Several dozen minutes had passed since we set out toward the city.
As we walked through the dense forest, the sun was sinking far in the distance.
The dim lights of the city showed us the direction we needed to go, but it was still far away.
So far away that the distance itself was hard to judge.
"Do you feel it?"
Holding Flamme's hand as she walked through the undergrowth, Serie whispered.
Her voice was calm and unhurried, so composed that it seemed incapable of sensing danger at all.
If anything, she sounded intrigued by the situation.
"A barrier. They've cast magic so precisely that we wouldn't notice it, using the forest as a frame of reference. A rather capable mage."
That unpleasant sensation crawling along my bones—how could I fail to recognize it?
"Yes. I feel it."
Ever since coming to this world, the sensations I received through my skin had died, yet strangely, my five senses themselves had grown sharper.
The remaining mana I could feel within myself, the methods of using magic, and more. Without even realizing it, I was treating alien knowledge—knowledge unlike that of my previous life—as though it were only natural.
'...A barrier.'
If one looked closely at the sky, its surface shimmered as though soap bubbles had been spread across it.
It was beautiful, filled with iridescent color, but in the end it was nothing more than a net cast to hunt us.
'It resembles an unfolded World Item.'
A World Item of the same category as the orb I carried against my chest.
It possessed the ability to drag targets into a painted world that reproduced a hundred artificial fields.
Compared to that, a barrier was similar in that it severed one from reality, but it lacked that same majesty.
"Master. It's them."
Flamme's shoulders trembled. Serie held her and calmed her down.
"Yes. The only ones who would do something like this are them."
This was an age in which magic was rejected and oppressed as something belonging to demons.
Because only a small few monopolized magic, its progress among humans was slight.
Magic in a form humanity had not yet reached.
To deploy a barrier of this level required the brain of a monster that surpassed ordinary comprehension.
"Ainz, do you know this?"
Though she had said she would not play the role of master, Serie began reciting history like an elementary school teacher.
"There are countless talented human mages in this world. Yet only a tiny few ever bloom. Why do you think that is? Because they are murdered before their talent can flower."
Perhaps it was because, over the long years, she had seen countless mages who might one day have reached her level vanish into ash in an instant.
There was a faint bitterness in the phrase talented human mages.
There were beings other than humans living in this world.
That was something Serie had told me while we walked.
A world no different from fantasy, where a goddess existed, and humans, elves, dwarves, and dragons were real. Yet among them was one existence more alien than all the rest.
They spoke language like humans, wore clothes, and knew how to observe manners. Yet they were monsters that had learned all of that for the sole purpose of killing people.
Serie called them this:
"Demons. They must have sensed the mana that erupted at sea and come looking."
At those words, the detection magic I had active gave its warning.
Countless points appeared across my mind like a map, gradually converging on us from all directions.
"What shall we do, Serie?"
There were many meanings packed into those words.
There were plenty of ways to escape the barrier, from the simplest method to a roundabout plan. I had already begun forming strategies.
But Serie did not seem particularly concerned about the demons.
"Leave them be. If we stay still, they'll show themselves."
"What?"
I could not understand what she meant.
Judging from everything I had heard so far, the demons were made up of capable fighters. They might not match either me or Serie, but if they launched long-range bombardment from afar, they would be troublesome enough.
And yet they would throw away that advantage and reveal themselves before us?
My doubt lasted only a moment. From beyond the brush came the sound of rustling, and as if it had happened exactly as expected, Serie let out a scornful little laugh.
"See? Even if we don't go looking for them, they come out once they see our mana."
Serie had expended a considerable amount of mana in battle.
Judging by [Mana Essence], her total reserves had visibly decreased compared to when I first saw her.
To the demons, she must have looked like nothing more than a large but empty plate.
Tap.
A staff struck the ground.
"An immature girl, an elf, and a bizarre mask. Are these really the ones connected to the incident at sea?"
"Yes. Of all those caught by the detection magic, not one was a mage. We killed them all to verify the truth, and these three are the only ones left."
So those were demons.
They each wore helmets shaped like different beasts, but if there was one common trait, it was the horns.
If I had to compare them to something, they resembled demons, one of the races from Yggdrasil.
Seeing the demons sizing us up as though inspecting livestock, Serie clicked her tongue.
"Fools. Ordinarily, they would have hidden themselves to the end and attacked by surprise, but the moment they realized we weren't in peak condition, they came out into the open."
"Just for that?"
"Their own kind of pride. Though whether it's really proper to call it pride when they only reveal themselves after deciding their opponent is weaker than they are, I can't say."
"...Hearing you put it that way, I think I understand."
Wasn't it the same in games? Crushing an undergeared enemy and then teabagging over them—especially when the stronger side saw that their opponent was already wounded and weakened.
"So in short, a narrow and arrogant conceit."
"Yes. Still, this is the first time so many demons have come out to greet me. The battle at sea must have shocked them quite a bit. Did they receive orders from the Demon King?"
There were so many in sight that one could not count them on one's fingers alone.
Serie turned her head and looked at me.
"What shall we do, Ainz?"
This time, it was Serie who asked.
The meaning resembled what I had asked earlier, but the implication was different.
Even in the dark night, Serie's golden eyes shone brightly, gathering tiny motes of light.
"I could deal with them alone, if you like."
More than one person was unnecessary to deal with them.
Every word she spoke carried confidence.
Even after spending mana, she was saying that crushing these demons would pose no difficulty at all.
'She may be hiding even more than what she showed me then.'
I could not form any image of Serie being killed by the dead. As she had said, Ainz likewise could not imagine Serie dying so easily.
It would be fine to leave it to her.
That was what I thought—until I saw Flamme holding Serie's hand.
"Master...."
The small child was trembling.
The first thing visible in her was hatred for demons. Next came fear at being surrounded by so many of them. And at the end of it all was helplessness, the despair of being able to do nothing.
Perhaps because she was still a child, those emotions were easy for adult eyes to read.
'...Very well. Since it's come to this, it might be good to find out how well the magic I possess works in this world.'
I stepped forward before the demons, driven by pure academic curiosity.
"Leave this to me."
"Heh."
At that, Serie laughed.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Only... yes. I was thinking it was a good choice to ask, even if you never became my disciple."
"...."
An irritating intuition.
As I moved to the front, one of the demons raised his voice and shouted.
"You there, human mage. Leave the elf and the child behind, and we'll spare your life."
"Hah. A demon speaking of negotiation?"
"We do not delight in pointless slaughter either."
'A lie.'
Their intention was obvious: make me sell out those two, then deal with me once I was alone.
Even knowing that, numbers were violence.
Even if they had shown themselves, there would still be others hidden away.
That meant they still held many advantages.
'Inefficient.'
If I were in their position, I would kill with certainty, crushing the enemy so thoroughly that no future trouble could ever remain.
The fact that they were making this proposal at all meant they had judged me the weaker party.
'Which means they couldn't see through the ring concealing my power. At the very least, they don't possess strength on Serie's level.'
As I inwardly assumed they thought I was suppressing my mana and hiding my power, Serie overlaid my thoughts with her own explanation.
"Demons do not hide their mana. To them, the strength of one's mana is no different from rank itself. You don't see a ruler wandering around dressed like a beggar, do you?"
A timely assist. I could see the bottom of the demons now.
I was not her disciple, but the information Serie gave me about demons was useful.
The enemy was far beneath what I had expected. In that case, there was only one thing to say.
"I refuse."
"I see."
As the demon raised his staff, a magic circle appeared.
"Then die."
Magic I had never seen in Yggdrasil.
"A demon devotes its entire life to a single spell. Most become so absorbed in their own magic that they know nothing outside their specialty."
If I could not counter that magic, then it was time to crush it instead.
"[Grasp Heart]."
The sensation was like a soft fruit bursting, pulp spilling out.
I could feel that it had struck true.
As the spellcasting abruptly ceased, another demon standing beside him turned his head and asked,
"What's wrong?"
"...."
"Hey."
The useful thing about instant-death spells was how clean they were. Those nearby often failed to notice anything at all.
I gave his shoulder a light shove, and the demon who had just told me to die tumbled down from the hill.
He rolled and rolled until he came to rest at my feet, and the demons stirred in alarm.
"Demons only coordinate out of necessity. To the eye, they're a rabble. Now that the one commanding them is gone, their chain of command will waver."
Just as Serie said, the moment I killed the demon standing before us, their agitation was plain to see.
Even so, the demons only faltered for a moment. They did not stop.
"I see. So you're the mage who used magic at sea."
They were carrying out the Demon King's orders according to rational judgment. They seemed almost sociopathic, but in the present situation, it was the most appropriate attitude they could take.
When the hidden demons began to cast magic, the forest lit up.
The light was more splendid than the city's nightscape, yet it was like candle flames that would soon gutter out as night deepened.
I waited until the spells were cast, then struck them aside with my hand and erased them.
"What?"
A demon's bewilderment.
Only a single spell had flown toward me.
Behind that one word—"What?"—trailed countless question marks.
The demon standing at the very front, facing Ainz, turned his head to look behind him in order to confirm his doubt.
What awaited him there was an armored skeleton.
"Hhk..."
The skeleton and the demon faced one another.
It resembled a demon, but with horns larger than theirs, a flamberge in hand, a shield slung over its arm, and the breath of the giant skeleton dampening the nose like vapor.
"What is this undead...?"
"A Death Knight."
I answered the question for him.
"If I had to give it a name, then yes—magic that raises the dead, perhaps."
Behind it followed the corpses of demons that had been turned into undead by the Death Knight's ability.
"Mages are weak in close combat. When mages fight each other, they can judge at a glance from the other's mana whether they are stronger, so the image of victory never forms. If one is to oppose them, a warrior ignorant of magic is more suitable."
Serie touched the neck that had once been cut by a perfect warrior.
With that explanation added, the demon's voice no longer held fear of death, but a kind of resignation.
"Since when?"
"Since when, you ask?"
The Death Knight's sword harvested his neck.
"Why, from the very beginning, of course."
Now only a body remained, and even that demon rose again as undead.
'If Serie had stepped in, I wouldn't have used it, but it was wise to make preparations in advance.'
Battle is decided the moment it begins.
"Wanting to believe you'll always be the stronger one is asking too much."
In this world, where humanity had not conquered the top of the food chain, the night belonged not to humans but to the inhuman.
And surely it was the demons who occupied it.
But was not the night, by its very nature, the domain not of the living, but of the dead—of the undead?
A walking corpse should not presume to intrude so lightly.
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