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Overlord (Light Novel) - Volume 11, Chapter 4 - A Craftsman and Negotiation Part 3
Volume 11, Chapter 4: A Craftsman and Negotiation Part 3
This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml
Another Dwarf came in. He was a runesmith. There were very few people in this city who called themselves runesmiths now, and he was one of them.
The Sorcerer King had given something to Gondo, which he had in turn passed on to all the runesmiths he knew. The results were excellent. Even before the appointed time, nine-tenths of the runesmiths he had approached were already at his atelier cum research lab. There was no doubt that the rest would also arrive early.
“Over here!”
“Oh! Gondo! I’m coming!”
Anticipation was written all over the face of the Dwarf who walked over.
“All right, now give it to me as agreed!”
How many times had those words been repeated up till now? While Gondo found it irritating, he rationalized it away as a form of work, and he gave that Dwarf the same answer he had given all the others:
“The Sorcerer King has something to tell everyone. You’ll get it after that.”
“What?”
“I told you, didn’t I? Before I gave you that small bottle. His Majesty has something to say, and after you listen to the end, you’ll get the large bottle.”
“Hm, well, that does sound kind of familiar…”
“Alright, if you understand, then sit down over there.”
“Umu… Also, ah, Gondo. About that…”
Gondo knew what was coming even without hearing it. Every single smith who had come had said the same thing.
“Nobody else but His Majesty has such wine. Do you understand? Do you understand that such a wine can only be found in his country?”
“Mm, mhm. That’s true. That taste, like joy spreading through your mouth… It glides down the throat, but burns in the gut…”
“Mhm. Alright, if you get it, then sit down over there.”
Gondo pushed the smith — who was imagining delights unseen — in the appropriate direction.
“Come on, don’t be like that. You’ve tasted it before, haven’t you? You understand how I feel, right?”
“I’ve never touched it. I’m not a fan of drinking.”
“Oh, what a waste! Gondo, you’ve missed out on four-fifths of life!”
“Yes, yes, yes, hurry up and sit down. Look, those guys have all drunk it, you should go discuss it with them.”
“Ohhh! Really?!”
The excited smith began running and then suddenly stopped. Then, he turned to look at Gondo. Many of the smiths here had done that too.
“I say, Gondo.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Really? But…”
“It’s fine. That’s why…”
“...I understand. However, there’s one thing you must remember. You can come to me for help at any time.”
After saying that, the smith moved to sit with the others. Then, he joined their enthusiastic discussion on the joys of alcohol.
Gondo sighed, his heart aching faintly.
The Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown had given Gondo a certain item in order to gather the runesmiths.
That item was wine.
Gondo did not drink, but no Dwarf could resist the taste of delicious wine. Thus, by whetting their appetites with a small sample of exotic alcohol and promising them a large bottle of it later, they should be able to gather about half the smiths. That was what the Sorcerer King had said. However—
Every seat here looked to be filled up.
Gondo sighed again. Personally speaking, he did not want to gather them with such cheap tricks. Instead, he wanted to inflame their pride as craftsmen and have them rally round.
Or rather — that was just Gondo’s selfish wish.
The Sorcerer King had used the quickest and most effective method to gather the smiths. Relying on their pride to bring them together would have wasted a lot of valuable time.
The runesmiths were in dire straits. They had lost the proof that they and their ancestors had existed, while all that lay ahead was darkness. Mired in negativity, it was no wonder that many of them had given up on themselves. Very few Dwarves still called themselves runesmiths and practiced their craft. Most of them had taken down the shingles on their workshops and merely lived day by day of a hopeless, dreamless existence.
Could he have relit the fire in hearts like theirs?
Gondo eagerly looked forward to Ainz and what would happen next.
At the appointed time, Gondo checked the number of Dwarves which had shown up. Every single one was present.
“Well? Ainz-sama asked if he could begin.”
The girl who ran up to Gondo was one of the Sorcerer King’s trusted aides, Aura.
“Oh, can you tell His Majesty that everyone has gathered?”
“Got it~”
The girl ran off. As he watched her leave, Gondo tilted his head.
He was not quite sure what exactly that girl was. Why did that nigh-omnipotent undead lord place so much trust in her? Was she the proof of his friendship with the Dark Elves?
As Gondo pondered this, Ainz Ooal Gown stepped forward on a raised platform. Beside him was the other female who served as his aide.
“Ohhhhhhh!”
“It’s the undead!”
“An enemy?!”
The Dwarves were thrown into chaos. That was only to be expected. The undead were the enemies of all that lived.
“That—”
“—Silence.”
The female — Shalltear Bloodfallen — raised the bottle in her hand.
Everyone’s eyes could pick out the amber radiance within. They were an intensely practical lot, so their attention went to the bottle instead of Ainz’s undead face, and they fell silent.
“Ainz-sama, what is your will?”
“No, there’s nothing. Thank you for your hard work, Shalltear. ...Alright, thank you for coming, everyone. There’s enough wine for everyone, so after this, just take one bottle as you go. Until then, I hope you will keep quiet and listen to me. Of course, if you feel that the words of the undead are not worth listening to, you are free to leave on the spot. Of course, you will not get a bottle of this wine.”
The Sorcerer King swept his gaze across the Dwarves.
Every fiber of his being — from his attitude to his diction and many other things — was certain proof of his overwhelming power. Then there was his haughty, regal bearing which made them instinctively cower before him. It was as though every single joint of his fingers was infused with power.
“Then… I trust there are no objections if I begin speaking?”
The Dwarves nodded in silence.
“Firstly, I am the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown. The domain to the south of this mountain range, beyond the Great Forest of Tob, belongs to me. Being able to meet you esteemed runesmiths delights me from the bottom of my heart. Alright: my words are a very simple proposal, as well as a request. Come to my country. I want to use your runecraft to begin a revolution in magic item enchantment.”
As he heard the Sorcerer King’s words, a spike of pain — born of disappointment and despair — pierced Gondo’s heart.
Gondo shook his head.
He cast away the matter of his father and his grandfather, and looked at the faces of the smiths from the side. They all had bitter expressions on their faces. Their response did not look like it would be positive.
“Forgive me, but I have a question I wish to ask.”
The Dwarf who raised his hand glanced at Gondo.
“Why do you want our craft? Frankly speaking, it’s practically a dying art in this country too.”
The Dwarf who spoke was one of the older smiths present.
“...Simple. I want you to rediscover the lost secrets of your art.”
“Lost?”
Under the runesmiths’ eyes, the Sorcerer King produced a sword from his pocket dimension.
The Dwarves gasped in unison.
It was shock, born of seeing a sword being pulled out of thin air. There was also terror at the sight of the skeletal king, wreathed in unholy light, holding up a blade.
But the reason why Gondo exclaimed despite himself was the same awe which filled every other person here.
It was a black-bladed sword of extraordinary quality. The unbelievably fine edge practically shone with magical radiance.
“Such an… An amazing sword…”
“Incredible… I’ve never seen anything like it in my life…”
“Is this the sword from Dwarven mythology?”
“Ohhh! What, what a beautiful sight this is...”
The Sorcerer King raised the sword, as though to show it to the Dwarves. Gondo’s eyes instinctively followed its glow as well.
“Alright, gentlemen, please pay attention to the body of the sword.”
Gondo followed where the Sorcerer King was pointing, and cried out. So did the other smiths.
There were 20 purple runes carved upon it.
However, only Gondo noticed that one of the runes on the sword was the same as the one which the Sorcerer King had described during their encounter in the tunnel.
I see. So that’s why he knew so much about runes.
He must have gained that knowledge from careful study of that sword.
“Then, I wish to ask you gentlemen. There are 20 runes on this sword; is such a thing possible?”
The answer went without saying — it was impossible. Nobody here could do it, no matter how hard they tried. And then, there was this sword, which seemed to exist only to mock their inability to do so.
The smiths rose from their seats, each with a raging inferno in their eyes. There was a passion in them which had not been there when they were talking about drinks. Then, the crowd surged forward like a horde of zombies pouncing on the living, to the feet of the Sorcerer King.
“Let me see!”
“Please! Let me touch it!”
“I might learn something! I beg you!”
“Insolence!”
The silver-haired girl glared at the encroaching dwarves with a frightening look in her eyes. The Dwarves froze for an instant, as though impaled by a fear which cut like icy blades. And then —
“—You’re being too noisy. Quiet down.”
There was no doubt that they stood in the presence of a true ruler.
His aura was one of a leader that was utterly confident of his position. Then again, it might have been because he was a peerless master of death.
Gondo had known this ever since he had met Ainz in that tunnel, but Ainz had not revealed that side of himself back then. It must have been an act to keep Gondo from shrinking away in fear. This must be the true nature of the Sorcerer King.
I can’t tell his expression, but he seems pleased. It must be because everyone’s moving as he planned.
“A moment, good smiths. Please hear me out to the end. After that, you may touch it directly. I will not continue until you are seated, and neither will you be able to obtain this sword.”
Dejected — cowed by his air of sovereign power — the smiths returned to their places.
“Thank you. Then, I shall pick up from where I left off. My question still stands — is a sword with 20 runes carved upon it within your abilities?”
Everyone looked to the oldest and most experienced of the smiths. He shook his head powerlessly and replied:
“It is not. To the best of my knowledge, I have only ever heard of six.”
A torrent of questions erupted.
“What? Six? I’ve only ever heard of five!”
“...Is that so. It seems few know of this, but 200 years ago, the hammer which the king bore had six runes carved upon it. That was the secret treasure of the runesmith’s art.”
Gondo recalled his grandfather.
He thought of the face of a runesmith from 200 years ago, a man who was a veteran of weapon-forging.
“Ohhhh! Is that the warhammer which could shake the earth? I think I heard of it in a song once…”
“Correct. Even the runesmiths — hailed as geniuses and prodigies — of that time could not produce a weapon with 20 runes on it…”
“I see. So this must be a weapon made with lost techniques, then.”
“Hm? Do you not know either, Your Majesty?”
“I am not sure how this sword was made. In all honesty, it is merely my possession. And… its creators are no longer in this world.”
“By that you mean… More valuable techniques were lost, then?”
Pain filled the faces of the smiths. Gondo felt the same way as well.
“Because of that—”
Everyone looked up at the Sorcerer King’s words.
“Because of that, I want to revive those techniques. Thus, I need your strength. I want you to make something like this sword, no matter the cost.”
Silence descended.
Needless to say, it was because they were all aware of how close to impossible this task was.
Even the most skilled of the runesmiths present had strained themselves to carve four runes at once. The Sorcerer King was asking for five times that amount. However, none of them said “it’s impossible”. They had their pride as craftsmen, and after seeing the masterpieces of a prior artisan, they could not bring themselves to deny it.
That sword is like a challenge from the smiths of old to the smiths of today, Gondo thought.
“I want to make it.”
Someone whispered those words.
Soon, that voice was not alone.
“Me too.”
“I want to try it.”
“Mm, I want to show the world what a real legend looks like.”
“No, I’ll be the one who’ll be hailed as a legend.”
“What nonsense is that. I’m the one who will bear that heavy burden.”
The sound of a applause rang through the air. Its source was the Sorcerer King upon his stage. Although they did not know how he had done it with his bony hands, it was said that all things were possible for a magic caster.
“Marvellous. However, can you do so by yourselves? Can you raise your voices and speak your challenge to a legend? It might be possible. It might not. Thus, I hope you will come to my country and devote your lives to creating new techniques.”
Silence descended once more.
Gondo was very aware of their feelings.
The Sorcerer King was offering these people — who were keenly aware that their art was practically extinct in the Dwarven nation — a shining opportunity within the palm of his outstretched hand.
Should they not bet their lives on this challenge?
“All right then, I will entrust this sword to you.”
The Sorcerer King stepped off the stage, presenting its hilt to one of the aged smiths. Perhaps it was coincidence, or perhaps he had researched it beforehand, but the man to whom he presented it was considered a genius second only to Gondo’s own late father, and his voice carried much weight among the runesmiths.
He did not reach out for it.
It was only natural to be confused when presented with such a mighty blade.
“Is, is it alright? Is it alright to hand such a powerful — a weapon which I may never see again in all my life to someone like me?”
“Right now, you are not Dwarves tempted by wine, but runesmiths who wish to take up a challenge. I can place my trust in that. In addition, I will be leaving this city for a while. Thus, I am simply lending it to you.”
The Dwarf straightened himself up.
“...I see. Then, please permit me to borrow it, Your Majesty.”
He bowed deeply, and received the sword with the utmost respect.
“Still, I have to say that I do not quite understand the techniques of runecraft. Is it possible to carve runes upon a blade and then further enchant it with magic?”
“It doesn’t work that way, Your Majesty. Runes are characters imbued with mana. Thus, carved runes and enchantments are mutually repulsive. If a powerful magic caster tries an enchantment, the runes will distort.”
“Is that so…”
“Incidentally, when you say you will be leaving Feoh Gēr, where will you be heading?”
“Ah, I will be going to your former Royal Capital.”
The Dwarves groaned all at once.
He could hear them say things like “That ruined—” “To such a dangerous place—” “Where the Quagoa still rule”
Gondo knew that much, but there was a message within them which he could not overlook.
“They say there are three trials awaiting those who wish to go there from this place. Will it be alright?”
“The three hazards, said to be impassable. Even if you make it past the first of them… the Maze of Death is impenetrable.”
All the speakers were elder Dwarves. As expected of those who were old and full of years, it would seem they knew things even Gondo did not. It might be best to ask them about it and inform the Sorcerer King.
The runesmith who had straightened himself up gave his counsel to the Sorcerer King.
“Your Majesty, that place should be the lair of a gigantic Dragon. That lord of the Frost Dragons, the White Dragon Lord, might be in residence. He was the reason for the destruction of Feoh Tiwaz. I know Your Majesty is possessed of great power, but in my humble opinion, that Dragon Lord is equally powerful. I pray you will take care of yourself.”
“...A Dragon, then. Indeed, it would make for a very interesting opponent. Then I shall proceed with the greatest of caution and deal with it carefully.”
After that, there were several more simple questions, and the meeting was dissolved. This was because everyone realized that the sooner it ended, the more time the Sorcerer King would have to take back their capital. They couldn’t bear to get in the way of that, Gondo thought.
Or perhaps, they wanted to inspect the sword they had received.
Gondo did not know which answer was correct, but given the inferno in the eyes of the Dwarven artisans, it was probably the latter.
***
The desire to shout “Yahoo!” filled Ainz.
He had felt that way ever since he had finished his presentation. It was no different from when he had been Suzuki Satoru. Whether he had succeeded or failed, he wanted to cry out as he basked in the feeling of liberation and relief.
“That was amazing, Ainz-sama! You really got that lot all fired up!”
“That was truly incredible. The only person in Nazarick who could do that is you, Ainz-sama!”
Ainz resisted the urge to go, “Ah, no~” in embarrassment as Aura and Shalltear praised him. Perhaps if they were Demiurge or Albedo, he might peek at them while wondering if they were mocking him. But since it was Aura and Shalltear, he could take their words at face value. Perhaps if he was Suzuki Satoru, he might even say, “I’m beat, want to grab a drink?” and head toward a vending machine, but the man who ruled Nazarick and the Sorcerous Kingdom could not say such things.
“—Hm, well, it was nothing much. I’m sure Demiurge or Albedo could do a better job.”
“Certainly not!”
“Yup yup! Even those two couldn’t play those Dwarves that well!”
Ainz did not feel that way, but he had not expected the situation to develop this well. And then, the creeping feeling of guilt over whether this success was a good thing began creeping up on him.
Naturally, the sword he had shown the Dwarves was an item from YGGDRASIL.
YGGDRASIL did not have a rune system. Then again, it might have existed within the game’s data, but it had not been discovered by anyone until the very end. Therefore, the runes carved on that sword were merely cosmetic — for decoration.
At first, he had thought, maybe they might get interested if they saw this sword. But he had been caught completely off guard by the intensity of their reaction, to the point where he kind of regretted saying that he wanted them to make a sword like that.
However, Ainz tamped down that feeling.
He had to strengthen the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. Since a foe with a World-Class Item might appear in the future, and there might be hidden players out there fighting him, he had to increase their combat strength.
Ainz looked at Shalltear.
She was a Vampire girl who seemed to be blushing in embarrassment — which was actually quite surprising when he thought about it. She was a seed Peroroncino had left behind. And she was the first NPC he had no choice but to kill with his own two hands.
His emotion suppression cancelled out the surge of hatred that followed, but even so, he could not forget it. He could not forget the shadow of the holder of the World-Class Item that had made him do such a thing.
In order to reach his goal, even making people miserable with lies was hardly worthy of consideration. The most important thing in this world was the residents of Nazarick. All other lives were two or three rungs below them.
Equality of lives was nothing more than a madman’s ravings.
If all life was equal, then he would like to put a man who tortured people to death in one electric chair and a champion of said equality in another, and then make the latter decide which of them should die. Anyone who could actually say that they could entrust their fate to a roll of the dice was a true believer.
However, Ainz would kill the former without hesitation. This was because Ainz knew that lives were not equal. There was no comparing the lives of the NPCs within Nazarick to the lives of the people outside it.
“That’s Ainz-sama for you!”
“You’re right!”
Before he could finish his train of thoughts, the praise of Aura and Shalltear stabbed at his heart. In any case—
“Don’t say they were ‘played’. I merely told them the truth.”
He had said that to them for the sake of Gondo, who should have been behind him.
However, when there was no response from behind, a somewhat puzzled Ainz turned around.
Gondo padded closer, prepared to send Ainz off.
“...What is it, Gondo?”
Upon being addressed, Gondo raised his head.
“...Your Majesty. Since you said all that to them, am I to take it that the Council approved of sending over the runesmiths?”
“Indeed. They did say they would also send an inspection team in the future to see if they were being treated as slaves, but fundamentally, they agreed to do so.”
“Is that so… So did those great people really feel that runecraft was no longer necessary?”
Gondo’s tears flowed down his cheeks
Ainz was shocked, Outside of childhood, a man’s tears were a rare thing.
Those tears must have been shed because he had learned that the art which he admired and which he took such pride in had been judged worthless and abandoned by his country.
But was that really the case, Ainz thought. Given the Dwarven nation’s circumstances, it would be very hard for them to refuse the request of a nation who had pledged to send them reinforcements.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. That was a truth among nations.
Even Ainz would kill hundreds of millions of people for Nazarick.
Still, there was no need to tell Gondo any of this.
“Indeed, Gondo. This country seems to view its runesmiths as disposable. They handed them over with hardly any resistance when I asked for them.”
Gondo, as well as the runesmiths who might hear of this from him, had to abandon their country to some extent. While it was very difficult to completely forsake the land of one’s birth, it was still a necessary step to have them devote their utmost loyalty to the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Ainz gently patted Gondo’s shoulder.
“However, the same is not true of me. I sense potential from the runesmiths.”
Even if Gondo’s dreams could not be realized, monopolizing these skilled people and using their research might allow him to develop a countermeasure against enemies with runic weapons.
Knowledge was power.
“...Even if you’re discarded by one country, it’s not over as long as another one needs you, don’t you think?”
Ainz patted Gondo’s shoulder several times. Gondo wiped his face clumsily.
“...Thank you very much, Your Majesty. Please allow me to meet your expectations with all my strength.”
“Umu, umu. I shall look forward to it.”
Ainz smiled — although his face did not move — as though to say, “I trust you.”
Then again, Ainz had been thinking.
It would be good if he could learn about the Dwarven Capital. He would probably need to have Gondo do some legwork to obtain more information. And then, he had to speak to the commander-in-chief.
Dragons in YGGDRASIL could live forever. It would not be strange for them to be individuals of unimaginable power. So in all likelihood there’ll be a Frost Dragon waiting for me...
Suddenly, the face of a young man — no, a young woman appeared from within his memories.
“Come to think of it, she did say she wanted to help me learn more about them… What a shame.”
