Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 8, Chapter 23

Winter's Crown: Act 8, Chapter 23

Chapter 23

8th Day, Lower Fire Month, 0 CE…

“A tribute, you say…”

“Indeed, your majesty!”

From the boldly expressed words alone, Ainz could almost envision the crisp salute of Pandora’s Actor. In the form of Momon, however, the Doppelganger would do no such thing.

While playing out the part of the Dark Warrior, Pandora’s Actor would not launch himself into the mortifying, over-the-top performances of the Treasury Guardian. Additionally, he could not enact the sort of deferential behaviour that the NPCs displayed towards him in public. As such, Ainz ended up in the odd situation where he felt most at ease with the one who normally caused him the most unease.

It was just before noon in E-Rantel, and the Sorcerer King walked with Darkness through the streets in their regular display before the citizens. As usual, the citizens parted fearfully before the Sorcerer King as he went. After encountering Shalltear and her two noble followers weeks ago, he had dared hope that the city was finally warming up to him. However, it had ended up being an isolated incident rather than the indicator of a promising new trend.

Their reverence is stifling, but at least the Demihumans offer ‘tributes’ every once in a while.

Ainz sighed. Did he desire the regard of his subjects to the extent that he considered the Demihumans’ ritualistic gestures as something that qualified as such? Perhaps it was just the lot of a sovereign, and a certain degree of distance would forever lie between a king and his subjects.

“Another tribute, hm,” Ainz said. “Is it really fine for the Demihumans to continue offering them, I wonder?”

“The Humans are familiar with taxation,” Pandora’s Actor replied, “but the Demihumans are still unaccustomed to any such system…well, a few Demihuman traders that come to the city pay trade taxes and tolls, but that’s about the extent of it. Tributes are what the vast majority know, and they have no systems implemented that facilitate the accounting required for taxation in the first place. As much as the administration might desire a larger tax base, the road to full integration will be a long one.”

Much to Albedo’s probable frustration, this much was most likely the case. Even the Quagoa tribes – a unified nation that once numbered the population of a large city – worked on a system of tributes. The tribal leadership of the local Demihumans did not invest in infrastructure or development in the way that Humans or Dwarves did, so they had no need for taxation. In short, the ongoing tributes that they presented were not the act of citizens dutifully paying taxes: they were gestures that displayed their ongoing submission to his strength.

“I suppose that’s true,” Ainz nodded. “Still, proper integration is ideal. My desire is for the Sorcerous Kingdom to be a place where all peoples can live in peace and prosperity, after all.”

He raised his voice as he spoke, surreptitiously glancing about to see how any nearby citizens reacted to his words. Did their expressions brighten? Were there any Demihumans within earshot? He spotted a Human woman looking down fearfully from a shophouse window, cradling a child in her arms. Ainz raised a hand towards her as he passed in the street below, offering a friendly wave. The woman paled and vanished from the window.

It’d be nice if they at least didn’t run away…

“Tch.”

Narberal clicked her tongue. Ainz glanced at the armoured figure of Momon. Was he angry as well? As caustic as her attitude was, Narberal at least wore her heart on her sleeve. Pandora’s Actor, on the other hand, was unreadable behind the heroic façade of the Dark Warrior.

He spotted a Lizardman in the distance making its way to the Demihuman Quarter. In addition to Pinison, her fellow Dryads, and the Treants that accompanied them, the Lizardman tribes could technically be considered the oldest citizens of the Sorcerous Kingdom: coming under Nazarick’s rule nearly a year before the official founding of the nation. They, too, feared him at first, but as Nazarick poured resources into security and infrastructure, they…

Wait a minute…that’s bad, isn’t it?

He had gone from an Undead monster to something akin to a god. Would this happen for other Demihumans as well? Tributes would become offerings, while an appetite for ‘blessings’ in the form of security, infrastructure and food developed as a result. Blue Planet spoke of something similar, once: where primitive societies in Earth’s past developed cults around the aid, supplies and materiel from more advanced civilizations.

Ruling was hard. Striking the appropriate balance for a healthy nation was even harder. While the NPCs would probably think it a matter of course that Ainz Ooal Gown be worshipped as a god, the idea made him squirm. Why did the world itself seem to be hellbent on making his existence uncomfortable?

Maybe he just needed a break. As he thought upon it, it became more and more of an attractive prospect. His independent ventures always seemed to yield new relationships with the peoples that he came into contact with. Perhaps enough time had passed that an excuse to go somewhere would be acceptable. The summer harvest had passed and the administration compiled the results coming from the territories that employed Undead labour, which had turned out just as expected – no, better than expected.

Albedo brought various anomalies to his attention, pointing to the existence of previously unknown production classes possessed by the locals. Proof came in the form of the seemingly arbitrary differences between farms managed by Humans and those managed by Elder Liches. Simply put, all else being equal, land managed by Human Farmers yielded more.

With the optimal growing conditions arranged by Mare, the data outlined differences that ranged from five to fifteen per cent, in five per cent increments. When one considered how many Skeleton labourers each farming household could manage, even those households in the five per cent bracket essentially fed themselves through their class production bonuses alone. It was pure profit for the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Much to Ainz’s relief, Albedo – who once argued that Humans should have no hand in the crucial production processes of the nation – promptly withdrew her assertion in light of the new data. Pandora’s Actor was galvanized by the results, redoubling his efforts to identify more production classes and devise ways to cultivate the Sorcerous Kingdom’s industrial base. All of Nazarick was awed and humbled by the unfathomable wisdom and foresight of Ainz Ooal Gown, including Ainz Ooal Gown himself.

Beyond certain cultural and religious practices that did not grasp the concept in its entirety, the regional populations did not appear to understand that levels and classes existed. Nor did they appear to understand how it dictated every facet of their civilization. It was knowledge definitively possessed only by those from Yggdrasil and, as they appeared to be the only such entities in the region, it could be fully exploited to their advantage.

Yes, things appeared to be going well. Save for his relationship with his native subjects. Going out and meeting new people could potentially solve that. After facing the endless march of reports and paperwork, it would surely be alright to take a break. But where could he go?

Humans felt like a dud. Shortly after he made their acquaintance, they would either distance themselves like Jircniv, set themselves to work like Ainzach or fill their correspondences with tales of their sexual escapades like Nfirea. He didn’t even want to think about Fluder. Gondo and the Dwarven Runesmiths were certainly thankful towards him, but they, too, had thrown themselves into the revival of their craft. And so, Ainz was once again alone. He supposed that he should count himself fortunate that no one he personally knew put him on an insane pedestal like some sort of god.

Ainz considered his options. When it came to the immediate region, he had travelled in every direction but south.

South’s no good. The Theocracy stinks of Players, so who knows what dangers lurk there. Demiurge is working in the southwest, so I don’t want to accidentally mess with his plans. Southeast…

He turned his head, looking up at the skies past the city wall.

The Katze Plains, hm...

He had only been there twice. The first time was as Momon, where he had destroyed an Undead horde encroaching on the borders of the duchy. The second was the Battle of Katze Plains. Both were at the fringes of the area, and he had departed shortly after.

Ainz recalled the scenery: the mysterious ruins that rose out of the wastes, obscured by an ever-present fog. There were rumours of an abandoned metropolis that stood at its heart, haunted by the ghosts of the past. The place practically screamed at him to be explored.

He nodded to himself, the idea set firmly in his mind. He would explore the Katze Plains…provided he could come up with an excuse to do so.

“Was there something that draws your majesty’s interest?”

Ainz focused on his surroundings again, finding himself staring at the sign of the Purple Apothecary.

This guy…why would one of the Undead be interested in a brothel? Don’t tell me…

Narberal was looking at him intently as well. He didn’t want to know what that meant.

“I was thinking about our southeastern border.”

“Hm? Ah – the consolidation of Countess Wagner’s new territory appears to have encountered no problems. A buffer zone of sorts has been established by both Countess Corelyn and Countess Wagner: any wild Undead that appear within five kilometres of their territories are destroyed by patrols.”

‘Wild’ Undead. As part of their ongoing efforts to distinguish the Sorcerer King and his Undead servants from the broadly hostile Undead of this world, the administration had adopted the term and attempted to make its use widespread. It was, however, a term that only made Ainz want to catch them for some reason.

“No intelligent Undead have appeared?”

“From Katze?” Momon adopted a thoughtful pose, “Hm…I haven’t heard of any such occurrence since the founding of the Sorcerous Kingdom. There are rumours of Elder Liches and the like lurking deep within the plains, but it’s all mindless Undead around the fringes. The other nations that border the Katze Plains continue to maintain their own security, so no buildup that leads to the genesis of powerful Undead is permitted to occur unless it happens in the deepest parts of the region.”

What were the chances that he could find one if he went further in? An intelligent Undead that wasn’t of Nazarick presented many interesting possibilities. An Elder Lich that had existed for centuries or millennia would be a priceless trove of information, and he could compare such beings to his own summons to discern where their differences lay. For centuries, the nations that bordered the cursed wasteland met with no success when it came to reclaiming the territory for Human habitation, but it might be possible to repurpose the place as an Undead-inhabited territory of the Sorcerous Kingdom…

…that was, if they could behave themselves. Undead Domination had limits, and Undead citizens attacking the living would have an effect that was decidedly the opposite of what he had been working towards. Well, he would just have to see when he got there.

A shadow crossed over him, and Ainz looked up. They were passing through the southern gatehouse of the city’s second wall.

“The presentation will be held outside?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Pandora’s Actor replied. “I believe the information about it should have come to your attention last week – it ended up being a collaboration of sorts, but it originally started as a gesture of appreciation from the Dwarf Kingdom for the reclamation of Feoh Berkana and the Sorcerous Kingdom’s assistance with their migration.

“Ah, that,” Ainz at least thought he had read something like that. “You mentioned that it was a collaboration: who else was involved?”

“The Frost Giants,” Pandora’s Actor said. “The addition of their artisans sped up the process remarkably.”

The Frost Giants. Now that was a memorable report. Through what appeared to be the influence of a Player from the distant past and a twist of fate involving Cocytus and Shalltear, the Frost Giant tribes of the Azerlisia Mountains had gone from a threat to merchant traffic to loyal subjects of the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Losses were both minimal and easily replaced, while Ainz considered the gains immeasurable. The NPCs had realised much in the way of positive growth and had probably gained confidence in their new responsibilities. As a bonus, the Sorcerous Kingdom had grown due to their actions, extending its sphere of influence over the Azerlisia Mountains and the races that inhabited the area.

“Do you have any thoughts on where the Frost Giants might contribute to the Sorcerous Kingdom?” Ainz asked as they made their way through the military district.

“Their seafaring capability strikes me as the most promising aspect of their people,” Pandora’s Actor replied. “Your foresight on the matter was quite magnificent.”

Huh?

“…my foresight?”

“The visit to the Dwarf Kingdom. Your promise to establish a trade link between their nation and ours with Minister Bloodfallen in attendance. The establishment of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s new army and the beginning of the Adventurer Guild’s expeditions. I find it highly doubtful that so many disparate moving pieces can come together so perfectly without the hand of a supreme architect guiding it from behind the scenes.”

“Ha…”

As ‘Momon’ spoke, Ainz started counting the pebbles at his feet.

“So many moving pieces,” Pandora’s Actor shook his head, “and so many objectives fulfilled at once. In the end, you have secured the Sorcerous Kingdom’s access to the northern ocean and brought a powerful seafaring people into the fold to operate its vessels. Our southern logistics will benefit as well – there has been a need for serviceable vessels in the Katze River system. The most productive territories of the Sorcerous Kingdom will become even more so, and with the ability to navigate the Katze river comes access to the inland sea in the southeast…I see! That’s why you were considering our southeastern border. With such a masterful hand at its helm, a truly bright future awaits this nation.”

Ainz sighed, speechless at the impossibly convenient web of connections that was laid out by Pandora’s Actor.

I need to hire this ‘master architect’ – I wonder if someone can introduce me to him?