Chapter 7

It was a one-room wooden building.

There was no ornamentation. It was built simply, like a log cabin with the wood showing; however, it was easily 20 m on each side and the ceiling rose over 10 m. There were barely any furnishings: a giant mirror hung on one wall, a sturdy table and chairs around it.

Several people sat down, and on the table were a number of rolled-up pieces of parchment: magic scrolls.

"And thiiis is the laaaast one. A teleportation scrooooll." Along with the high-pitched voice, high enough to plausibly belong to a young girl, another scroll was placed on the table.

The one who put it there was a human woman wearing a maid uniform. She was a dainty little thing, with her hair done in a chignon style like dumplings on either side of her head. But there was something strange about her, most noticeably in her eyes. They were cute enough, but they had no spark. Not only that, but she never blinked. The collar of the risqué maid outfit covering her slim body was high, covering her entire neck. In fact, the only bare skin showing was her face. She was a member of the Pleiades, Entoma Vasilissa Zeta.

"Now thennn, there's alsooo a Message scroooll, so basically, there are quite a fewww. Maybe I could have them clear the table for nowww?" Entoma addressed the one sitting at the head of the table.

The figure nodded. "LET'S DO THAT."

"Okayyy. Chop-chop, thennn! Please clean it uuup!"

With Cocytus's approval and Entoma's order, everyone around the table began to move at once. They were all grotesques. One looked like a praying mantis, another like a spider, another like a giant brain. Everybody looked very different from one another, but they had two things in common: they were all Cocytus's minions, and they all served Nazarick. That was why they were taking orders from Entoma even though she was weaker than them.

The structure of authority in the Great Tomb of Nazarick was based not on who was strongest but on whether one was created directly by the Supreme Beings or not. In that sense, Entoma was superior.

Confirming that the table had been cleared, she mumbled, "Now thennn, I'll give theeese to youuu, Master Cocytusss," without opening her mouth, and picked up the bag at her feet. She took out a few extra rolled-up pieces of parchment. "Message scrooolls. Lord Ainz told meee they were made with skins acquired by Master Demiuuurge. He saiiid to report back if you have any trouble using themmm."

"OKAY…UNDERSTOOD. I'LL SEE IF I HAVE ANY ISSUES." He took several of the proffered scrolls with one of his four hands. "DEMIURGE HAS GOTTEN AHEAD OF ME AGAIN," he said, smiling wryly at the minions in the room. Someone answered with a faint, sycophantic laugh.

With the parchments in hand, Cocytus fell deep into thought. He had also heard that Nazarick's store of parchment for enchanting with low-level spells was running low.

Finding sources of materials to make various items was a very important project. Sure, they still had some leeway now, but if they just kept consuming items, they would eventually run out. That was why various people, including their master, were working on it. The apple trees he'd heard about, on the sixth level, were part of that plan.

However, the resource problem was something that Cocytus, who had been appointed to guard Nazarick, could do nothing about. Of course he couldn't. There was no way he could go outside if he was tasked with guarding the base. Unlike Demiurge, while he had been venturing out to deal with the Kingdom's criminals, had heard of a way to solve that problem. Given freedom to do that, he had soon after come back to Nazarick with several pieces of parchment that could contain spells up to the 3rd tier.

Cocytus's associate of equal rank had succeeded in an important mission.

He should have been happy about it. And really, he was. But he just couldn't completely extinguish the flames of envy deep in his heart. He was so jealous that his colleague had been of use to the Supreme Leader, that he could not stand it.

His own job was to be Nazarick's sword, always ready to defend it.

It was perhaps more important than any other guardian's job. Every minion he asked would tell him it was a critical task. They couldn't allow vulgar rabble to set foot in the hallowed ground made by the Supreme Beings.

But with no raiders, there could be no proof of Cocytus's faithful service. He wanted to do something that could show results. For him, being useful to the master was a joy. Cocytus wanted to taste that joy, too.

His chance was here, right now.

Cocytus turned his head to gaze at the scene in the mirror as he gripped the scrolls. The reflection was not of the room he was in but a marsh somewhere. Yes. The view from the Mirror of Remote Viewing was the reason "he'd spent two days camped in this log cabin, which Aura had built.

This first war, actually no more than a slaughter from the point of view of the overwhelmingly powerful Great Tomb of Nazarick, was merely a way to collect corpses. When Cocytus received this mission, which could also be termed a harvest festival, he was given a number of orders straight from the top.

First, he, Cocytus, would not face the enemy directly. Of course, that went for his underlings as well. He was to make do with the troops he was provided.

Second, he was to hold back the elder lich commander provided to him for until he absolutely needed to deploy him.

Third, he was to rely on his own judgment as much as possible.

There were a few other small things, but those were the main ones.

He needed to somehow claim victory with just the troops deployed around the lake. If he could succeed, he would be able to prove his devotion to his great master.

"NICE WORK. I'D LIKE YOU TO THANK LORD AINZ FOR ME."

Entoma sluggishly bowed her head.

"SO…ARE YOU GOING BACK?"

"No, I was tooold to watch how the battle goooes from heeere."

SO SHE'S OVERSEEING. Having concluded that, he felt a surge of excitement for the mission.

THEN LET'S GET STARTED.

Cocytus cast [Message] and gave orders to the undead commander to march.

Bonfires on either side of a raised platform cast a flickering light throughout the area. There were a few lizardmen on the stage: the chiefs of each tribe.

In the open area before them were all the many lizardmen who had gathered to fight. A quiet commotion rose from them like sea spray. It was the buzzing of the agitation they couldn't completely hide, even if they desperately tried to conceal their worry, panic, and fear.

This war was about to start. The close friends standing next to them might turn to corpses in the next moment. Or they themselves could be the ones to fall. That was the kind of battlefield onto which they were headed.

Shasuryu Shasha stepped forward out of the line of chiefs to hush the crowd. "Listen to me, lizardmen!" His imposing voice filled the air. Suddenly it was silent enough to hear a pin drop, and his voice echoed even louder. "I'll admit, there are a lot of 'em!"

No one made a sound, but it was obvious that the throng was upset by this.

Shasuryu waited a moment before continuing. "But there's nothing to be afraid of! We five tribes have formed an alliance, the first of its kind in history. Because of this, during this time, we are one tribe. That means the spirits of all the tribes' ancestors, even the spirits of tribes not our own, will be protecting us!

Head druids!"

Reacting to his voice, Crusch Lulu stepped forward, leading the five head priests. She removed her clothing, revealing the white scales beneath.

"Leader of the head priests, Crusch Lulu!" Responding to his call, she took another step forward. "Call the spirits of the ancestors!"

"Please listen, children of this united tribe!"

What was this newborn tribe? Crusch Lulu spoke firmly and eloquently on the topic in undulating tones, sometimes high, sometimes low, almost like she was singing.

At first almost everyone had been disgusted by the albino. But her confident and bold bearing changed their minds bit by bit as they watched.

As Crusch spoke, she twisted slightly this way and that. Her scales glittered in the light of the fire, as if the spirits of their ancestors had descended into her body.

Unbeknownst to the audience themselves, their expressions became one of worship.

"Five tribes are now one. The ancestral spirits of every tribe will protect all of you! Look, lizardmen! Watch as the innumerable spirits of all our tribes descend upon you!"

Crusch spread her arms wide and pointed to the heavens.

Many gazes followed her gesture, but of course there was nothing but a cloudy sky. It didn't seem like any spirits were appearing. But someone murmured:

"That little light!"

The voices started small but grew bigger and bigger. Several of the lizardmen announced they could see something: Some saw tiny lights; some shouted they saw lizardmen just like them; some saw a giant fish; some were surprised to see children; others said no, they were eggs. The lizardmen couldn't believe their eyes. They thought it was truly the descent of the ancestral spirits. What else could it have been?

"Our ancestors are here to protect us!" It was only natural that people would start shouting such things.

"Feel it! Feel their power as it flows into you!"

They could hear Crusch's voice slipping into their hearts from somewhere far away or perhaps somewhere very close. Guided by that voice, many of the lizardmen felt something resembling power enter them.

"Feel it! Feel the strength of our ancestors coursing through you!"

All the lizardmen gathered there felt it for sure: a power bubbling up within them, an excitement that dispelled all their previous anxiety, a fountain warming their bellies like strong alcohol.

It was real proof that the spirits had descended upon them.

Turning away from the sea of rapt expressions before her, Crusch nodded to Shasuryu.

"Now, lizardmen. The spirits of our ancestors have come to walk among us. Our opponents may outnumber us, but will we be defeated?!"

"No!" Still entranced, the multitude of lizardmen responded to Shasuryu in chorus, and the atmosphere swelled.

"That's right! The ancestral spirits are with us! We will not be defeated! We will destroy our enemies and dedicate the victory to our ancestors!"

"Yeah!" Their fighting spirit blazed. There were no longer any anxious lizardmen, only lizardmen facing the coming battle as warriors.

The army hadn't been dazzled by magic. Even with this many druids gathered, there was no way they had the resources to cast spells on this many lizardmen right before the big fight. The vision was the result of each lizardman being served a special drink right before the ritual.

It was a drink said to inspire bravery, a tradition passed down among the lizardmen, but its actual effects were short-term intoxication, euphoria and hallucinations, an elixir made with a special roasted herb.

The drink brought about an altered state of consciousness. Crusch's speech had been a way to buy time while the drink took effect.

Once the trick is revealed, it's not very interesting. But for the ones who experienced those effects, the lizardmen who saw the spirits of their ancestors descend, the ritual really did inspire courage.

"Now we'll pass around the paint. Normally each tribe would have their own color, but the ancestral spirits of the five tribes are in all of you. Decorate yourselves with all colors, if you wish!"

Priests carrying earthenware pots strolled through the crowd. The lizardmen took paint from the pots and began to paint their bodies with whatever patterns they liked. Supposedly it was actually the ancestral spirits within them painting, so they all let their fingers run wherever they might go.

Many lizardmen covered nearly their whole bodies, especially since this time the spirits of all five tribes had descended, but among them, the Green Claw tribe members barely painted at all. This was due to the fact the leading members, Shasuryu and Zaryusu, didn't decorate themselves very much. Their tribesmen were like fans imitating their idols.

When Shasuryu scanned the crowd and saw that most of them had finished, he drew his huge sword and pointed toward the gate.

"To war!"

"Raaaaaaagh!" Their roars thundered in the air.

Stationed on the marsh, the Great Tomb of Nazarick's army was split broadly into two corps. On the left were the zombies, on the right the skeletons. The skeleton archers and riders were positioned behind the front line on the right. The undead beasts, perhaps meant as the final line, were placed in the rear.

Meanwhile, the lizardmen also divided in two battalions, despite being a small army. On the zombie side went the females and hunters, on the skeleton side were the warriors and males. The druids remained inside the walls.

The lizardmen had come out of the village because they knew fighting a siege battle wouldn't give them any advantage. Reinforcements weren't coming and their walls were far from sturdy. Meanwhile, the enemy army consisted of undead that needed neither food nor sleep. At such a disadvantage, fighting under siege would have been the most foolish plan.

But forming ranks on the field gave the lizardmen a harsh awakening as to just how wide the gap in numbers was between the two sides. There were more than three undead for every one of them. More than thirty for every ten. The ratio didn't change, but three thousand to one thousand felt overwhelming. The mere sight of three thousand undead forming ranks was oppressive.

Still, even under those circumstances, the lizardmen were no longer afraid. Numbers were not an issue now that their ancestral spirits had descended.

Eventually, the undead slowly began to move. The first ones to march were the zombies and skeletons. Perhaps meant to serve as reinforcements, the archers and riders stood immobile in the marsh.

The lizardmen moved to meet them. "Yaaaaaaagh!" A thunderous battle cry echoed across the marsh. Along with it came the sound of countless splashes. Water sprayed and mud spattered.

With both armies on the march, their clash was imminent and something unusual happened within Nazarick's army. Although the zombies and skeletons had begun marching at the same time, a gap gradually opened up between them; zombies moved sluggishly while skeletons were quick. On top of that, the marsh bogged them down. Slow-moving monsters like the zombies were sucked into the mud, which slowed them further, but lightweight monsters like skeletons weren't affected as much.

This led to the first clash happening between the skeletons and the warrior caste.

The lizardmen had no formation. They just charged in recklessly and attacked with wild abandon. At the front of the pack were the five head warriors. These champions rushed out first. In some cases, leading from the front wasn't a very tactically sound decision, but they were the highest-ranking lizardman warriors: if they didn't fight out front, morale would suffer. This way, all the lizardman warriors were inspired and overflowing with fighting spirit.

The next to charge were the Razor Tail tribe's eighty-nine warriors. They had the highest defense out of any tribe's warriors, clad in leather armor and even equipped with leather shields. They held up their shields and their lines met the skeleton forces like a contiguous wall.

With a crash, the skeleton vanguard joined battle with the lizardman front lines. And then bones scattered as the lizardmen cut deep into the skeleton formation. Angry roars thundered and the sound of breaking bones rang out again and again. At times, there were groans as the living warriors fell, but the clatter of bones greatly outnumbered them.

At a glance, the battle overwhelmingly favored the lizardmen.

If they had been humans, perhaps the situation would have been reversed. Since skeletons had bone bodies, they were practically immune to stabbing weapon damage and had high resistance to cutting weapons. For humans, who used mostly swords, it would have been difficult to deal damage effectively. The reason lizardmen had such an advantage was due to their unrefined primary weapons like maces made of rocks. Skeletons were vulnerable against crushing weapons.

Every time a lizardman swung, brittle skeleton bones crumbled. Even if they could stand one hit, they'd be completely demolished by the next. Meanwhile, the lizardmen's thick scales often deflected the skeletons' rusty swords. Occasionally one of the warriors was injured, but not so critically that it was life-threatening.

In this first skirmish alone, almost five hundred skeletons sank to their final resting place deep down in the marsh, while above it the lizardmen cheered and roared as they destroyed the undead who had dared to challenge them.

Cocytus was dumbfounded by what he saw in the mirror.

This was still just the first wave of attack, but the ability of the lizardmen was beyond what he'd expected. Cocytus was a brilliant warrior, and he had been able to anticipate their strength to some degree. Certainly the gap in individual aptitude between skeletons and lizardmen was obvious: a lone skeleton had no chance of beating a lone lizardman. But he had thought that such a numerical advantage more than compensated for that.

Then what had happened? It seemed the lizardmen had powered up somehow.

Even as he watched, the skeletons rapidly crumbled. SO THE ONLY PURPOSE THE SKELETONS AND ZOMBIES SERVE IS TO TIRE THEM OUT? In that case, his only effective units were the 300 undead beasts, the 150 skeleton archers and the 100 skeleton riders. Only 550, it was a reversal in numbers.

Cocytus did some calculations in his head. Undead were strong. Especially in a protracted battle, there weren't so many who could defeat them. Undead didn't feel fear, pain, or fatigue and they didn't require sleep. It went without saying how much of an advantage that became during a war.

Suppose one were hit in the head with a stone mace. That would mean instant death for a living thing, if it's unlucky, but even with luck, there would be severe pain and a lot of bleeding. It's a self-evident truth that it would very quickly lose the will to fight. Of course, there were soldiers who underwent training to withstand pain and wouldn't give up so quickly, but for most, that would be their breaking point. That was only natural for a living thing.

But what about an undead? If its head was cracked open, it would attack with its brains spilling out. If its arms were broken, It would attack with its broken arms. No legs? It would crawl. Indeed, an undead would continue to move until it lost every remnant of its false life. As long as the conditions for instant death weren't met, often decapitation for lower-level undead, they wouldn't succumb to pain like humans did. In that sense, undead were the ideal soldiers.

THE LIZARDMEN HAVE BESTED THEM ON AN INDIVIDUAL LEVEL—I'LL ADMIT THAT. BUT HOW LONG CAN THAT LAST? Cocytus raised his opinion of the lizardmen up a notch and concluded that it wouldn't be possible to crush them all at once. What he needed to do was draw out the battle.

"SHOULD WE PULL BACK AND SEE HOW WE'RE DOING?"

"That seems like a good idea."

"I think we should send the archers and riders out there."

"Nah, nah, keep pushing like we are now and wait until they're exhausted."

"And then what? If we don't take the enemy base, they'll just go there to recover and that'll be that."

"That's true. It seems like they've strengthened their defenses, but those walls are flimsy. Why don't we sack that village, then encircle their forces and annihilate them?"

Having gotten input from a number of minions, Cocytus picked up a Message scroll.

He glanced at Entoma.

She was looking with disinterest at the mirror. She had brought something like a green cookie up near her jaw. Soon after came light crunching noises. Her attitude suggested she thought none of this was her concern. Perhaps that explained her expressionless face.

NO, THAT'S JUST FOR LOOKS. He recalled her true form and realized how foolish he was for checking her expression. Cocytus's friend and one of the five most-evil beings in Nazarick, the Prince of Fear, called her a "most horrible" predator of his relatives. That was her true nature.

He gave up on trying to grasp the feelings of their master (who must have been the reason she was there) from her face and used the scroll to Message the commander.

"Are they underestimating us?" Zenbel murmured. His voice was low, but from where he was, getting a view from the top of the mud wall, it was loud enough that everyone could hear him.

"The archers and riders haven't budged!" complained Zenbel. "All I can think of is that they're mocking us."

"Yeah. I figured they'd have come all at once to try and crush us…," said the Small Fang chief.

"Zombie fight…going well too."

There were only forty-five lizardmen facing the zombies, consisting of the few hunters. They repeatedly threw rocks and retreated. And little by little, they were leading them farther away from the skeletons. The females had moved to dig into the skeletons' flank.

"Their movements are kinda strange."

"Seriously."

The zombies were moving less like they were following orders and more like they were just completely distracted. Was there any commander who would approve of their troops moving like that? No, that was out of the question. But that was how they were moving. So was it part of the enemy's plan? Everyone racked their brains.

"I just don't get it."

"Yup, agree…Shasuryu."

"No matter how hard they thought, they couldn't come up with any meaning the zombies' actions could possibly have.

After watching everyone for a while, Zaryusu told them what he thought. "Could it be there's no commander?"

"No commander…? Oh, you mean like they were just given initial orders and are following those only?"

"Yeah, like that."

Lower-tier undead like zombies and skeletons, for all intents and purposes, had no intelligence of their own. It was most effective to give them orders in real time. It seemed like in this instance the zombies had only been given the order to kill nearby lizardmen.

"So they think they can win as long as they outnumber us? Or could this fight just be a test to see how long they can last with no commander?" said Zenbel.

"Maybe."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Those bastards!" The one who had yelled wasn't Zenbel but Shasuryu. Even he couldn't take this sitting down. They were all risking their lives.

"Do you mind calming down, Shasuryu? It's not like we're sure that's what's going on," said the Small Fang chief.

"Yeah, sorry… I'm glad things are going well."

"Right, brother. For now, we just have to cut down their numbers as much as we can."

Combat fatigue wasn't something to sniff at. In a melee fight, the mental wear and tear was unimaginable. On a battlefield, where one could be attacked from any direction, just swinging the weapons a few times would cause double the exhaustion.

But the undead didn't feel that. They would just keep attacking without rest.

The more time passed, the more obvious that gap between the living and the dead would become.

In other words, right now time was the greatest lizardmen's enemy.

"Tch, I should be out there."

"Contain… yourself, Zenbel."

Certainly if they brought out Zenbel's powerful arm, the skeletons would be gone in no time. But that would mean showing their hand. Zaryusu and the other five had to remain as trump cards. Of course, they would go if they were truly out of options, but otherwise they needed to keep hidden their potential until a really strong enemy appeared.

"But it's quite convenient for us they aren't coming this way," said Zaryusu, garnering agreement. Then he asked Crusch, "Are things going okay on your end?"

"…Yes, the ritual is going fine," she answered, looking into the village. All of the most powerful druids were currently conducting a ritual that had the potential to give the lizardmen another trump card. Normally it would take an extremely long time, but with the best from each tribe cooperating, they would finish in time to use it during the battle.

"…It's amazing what we can accomplish when we work together."

"Hmm…yeah. After the war we shared just a little bit of information, but…this time, after the fight is over, there are so many more things I want to do."

The other chiefs nodded emphatically at Shasuryu's remark. This was the first time they were exchanging and pooling knowledge and they could clearly see how much it would help all the tribes to grow. The realization hit hardest for the three chiefs who had allied before yet never exchanged knowledge.

Zaryusu looked at the five chiefs and laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Crusch.

"Nah, I mean, I know it's a bad time, but I'm just happy."

Crusch instantly understood how he felt. "I get it, Zaryusu."

Zaryusu crinkled his eyes, as if Crusch's smile were the sun itself. Both their gazes were full of longing and affection.

Their bodies were separated. Of course they were. At this very moment, there were lizardmen going to their deaths. They couldn't answer the feelings in their hearts while that was going on. But their tails were moving with minds of their own, poking and drawing back.

"Mph…"

"Whaddaya make of it, old man?"

"They're in their own world."

"Steamy."

"My conclusion: It's great to be young. You have a future."

The four older lizardmen nodded as they watched the cute couple.

Of course, Zaryusu and Crusch could hear them talking. As their tails whipped around, they got their expressions under control.

"Brother, they're on the move."

The change of topic was so fast Shasuryu and the others grinned awkwardly as they turned their attention to the enemy army. The skeleton riders had set out on a big curve.

"Whoa, whoa, are they coming this way?"

"With the riders? Are they trying to unsettle us by attacking this position?"

"No, aren't they trying to get around the rear of the warriors and males to surround and wipe them out?"

This is bad.

Without saying it, everyone reached the same conclusion. The skeleton riders were a problem.

If they had moved right away, the lizardmen could have crushed them. But now the warriors and males were in a melee battle, the hunters were drawing the zombies away and the females had begun hurling rocks at the skeletons' flank. The lizardmen didn't have the force to suppress the skeleton riders now.

"Maybe it's time for us to move."

Shasuryu nodded at the Small Fang chief's idea. "The question is who should go. Yeah, it's time to make our first move too."

The enemy knights were skeletons equipped with lances mounted on similarly bony horses. They didn't have any special powers aside from how easy they were to deploy, but their mobility in the marsh was outstanding. Since their bony bodies didn't sink very far into the mud, they were able to move at a fast pace.

The hundred units took a long detour to arrive behind the lizardmen for a rear assault.

They detected the figures of three lizardmen coming toward them up ahead on the left, but they ignored them. The newcomers to the battle weren't included in their orders, so until they were attacked, they wouldn't have anything to do with them. That was just how undead with no intelligence operated.

They had nearly reached the back of the lizardman army when the rider out in front found his vision spinning wildly. The skeleton had been thrown high into the air, falling swiftly into the marsh. A human would've been confused and unable to act right away, but the unintelligent, undead skeleton rider promptly moved to carry out its orders. It stood up immediately but did stumble from the heavy damage.

Another rider went tumbling into the first, and the two units' bones broke apart and scattered into the marsh.

This was happening here and there on the marsh, but why? The answer was extremely simple: traps.

The lizardmen had buried wooden boxes in the water. When undead horses stepped into them, the momentum caused them to trip.

Skeleton riders went tumbling one after another. Humans would have slowed down or taken some kind of countermeasure, but these riders did not. They might have had the judgment to detour around a gaping hole but not to guard against hidden traps: such thinking was outside the scope of their orders and they didn't have the intelligence to adapt to their situation.

Maintaining their speed and charging straight into the traps was like mass suicide. Still, although the traps were effective, all they did was slow them down. They dealt some damage, but it wasn't enough to destroy them. The riders scattered around just picked their muddied selves up.

Then a sharp whistling sound rang out, and one of the fallen skeleton riders' heads exploded.

Detecting a hostile party, the riders scanned the area. Then another head shattered like glass.

The riders discovered the three lizardmen at a distance of a little over 70 m and that it was rocks launched with pinpoint accuracy from their slings that were knocking off their heads. The skeleton riders advanced.

At the same time, the battle with the skeletons on the ground was reaching a turning point. After the twang of a great many bows came the sound of arrows raining down. The one hundred and fifty skeleton archers fired the bolts over lizardmen and skeletons alike. It wasn't over with one volley; there was a second, a third…

This attack took the lizardmen by surprise. Several were hit and crumpled to the ground. They couldn't protect themselves against the cascade while in combat with the skeletons. Of course, arrows hit the skeletons too, but they emerged unscathed. While the piercing damage-resistant skeletons pushed forward, the skeleton archers loosed their arrows from behind. It was a brilliant maneuver. Considering the time it would take to completely obliterate a 2,200-strong vanguard in order to reach the archers, this should have doomed the lizardmen.

The problem was that it came too late. If they had carried out this plan in the beginning of the battle, it would have probably proven fatal for the lizardmen. They would have been overwhelmed by the numerical disparity and the battle would have ended differently. But the outcome seemed to be decided already.

The lizardmen ignored the skeletons, having already whittled their numbers, to charge directly at the archers. One hundred and fifty arrows rained down, lots of lizardmen collapsed into the mud. But not all of them.

Lizardmen had thick skin and tough scales. Even without armor, they had the same defenses as a human in leather armor. Even if an arrow pierced their skin, their thick muscles would save their life.

Part of the reason fewer fell was that the skeleton archers didn't have a great deal of strength for drawing their bows. The force behind their attacks wasn't enough to kill a lizardman.

With battle cries, the lizardmen fearlessly pushed through. When the deadly barrage came a second time, they protected their heads with their arms. They ran for their lives as the hail of missiles pierced skin and tore through bodies.

A third volley…

That was about all the skeleton archers could do. If they'd had any intelligence, they probably would have retreated. If they had fallen back temporarily and fought cohesively with the rest of the remaining undead army, there might have been a way for them to retain their usefulness in the fray.

However, they lacked the brains that allowed for such a complicated directive and in any case, those orders had never been given. They followed the simple orders they had—and continued shooting arrows at the lizardmen even when they were practically on top of one another.

A war cry went up, and a wave of lizardmen swallowed the skeleton archers just like it had the skeletons. The long-range fighters didn't have any room to use their bows. They fell into the soggy earth under the lizardmen attacks. There were still zombies remaining, but almost all of the skeletons had been defeated.

This was when a new enemy was finally unleashed: the undead beasts. They were undead made from corpses of a variety of animals like wolves, snakes, boars, monsters that combined zombie endurance with animal dexterity.

The undead beasts headed straight for the lizardmen. Some were fast, others slow, it was a disjointed charge with no sense of rank or formation.

Attacks that came from below were surprisingly hard to dodge. Most of the beasts employed the animal-like method of biting at their enemies' ankles to slow and drag them down before dealing the final blow.

For the lizardmen, who were already tired, this was a problem indeed. A great number of them who were slow to react had their throats ripped out. When a comrade fell at a warrior's side, it didn't matter if they'd braced themselves mentally or if they believed the ancestral spirits were with them: they couldn't deny that their morale was shaken.

The head warriors fought at the front of the line, but the pressure was gradually increasing; it was only a matter of time before the lizardman lines broke and routed. The undead beasts would kill the fleeing lizardmen and then break into the village, bringing an end to the one and only alliance of all the lizardmen. They battle seemed to be over as the slaughter was about to begin.

Suddenly, the marshes started rippling around the fighting, the dead and the dying.

Two cones of mud, standing a little over 2 m high, with no arms, legs or heads, appeared and began to move.

Though they had no feet, they moved nimbly across the marsh, almost gliding, advancing on the undead beasts. Once they'd gotten closer, they reached out some whiplike appendages, far longer than the mud creatures were tall, from about where the arms would have been on a person.

These two were one of the lizardmen's trump cards, the most powerful magic beings the druids could summon combining their powers: swamp elementals.

The two summons plowed into the pack of undead beasts, struck with their whiplike tentacles and yanked some of them off the ground. Of course, the undead beasts countered, scratching with their claws and biting with their fangs.

Both sides were fearless in the fray, but gradually it became clear the swamp elementals had the advantage. It was a matter of imbalance in the individual potential.

The power of their own priests was winning against the undead. Seeing this restored the courage of the lizardmen warriors, and they took up the charge once more.

Thus began a gruesome brawl. In this battle, unlike the one with the skeletons up till now, numerous lizardmen lost their lives. But the lizardmen held the numerical advantage now, and the balance of battle began to tip in their favour.

"THE ARMY IS GOING TO LOSE." Cocytus now understood that. None of the undead in the troops he was given had intelligence. That was why they'd lost and he'd been afraid of that right away. But he hadn't expected them to be so weak.

And he was bothered by how shallow his thinking had been. There was only one way he could think of to turn this around now, but it wasn't a good one. Using that method was practically a synonym for personal failure.

But could he really report to his master that they had lost? Cocytus grabbed a Message scroll. The one to call in this situation was…

"… DEMIURGE?"

"Yes, my good friend. What in the world happened that you would send me a Message?"

Demiurge's deep, calm voice echoed in Cocytus's head. As one of Nazarick's top minds, Demiurge would surely have a good idea.

It was frustrating to go for help to someone who, in a way, was a rival, but he had to avoid defeat at all costs. The army of the Great Tomb of Nazarick? Lose?! To avoid that fate, he would bow his head as low as it took.

"ACTUALLY…"

Demiurge listened silently to Cocytus's explanation about his present situation that used up a whole scroll, and he heaved an annoyed sigh. And what do you want me to do about that?"

"I WANT YOU TO LEND ME YOUR WISDOM. AT THIS RATE, WE'LL SOON BE DEFEATED. IF IT WERE JUST ME LOSING, I WOULD ACCEPT IT, BUT I CAN'T DISGRACE THE GREAT TOMB OF NAZARICK AND THE SUPREME ONES."

"… Do Lord Ainz and Lord Oshikuru even want you to win?"

"HUH? WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

"Why did the Supreme Leader build an army of such low-tier minions?"

Cocytus had been wondering the same thing. He didn't see any reason to build an army out of the weakest minions the Great Tomb of Nazarick had to offer.

"HE…, WELL, THEY… MUST HAVE HAD SOME IDEA, BUT WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT ABOUT?"

"I have a few guesses."

I KNEW YOU WOULD. Cocytus didn't say it aloud, but he definitely had quite a bit of respect for the demon.

"So… Cocytus. You've been there for some days. Before attacking, you should have gathered some intelligence on the lizardmen, right?"

That should have been a given. However…

"BUT LORD AINZ ORDERED ME TO TAKE THEM OUT WITH THE ARMY HE PROVIDED IN A HEAD-ON FIGHT."

"Yeah, but I want you to think for a minute, Cocytus. Isn't the most important thing the results you'll offer to Lord Ainz? If your objective was to obliterate the village, shouldn't you have searched for the best way to do that?"

Cocytus had no words to reply with. Demiurge's comments were right on the money.

"He must have had that in mind when giving you those minions."

"…HE GAVE ME A FORCE THAT COULDN'T WIN ON PURPOSE?"

"There's certainly a very good chance. If you had collected intelligence, you might have realized that you didn't have sufficient force to take out all of the lizardmen. Then you would have been able to report back and say to Lord Ainz annihilating them would be very difficult with those troops alone. Perhaps that was his aim?"

In other words, he should have verified his master's true intent, not just follow orders but adjust the operation at his discretion and then acted. That's what Demiurge was saying. And that reminded him of similar words being spoken by the Supreme Ones. Cocytus almost facepalmed.

"It was probably to make you more conscious of these things. I'm sure he had other aims as well, but—"

"OTHER AIMS?" Cocytus asked, flustered. He'd already made one mistake. He didn't want to make any more.

"He sent a messenger to the villages, but never mentioning Nazarick's name. And he told you not to show yourself. That means—"

Cocytus swallowed hard, hanging on Demiurge's every word. But the next ones didn't come.

"Ah! Sorry, Cocytus. Something urgent's come up. Sorry, but that's all. I will be hoping for your victory!" Demiurge cut it short and the [Message] disappeared.

With some idea of what, or better who, would make level-headed Demiurge panic, Cocytus shifted his gaze to the other person in the room. Entoma was carelessly removing a beat-up talisman from her forehead. For a talisman wielder to use one now meant…everything was too late.

It was time to unleash the monster he'd been told to save as a last resort. But was that really what his master wanted him to do?

Cocytus, for perhaps the first time, thought carefully about what intentions might have been hidden in the orders he was given. But in the end, there was only one conclusion to draw.

Cocytus cast Message again. "AN ORDER FOR YOU, ELDER LICH COMMANDER: MOVE OUT. SHOW THE LIZARDMEN YOUR POWER."

His body of skin and bones was wrapped in a splendid but old robe, and in one hand, he clutched a gnarled staff. His rotting face, with a bit of skin stretched over the bones, spoke of dark wisdom. Negative energy rose off his body and hung around him like a mist. This undead caster was an elder lich.

He received the order from Cocytus and glanced at the marsh. Then he gave an order to the three flabby, red-skinned undead immediately behind him, the bloodmeat hulks who had been created in the same way he had.

"Slay those three lizardmen."

Following the order, two hulks began walking toward those who had wiped out the riders. The hulks were low-tier undead who could use muscular strength to punch and little more, but they had regeneration abilities, so it would take a while for an opponent in the same level range to beat them with nothing but simple physical attacks.

The elder lich decided they'd be able to buy him enough time.

Certainly, this was a poor plan. As a caster, the elder lich wasn't terribly strong in a close quarters fight. Having the bloodmeat hulks attend to him would have been the smart strategy.

But he couldn't do that.

The order he was given was to show his power. That meant he needed to use his overwhelming might to devastate the lizardman base on his own.

As he walked, the elder lich crumpled his horrifying face in a chuckle. It was so simple. As an elder lich created by the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown, he was far stronger than Nazarick's auto-spawning elder liches. All he had to do was display that power. He swore on the name given to him by his master that he would win.

"I, Iguvua, will bring victory to the Supreme Leader!"