Magic Caster of Destroy

Even if they were masters or expert tradesmen in E-Rantel, in other cities, they would have to start over as apprentices.

Cities with long histories had a social order and hierarchies. Outsiders who were new to the city would naturally need to start from the lowest, most junior positions. That was to say, even if they fled to another city, most of them would not be able to find a proper job, and they would live and die as paupers in the slums.

As such, most of the residents remained in E-Rantel.

However, if their lives were in danger, they would choose to flee. That was only sensible. After all, the gossip about the new ruler, no, their new king, was that he was a fearsome being.

They said he was a magic caster who massacred the Royal Army.

They said he was a cold-blooded creature who looked like an undead being.

They said he was a monster that enjoyed bathing in the fresh blood of children.

The rumors circulating were all of this nature, with hardly a single positive word about him.

And so, everyone hid behind their doors, planning to spy on Ainz Ooal Gown from between the gaps in their windows.

Before long, Ainz Ooal Gown’s procession arrived on the main street.

All who saw him lost the power of speech.

He was a being who matched the rumors circulating about him.

The first person they saw could still be considered alright. At the head of the contingent was a beautiful woman who was as radiant as the full moon.

She wore a diaphanous white dress, with silky black hair and alabaster skin. Her body, adorned with constellation-patterned jewelry, was beyond the realm of lust and envy. However, the fact that she sprouted horns from her head and long black wings from her waist, in addition to her supernatural beauty, were all signs that she was not human.

Behind this beautiful goddess were the warriors. As they looked at them, the residents shuddered uncontrollably.

The warriors were divided into two groups, differentiated by the styles of armor they wore.

If the first group were to be summarized in a phrase, it would be “death knights.”

In their left hands they carried tower shields which covered three quarters of their bodies, and in their right they carried wavy-bladed swords, like flamberges.

Including their tattered black capes, their massive frames were more than two meters tall. Their black metal, full-body armor was covered in wavy crimson patterns, reminiscent of blood vessels. It was also covered in spikes. They looked like physical incarnations of brutality.

The faces of their helmets — which sprouted demonic horns — were open. Within were the remains of rotted faces. Their empty eye-sockets blazed with a crimson fire, filled with hatred for the living and a longing for slaughter.

The second group could best be described as “death warriors.”

They carried long-bladed swords, while various weapons hung on their waists; hand axes, warhammers, crossbows, whips, rapiers, and other weapons. All of them bore many dents and scratches — proof that they had been heavily used.

They were roughly two meters tall, and the armor they wore was comparatively light. Their bodies were clad in leather armor made from the hide of some unknown beast. The ruined armor, both arms, and parts of their faces were covered in spell-strips — strips of cloth covered in arcane runes.

The only thing that could be seen from between the strips were the ruins of human features, similar to those of the death knights.

Everyone could feel an overwhelming power radiating from this contingent, and as the palanquin carried by several of these beings came into view, the shock they had experienced faded into the background.

An undead being sat on the palanquin. An oppressive aura of death floated around him, a black mist that roiled like a maelstrom. Beyond him, an obsidian radiance shone from behind his back.

Just by instincts alone, anyone would know who this was.

It was Ainz Ooal Gown.

We cannot possibly survive under the rule of this monster; our lives will be short and stunted things.

Just as everyone started to think this, the sound of a door opening carried through the air.

In order to see what was going on, the citizens of E-Rantel pressed their eyes to their gaps and slits to peek outside. What they saw was the form of a running child. He held something in his hand and he was sprinting towards Ainz Ooal Gown’s parade of inhuman beings. Behind him, his pale-faced mother was chasing him.

“Give me back my daddy!”

The boy’s young voice echoed through the streets.

“Give me back my daddy! You monster!”

The boy threw something. It was a rock.

The rock flew toward the parade — its target was Ainz Ooal Gown.

Perhaps it was due to nervousness or tension, but the rock fell short of its mark and rolled across the cobbled road.

His mother who caught up with him had the look of a dead person. She knew what would happen to them now.