Magic Caster of Destroy

Raeven was deeply grateful to the wife that had raised his beloved son. However, he rarely said so because it embarrassed him.

It was time for a second child.

If he hadn’t come to this battlefield, he might be able to embrace the two of them.

“...Eh?”

The sound of the hooves had suddenly stopped.

Driven more by curiosity than courage, Raeven turned around. In his eyes, he saw the Dark Young motionless, as though frozen in place.

Part 3

He had no idea where he was. It was like he had been drawn into a nightmare.

The title of the Four Knights —the title belonging to the mightiest warriors of the Baharuth Empire— now seemed so shockingly superficial.

How could such an impotent creature like himself have been proud of that title? That was how great a shock he had received.

The weeping which could not be contained reached Nimble’s ears. It was the sobbing of people who had been pushed past their limits by fear and despair. It was a childish — no, it was the agonized wailing of men who had been reduced to children. The ones who wept were the Imperial knights.

He heard pleas of “Let’s run away.”

That was the prayer of the knights who had —with eyes full of pity— watched the miserable slaughter of their fellow humans by those engines of carnage.

So wretched was this tragedy that even the Kingdom’s enemies, the Imperial knights, offered up prayers for them.

They prayed that at least some would survive. The more, the better.

They had come here to kill the enemy. However, nobody could remain unmoved and not feel pity in the face of the massacre taking place in front of them. Anyone who could remain unmoved would be a fiend with a man’s face, a being that could not be considered human.

Nimble and the knights realised that this could not be dismissed as a matter of “us vs them.”

Certainly, from the point of view of the Kingdom and the Empire, this disaster was happening to

“them.” But when you looked at it from the perspective of humans and monsters, this brutal slaughter was happening to “us.”

“Well then, I think it’s time.”

Everybody’s eyes turned to Ainz as he spoke quietly.

With 60'000 people present, not everyone could hear his voice. However, they could tell when the people beside them turned their heads. And knowing that the faces of their neighbors were turned to Ainz Ooal Gown, they too would be drawn in by that action.

After all, every move and gesture made by the man who had orchestrated this nightmare —Ainz Ooal Gown— filled all present with uncontrollable terror.

Ainz slowly removed his mask.

He exposed his skinless, fleshless, polished white skull to the world.

If the circumstances had been different, perhaps they might have thought he was wearing a mask under his mask. However, as they saw this, the hearts of Nimble and all the knights of the Empire sank.

This was because they had clearly glimpsed the true face of Ainz Ooal Gown, the monster.

Anyone who could wield such power could not be human. It was because of this mindset that they were able to accept this as reality.

Ainz slowly spread his arms. He looked like he was embracing a friend — or was it a demon spreading its wings? In the eyes of all who were watching, he seemed to double, triple in size, perhaps more.

In the silence — interrupted only by the anguished screams of the Kingdom’s soldiers in the distance — Ainz’s still, small voice rang out with exceptional clarity.

“— A cheer, then.”

What was he saying, Nimble thought as he stared at Ainz with his mouth open.

Everyone who could hear him thought the same thing, and as Ainz’s words who repeated throughout the army in low tones, more and more people turned their eyes to him.

Then, when everyone’s attention was on him, he spoke again.

“A cheer in celebration of my supreme power.”

The first to move was Mare, who stood opposite Nimble, by Ainz’s side. As though sparked by it, the sounds of clapping began rising up from the soldiers, until it become a thunderous ovation.

Of course, they were not truly cheering for him.

Nobody wanted to applaud a person who brought this kind of cruel butchery with him. This was not war. It was slaughter. A massacre.

Only, nobody present could speak these words. Nobody dared.

Their earth-shaking applause was the embodiment of the knights’ fears.

And then the intensity of the riotous applause, which all present thought could not get any greater, rose several more notches.

That was because one of the Dark Young had changed its direction of advance. Its new course would take it toward the Imperial army.

In response to that, cries of joy rang out.

That was the shouted praise of the Imperial knights for Ainz Ooal Gown. They were desperate cries that made their throats bleed.

Yet, the Dark Young did not slow its pace.

And so, the knights cried out even louder. They thought the beast was approaching because their volume was not sufficient.

But still, it did not stop.

And thus, their tightly wound nerves snapped.