Chapter 35: The Bone King Arrives & Legends
Lucian stood at the study window, watching the small town on the hillside below light up one lantern at a time as evening settled in.
A knock at the door.
"Come in."
"Siel" pushed the door open. Her pace was a little quicker than usual, but that face still wore its standard thirteen-year expression of despondency. Only those amber-brown eyes seemed to carry something slightly different from their ordinary vacancy.
She crossed to the desk and set a sheaf of papers on it.
"News from E-Rantel."
Lucian turned.
"The Sunlight Scripture has gone silent." Elis's voice was as flat as someone reading out an unimportant report. "Three days ago, the Sunlight Scripture unit the Theocracy had deployed on a mission to the northern plains of E-Rantel failed to return on schedule. Subsequent search parties found no trace of them."
Lucian's breath paused for a moment.
"And then." Elis drew another sheet from the stack. "Latest registration data for adventurer parties in E-Rantel."
She placed it on top.
Lucian looked down.
The handwriting was precise, recording every party registered the previous day. His gaze moved through the names, and stopped.
"Momo" — warrior, estimated level unknown.
"Nabe" — magic caster, estimated level unknown.
"Darkness" — two-person party, registered as copper-rank adventurers, specific strength unknown.
Lucian's fingers moved slowly across those lines.
"The coordinates where the Sunlight Scripture went silent." His voice was very quiet, almost as though he were speaking to himself.
"Northern plains of E-Rantel. Near Carne Village." "Siel" answered.
Lucian closed his eyes.
"Momon." "Nabe." The Sunlight Scripture's silence. The timing matched.
Ainz Ooal Gown.
He had arrived.
And the early plot trajectory had not changed. For Lucian, that was everything.
Lucian opened his eyes and looked out the window. The sky had gone completely dark. The lanterns of the town below burned like stars, one by one, dotting the darkness.
He only stood there, watching those lights, and was silent for a long time.
Then he turned.
"Siel."
"Yes."
"Send a message to the Supreme Pontiff." Lucian's voice was steadier than even he expected. "Tell him: 'The God of Judgment is aware.' He is to proceed as planned."
"Siel" gave a small nod, turned, and left.
The door closed quietly.
The study held only Lucian.
The lights outside still burned. Their glow fell across his face, light and shadow crossing, stretching his silhouette long and dark on the wall behind him.
Lucian looked at those lights, and found himself thinking of something Lakyus had said to him under the moonlight, many years ago.
"It's begun," Lucian said softly.
* * *
Momon and Nabe, having accepted the escort mission for Enri, set off on a new journey.
The sky was just beginning to lighten at the horizon when they left E-Rantel. The sound of the cart wheels on the stone road was particularly crisp in the early morning air, startling a handful of sparrows foraging near the city gate.
Nfirea sat in the driver's seat, reins in hand, turning now and then to check on the medicine bottles packed tightly into the cart behind her.
E-Rantel's north gate cast long shadows in the morning light, pulling every person's silhouette out thin and dark, like brushstrokes drawn on the ground.
Once past the city, the road grew rough. The wheels ground over loose stones and muddy patches, making a rattling, creaking sound. The farmland on either side of the road gradually gave way to wild grass. In the distance, a forest rose like a dark green wall across the horizon.
Nfirea held the reins from the driver's seat. Peter walked on the left side of the cart, Dyne and Ninya on the right, with Ainz and Narberal bringing up the rear. It was Peter's formation — the rear of the cart was the most vulnerable position to ambush and required the strongest members to cover it.
Just past midday, heavy footsteps came from the trees ahead.
"Contact." Lukrut stopped and drew his bow to full.
Four ogres and more than ten goblins emerged from the tree line. Peter quickly called positions — he and Dyne would hold the front, Ninya to cover with defensive magic, Lukrut to pick off targets at range.
"Does Momon-sir need support?" Peter asked.
"No." Ainz reached back and slowly drew both greatswords. The blades caught the sunlight and threw off a blinding glare, drawing a sharp breath from everyone present.
Lukrut loosed an arrow deliberately wide, landing ten meters from the goblins. The goblins sneered and charged, the ogres right behind them. The formation spread as they sprinted, the ogres pulling ahead.
Dyne cast. Plants erupted from the earth and wrapped themselves around an ogre's legs.
Ainz moved to meet the ogre in the lead. He swung his right hand and the greatsword drew a silver-white arc through the air. The ogre's upper half slid to the ground, leaving only the lower half standing.
A single stroke. Clean through.
The battlefield went instantly silent.
Ainz didn't slow down. His left hand swung out horizontally and the second greatsword caught the next ogre across the middle.
"A monster..." Dyne murmured.
The remaining two ogres turned and ran. Ainz made no move to chase, only said calmly: "Nabe."
"Lightning."
Thunder cracked. Two bolts of lightning tore through the fleeing ogres, catching the entangled one as well. The goblins scattered screaming, but the Swords of Darkness moved through them methodically and cleared the field.
When the fighting was done, Ninya went about cutting ears from the monsters with practiced ease. Ainz was looking around the ogre carcasses as though searching for something.
"Something wrong?" Ninya asked.
"Ah... I was wondering whether these creatures might drop items. Crystals, that kind of thing."
Ninya looked puzzled, but answered. "I've never heard of ogres carrying gemstones."
"As expected." Ainz gave a small nod.
"But..." Ninya kept cutting as she spoke. "Momon-sir really is extraordinary. I knew you were a warrior confident in your own ability, but I didn't expect this."
Peter and the others gathered around, their admiration genuine. Narberal stood nearby looking proud. Ainz only kept waving a hand. "You flatter me. It was nothing more than circumstance."
"Circumstance..." Peter smiled wryly. "After watching that, I think I finally understand what it means when people say there's always someone stronger."
"I'm sure everyone here could surpass me easily enough."
That line deepened the wry expressions considerably. For everyone watching, the level Ainz occupied was a peak that only a handful of people in the world ever reached.
The sun moved toward the west. Peter looked up at the sky and raised a hand to halt the group.
"We'll stop here for today. Camp at that clearing up ahead."
Everyone made a sound of assent and began the practiced work of unloading gear and pitching tents. Ainz helped too — driving stakes, running perimeter rope — while Narberal followed behind him wearing every sign of reluctance without actually refusing.
By the time the camp was up, the sky had gone completely dark. The campfire was lit, its orange-red light leaping across every face, pulling shadows into shapes that stretched and shortened.
Nfirea brought rations and dried meat down from the cart, and Dyne took the ingredients and set about making soup. Before long, the smell of smoked meat and wild vegetables rose from the pot.
Everyone settled around the fire, wooden bowls in hand, eating and talking.
Ainz, as usual, had not removed his helmet, and ate nothing. He sat there holding a bowl, the soup inside untouched.
"Momon-sir, aren't you eating?" Nfirea noticed the difference and asked with concern.
"Ah..." Ainz paused, seeming to choose his words. "No — there are some personal reasons. My religion has a rule that on any day where life is taken, I cannot eat in a group of four or more."
"I see." Nfirea nodded and didn't press.
Peter smiled in understanding. "The world is wide. There are all kinds of religions. Don't feel obligated on our account, Momon-sir."
Ainz felt a quiet sense of relief, grateful for the easy understanding of these people.
"By the way," Ainz spoke up suddenly, his attention settling on Peter, "I've been meaning to ask — why is your party called the Swords of Darkness?"
The question shifted the atmosphere around the fire by a small but noticeable degree.
Lukrut was the first to laugh, giving Ninya a nudge with his elbow. "Hear that, Ninya? Someone's asking about you."
Ninya's face went red in the firelight.
"Drop it," she said quietly, turning her head away.
"What's there to hide?" Dyne's voice had a rumbling, good-natured quality. "It's our party's point of pride."
"Exactly." Lukrut put down his bowl, visibly coming alive. "Momon-sir, have you heard of the Thirteen Heroes?"
Ainz nodded.
His knowledge of this world was limited, but the name of the Thirteen Heroes had reached him — the great champions who had destroyed the Demon Gods devastating the world two hundred years ago. He had picked up fragments of the legend from the villagers at Carne Village.
"Good, then this is easy." Lukrut lowered his voice conspiratorially. "There was one among the Thirteen Heroes known as the Black Knight. His sword — or rather, swords, all four of them — were said to be called the Swords of Darkness. Each one had a terrible power."
"Our Ninya," Dyne took up the thread, giving Ninya a clap on the shoulder, "has idolized the Black Knight since she was a child. Dreamed her whole life of finding those four swords. So when we formed up, she absolutely insisted on the name."
"It wasn't 'absolutely insisted.'" Ninya's objection was quiet and went straight under Lukrut's next words.
"Idolized is an understatement — honestly Ninya might be the Black Knight reincarnated!"
That stopped Ninya's hands.
"That's enough..." Her voice dropped further. The rims of her ears had gone completely red.
But Lukrut clearly wasn't done. He turned to Ainz with a perfectly earnest expression. "Momon-sir, you may have heard — there's a legend that when great warriors die, their souls pass through the Sea of Souls and are reborn into the world again."
"And Innate Abilities," Dyne added, his tone shifting to something more serious, "are what's inscribed deep in such a warrior's soul — a gift they carry with them into their new life."
"So what I'm saying," Lukrut settled back into his spot and crossed his legs, grinning at Ninya, "is that our Ninya might genuinely be the Black Knight reincarnated. Consider her Innate Ability —"
"Enough!"
Ninya shot to her feet, her voice louder than it had been all evening. The firelight caught her face, the young features flushed a deep red that could have been the flame or could have been pure embarrassment.
"Th-that kind of thing... how could it possibly..." His voice dropped again almost immediately, as though he didn't believe his own rebuttal.
Peter laughed and caught her sleeve, pulling her back down. "Sit, sit. Nobody's laughing at you."
Ninya sat back down and buried her head, almost enough to reach her knees.
"Speaking of which," Lukrut turned to Ainz with something closer to genuine curiosity, "does Momon-sir believe in reincarnation?"
Ainz didn't answer right away.
The firelight moved across his full-face helmet, throwing patterns of shifting light and darkness across it. He sat perfectly still, like a statue.
"Momon-sir?"
"Ah... forgive me." Ainz spoke at last, his voice too level to carry any particular emotion. "I was thinking — if souls could truly pass through the Sea of Souls and be reborn..."
He paused.
"That would be a rather beautiful thing."
"Right!" Lukrut slapped his knee. "That's what I keep saying —"
"Though," Ainz's voice cut gently across Lukrut's, "this Black Knight — what kind of person was he?"
The question brought a small silence to the fireside.
Peter thought for a moment, then spoke. "There isn't much written about the Black Knight. Some say he was a warrior under a curse. Some say demon blood ran in his veins. But on one point there's agreement — he was powerful enough to face the Demon Gods directly."
"And," Dyne added, "the legend says he died in the end protecting his companions."
Ninya's head lifted slightly.
"So," Lukrut gave Ninya a rare pat on the shoulder, this time without any teasing in his voice, "if you really are the Black Knight reborn, that's not a bad thing. At least it means you're good at your core."
"I was already good at my core," Ninya muttered. But the corner of her mouth turned up.
Laughter moved around the campfire.
Ainz watched this, and said nothing.
Beneath the helmet, the light in those skull eyes drifted, as though turning something over.
Reincarnation.
Innate Abilities.
The Sea of Souls.
These concepts were unfamiliar to Ainz. In YGGDRASIL, players who died could be revived at a base — in a sense, that was also a kind of "rebirth." But this world was different. In this world, when great warriors died, their souls carried the traces of their former lives and were reborn into new bodies.
If that was true...
Then might the companions who had disappeared when YGGDRASIL shut down also exist somewhere in this world, in some form?
Ainz's fingers tightened slightly.
The campfire burned on, sparks crackling and rising, climbing the dark air before going out.
The night grew late.
Peter was the first to stand, giving a yawn. "Time to sleep. Long road tomorrow."
Everyone got up and drifted to their tents. Ainz was the last to leave the fireside. He stood there a moment and looked up at the night sky.
The stars were very bright.
"Momon-sir?"
Nfirea's voice came from behind him. Ainz turned. The young man was standing in front of his tent, blanket in her arms, looking at him with some hesitation.
"Still not sleeping?"
"I'll go now." Nfirea nodded, then paused. "Momon-sir... do you really believe in reincarnation?"
Ainz was quiet for a moment.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because..." Enri lowered her head, her voice going small. "If people really can be reborn after they die, then some things... might there be a chance to make them right?"
Ainz didn't answer.
He only looked at her — at that young face, a little lost in the starlight.
"Get some sleep," Ainz said. "Long road tomorrow."
"Right." Nfirea nodded and went into her tent.
Ainz stood where he was for a long time.
Then he turned and walked to his own tent.
The night wind came off the plains, carrying the smell of earth and grass. The embers of the campfire still glowed faint red, like a half-closed eye, slowly going out in the dark.
Ainz stopped in front of his tent.
He looked back at the road they had come by.
There was nothing to see in the darkness. Only the stars overhead, burning without sound, one by one, as though they would never go out.
He bent down and went inside.
***
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