Epilogue

The Kingdom's royal capital, Re-Estize.

"The old city" was the best way to describe the capital nine million people called home, not only in the sense that it had history but in other ways as well: the days plodding along, the depressing backwardness, the lack of change.

A mere stroll down its streets was enough to understand.

Many of the houses lining the streets were old and roughly made, completely lacking in dynamism and brilliance. But different people saw it in different ways: there were some who saw a traditional and calm city, while others found it boring and eternally stagnant.

It seemed like the capital would continue to be as it always had, not ever going to change. Even if nothing stays the same forever.

The royal capital had many unpaved roads: as soon as it rained, they became muddy. The sight made it hard to believe this was inside the city. The Kingdom wasn't necessarily underdeveloped, though. It was an error to compare it to the empire or theocracy in the first place.

Since the roads weren't very wide (and no one walked straight down the middle in front of the carriages), pedestrians bunched up along the side of the lanes, making for the picture of squalor. The residents were used to it, so they weaved their way through. They approached one another head-on and deftly dodged at the last second.

The road Sebas was walking down, however, differed from most places in the capital. It was a broad street nicely paved with cobblestones. From a glance to either side, it was easy to see why. The houses lining the street were large and splendid. One could practically smell the affluence. That was because this lively promenade was the capital's main boulevard.

As Sebas walked in his dignified manner, most women in the street turned to watch him, charmed by the refinement of his middle-aged face. Some stared directly at him with obvious passion, but Sebas paid them no mind, only keeping his posture erect and his head forward as he strode on without a single step out of rhythm.

He wouldn't stop until reaching his destination, or at least that was the impression his gait gave, but he suddenly halted and, after looking both ways for carriage traffic, he turned at a right angle to cut across the street.

He headed toward an old woman. She'd set down a frame pack piled high with baggage and was rubbing her ankle beside it.

"What's the matter, milady?"

Perhaps surprised by the sudden question, the old woman had her eyes filled with suspicion as she she raised her head. The moment she saw Sebas's good looks and fine clothes, however, her expression softened.

"You seem to be having some trouble. May I help you?"

"N-no, it's nothing I would trouble you with, sir."

When Sebas smiled, the old woman's cheeks reddened. The charming gentleman's wonderful grin broke through her remaining defenses in an instant. She'd finished business at her stall for the day and was on the way home when she twisted an ankle, which was now giving her a hard time. This main avenue wasn't dangerous, but that didn't mean everyone present was a good citizen. If she asked the wrong person for help, it was possible they'd steal all her goods and profits. She knew things like that actually happened, so she was hesitant to seek help indiscriminately.

So this is a simple matter. "I shall accompany you then. Would you show me the way?"

"Are you sure, sir?!"

"Of course. It's only natural to help someone in trouble."

The woman thanked him repeatedly, and he turned his back to her. "Now please, get on."

"I-I could never!" She sounded embarrassed. "My grimy clothes will soil your fine garments!" But Sebas smiled kindly. What do dirty clothes matter? Such things needn't be taken into account when helping someone in trouble.

Suddenly the faces of his colleagues from the Great Tomb of Nazarick came to mind. He imagined most of them would have dubious looks, furrowed brows, even open contempt. But no matter the feelings of Demiurge, who would probably be the first to react in such a fashion, Sebas believed this was the correct thing to do. It was right to help someone in need. That was the mantra Touch Me tried to live by and he had instilled it into Sebas so deeply when creating him that Nazarick's Iron Butler would not ever feel differently.

She protested several times, but Sebas finally convinced her to climb aboard. Then he hoisted up her pack with one hand. The old woman, just like everyone else who happened to see him easily carrying that apparently very heavy luggage, sighed in admiration.

He set off according to his passenger's directions.


After taking the old woman to her house, Sebas proceeded toward his original destination.

He arrived at a place with a long wall of gray stonework.

Beyond that were three five-story towers. With no buildings higher than that nearby, they seemed especially tall. Those towers were surrounded by several long, thin two-story buildings. This was the headquarters of the kingdom's Wizards' Guild.

They needed spacious grounds because they were developing new spells and training arcane casters. The reason why they had so much land despite receiving barely any support from the government could not be other than because they were the sole producers of magical items in Re-Estize.

Eventually the sturdy-looking gate came into view. The latticed door was open wide and multiple armed guards occupied the two-story towers on either side.

The guards didn't stop Sebas, just glanced at him, and the old man went through the gate. Right ahead there was a broad, gently sloping staircase and a door leading to an impressive, old white-walled building. Of course, the door was open to welcome wizards and visitors. Especially clients like him.

Inside was a small entrance hall and then a lobby. From the double-height ceiling hung several chandeliers burning with magic light. On the right was the lobby lounge, which had several sofas and a few casters engaged in conversation. On the left side was the board. Figures clad in robes appropriate for arcane casters and people who seemed adventurers were studiously observing the pieces of parchment posted there. In the back of the lobby, a few young men and women were seated behind a counter. They each wore a robe with the emblem displayed at the building entrance embroidered on their chests.

To either side of the counter stood what resembled life-size mannequins, slender figures with no eyes or noses: wood golems. Apparently, they were guards. The lack of human guards, except for the ones outside, was likely a display of the wizards' guild confidence.

Sebas's measured footfalls clicked across the floor as he approached the counter.

A young man at the counter noticed him and communicated a modest salutation with his eyes. Sebas gave a slight bow in return. He visited often, so they knew each other.

The young man smiled in a barely perceptible way when Sebas arrived in front of him. There you are, my favourite customer. Respectful and full of money!

He greeted the client as always. "Welcome to the wizards' guild, Sir Sebas. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to buy a magic scroll. May I see the usual list?"

"Yes, sir."

The young man quickly put a rather large book on the counter. He'd probably secretly gotten it ready the moment he caught sight of Sebas. The book was a splendid item with high-quality thin white paper inside and a leather cover. Considering the letters of the title were sewn in with gold thread, this item itself had to be worth quite a bit.

Sebas pulled the book nearer and opened it.

Unfortunately, the writing was not in letters he could read. Or rather, no one from Yggdrasil would be able to read them. Even if they could understand spoken language through some strange law of this universe, writing was different.

But Sebas had received an item from his master to resolve just such a problem. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a case, and opened it. Inside was a pair of the most precious eyeglasses in all of Nazarick: Sebas would immediately kill whoever tried to steal them no matter his kindness.

The extremely slim frames were made of a metal similar to silver. At a closer inspection, one could make out tiny characters, like crests, etched into them. The lenses were blue frost crystal, cut and polished thin. When he put on the glasses, he was magically able to read the letters unknown to him.

While carefully yet quickly turning the pages, Sebas's hand suddenly stopped as he felt a gaze on himself. He looked up from the book and addressed the onlooker, a young woman sitting next to the man he'd been speaking with.

"Did you need something?"

"Oh no…" The girl blushed and lowered her eyes. "I was just thinking…you have nice posture."

"Thank you." He smiled faintly and the woman's face turned even redder.

Sebas was a white-haired gentleman people fell for just from looking at him. Not only did his attractive features did draw attention, but his air of elegance as well. Whenever he walked down the street, nine out of ten women, regardless of age, turned to watch him. If the woman at reception lost herself staring at him, there was nothing to be done, and it happened often enough, anyway.

Now that he understood the situation, Sebas turned back to the book. He stopped again on a specific page and asked the young man, "Could you give me a detailed description of what this spell, Floating Board, does?"

"Yes, sir." He began the explanation without missing a beat. "Floating Board is a tier-one spell that creates a translucent hovering board. The size of the board and maximum weight limit depend on the caster's magical energy, but when it's cast with a scroll, the board is about three feet squared and the weight limit is one hundred and ten pounds. The board can only go up to 5 m away from the caster and he can have it follow them. Still, it only follows, it's not possible to push it forward; and if the caster should turn around, it'll slowly circle around to remain at the rear. It's a spell that is generally used for carrying things, often seen on public works construction sites."

"I see." Sebas nodded. "Then I would like to buy one of these."

"Yes, sir."

The young man showed no surprise at Sebas buying a scroll of a spell that wasn't terribly popular, the reason being that Sebas almost always bought rather uncommon spells. Actually, the wizards' guild was grateful for it, since it helped getting rid of their excess inventory.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, please."

The receptionist nodded slightly at the man sitting next to him.

He who had been listening to the conversation, stood up immediately, opened a door in the rear wall that led to the back warehouse and went in. Scrolls were very expensive. It would not do any good to just have big stacks of them there at the counter, even if the place was guarded.

About five minutes later, the man returned. In his hand was a single rolled-up piece of parchment.

"Here you are, sir."

Sebas examined the scroll on the counter. The rolled-up parchment seemed very sturdy and looked different from run-of-the-mill writing material. The spell's name was written on it in black ink and Sebas made sure it matched the spell he had requested. Then he took off the glasses.

"Yes, that's the one. I'll take this, please."

"Thank you." The young man politely bowed his head. "This scroll is a tier-one spell, so that will be one gold and ten silvers."

Of course, even if a scroll for a 1st tier spell was relatively cheap, it was still quite a sum for the ordinary person: it was a month and a half's salary. But for Sebas, or rather for the master Sebas served, it was not so much. Or at least that's what the butler thought.

Sebas took a small leather pouch from his breast pocket, loosened the opening, removed eleven coins and gave them to the young man.

"With exact change." The receptionist didn't do anything like checking to make sure that the coins were proper currency in front of Sebas. He had become a frequent enough customer to have built that kind of trust. The two slightly bowed to each other and then the Iron Butler left with the same dignity he always had.


"That old man is so cool!"

"Totally!"

As soon as Sebas had left the wizards' guild, the receptionists, especially the women, chatted together excitedly. They acted more like girls who had met the prince they pined for rather than women of poise and intelligence. One of the men behind the counter had a slightly jealous frown on his face, but he didn't say anything because he himself could see how elegant Sebas was.

"He must have experience serving a pretty important noble. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the third son of a noble himself!"

Nobles who didn't inherit their houses often became butlers or maids, and the higher a noble's rank, the more likely they were to specifically hire this type of person. Sebas's bearing was so impeccable, it made sense to think he must have been of noble blood.

"He carries himself so beautifully."

Everyone seated behind the counter nodded.

"If he invited me to tea, I'd definitely go!"

"Yeah, me too! Definitely!"

The girls squealed.

The men talked among themselves with sidelong glances at the girls, who were still going on and on about how he probably knew tremendously sophisticated places and how he'd do absolutely everything an escort should.

"He seems to be incredibly knowledgeable. Do you think he's a caster?"

"I wonder. Maybe."

All the spells he chose had been developed only recently. From that, they could infer that he had some degree of magical knowledge. If he were simply coming to buy something on orders from a superior, he shouldn't have needed to look at the book: he could have just asked for the scroll by name. The fact that he didn't do so but consulted the reference himself meant that Sebas was the one choosing what to buy. So it was only natural to think that he was no mere old man but had to be someone with specialized magic education: a caster.

"And those glasses… They looked really expensive."

"I wonder if they're magic."

"Nah, they just seem like high-quality glasses—made by dwarves or something."

"Yeah, it's amazing he has such fancy glasses."

"I wanna meet that pretty lady he brought with him that one time again," one man murmured, but he was met with disagreement.

"Really? She seemed kinda all appearances and nothing else, you know?"

"Yeah, I felt bad for Sebas. Seems like she really works him hard."

"She was pretty, but her personality's definitely awful. Even the way she was looking at us was the worst. I really pity him having to serve someone like that."

The men fell silent as the women began criticizing the lady. Sebas' master was a peerless beauty, the type who could steal hearts in the blink of an eye. The women in there were beautiful enough to be chosen to represent the wizards' guild, but the difference between them and her was night and day. The guys wanted to tell them, Don't be jealous, but it was obvious what would happen if they did that.

None of them was that stupid, so…

"Okay, that's enough chatter." The young man spotted an adventurer walking toward the counter and the group immediately changed their focus and expressions.


Exiting the wizards' guild, Sebas casually checked the sky.

Things had taken longer than planned because he'd escorted that old woman home and the blue was gradually turning the deep red he'd seen on that girl's cheeks.

When he took his watch out of his breast pocket, it was already around the time he'd planned to be home, but he still hadn't finished his errand. It's fine if I leave it for tomorrow, so should I put it off? Or should I get home later than planned but finish everything today?

He hesitated only a moment.

The incident with the old woman had been his own doing, so he needed to fulfill his duties.

"Shadow demon…", he called. A presence squirmed in Sebas's shadow. "Please tell Solution and Celicia I'll be back late. That is all."

There was no answer, but the presence stirred and receded, moving from shadow to shadow.

"Now, let's go" murmured Sebas as he set off walking.

He didn't have a specific destination; he was attempting to get a complete picture of the capital's geography. That was totally opposite of Celicia's goal. While she was looking for the illegal brothel her sister was most likely being held, he had been specifically ordered not to do so: Celicia was the only one tasked with finding Tuareninya, only then would Nazarick's power be used to rescue her. Or at least that was the plan. This was just due to him voluntarily deciding to mentally map the city as part of his own intelligence gathering. Even if he secretly wished to bump into the place the young girl was desperately looking for to ease the pain of both sisters as soon as possible. By covering a different part of the city a day, he hoped to find that brothel.

"Okay, I guess today I'll go that way," he murmured, stroked his beard and twirled the scroll he carried in one hand. He was acting like a kid in a good mood. He walked farther and farther away from the safe area at the center of the capital. After he turned and continued down several roads, the alleys started getting a bit dirty and sending a faint but unpleasant smell. It was the stench of raw garbage and filth. It seemed like it would permeate his clothing, but Sebas strode silently on.

He stopped abruptly and looked around. Perhaps because he was on a total backstreet, the alley was so narrow there was only enough room for two people to pass by each other. Since the sun was low behind the tall, deserted buildings on either side of the small alley, no light came in and it would have been difficult for a human to walk there. But Sebas didn't have any problem with that. He walked with noiseless steps, melting into the growing darkness. He turned several corners and proceeded to even more deserted areas, when suddenly his unhesitating steps stopped again.

He'd arrived here by walking aimlessly as his whims dictated, but he'd ventured quite a ways from the house that was his base. He had a general instinctive sense of where he was and h e drew an imaginary line from there to his base in his mind. With Sebas's physical strength, it wasn't such a long distance, but that was if he walked in a straight line. If he followed the streets, it would take quite a while. Considering night was falling, it was probably a good idea to head back.

He wasn't worried about Solution or Celicia, though. Even if an unknown yet incredibly powerful enemy appeared, there was a monster in their shadows, just as there was one in Sebas's. It could definitely buy enough time to run away. Still, they didn't have a World Item. "Guess I'll go home."

It was true that he wanted to stroll a bit more, but he doubted it was very good to allot too much time to something that was practically a hobby as he was sure Celi would find Tuare way sooner than he ever could. But even if he was going to withdraw, he wanted to at least see what was up ahead, so he continued down the small alley.

As Sebas proceeded silently through the darkness, a heavy-looking iron door about 15 m ahead of him began slowly opening with a grating sound, without warning, and light spilled from inside. Sebas stopped and watched in silence to see what would happen.

Once the door was all the way open, a person's face poked out. The backlighting allowed Sebas to see only the silhouette, but it appeared to be a man's. Without scanning the road, he tossed a rather large cloth bag outside with a thud. Sebas could see its soft contents bend and change shape by the light escaping through the door.

Although the door was still open, the man who had thrown the bag like it was trash seemed to have gone back inside for the moment and didn't do anything else. Sebas furrowed his brow for a moment and wondered whether he should stay his course or go in a different direction. It seemed like a bad situation. But after some brief indecision, he decided to continue down the narrow alley now that it was quiet again.

"…Unf!"

The opening of the big bag ripped.

Sebas's steps echoed along the alley, finally closing the distance between him and the bag.

As he was about to pass it, he stopped. He felt a faint sensation as if his slacks had caught on something. He looked down and saw what he expected: a hand.

A bony hand reaching out to grab the cuff of his pants. And a half-naked woman coming out of the bag. The mouth of the sack was wide open now, and the woman's upper body was free.

Her blue eyes had lost their spark and gone dull. Her disheveled shoulder-length hair was coarse due to malnutrition. Her face had been beaten until it swelled up like a ball. Her skin, dry as a dead tree, was covered with countless pink spots the size of fingernails. There was not so much as a thimbleful of life left in her emaciated body. Whoever she was, Sebas was sure her mother would not be able to recognise her. She was already a corpse. No, she wasn't dead, of course. The fact that she'd snatched Sebas's cuff spoke volumes to that. But can an organism that is only capable of breathing be said to be alive?

"…Could you let go, please?"

There was no response to Sebas's request. It was clear at a glance that she wasn't ignoring him. Her eyes reflected nothing, cast into space through the barely open slits below her swollen eyelids. If Sebas moved his leg, he could easily shake off the fingers weaker than dead branches. But instead, he asked, "… Are you in trouble? If so—"

"Hey, old man, where'd you come from?" a threatening voice interrupted.

The man from before had reappeared in the doorway. He had a big chest and thick arms. Hostility clearly showed on his scarred face as he turned his penetrating gaze on Sebas. In his hand, he held a lantern glowing red.

"Hey, hey, hey, old man. Whaddaya lookin' at?" The man loudly clicked his tongue and gestured with his chin. "Get lost. If you leave now, you can get home safe."

When he saw Sebas wasn't moving, he took a step forward. Behind him, the door closed heavily. As a threat, the man placed the lantern near his feet with exaggerated purpose. "Hey, old man! You goin' deaf? Can't you hear me?" He rotated his shoulders and stretched his neck. He slowly brought his right hand up and curled it into a fist. It was clear he wasn't the type who hesitated to use violence.

"Hmm…" Sebas smiled. He could be described as an elderly gentleman with a profound smile that put people at ease and made them feel cared for. So why did the man back up a step as if a predatory beast had suddenly arrived?

"Ahh, hey, hey, wh—" Under the crushing pressure of Sebas's smile, words that weren't words trickled from the man's mouth. Without even realizing that his breath had grown ragged, he backed up farther.

Sebas tucked the scroll in his hand, with the wizards' guild seal on it, into his belt. Then he took one measured step toward the man to close the distance between them and reached out. The man couldn't even react. Almost without a sound, the hand clutching Sebas's slacks fell onto the street. With that as the signal, Sebas grabbed the man's collar with his outstretched arm and lifted him up with no trouble.

Had there been any witnesses to this scene, they would have thought it was a joke. Judging the two on appearances alone, Sebas would have no chance against this man. Youthfulness, breadth of chest, girth of arms, height, weight, and aura of violence: he was beat in any category. But the elderly gentleman was lifting up this robust, heavyweight-class guy with one hand.

But someone sharp enough witnessing this scene would have felt the gap between the two men. It's said that the intuitions of humans, their animal instincts, are dull, but someone experienced in the way of violence would have been able to detect this gap. The difference between Sebas and this man was the difference between an absolute strength and an absolute weakness.

The man, who had been lifted completely off the ground, kicked both legs and squirmed. Then he tried to take hold of Sebas's arms and the fear born of sudden realization shone in his eyes. It had finally dawned on him that the old man before him was something completely different from what he appeared, that any futile struggling would only further anger the monster. Then he stood still.

"This woman, what is she?" The quiet voice sounded in the petrified man's ears.

The voice flowed with the quiet of a clear stream. It was terrifying precisely because it clashed with the context, how he was effortlessly holding a man aloft with one hand.

"A-an employee of ours," the frantic man replied in a voice cracking with fear.

"I asked you what she is and your answer is an employee?"

The man wondered if he had said something wrong. But in this situation, that answer should have been the most accurate. The man's bulging eyes flitted around like he was a petrified little animal.

Sebas spoke again. "I have friends who treat humans as things. I thought perhaps you might treat them that way as well. Even in that case, I wouldn't say you're doing anything wrong. But you told me she's an employee. That means you're taking this actions despite recognizing her as a person. Then allow me to ask another question. What will happen to her now?"

The man thought for a moment, but there came a noise like a creak.

Sebas's grip strengthened, and the man suddenly found it more difficult to breathe.

"Gugh!" He let out a strange scream.

Sebas's meaning was clear: I'm not giving you any time to think: just talk.

"She… she's sick so we're taking her to the shrine."

"I'm not very fond of lies."

"Kgh-eegh!" The man let out another bizarre shriek, his face reddening with every increasing application of force from Sebas's hand.

Even if Sebas made the massive concession of assuming this person had put the woman in the bag to transport her, the fact that she'd been tossed into the road gave no indication of the care of one taking her to a shrine for treatment. It had been more akin to throwing out the trash.

"Sto— Gah!" Now struggling to breathe, the pinned man began fearing for his life and flailed about wildly without thinking. Sebas intercepted the fists coming at his face without trouble. The man's kicks connected with his body and dirtied his clothes, but the older man didn't budge. Of course he didn't. Something so insignificant as a human's feet would never affect a giant lump of steel. Sebas continued speaking, unfazed as if the kicks from the thick legs didn't cause him any pain.

"I recommend telling the truth."

"Gagh…"

Sebas squinted up at the man whose face had now gone crimson from lack of air. Aiming for the moment right before the man passed out, he let go.

The man crashed down on the road with a loud thud.

"Gehgyaaagh!" The man expelled the last remnants of air in his lungs.

Sebas stared down at him as he gasped for oxygen and then reached his hand toward his neck again. "Whoa, w-wait a minute!" Enduring the pain and thoroughly impressed with fear, the man rolled away from Sebas's outstretched hand. "I— Yes, I was going to take her to the shrine!"

"That's a lie, isn't it? You're tougher than you look.

Sebas had thought the man would break immediately under the terror of suffering and death, but although he was scared, he didn't seem ready to talk so easily. That meant the danger he would face after leaking information was equal to the threat Sebas posed.

Sebas considered changing his vector of attack. This was, in a way, enemy territory. The fact that the man wasn't yelling to request backup from inside probably meant he didn't expect anyone to come quickly. Still, if he stayed too long, it would surely make things more complicated. Lord Ainz hadn't ordered him to cause trouble. The order he'd received was to blend in and to quietly gather intelligence, at least until Celicia found her sister's whereabouts.

"If you were going to take her to the shrine, then I don't suppose there is any issue if I'll bring her there myself, right? I will take custody of her now."

The man's shocked eyes darted around. Then he desperately strung some words together.

"…There's no proof you'll actually do it."

"Then why don't we go together?"

"… I have an errand to run now, so I can't. That's why I'm taking her later on."

Sensing something from Sebas's expression, he quickly continued. "She's legally ours. If you lay a hand on her, you'll be violating this country's laws! Just try and take her. That's abduction!"

Sebas froze and furrowed his brow for the first time. This argument had struck a critical location.

His master had said attracting attention to some degree was unavoidable, but that was necessary while playing the butler of a rich man's daughter. If he broke the law, then the authorities would be involved and there was a chance someone would see through his disguise. In other words it could directly cause a huge fuss and he would attract the kind of notice his master didn't desire.

Sebas had a hard time believing this coarse man was educated, but right now his words seemed to overflow with confidence. Someone must have put these ideas about laws into his head. If that was true, there was a good chance this defense would hold. Now, with no witnesses present, it all was a simple matter. He could physically force his captive to talk and, or, he could leave a corpse here by simply snapping the man's neck. But that was his last resort, to be used only in the event that this situation threatened to affect his master's plans. He couldn't just do that for this woman he didn't even know. So does that mean the correct thing to do would be to abandon her?

The man's vulgar laugh irritated Sebas as he vacillated. "Should such a splendid butler take on a big problem like this and keep it a secret from his master?"

Sebas frowned openly at the grinning man for the first time. The man must have gleaned a hint of weakness from his reaction. "I dunno what noble you serve, but…if this blows up, won't it cause trouble for him? Huh? And what if he has a good relationship with us? He'll get pissed, won't he?"

"You think my master can't handle a little thing like this?! Rules exist to be broken by the powerful, you know."

"The man flinched a bit as if he had an idea how that worked, but he regained his confidence a moment later. "…So you wanna try it, then? Huh?"

"Hmm…" It didn't seem Sebas's bluff was going to make the man stand down. Does he truly have such a powerful backer? Sebas judged this line of attack to be ineffective and switched angles.

"I see. Yes, this does seem like it could be troublesome, legally speaking. But there is a provision in the law that allows forcible rescue if someone does call for aid. So I'm simply helping her in line with this clause. To begin with, she's injured, so she needs to visit the shrine for treatment, yes?"

"Mnn… but… that's…" The man mumbled, at a loss.

His ignorance was exposed.

Sebas was relieved at the man's inability to act and slow-working brain. He'd just told a huge lie, or at least something that sounded plausible, since his opponent had brought up legalities. If the man were to counter with another argument, even a lie, Sebas didn't have enough knowledge of the laws of this country to fight back. In the end, he had only a smattering of legal knowledge and not studying it more thoroughly was what had landed him in this situation. Someone with only a fragmentary understanding of the law would hesitate when it was brandished in a fight. Plus, this man had to be an underling. He probably didn't have the authority to make any decisions on his own.

Sebas turned away from the man and held up the woman's head. "Do you want me to help you?" he asked. Then he brought his ear to the woman's dry, chapped lips. What he heard was a faint breathing, respiration that could be mistaken for the last gasp of a deflating balloon. There was no reply. Sebas shook his head slightly and asked again, "Do you want me to help you?"

Helping her was completely different from helping the old lady. He wanted to assist others when he could, but if he got involved with this woman, there was a good chance it would lead to a fair amount of trouble. And as he considered whether the Supreme Leader would forgive him or if this went against his will, a cold wind blew through his heart. Still, no reply came from the girl.

The man quietly laughed that vulgar laugh again. As someone who understood what hell she had been in, he knew there would be no reply. Also, if she had been able to speak freely, they probably wouldn't have tried disposing of her like this. True luck would not occur twice in a row, things that happened so frequently couldn't be called luck. No, if grabbing Sebas's slacks had been the girl's luck, she wasn't going to receive a windfall again. Her fortune had been that Sebas happened to come down this alley at the right moment. Everything that occurred after, she had achieved it with her desire. In spite of all the pain she'd suffered, she would not give up. Her mind was screaming, I wanna live! Please ake me away from here!

It was definitely not luck. A slight movement… Yes, her lips made a truly feeble movement. It was not an automatic one, like for breathing. It clearly contained her intent.

"…Save… me..."

Upon hearing what she whispered, Sebas nodded emphatically. "… I am not interested in saving everyone who asks me for help like a plant expecting to bathe in the rain from the heavens. Still, when someone is struggling to survive…" Sebas's hand moved to cover the woman's eyes. "Let go of your fear and rest. You are under my protection now."

Clinging to his warm, kind touch, she closed her vacant eyes.

The man couldn't believe it, so naturally, he tried to say what was on his mind. "It's a lie—".

"A lie, you say?" At some point, Sebas had stood up, and now the gleam in his eyes pierced the man, stopping his voice. Those brutal eyes. The man's breath caught, it felt like his heart would be crushed under such a gaze, one that seemed to weigh on him with physical pressure.

"Are you saying that I lied the way you did?"

"Ah, nn, uh…" The man gulped loudly, swallowing the spit that had pooled in his mouth. His eyes moved to Sebas's arms and stuck there like glue. After getting ahead of himself, he remembered his fear.

"Well, I'm going to take her and go now."

"W-wait—I mean, please wait!" The man raised his voice and Sebas glanced at him.

"You still have something to say? Are you trying to buy time?"

"N-no. If you take her away, there's going to be trouble. For you and for your master! You've heard of the Eight Fingers, I'm sure!"

Sebas remembered hearing the name during his intelligence gathering. It was a criminal organization that dominated the kingdom's underground world.

"So I'm tellin' ya, just pretend you didn't see anything. If you take her away, I'll have failed at my job, and they'll punish me!"

Realizing he couldn't win with strength, the man tried for pity, but Sebas turned a chilly gaze on him and answered in an icier voice. "I'm taking her and going."

"Give me a break! They're gonna kill me… and you as well!"

Should I kill him now? Sebas thought. The man's moaning continued as he calculated out the pros and cons. It was possible the man was buying time because he was waiting for help, but Sebas judged from his attitude that that wasn't the case. But he couldn't figure out why.

"Why haven't you called for assistance, then?"

Stunned, the man rapidly explained.

Essentially, if Sebas were to escape while he was calling for help, it would be as good as reporting to his compatriots that he'd made a critical error. And he didn't think he'd be able to win by force even if he called them. That was why he was trying to persuade Sebas to change his mind. He was so pathetic that Sebas suddenly felt the strength drain out of him, and his urge to kill went away. Still, it didn't mean he was going to hand over the woman.

"…Why don't you run away?"

"That's not an option. I don't have that kind of money."

"I doubt it costs as much as your life itself, but… anyhow, I'll pay for it."

At those words, the man's face brightened.

Sebas knew it would be safer to kill him as that man had seen his face, but leaving behind a dead body would probably anger Eight Fingers even more. While if he could get the thug to make a run for it, that would buy lots of time. Then he could heal the woman and take her someplace safe.

Besides, if Sebas killed him here, there was a good chance they'd launch a search for the missing woman as well as for the killer. Since it was unclear how she had gotten in this situation, it wasn't possible to conclude that his actions wouldn't endanger people who knew her. Mulling it over, the Iron Butler wondered why he was doing something so risky.

He truly couldn't fathom where the ripple in his heart that caused him to try to save her had come from. Anyone else from Nazarick would have probably ignored her to avoid trouble. They all would have most likely stayed hands-off and kept walking.

When someone's in trouble, it's only natural to help them.

Sebas put aside the workings of his heart even he could not explain, since he didn't need to be thinking about them right now and tried to use logic. He needed a good enough explanation, or at least an excuse, to tell his colleagues and, if necessary, his master. Suddenly, it came to him as if it had always been in a corner of his mind. Wait, what if this place is that illegal brothel Celicia's been desperately looking for since we have arrived in the city? Then this girl will probably know something about her sister… and for all I know, she might be her! Yes, it'd be wrong for me to abandon this girl. Lord Ainz has promised to save Celicia's sister and I'm just doing my part.

Relieved and interested to find out more about that, he turned to the man. But there was no more time to waste. I'll learn more later on, now let's get going. "Take this money, hire an adventurer or something and run with all your might."

He took out a leather pouch. The man's eyes were doubtful. Perhaps he didn't feel the amount in the small bag would be enough. The next moment, his eyes were riveted on the coins falling onto the street. They sparkled revealing what they were: platinum trade currency. Ten coins worth a fortune each lay on the ground.

"Run as fast as you can. You understand, right? And I have a few questions. Do you have time to answer?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I came out to dispose—er, to take that woman to the shrine, so they'll assume I'm a little late coming back."

"Understood. Then let's go." With that, he jerked his chin to say follow me, picked up the woman and set off walking. I hope I'm doing the right thing, he thought.