Magic Caster of Destroy

Against the lizardmen, he had not used an attack spell.

Then—

“Now, how is this going to turn out? I look forward to it.”

—What exactly would a super-tier attack spell do against the armies of the Kingdom?

Although it was not a particularly strong spell in YGGDRASIL, what effects would it have in this world?

Suddenly, Ainz knotted his nonexistent brows.

He was slightly afraid of himself now. He knew many people were about to die, but all he felt for them was a vague sense of pity. There wasn’t even the sense of cruelty he would feel if he trampled ants underfoot. There was nothing like that at all.

All he felt was the desire to see what his actions would bring about. And of course, the benefits he would reap for himself — for the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick.

Ainz poured his strength into his hands.

The particles from the shattered hourglass flowed against the wind and into the magic circle surrounding Ainz.

With that — the super-tier spell activated.

“「Ia Shub-Niggurath!」”

A black wind blew toward the Kingdom’s army, which had just finished changing its formation.

Or rather, there was no wind. Nothing moved, from the weeds growing on the plains, or the hairs on the heads of the Kingdom’s soldiers.

There were 70'000 men in the left wing of the Kingdom’s army.

Every single one of them was killed on the spot.

Part 2

What on earth happened?

Nobody could answer that question.

Every living creature that comprised the left wing of the Kingdom’s army —horses, conscripts, knights, nobles, everything— suddenly keeled over and collapsed on the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut.

The ones who realized the answer first were the Imperial troops, ranged against them.

It took a while for the human mind to properly parse the events that had just transpired. So after a short delay, as a terrible understanding dawned upon them, the Imperial army was gripped by shouts of panic.

After watching Ainz Ooal Gown deploy his magic circle, they had assumed that he was casting some sort of spell. That much they could understand.

However, who could have possibly imagined it?

Who could have imagined the horrific spell that had been cast here?

The spell that was cast had slain 70'000 people —more than the entire Imperial army— in an instant, utterly and completely snuffing their lives out.

Unable to believe their eyes, the Imperial knights prayed to whatever gods they believed in.

They prayed that the people of the Kingdom were not dead.

They prayed that such terrible magic did not exist in this world.

Of course, as they took in the truth before their eyes —that not a single person had stood back up from where they fell— they were fully aware that it was nothing but a childish hope.

Even so, there was no way they could accept it. There was no way they could accept this as fact.

The man hailed as one of the strongest in the Empire, one of the Four Knights, Nimble, could only stare in mute horror and grind his teeth in naked terror at the suddenly depopulated left wing of the Kingdom’s army.

Nobody stood back up. That was a reality which was far, far too horrible to accept.

But the awful truth could not be described with just these simple words.

Ainz Ooal Gown —this magic caster, all by himself— was a monster who was capable of taking on the nations forged by men and obliterating them in the way that a child would kick down a sandcastle.

That was a reality which was beyond the ability of any words to describe.

The panic enveloping the Imperial army gradually drained away like water. In the end, everyone simply fell silent, unable to speak.

Yet, a strange noise rose up among the silence of the Imperial army’s formation. The noise was born of many sounds blending together into a clamorous racket. It was the sound of every single knight gnashing their teeth.

This was the terror born of realizing that the Empire, where they and their families lived, now stood on the edge of extinction, just like the Kingdom.

This was an understanding that if they dared to raise their hands against Ainz Ooal Gown, that same awful magic might end up being turned on themselves...

Under these circumstances, Nimble suddenly thought of something. What kind of expression did a magic caster like this —who could work a sorcery that could slaughter the living in quantities that beggared mortal comprehension— what kind of expression did he have on his face?

Without moving his face, he spied on the monster standing beside him, Ainz Ooal Gown, but all he saw was indifference.

How can this be? How can this be possible? How can someone like him… like this… be so calm?