Overlord (WN)

Chapter Volume 1 85 part3

Hi everyone. Sorry for the late chapter. Greenfish really wanted to release double chapters so he waited until I finished 86. Look forward to that.

Also shout out to Mr M.Z. for being another kind donater. Please tell me if you don’t mind me showing your last name. Thanks for that:)

Various Countries Part 3

Translators: Frostfire10, Skythewood

Editor: Greenfish

Gazef Stronoff silently gazed at the scene outside the premium glass window of the palace.

There were three carriages leaving the palace.

The slowly moving carriage leading the cavalcade was of excellent make and was well designed. There were four well-groomed horses at the harness. The crest of the royal family was engraved together with fine designs on its side.

It was a well crafted item made to show-off the power of the royal family.

Gazef's dissatisfied gaze was fixated on the carriage behind it.

The carriage following it could only be described as inferior. While equally excellent horses were pulling it, there were only two. They were probably there only because they could not fit on the first one. There was no symbol engraved on the side of the carriage. The carriage itself was smaller than the earlier one and when moving next to the other, it's inferiority was obvious.

One could not think of any other purpose for why it was even there; except that it was to accompany the carriage in front.

The carriage at the back was of the same make as the second.

However, the luggage piled inside the carriage was visible. Unlike the first two, this carriage was for carrying baggage. Thus Gazef's dissatisfied gaze was not on it.

"—They have left."

"So it seems."

Gazef was not surprised at the voice that suddenly came from behind him. He had already felt the presence of the man approaching. However, it was the truth that Gazef wished that he did not have to speak to him.

Thinking that it would be rude to continue talking without turning, Gazef turned. In comparison to Gazef who was born a commoner, this man was born a noble and numbered amongst the Kingdom's Six Great Nobles. Hence Gazef had to turn around despite his unwillingness to do so.

The man standing there was best described as snake-like. The brushed back blond hair made his forehead stand out. His skin was a pale white, the lack of a tan suggesting little to no exposure to sunlight.

This person was known as Marquis Raeven.

He was the existence with the most power in the noble faction. To someone like Gazef who served the king directly, he was not a noble that could be snubbed.

However Gazef did not like his attitude; he acted like a bat, fluttering between both sides seeking profit.

"The centre carriage carries the one meeting Ainz Ooal Gown."

"So it seems."

"…Did Gazef-dono wish to go as well?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he is someone I have met before."

"I see…."

Gazef sighed mentally, feeling annoyed that the conversation was continuing. He did not like him, and only gave simple replies; how was there still more to talk about?

Gazef sent an angry gaze at the departing carriage.

The delay of the carriage was due to this very person standing in front of him. If he did not interfere, it would have left the capital earlier.

In fact, this man could be part of the reason why such a shabby carriage was being sent in the first place. Gazef thought as he maintained a poker face.

"Gazef-dono. I would like to ask you, should you do battle with this Gown person, could you win?"

"….This is a difficult question, since magic casters would fight from a far range. If he does so then I definitely cannot win. Rather than myself, I believe [Blue Rose] or [Red Drop] have a better chance at victory?"

"The strongest adventuring groups in the Kingdom? ….Hmm."

"They have various methods to do so. They would fight differently from myself who only knows how to swing a weapon. However…. This may be rude Marquis Raeven, but before asking if we could win, I believe that we should have him be an ally first."

Marquis Raeven showed a wry smile.

"Agreed, it is just as Gazef-dono says. However, I have to consider the worst case scenario."

The cases where preparations for the worst caused it to actually happen were far too many.

Gazef suppressed the desire to put that thought into words. Those were not words that could be said to someone of the (supposedly) same faction.

"Could we not at least prepare a better carriage for the one visiting Ainz-dono?"

"….Impossible. The status of magic casters is not high. Unlike the Empire, our country does not fully back them nor provide any support. We cannot send carriages inappropriate for one's standing."

"Then, could we switch them out in a town along the way?"

"That's an interesting thought, but that would be difficult. The carriage was sent out by order of the king. Switching them would mean disobeying him. And the ones inside."

"Why?"

"The Noble Faction influenced this."

This was the worst.

Gazef did not say anything, and instead groaned.

He knew full well the foolishness of the nobles at that time. The fools who thought that Ainz was nothing more than a simple magic caster.

"Could others have been chosen?"

"….That's impossible. I would like Gazef-dono to recall the noble that opposed you at that time, as he seems to be a relative of the person that was sent. I tried to sent in others with him but it was difficult."

Gazef was surprised.

He felt that Marquis Raeven's evaluation of the magic caster Ainz Ooal Gown was unexpectedly high. Or was it simply gratitude towards him saving the lives of the Kingdom's citizens?

"In the end…. We can only hope that Gown-dono is a good-hearted person, and that the representative can read the mood."

"Ainz-dono seems to be a rational person. So long as nothing too extreme occurs, I believe there will be no problems."

"….Is that so? Then I shall believe it as well." Marquis Raeven's expression contradicted his words. "Well then, Gazef-dono. Farewell."

"Leaving?"

"Yes. I was thinking of returning to my manor. After finishing my work in the capital, I intend to return back to my territory."

"Is that so. It will soon be the harvest season, and there is probably a mountain of work left."

"Agreed. It's the beginning of the busy season. Not only the harvest, but it is around the time that the Empire proclaims war. Thus I have to ready several things."

Gazef made a wry smile at those cynical words. A smile that had no hostility.

Around this time, the Empire would wage a small war. While the nobles understood this, many such idiots felt it troublesome to prepare. They felt that it would be solved if they squeezed the commoners.

On that point, Marquis Raeven's factions properly prepared. While he did not like him, he felt satisfied that he could stand next to such an excellent ally.

"Then, Marquis Raeven. Until we meet again."

"Gazef-dono. Until we meet again."

?

If you had imagined Marquis Raeven's office as some expansive area, you would have been sorely mistaken.

Even for one of the Six Great Nobles, Marquis Raeven stays in one of the most extravagant manors in the capitol and this room was nothing but tiny. Many would be surprised if they knew the exact number of decisions affecting the future of the Kingdom that had been drafted in such a humble, cramped place.

The room was filled with bookshelves; the books and labelled scrolls arranged neatly in a way that hinted at the owner's personality. However, it was not because of these things that the room was so small, although they were part of the reason.

The greatest reason could not be seen by the naked eye.

Raeven's manor was built from bricks coated in stucco. This was customary when it came to the construction of a noble's home. Even his office was no different from the other rooms inside his manor.

But inside those walls.

Copper sheets shielded the entire room.

This was done to interfere with spells used to eavesdrop, observe or detect his location.

Since incorporating copper sheets into walls was expensive, he could not turn a large room into his office.

Raeven made a beeline for this magic-proof office. He crossed over to the other side of his sturdy work desk before flopping down onto his chair, in a way that suggested that he had completely run out of energy.

Then, he covered his face with his hands.

An image one would associate with a middle-aged man worn down by the weight of stress and responsibility, nothing close to a great noble commanding unrivalled power and privilege in the Kingdom.

He mindlessly brushed back a loosely hanging lock of blonde hair.

He then leaned back into his chair, his face contorted. And roared.

"Idiots, each and every one of them!"

Nobody understood the current situation. No, if someone had understood and was taking advantage of the situation, they would be masterful schemers indeed.

Right now, the Kingdom is in great peril.

The Empire's frequent sabre-rattling led to severe problems such as food shortages, and other issues that were starting to precipitate. Everything seemed fine on the surface; ignoring the villages, that is.

The Empire employed professional warriors known as knights, but the Kingdom had no equivalent soldiers among their ranks. To resist the Imperial invasions, they needed to conscript peasants into their levies. This resulted in villages running short on manpower for a period of time.

The Empire was naturally aiming for the harvest season.

During the busiest season for a farm village, the impact of having the adult males, the most important source of labor, go missing for one month could not be overstated. Of course, it was not as if they had never thought of reducing the number of conscripts, but in the face of the Empire's military, who were far better trained and armed, the Kingdom would be powerless without the weight of numbers on their side.

There had been one occasion when a lack of conscripts had resulted in tremendous casualty rates for the Kingdom. They had somehow recovered, but Marquis Raeven fully understood that that was just on the surface.

And even during these circumstances—

"That traitorous filth! This foolish power struggle! Those idiots, fighting over a stupid seat!"

Marquis Brumerush, one of the Six Great Nobles, had betrayed the Kingdom by selling information to the Empire. The nobles had split into two factions and were struggling for dominance. Both princes were eying the succession like dogs feuding over a bone.

"And as for the magic caster Ainz Ooal Gown…. They should treat him with respect! This is a man who can do battle with Camila, the disciple of Landfall!"

Marquis Raeven pounded on his desk repeatedly, venting his anger.

The reason why Marquis Raeven delayed the messenger's meeting with Ainz Ooal Gown was due to a certain piece of intelligence from E-Rantel.

Legends told of a monster known as Landfall, which fell at the hands of the 13 Heroes.

It was a monster of monsters with power capable of easily destroy whole countries. If the disciple of such a being existed, it would be on another level altogether. Internal investigations conducted by E-Rantel adventurer's guild have in fact pointed towards a very high possibility that the vampire Camila is terrifyingly strong.

Which begs the question: how powerful was the magic caster Ainz who could hunt down Camila?

From the information provided by his operatives, Marquis Raeven now had a rather good grasp of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Not a person to be taken lightly.

Hence he tried to buy time, at least until the messenger from E-Rantel arrives, and until he could convince the king of the current situation.

In order to invite Ainz Ooal Gown with as much respect as possible.

It did not go well.

Firstly the messenger from E-Rantel had arrived too late. Marquis Raeven guessed that the messenger, a man working for a Mayor of the Royal Faction, had been held up when he passed through cities controlled by the Noble Faction.

All those bastards doing stupid things.

Marquis Raeven's distorted expression reflected his mood.

"Is there no one thinking about what is important, or at least someone with a brain!"

Strictly speaking, there were. Unfortunately most of them were in Raeven's camp. It would have been normal for the other Great Nobles to have astute people but—

"Idiots, each and every one of them!"

Marquis Raeven shouted.

It was directed at the nobles whose heads were filled with nothing but stupid thoughts.

"—Even so, what should I do? Think, Raeven, think!"

Raeven's frustration grew as his breathing calmed.

He had to think of how to keep the Kingdom alive, even in the face of the dangers ahead.

He had to think of a way to handle the mysterious magic caster.

While it would have been fine to indirectly leak such information, the king was surrounded by the Noble Faction and even a Marquis like himself could not do as he pleased.

While Marquis Raeven was part of the Royal Faction, there were rumours of him working with the Noble Faction. This was true in a sense.

Since the Kingdom was currently split into two,a noble that could mediate between the two and allow for cooperation was necessary to prevent them from truly falling apart. In addition, should the king constantly flaunt his authority, many nobles would be upset and this would separate the Kingdom further.

To avoid this, Marquis Raeven worked behind the scenes. People trusted those similar to them, and were cautious of their opposites. To make nobles drowning in greed trust him, he had to act not as a saint but as a person with greed so strong it shows visibly on his face.

That was why Marquis Raeven had to seem greedy.

There was none more suited as a mediator than him. Nobles viewed the history of one's family and their bloodline as something of great importance. Thus as one of the Six Great Nobles, there were many of the Noble Faction that would force themselves to have conversations with him.

Marquis Raeven acted like a profiteer and interacted with those of the Noble Faction.

That is why he gave off an image of a bat looking for blood to satisfy its greed.

Marquis Raeven did not want to act in such an unbridled manner.

Especially when foolish nobles saw him as one of them and looped him into their disgusting conversations.

However, each side hated each other precisely because they were of the opposing faction. He could not say anything logical to these nobles with the mental age of children. If only they knew about the Kingdom's situation.

Thus Marquis Raeven had to grit his teeth and act like a bat.

While he was part of the Royal Faction, he could not fully cooperate with the king. If he acted for reasons other than for his own gain, there was the chance that the Royal Faction would not trust him. And should the mediator disappear the Kingdom may split completely.

Why did the Empire or Theocracy have to have this plot?

"We can do nothing but invite him to the capital and welcome him best as we can. I should ask the king…. Then I have to prepare a mansion for his stay in the capital…."

This was an extremely passive move, but the current Marquis Raeven could do little.

Marquis Raeven heaved a deep sigh.

Why did he have to do such troublesome things? Marquis Raeven was a Great Noble who was not in charge of domestic affairs. Despite that….

There were times where Marquis Raeven wanted to throw everything away. Why was the whole bunch of them situation-blind? It was like trying to build a sandcastle while being surrounded by little brats trying to kick it down.

It could not be helped that he would develop destructive tendencies in such a situation.

Still, he had a reason for ignoring those impulses and carrying on like he did.

There was knocking on the door.

The sound seemed to come from a lower position than usual. For a moment, Raeven displayed an expression unlike his normal self. Marquis Raeven immediately righted himself and spoke.

"Come in."

The speed with which the heavy door opened indicated how much the other party had been looking forward to it.

On the other side of the door was a child.

He was still a young boy.

The boy's innocent, adorable face was colored with a rosy blush over the pale skin of his cheeks.

He looked to be around five years old, and he padded across the floor, stopping at Raeven's knee.

"Now now, you know you shouldn't be running indoors, it's hardly refined."

A female voice followed the boy over to Raeven. Behind the boy stood a woman.

Her pretty face was shadowed by gloominess. She did not seem very happy. Her clothes were of exquisite make, but their colors were muted.

The woman bowed primly to Raeven, and then she smiled.

With a hint of embarrassment, Raeven returned the smile.

When had his wife started smiling? Suddenly, the memories of those days came unbidden to Marquis Raeven.

When Marquis Raeven had been a younger man, his heart brimmed with the ambition and drive that was the hallmark of youth. And the target of his ambition was the throne.

Aspiring for the throne was a treasonous dream.

The young Marquis Raeven, filled with confidence in his abilities, probably felt that he had no other goal that was worthy of being his lifelong objective. Towards that end, he had worked quietly, expanding his influence, accumulating wealth, spreading his connections, crushing his political enemies—

Taking a wife was nothing more than a part of his plan. As long as he could sell off the position of marchioness at a high price, he did not care what kind of woman he ended up with. As it turned out, she was a beautiful, yet moody woman, but Raeven did not mind. After all, the important thing was the connections he made with his wife's family.

Their home life was ordinary.

No, that was just how Raeven felt it was. He cared for the woman he married as a tool, but there was no love between them.

As fate would have it, it was a tiny thing indeed that changed Raeven.

He turned his eyes to the boy in front of him.

His first thought when he learned he had a son was that he had another tool to use. However, as the newborn clutched at his finger with its tiny hands, something inside Marquis Raeven broke.

This was his son. Plumb, he seemed as much a monkey as a human being. He certainly did not think that it was adorable. Yet, when he felt the warmth that radiated from his finger, everything else suddenly seemed silly.

The throne felt like garbage to him.

The man driven by ambition had passed away at some point.

Then, when Raeven smiled in thanks to his wife that had just given birth to his son, he vividly remembered the expression on her face. It was a funny one, even if he would never say that out loud. It silently asked, "Who is this person?"

Of course, his wife had thought that this was just a temporary change caused by learning that he had an heir. However, Raeven stayed this way, and it made his wife wonder if there was something wrong with him.

In the end, when his wife compared her husband before and after his change, she came to the conclusion that she preferred the new Raeven. Even though she was troubled at times by his behaviour.

Raeven reached down and lifted up his son, who was trying to scale his kneecap.

The boy gurgled in delight as he was placed on Raeven's thigh. He could feel the heat of his body through his clothes.

Now, Raeven had only one objective.

[I want to leave a well-kept domain to my son.] It was a goal that any respectable father would have.

Raeven looked warmly to the boy on his leg, and spoke to him.

"What's the matter-chu? Rii-tan? Chuchu~"

A Great Noble puckered his lips and went "~chu".

Seeing this, the boy, gurgled in delight.

"—Darling, baby-talking to him will spoil his grammar."

"Hmph! Nonsense, that's nothing more than a baseless rumor."

That said, Raeven knew that it would be bad if he raised his son poorly.

Being his son, the boy should have some measure of talent. Or rather, it was fine even if he was not talented, but as parents, they had an obligation to discover or cultivate their child's abilities. As such, it would be bad if they negatively influenced him.

Even so, he refused to give up the loving nicknames for the boy.

"Isn't that right, Rii-tan? What's the matter?"

Raeven ignored his wife's perturbed expression and asked again.

"Ehehehe, well~"

He looked like he wanted to share a secret of some sort, judging from the way he covered his mouth with his little hands. As he saw that movement, the corners of Raeven's eyes drooped.

Then he said something one could never imagine one of the Kingdom's Six Great Nobles would say.

"Well, what is it? Can you tell Papa~n? Uwah~ what is it?"

"Tonight's dinner~"

"Mm, mm!"

"It's Papa's favorite!"

"Uwah! Papa~n will be very happy! ….What's for dinner tonight?"

"It's Gabra fish à la meuniere."

"Is that so— What's wrong!? Rii-tan?"

Raeven saw the unhappy expression on his son's face and frantically followed up with a question.

"I wanted to say it!"

Lightning seemed to flash behind Raeven's back. He made an expression of shock.

"Is that ~chu er, I mean, is that true? Well, then it's Papa~n's fault. Please forgive me. ….Rii-tan, do you want to tell me anything?"

As Raeven looked at her with furrowed brows, his wife, not knowing what to do, covered her face.

"Rii-tan, why don't you tell Papa~n?"

With a hmph of annoyance, the boy jerked his head aside. Raeven looked like he had just experienced a tremendous shock, so despondent that he wanted to die.

"I'm really sorry, Rii-tan, Papa~n is a moron and forgot everything~ Therefore, could you tell me?"

His son glanced at him from the corner of his eye. It would seem he was almost there.

"Not telling Papa~n? Papa~n's going to cry~"

"That ? well, it's Papa's favorite fish~"

"Really now! Papa is so happy to hear that!"

Raeven could not help kissing his son's pink cheeks over and over. It tickled, and so the boy laughed innocently.

"All right, then let's go have dinner!"

"—I don't think it's ready yet."

"….Really now."

It felt like a basin of cold water had been dumped over his head, and an annoyed expression spread over Raeven's face,. It would have been an easy matter to order the chefs to hurry up, but they still needed to follow the appropriate steps to do their work, and those steps had to be executed with specific timing. If he selfishly disrupted their routine, the food would not be as good as it could be.

This was why Raeven did not give those orders, even if he was not happy about the wait. It was also because he wanted his son to have the best meal possible.

"All right, your father is in the middle of work. Let's go."

"Kay~"

Raeven could not hide his loneliness he felt as he heard his son's lively reply.

"Ahem! Wait, actually, I'm done with work."

"Really?"

"Umu. I really am done with work."

"….Is that so? Are you just planning to put it off until tomorrow?"

"…….."

Even if his wife was rolling her eyes at him, Raeven would not let his son down from his knee. In fact, he hugged him tighter.

"…Well, I was already at a dead end anyway, not like I could finish it in a day."

This was not an excuse.

Due to Ainz Ooal Gown, he had a few days free, and had to talk to the king. While Marquis Raeven had to act as soon as possible, he had no pressing issues.

His wife seemed to realize this and nodded several times.

"I understand, but still… it seems really troublesome."

"That's what I said. I don't need more arms or legs to do my work, just good heads."

"How about my brother?"

"Given that running your family's estate is taxing enough as it is, I don't think I could throw more work at him. Do you know anyone else who can be trusted?"

Raeven had already asked this question several times, and his wife had given him the same answer; there's no noble who can work on the same level as you.

The child on his knee opened his mouth as he had a good idea.

"Papa~n, I want to help you to work too~"

"Uwah~ Rii-tan, thank you very much! I love ~chu most of all!"

Raeven did not stop kissing his son as he continued his baby talk.

Even in such a blissful time, he could not stop thinking about that question: Was there really no one else?

Several days later, he would be in a deep collaborative relationship with Renner, but that is a story for later.