mild relief—Hamsuke immediately nodded and snatched the map with her claws. "Of course, Lord Ainz! Follow closely, and I shall lead us to the correct path!" If Hamsuke also couldn't have read the map he would have to take the last approach and that would be to fly. That way he could easily know where he was located and by reading the map like that he would be able to follow the correct path.
Soon, the group encountered the sounds of commotion. Shouting voices echoed through the forest, interspersed with the deafening roar of a dragon. Emerging from the tree line, they spotted a massive fire dragon wreaking havoc on a group of humans wearing green military uniforms. Their vehicles, bore markings that seemed strikingly familiar.
The dragon lunged forward, only for a soldier to fire a rocket launcher directly at its arm. The explosion sent shockwaves through the air, blowing the limb apart. Ainz observed intently, calculating the weapon's power.
"Hmm. Equivalent to a third-tier fireball, perhaps," he mused aloud. "A decent strike for mundane weaponry, but ineffective against mid-tier or higher-level creatures. Even against low-level monsters like wraiths, specters, or other incorporeal foes, these weapons would be utterly useless."
Ainz continued to observe, his mind turning. The soldiers' equipment and their disciplined actions reminded him of something—memories of a bygone era before Yggdrasil. The vehicles, the uniforms, the mannerisms of the men—they bore a striking resemblance to pre-apocalypse Japan, back when mega-corporations had not yet risen to dominate the earth. The soldiers and their modern equipment reminded him of a time long past—an era he himself had never truly lived, but one he had come to know secondhand.
He remembered how Touch Me, ever the idealist, had often waxed poetic about the age of humanity's greatness, recounting tales of bravery, selflessness, and ingenuity from what they called "pre-apocalypse Japan." Tabula, on the other hand, had preferred to paint a more somber picture, speaking of the inevitable collapse wrought by greed and hubris. Between them, Ainz had pieced together a fragmented image of humanity's past, an image that now flickered before him as he observed the scene.
As Ainz finished reminiscing he came back to the current time
Narberal's expression remained unchanged, her faith in Ainz's judgment unwavering. To her, this was yet another example of his unparalleled intellect. Surely, her master had orchestrated this detour to align their timing with a moment of great significance. Perhaps, she thought, he intended to arrive precisely when the group of villagers needed rescuing or to intercept an enemy force in their darkest hour.
"Truly, Lord Ainz is a master tactician," Narberal murmured with awe, her eyes sparkling like stars.
Ainz, though inwardly flustered, kept his composure. He had grown accustomed to the guardians' almost fanatical reverence, but it never ceased to make him feel somewhat awkward. "Yes, of course," he replied dryly, trying to sound nonchalant. "It was all according to plan."
Nabe didn't believe they were lost and that it was all in his plan to wait until the people needed help so he could come as a hero who helped those in need. Nabe's eyes shined as she looked at Ainz/Momon she was again amazed by the brilliant plan that her master had made.
Ainz was a bit uncomfortable seeing the shine in her eyes but he was already accustomed to it as the guardians always thought he was some mastermind. Ainz already knew that a fire dragon was around this area as Demiurge had told him already but he did not think that as soon as they met the people they would find the dragon attacking them.
Ainz began to move towards them as he came to a conclusion when he saw the men in green. They were indeed Japanese. The Vehicles and guns looked like old models from his world. This was to say that the people were from some sort of earth before the war that left his world in ruins and where mega corporation ruled the world. "Could they truly be from another Earth?" Ainz thought. "Or perhaps this is a reflection of my world before it fell into ruin..." If it was the latter Ainz did not know how to feel. As possibly he could meet his friends again maybe in the distant future. .
'No, no I still can't be sure they are Japanese. What if they look like Japan people but aren't. I still have to see'
He advanced with his team, drawing closer to the cluster of vehicles. As they approached, a man stepped forward with an air of deference.
The man bowed deeply before him and spoke:
"Gracious thanks unto thee, noble savior. Might I humbly entreat the honor of knowing thy hallowed name, O valiant warrior, and likewise that of thy steadfast companion? And prithee, is yon mighty beast thy noble steed?"
Hamsuke, ever brimming with pride, puffed out her chest and lifted her head high, her whiskers twitching with delight.
"Oh-ho-ho! Noble steed, thou sayest?" she bellowed in her usual boisterous tone, her tail swishing with enthusiasm. "Verily, thou dost mistake mine station! I am no mere beast of burden but the wise and valorous Hamsuke, known far and wide as the Grand King of the Forest!"
Turning to Ainz with an expectant gleam in her large, expressive eyes, she continued, "Master, thou shalt correct this misunderstanding, shalt thou not? T'would not do to let them think me anything less than thy most esteemed companion!"
Though her bravado rang clear, there was a faint note of sheepishness in her tone, as if she feared Ainz might simply go along with the man's assumption for convenience.
Ainz inwardly sighed, finding their archaic manner of speaking peculiar, though the language itself was unmistakable—it was Japanese. Hamsuke had understood the man's words thanks to the translation items he had distributed to the team. These magical tools, crafted by Fluder, allowed communication across linguistic barriers. Fluder had originally developed the item to decipher foreign texts, a task born from his desire to study a book Ainz had provided him. When Ainz learned of its utility, he had commissioned more.
"My name is Momon," Ainz declared, his deep, authoritative voice cutting through the air. "This is my companion, Nabe, and, indeed, Hamsuke serves as my mount."
Hamsuke deflated slightly at the proclamation, her pride momentarily bruised, but she chose to remain silent—her tail swishing in subdued protest.
The man's eyes widened in astonishment as he heard the beast and warrior speak flawless Japanese, a feat he had never imagined possible.
"Are you… perhaps Japanese?" the soldier asked, his voice tinged with both hope and curiosity.
"Japanese? No," Ainz replied smoothly, shaking his head. "We hail from the Sorcerer Kingdom. We were tasked with venturing into this world to establish connections with those deemed worthy. As for the empire..." He paused, his tone growing colder. "They initiated an attack upon the lands of the Sorcerer King. Thus, we also came to scout the area. While I do not yet know how this will unfold, it is likely that the empire shall be required to offer recompense. Should that fail..." He let the weight of his words linger ominously. "The destruction of the empire may well be inevitable."
Nabe stood silently beside him, nodding her agreement, her gaze fixed upon the soldier with an unyielding intensity.
=
Moments before the conversation took place. When Momon was still fighting the flame dragon
Kurokawa's eyes sparkled with excitement as she observed the unfolding battle from a safe distance. She could hardly contain herself, her voice rising with fascination.
"Now this is a fantasy world! An armored knight locked in combat with a dragon, accompanied by a magician... and a giant hamster as a—" she paused, squinting at the creature, "—as a pet?"
Kurata, standing nearby, adjusted his glasses with a mix of intrigue and disbelief. "It's most likely a mount," he replied matter-of-factly, though his tone betrayed his own amazement.
Kurokawa tilted her head, looking at the creature again, but her awe at the spectacle remained unshaken. They continued to watch as the knight, with unmatched skill and precision, delivered the final blow, slaying the flame dragon. The air was thick with the smell of scorched earth and the echoes of the beast's dying roar.
As the dragon fell and silence returned to the field, the group exchanged uneasy glances. The knight's presence, combined with his seemingly otherworldly strength, was as intimidating as it was inspiring.
Lieutenant Itami cleared his throat, addressing his team. "Alright, who's going to talk to him?"
The group hesitated. Itami added, almost as an afterthought, "And more importantly, who here can speak... uh, in an archaic way the best?"
Kurata looked around, clearly hoping someone else would volunteer. When no one spoke up, Tomita, ever the reliable sergeant, sighed and stepped forward.
"I'll do it, sir," Tomita said, his expression a mix of determination and resignation. "But I make no promises about sounding convincing. My old Shakespeare class didn't cover giant hamsters."
Itami smirked. "Good enough. Just don't insult the giant hamster. Or the knight. Or the magician. Actually, just don't insult anyone, okay?"
Tomita nodded, taking a deep breath as he stepped forward to meet the warrior who had just slain a dragon—a figure whose strength seemed straight out of legend.
— 新章節待更 — 寫檢討
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