There were three dark elves in the room.
The eldest of them: Raspberry Navarre.
The next eldest male: Peach Orbea.
The eldest female: Strawberry Pishcha.
Only one topic on their lips: the new arrival, uncle to Aura—that
incredibly skilled ranger.
They were all clutching their heads.
The reason—
"What in the world is a sawtooth oak? What possible meaning could
there be in dropping that name?" Peach asked, wincing the moment the
meeting began.
"No clue," Raspberry said, shaking his head. "But we can't exactly just
ask. If it's a sacred tree that's part of their clan's ancestor worship or sacred
rites, then our ignorance could be considered an insult."
Strawberry let out a long sigh.
"He clearly assumed we would know. The worst thing we could do was
admit we don't."
"If we were different races, that would be one thing, but we're all dark
elves. And given the direction he came from, odds are high he dwells in the
land our ancestors left behind. Our languages should not be all that
different. It's safe to assume that was a formal greeting based on wellestablished customs," said Peach.
"All I could see was his eyes, so I can't be sure, but those features
suggest he may have some elf blood in him. Maybe that greeting comes
from their influence?" asked Raspberry.
This was not their only basis for assuming the visitor's relationship with
regular elves. There was also his name.
Dark elves put their family names first, while other elves put their given
names first. His name seemed to follow the latter style.
"…How am I supposed to know elf customs and manners?! I mean, do
you?"
No one answered Raspberry's question.
Frankly, they weren't even all that familiar with dark elf practices. Many
oral traditions had been lost when they came to this forest, to the point
where they weren't even sure what had been lost. That was why this got
under their skin.
"At the very least, his people seem to refer to us as the evergreen oak
tribe. Or perhaps it has some related meaning? For instance, if those oaks
are propagated via cutting, I'm sure you both could see why our people
splitting off might be referred to that way."
"From what he said, I can imagine no other meaning. But I know
nothing about either tree. Are they simply different names for trees we are
familiar with? And what is the significance of choosing those specific
species?"
Common sense dictated the selection must have some deeper meaning to
it.
He would have to be a lunatic to bring up two oaks for no reason. Thus,
determining the identity of those trees would enable them to decipher the
meaning of his message. They knew many a tree and shrub but couldn't
think of any trees with those names. Especially not an evergreen oak.
Even assuming his people must have different names for the species got
them nowhere.
"Hmm, if only we could ask him directly…"
"We would have if we could. But if he's appalled that we don't know,
what then? He might mention it to those youths."
The elders were perfectly aware the younger villagers had it in for them.
But they believed that as that crowd got older, they would begin to respect
the knowledge their elders had. Traditions—and the old ways—might seem
meaningless at first glance, but the elders knew there was always a reason
for them, and it would be foolish to thoughtlessly discard that. In time,
those tenderfoots would also come to understand that knowledge was
power.
But if those same villagers learned their elders were ignorant of even
formal greetings—that the traditions they prized were lost—then what?
That could widen the rift between them and the elders permanently.
That was why they were clutching their heads.
"I couldn't see any emotion in his eyes at all, so maybe it was nothing
more than a simple greeting… Eyes that blank are downright unsettling."
"…So…what do we do? As much as I'd love to pick his brain on dark
elf traditions…"
"...Too risky. Even if we swallow our pride and ask to speak in
private, there's no telling if he'd really keep it to himself. Which means…
Yes, no use treading the path of thorns unless we have to."
"Agreed. Best we maintain our distance."
"Then…what about his gifts? They come from lands where neither elf
nor dark elf dwell. They must be rare indeed."
There were obvious advantages to deciding how those were doled out.
Of course, their decisions might sow discord, which might offset those
advantages. But most of the time, anyone who grumbled about such things
would never be pleased no matter what they did. Some of the younger
hotheads would gripe simply because the elders had been the ones who
made the call. As long as their choices were reasonable, the rest of the
village would simply think less of the grumblers.
If the elders did handle the distribution, they would take none for
themselves.
Acting the part of a selfless elder was more valuable than pocketing
some precious gifts. Still—
" Like I said, let's avoid the thorny path. If we're distributing his
gifts, we'll have to thank him in person. And that means using the proper
phrases that etiquette demands."
"And if he takes what we say at face value, he might think we're rude or,
worse, think we don't appreciate his gifts."
Fiora's uncle likely assumed the village elders were well versed in
etiquette. Who could tell how he'd respond to any social faux pas? The
higher the fall, the greater the damage.
Gifts this grand could not be received the ordinary way. The thanks
would have to be enthusiastic.
"Then leave it to the young. Fortunately, they were there first. They
should have a good idea what they're dealing with, and we can just let them
handle it."
"Yes, that's for the best."
Raspberry and Strawberry were in agreement, but Peach looked less
sure.
"That's all fine and well, but should we offer any advice? They spurn
tradition and might inadvertently insult his people."
"Hmm."
The others frowned.
"Perhaps we should have forced them to learn. Too late for that, I
suppose. Fiora drove off that ursus lord so easily, and this is her uncle—his
strength is likely considerable. We do not want to turn him against us."
"But even if we say anything, I can't see those blockheads actually
listening. I suppose we should just issue a general warning, and if they mess
up somehow, let it…be mud on our faces. I'd rather stay above it, but we
are the elders."
"Yes, we must take responsibility if it comes to that. There's no other
way."
"Still…what exactly are we planning to do? Directly ask why this uncle
of Fiora's sought us out?"
"What if he came to learn the customs of our village? I really don't want
to engage him on that."
"At the very least, we need to hold a banquet to welcome him. When
Fiora arrived, we agreed to wait until her uncle caught up, and given how
much she's done as a ranger, if we don't throw a proper feast, it'll be a
disgrace. And if we don't make an appearance at the banquet, it won't just
be considered bad manners. That's basically asking for a fight."
"Sigh… Then we'll attend the banquet but do our best not to approach
him. Fiora's uncle seems young. The village youths will keep him busy."
"Yes. Thankfully, we can be sure they'll try to pull him to their side."
Their main discussion concluded, Raspberry turned to Peach. He'd been
wondering something the whole time.
"What was that line about the vine? I've never heard the phrase."
Strawberry's eyes turned his way, too. She'd been just as lost. Neither
had dared ask in the moment, but it was safe here.
Peach shifted uncomfortably.
"Sorry, I, uh…was just trying to match him. I made it up."
"Ugh," Raspberry said.
"The man had clearly never heard it before."
"What now…? What if he asks about it the next time we meet?"
"I don't know. I guess we should concoct some plausible explanation
ahead of time. I can't exactly say I was just trying to sound impressive. That
would convince the youngsters the traditions we prize are all pretend."
"Yeah, I suppose we have no choice. Don't ever do that again."
"Mm, sorry. I promise I won't."
"Then…overgrown vines, was it? Let's decide what that means. We have
to keep our answers straight if anyone does ask."
Their meeting clearly far from done, the elders readied themselves for
the work that lay before them.
While they racked their brains for a suitable rationale, another group was
equally at a loss.
Specifically, the younger villagers who opposed the elders.
This youth faction often clashed with the elders over a fundamental
conflict of beliefs.
Given the dangers inherent to forest life, they considered it natural to
heed those with superior abilities because that benefited everyone; in their
eyes, those who'd merely been alive a long time should step aside if their
skills were inadequate.
In other words, where the elders prized tradition and oral history, the
young faction favored meritocracy above all.
If the elders had real talent—specifically, tangible combat or magic
abilities—then the younger generations would happily follow them.
Unfortunately, none of them did. And having these mediocre old folks
breathing down their backs was incredibly galling.
This conflict had yet to cause outright hostility because the four most
respected village leaders—the hunt master, Blueberry Egnia, the apothecary
master, and the ritual master—did not want them going to war with the
elders.
But now a stone had been thrown.
Aura's arrival.
Though she was an outsider, her words carried weight with them
because she was an incredibly skilled ranger. They respected her as much as
they did the four leaders they'd long admired. Perhaps more, even.
They were keen to know her thoughts.
And her devotees were the most extreme members of the youth faction.
"So now what?" one of the devotees asked, his eyes never moving.
His gaze was glued to the gifts Aura's uncle had brought. No one had
volunteered to handle distribution, so they'd been carried to the elf tree used
as a communal storage space.
"Who's gonna take charge here? The elders?"
That was the expected answer. Sticking their nose in this kind of
business was what the elders always did. Normally, the youths would
maneuver to parcel everything out before the elders showed up, but this
time, nobody made a move. Instead—
" That might be for the best."
They were more than happy to leave it to someone else.
Once again, their respect for Aura was a factor here.
Ever since she had arrived, they noticed Aura didn't possess any
particularly fancy manners. This suggested such customs had died off
outside the village, or those with real skill simply didn't bother with such
things. That gave the youth faction confidence they had been right all along.
But then came her uncle, Ain Bell Fior. Meeting him had given them
doubts.
He was a dark elf—possibly with some elf blood mixed in—but they'd
understood only half his greeting. It was hard to imagine he'd say anything
meaningless at such a significant moment, so his greeting must have been
following the etiquette the elders always went on about.
Aura may have shown no signs of it, but her uncle clearly did value
those things.
What was the difference?
No one said it aloud, but everyone knew.
She was a child, and he was an adult.
And their uncle specifically asked that the children be allowed to play.
Despite her raw talent, in his eyes, she was just a kid.
That seemed unfathomable.
Certainly, in a place as harsh as the forest, children's first lessons were
anything but manners. There were far more vital survival skills to impart.
So it made sense that a kid wouldn't know any finer etiquette, and even
their own village elders had never gone so far as to drill manners into the
children.
The real problem here was that Aura's uncle had made no effort to
demonstrate any of his etiquette until the elders showed up.
Had he viewed the gathered crowd as children, merely a tad more
mature than Aura? No one there, youth faction or not, had attempted to
show good manners. And how would a grown-up act around children who
lacked that knowledge?
There wasn't much reason to pull out any formal greetings with that
kind of audience. Adults would just meet kids at their level.
Turned out the manners they'd dismissed as meaningless had meaning
after all. They were a sign of respect, and this visitor had offered that
exclusively to the elders.
No one had missed the significance of that.
"If her uncle thinks we're a bunch of overgrown kids and we pass out
his gifts—he'll assume the village is run by children. Otherwise, he'll
consider us a bunch of barbarians who don't even know basic manners."
"Maybe he won't go so far as to deem us children based purely on our
ignorance, but…maybe he will. And if he does, when he goes back to the
city, he'll tell everyone the dark elf village had a bunch of kids acting like
they were big shots."
"…That'd be the worst."
"I agree. Turning our village into a laughingstock…wouldn't feel great."
"…Does that mean the reason he wasn't super formal from the start was
because he wanted to test us?"
"Yeah, and if we'd shown that we know proper manners, Fior would
have changed his tune."
That sure felt like they'd fallen into a trap. But perhaps it hadn't been a
malicious one. What benefit would he have from engaging them on that
level? Unless he was just an asshole. They couldn't rule that out.
"…It don't sit right, but we're gonna have to leave all that proper crap to
the fossils."
The elders had demonstrated impeccable etiquette, so Aura's uncle had
naturally responded in kind. They could assume he planned to treat them
with respect. If the elders were the ones who passed out the gifts, he
wouldn't think anything of it.
"Yeah, if we just wait, the elders will step in soon enough. The only
other option is to ask someone who wasn't there. That'd leave the
apothecary or the ritual master. Thoughts?"
"They'll scoff at the idea. Especially the apothecary master."
The apothecary master did his best to stay out of these conundrums, and
if they went to the ritual master, he'd just point them toward the elders.
"Right, I guess that settles it. We'll just handle the tasks we've been
given. Let's get moving."
"Yeah, sounds like a plan. Then later…should we get the elders to teach
us basic manners?"
Everyone winced.
They'd spent ages insisting those were a waste of effort. But the next
time outside talent arrived expecting a formal greeting, they'd need to
change if they didn't want to be treated like children.
Still, bowing to the elders sucked.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, all sighed.
"Also, we were supposed to throw a banquet once Fior and his nephew
arrived, but what's up with that? I'm sure that involves a ton of etiquette
stuff. And we'd just disgrace ourselves."
"The feast itself is one thing, but we can't have him thinking the whole
village is just rude children. We'd better let the elders run the banquet
prep."
"Good idea. Knowing them…much as I hate to admit it, they know their
way around that sort of thing."
While the elders and youngsters were dealing with their own headaches, a
third group was trying to sort themselves out.
The six children.
They'd formed a circle, at the center of which was the first boy Ainz had
given candy to—the one he'd specifically asked to include Aura in their
games. He was thinking the hardest here.
The kids had naturally been curious about the girl from the unknown
outside world. They still were and would have loved to get to know her and
play together. But there was a good reason they'd never tried and kept their
distance.
She wasn't like them.
This girl was a better hunter than anyone in the village. Even if they
were the same age, she stood leagues above them. You couldn't just walk
up to someone like that and start chatting.
Running into a beloved celebrity on the street was enough to make
anyone think twice.
But now they had to.
"What do we do? What do we play? Games that aren't athletic…that
means no running around or climbing. That is how we play, though."
The candy had certainly helped convince the dark elf kids to spend more
time with Aura, but that was something they already wanted to do. Ainz had
just given them the encouragement they needed to act.
"In the leaves?"
This game was what other races called hide-and-seek.
"I dunno about the new boy, but that girl's a super-good ranger. She'd
spot us instantly. It wouldn't even be a contest."
"That's fine. I mean, that's how the game works."
"But that'd be her playing games with us, not us playing a game
together."
One of the other kids whistled.
"You said it, Ku."
"Nice one."
"You're just pointing out the obvious!"
Ku's proper name was Orange Kunas. The first boy to get the candy. He
flashed a cocky grin, then waved them over.
"We all know I'm cool, but never mind that. Can anyone think of a game
that doesn't involve moving?"
"How about climb…no, that's still moving."
The kids fell silent. Finally, the oldest girl suggested, "Maybe we could
just ask them to teach us a city game?"
Kunas sighed, shaking his head. "Don't be dumb," he said.
"What's so dumb about that?"
"Why are you mad? Didn't you hear what he said? He wants us to show
them games they don't have in the city. Stuff you can only do here. Did you
forget already?"
"…He said that?"
"He did. So we've gotta find a game…they don't have where they're
from. I mean, I dunno what they do in the city! Maybe we should ask that
first?"
"Something we can only do in the village…like go into the woods?"
"No!" Kunas yelped, scowling at the suggestion. "You know what
happened to Ah, right?"
Everyone got real quiet. The boy who'd made the suggestion looked
sick to his stomach.
Inside the village, it was comparatively safe, but the forest was different.
If the kids went out there alone, they'd be in trouble. Maybe they'd come
back okay once or twice, but their luck was bound to run out eventually.
And sometimes kids didn't make it back. The adults took no real measures
against this.
They didn't even have someone watch over them or put them on leashes.
If they broke the rules, ran into trouble, and didn't come back, then that
was a necessary sacrifice.
If one child's death taught the other kids how dangerous the forest was,
then that was no great loss.
It was far worse to grow up never knowing how scary the forest could
be.
Every single adult in this village had lost at least one childhood friend to
the perils of the woods. That was why they all had a healthy fear of it and
went about their lives with ample caution. That was what life here meant.
"That girl's a super-good ranger, so I get why you'd think we're safer
with her than we are with the grown-ups. But we'd still be in big trouble.
You know how Ailes"—he pointed at the smallest boy—"and me can do
totally different things, right? You gotta at least be able to climb a tree
quickly."
"Then what do we do?"
They were back where they had started.
"I guess we've gotta ask about city games first."
"But what even is a city? Are there more trees than here? Lots of prey
for her to train on?"
They looked at one another, then back at Kunas.
He grinned triumphantly.
"I heard the grown-ups who went hunting with her talking."
"Whoa, Ku! Nice work!"
"You're the best, Ku."
"Heh-heh-heh. The city doesn't just have elves and dark elves—they got
all kinds of races. And no trees at all! Instead, they got houses made of
brick and tar and dirt."
"Dirt…like the glieak?"
That was a race that lived in the forest.
They were omnivorous but didn't eat intelligent life, so if dark elves ran
into one, both sides would just sneak off the other way.
And the kids had heard the glieak lived in square homes of hardened
soil.
They imagined a bunch of boxes in a field, but it was obvious they
didn't really get it.
"Wow. That place sounds nuts."
"I kinda wanna know more…"
"Uh, but if we ask and find out they've done this stuff in the city before,
then that's just one less game we can actually play with them. We'll have to
think of even more ideas."
"Argh."
Once again, the children all stopped to think.
This was a tall order.
"Um, we could play house?" the youngest girl ventured.
The three older boys made faces. They clearly thought they were too old
for that. But—Kunas quickly saw the light.
"You wouldn't need any athletics for that. It might be our only option!"
"But that isn't something special you can play in the village. You can
play that anywhere!"
"We'll just play village house."
Village house.
Kunas seemed to be the only kid who knew what that meant.
"And the boy who showed up second didn't look like he was all that
athletic, so house might be right for him. At his age, we still played that,
right?"
"No," said the one boy Aura's age.
"Whaaaat?" The kids around jeered. "I saw you playing house all by
yourself."
"That wasn't house! I was playing dark elf hero!"
Then the children began arguing about what the difference between the
two was.
Blueberry led Ainz to an elf tree. Ainz was well aware Aura had been
staying here, so he hadn't really needed a guide. But as this was officially
his first visit, he'd been forced to pretend he didn't know his way around.
There was no sign of the twins waiting outside, so they must have gone
inside.
"Thanks for your help."
Blueberry was looking around, like he was searching for something—
and seemed disappointed by the results.
"A pleasure to be of assistance," he said. "If you need anything else, just
say the word. Should I have your things brought here?"
"Th-that won't be necessary. No need to trouble yourself."
"You're sure? Don't hesitate to ask!"
This man was being strangely pushy.
Everyone had different concepts of personal space. Did dark elves set
that boundary closer than most humans?
Thinking about it, living in a place like this—surrounded by monsters—
meant you had to work closely together to survive. Maybe it was a side
effect of that environment. Still, Ainz had no need for the man at the
moment.
"No, I'm fine. Leading me here is more than enough."
"I see… Then tell Fi—Aura I said hi."
Why only her? Oh, I see. Ainz figured it out. My blunder. I failed to
introduce Mare at all. Aura did say his name, but that was all we did.
But there was little upside to introducing Mare to the grown-ups. Only
the children really needed to know him, and Aura would likely take care of
that.
"Yes, I will."
Blueberry turned back several times as he left, and Ainz made sure he
was gone before stepping into the elf tree. As expected, the twins were
waiting for him.
"Good wor—" Ainz broke off, deciding that was the wrong greeting.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Sir, if we could ask—"
"—Stop. Don't be too formal. I'm well aware that Aura's ranger skills
ensure her ears will detect any dark elves that come near. Here, we are safe
and can speak freely if we choose. But assumed identities are less likely to
slip if you maintain them at all times. As long as we are in this village, I am
your uncle, Aura. There is no need to be deferential."
"Unh," Aura moaned. She glanced briefly at Mare, then at the ground,
then up at Ainz through her lashes. "Um, Uncle Ain, what do we do next?"
Mare was nodding. He had the same question on his mind.
"Now we're cooking— No, if I really was your uncle, I probably
wouldn't talk like that. Let's just stick to what I was doing earlier. Not bad,
Aura. How's that sound?"
Aura managed a half smile, half embarrassed, half uncertain. Didn't
seem like she'd objected—even if she did, he was still going to act more
familiar than he usually did.
"Very well— Er, I mean, okay?" Ainz said, looking them both over.
"Like our initial plan, we shall be—hmm, is saying gonna better? We're
gonna be staying in this village for about a week. Can't say for sure, since
not much has been decided yet, but let's kick back and relax and learn
whatever we can."
"Oh, er, um, Uncle Ain, what sort of information are we looking for?"
"Nice work, Mare. Keep it up!"
He felt like this wasn't actually all that different from how Mare usually
spoke but decided to praise it anyway. Mare looked bashful, and Ainz
launched into a further explanation. Mare had asked similar questions on
the way here, but he'd bought himself time by saying he'd explain once
they'd regrouped with Aura.
This had allowed him to concoct a rationale.
"Everything and anything. All information related to this dark elf
village. There may come a time when we need the two of you to pose as
normal dark elves. Of course, there might not. But in case it does, if you
don't know how dark elves think, they might suspect something. So
considering what the future might bring, I thought a stay in this village
might help you gain some experience."
Ainz thought this was a solid excuse. But the next bit was key.
"And the two of you might have to act like normal dark elf children.
Why not try joining in the children's games? Of course, that's not an order.
If you can think of anything better, go right ahead."
Given his true objective of finding the twins some friends, these
instructions were toeing the line. If he pushed it any further, it would
become an order, but if he didn't push them at all, they might never look at
the other kids twice.
He had not expected them to appear so puzzled.
Um, what? I did a bunch of rehearsals and thought I nailed it just now.
Did I miss something?
"So…not information on the Theocracy?" Aura asked.
That made Ainz look puzzled. Not that his illusionary face moved.
Why were they bringing up the Theocracy all of a sudden? He didn't
understand.
Back at Nazarick, he'd said they were here for a paid vacation. If
memory served, he'd also called it a test to see if Nazarick would still
function with three members of the upper echelon out of the picture. But…
I never once mentioned the Theocracy, did I? I know they suggested we
ask that charmed elf about them…but why? Oh…the former slaves in
Nazarick are a similar race, so that made them worry? Their karma isn't
nearly as low as Albedo's or Demiurge's.
He chose to ignore what they'd done in the kingdom when he drew that
conclusion.
It's possible they only felt sympathy for elves and dark elves and cared
nothing for humans.
"Uh, sure. If you hear anything about the Theocracy, that's worth
knowing."
"Okay! Understood, sir— Er, got it…?"
Aura was still struggling with how to interact with her supposed uncle,
but Ainz just shot her a grin and opened up his rucksack.
"Good. Now, if we're staying for a week, we should sort out our things."
He'd brought a bunch of stuff with him, starting with some dwarven
dishes. It was quite a pile, but he hoped some of it would interest the dark
elves, the way the gifts had. For that reason, he wasn't just putting them
anywhere—he was attempting to place them where they'd catch the eye.
In other words, this was a showroom.
Ainz had no real confidence in his aesthetic sensibilities, so he had the
twins help him decorate the tree. At one point, Aura paused.
"Uncle Ain, footsteps headed our way. Six pairs are coming. They don't
seem to be trying to hide their approach. From the weight, likely children."
Ah. Ainz stopped working and turned toward the door. He hadn't
imagined they'd show up today but was grateful for it. The boy he'd first
given candy to popped his head in the door.
Most people would think it rude to just poke your head into someone
else's home, but in this village, that was normal.
"Hey there. You here to invite Aura and Mare out to play?"
"Uh, um, yes. We are," the boy stammered, gaping at the room.
"I see, I see." Ainz grinned. "I was waiting for you. Kids, go on out and
play."
"Huh? Uh, um, b-but, Uncle Ain, we're not done unpacking…?"
"No problem, Mare. I'll handle the rest. Let me take care of things here!
Although I'm not sure I have an eye for these things, so if you see anything
worth fixing later, I'll do as you say! Ha-ha-ha!"
Ainz let out a laugh, and the twins looked surprised.
Certainly, he was not ordinarily prone to hearty laugher. He realized how
strange it might seem. Perhaps his behavior was a bit awkward, but if they
asked about it, he could claim it was all part of the act.
"Well, if you say so…gotcha! We'll be right out. Mare, come on."
"O-okay…"
The twins left, and Ainz practically beamed.
I'll have to give those kids more candy to thank them for this! No, wait…
What would Aura and Mare think if they knew these kids only invited them
because they wanted candy? That might be devastating.
He didn't think either twin was really that sensitive, though.
Then again, I'm not Teapot. I don't know everything about them. So I
should assume there's a chance it would hurt their feelings and act
accordingly. No need to risk it. If the shock of it blows their chances at
making friends, how would I ever face Teapot again? Also, I'm curious how
they'll play…
Ainz smiled, remembering the past.
Satoru Suzuki's best years. Forty people—plus one more—gathered in
the game called Yggdrasil.
His comrades who had gathered there all led very different lives.
Some lived inside the megacorp arcologies. Others hailed from the farinferior domed cities. People like Satoru Suzuki scraped by in the harsh
environment beyond. And then there were those enduring worse conditions.
They were all total strangers with nothing in common—until the game
brought them together.
"Games tear down barriers. They bring us together. Games alone make
that possible. No matter how distant your origins, you can become friends.
As I…as we did."
Guardians were overwhelmingly powerful. By comparison, these dark
elf children were terribly fragile. Away from this village, they were worlds
apart. Even so—
" Friendship is a wonderful thing. I'd love for them to discover
that."
His eyes were not on the twins.
But he could see them in his mind's eye.
If they played together and still found no common ground, so be it.
That had happened to Ainz, as well. He'd lost count of how many
players he'd encountered within Yggdrasil. There had been so many. But
only forty-one of them had become his friends.
Friendships were not made with everyone you met.
He need simply create opportunities for them to find someone they
deemed worthy. As long as they learned that making friends was a good
thing, then this whole exercise was a success.
Ainz glanced down at his right ring finger—currently bare—and a slight
smile crossed his lips.
I wondered this before, but perhaps I should take steps to help
Demiurge, Albedo, and Shalltear find friends, too? ...We'll see.
There was little merit in overthinking it now. Even that momentary
question had made his spirits sink.
Still, why is no one coming to visit me? From what I overheard using
Perfect Unknowable, they should be readying a welcome banquet. When are
they planning to tell me about that? Or is it supposed to be a surprise?
He had plans of his own, so an abrupt invitation wouldn't be very
welcome.
For one thing, Ainz couldn't actually eat. He wasn't sure what sort of
banquet they had in mind, but ordinarily it would involve the village
bigwigs and food spread out on the table before him. What would they
think if he never took a single bite?
He couldn't imagine that going over well.
If they were different races, then he might have some excuse and it
would be the host's responsibility for serving food he couldn't eat. But Ainz
was using an illusion to pass as a dark elf.
Allergies might rule out eating specific foods, but no ordinary excuse
would allow you to skip over everything.
Ainz had to strike first and provide an appropriate reason.
Or are they not planning to come today to avoid interrupting my rest? I
certainly don't mind if the banquet itself takes place on a later date. I just
don't want them coming to fetch me once it's all ready. Should I go to them?
Ainz considered this, then shook his head. No, let's not. In which case…
once someone does arrive, I'll ask them to pass word along.
He remembered what he'd seen while lurking around.
They generally deliver enough food for the morning and evening meals
together. Right about now, actually. I'll have to speak to whomever brings
that along. Or was that a service provided to rangers who bring in food, not
travelers? I haven't done any work for them yet, so maybe they won't bring
me anything to eat. No, I doubt that. Aura worked hard enough, and I
brought those gifts—I imagine they'd keep us fed at least a week even if we
don't lift a finger.
Ainz fully intended to do his part, of course. He'd told them he was a
caster for a reason. Depending on what the situation called for, he was fully
prepared to use spells as high as fourth tier. And bring back food in Aura's
stead.
He wasn't sure how things would play out and wasn't about to accept
charity.
Maybe it's just early. If they come, they come. If they don't, I'll go to
them. Then…I'll ask what I want to know.
Aura had been racking her brain ever since their master sent them out.
He'd suggested playing with the dark elf children to learn about dark elf
culture. But she had her doubts about that.
It wasn't like children knew nothing of their culture or were completely
ignorant creatures, but learning through them seemed inefficient. Learning
from the adults would give them a far better idea of how the dark elves in
this forest thought. If they didn't know the truth, learning about a subject
from children was inherently risky.
It's certainly very childlike to get things wrong, so maybe that's the goal
here? As children, we're allowed to make mistakes?
Maybe she was overthinking it. But she remembered what Albedo had
said before she left—to never stop thinking.
Aura and Mare were the only ones accompanying their liege. That
meant they had to think everything through and avoid doing anything that
would embarrass the guardians.
She wrapped her hand around the acorn necklace, using its power to talk
to Mare. He responded right away.
Aura filled him in on her current thoughts and doubts.
" Mm, I agree."
Mare did not grip his necklace. That gesture was required only by the
person initiating contact—the one who activated the item. The recipient
could answer without doing anything special.
"…There's more to this playing games than learning about their culture.
But what? He said we had to stay friendly here—is this part of that? Does
playing with the children make us look friendly?"
"That might be part of it, but…hmm… Oh, are we recruiting the
children?"
"No way. The grown-ups would be way more useful. They've been
bugging me, but several of them seem easy enough to bring over."
The point of this was growing still more obscure.
"Then does Lord Ainz have some plan to use these children?" Mare
asked.
Aura looked up at the kids ahead.
Weak and frail, no real status. She couldn't see what benefit there could
be.
"Use them how? As hostages?"
"I can't rule that out, but I doubt it somehow."
"Children…children…using them to gather info?"
"Hmm. But how much do kids really know?"
"Good point…"
It was hard to imagine they'd have any secrets that really mattered. Or
had their master analyzed things from every angle and discovered these
children possessed some kind of vital information?
"Also, all you're doing is shooting down my ideas. Don't you have
anything of your own?"
"Um…" Mare paused for a beat. "Oh! Is he thinking about taking these
children to E-Rantel?"
"Oh. That could be it, but even then, adults would be better."
"Children's ideas aren't set in stone, so it could be easier for them to
adjust…or maybe it's not just the kids but the whole village?"
"Aha. But if it was all the villagers, I don't see the point in playing with
the kids or getting closer to them."
Even if Mare's idea was on the money, it would be better to take the
adults under their wings. If the kids were especially opinionated, that might
make sense, but she'd been here three days and seen no signs of that.
She just couldn't find any particular value to them.
"Then I guess it must be acting friendly to extract intel," Mare said.
"I guess so… Nothing else makes sense. At least, not that I can think of.
Maybe children would let something slip the adults are all keeping under
wraps? Mm! Ainz really values information, so that does sound like
something he'd think. We'll just have to keep the conversation going."
"Good luck!"
"You'd better help! You can talk easily enough when it's just us. This'll
be good practice!"
"We're using the necklace…"
The children ahead stopped.
They were inside the village, but there were no signs of any toys around.
Aura had seen enough of the village to know no such thing existed.
She quickly corrected that impression.
The children here might make their toys from trees as needed.
Her ranger senses told her there was only one adult watching.
"Oh, him. He's watching me again."
"Who?"
"Don't look. On our seven. Best hunter here. He's been staring at me
from time to time since I showed up. Never comes close."
"He suspects something but doesn't have proof, so he's monitoring what
you do?"
"Seems likely. Best make sure you don't do anything to rouse his
suspicions. We'll have to report that to Lord Ainz later."
Aura carefully ignored the man.
Did he actually think she hadn't noticed him? Or did he want her to
notice? Was the message that he was watching her every move?
As obnoxious as that was, she couldn't just kill him. She needed her
master's permission to do that and would have to arrange the death so it
looked like the ankyloursus or some other beast got him—ensuring she had
an alibi.
She was a beast tamer, though, meaning this wasn't a real challenge.
"…So what are we doing here?"
"Okay!" the biggest boy yelled. "We're playing house."
It almost seemed like he thought if he said it loud enough, they'd agree.
House?
Aura was at least aware of the concept.
A type of role-playing. I remember Lady BubblingTeapot grumbling
about Lord Peroroncino saying, I wanna be a baby! Someone be a mommy
and pat my head! Is that what this is?
Aura pictured herself patting Shalltear's head.
Hmm, could be right. Am I doing that or are they?
Being a mom was one thing, but being the baby would be unbearable.
She was a floor guardian, made by one of the Supreme Beings—it would be
rude to Lady BubblingTeapot to role-play a baby.
When she told them about Lord Peroroncino, Lady Yamaiko and Lady
Ankoro Mocchi Mochi both laughed. But I still bet it would make Lady
BubblingTeapot mad.
It was easy enough to say she didn't want to. But—if they needed good
info and to loosen up their lips, playing along seemed like a good idea. That
was how these things worked. Everyone liked having their suggestions
accepted. And playing the same game brought people together.
But what would happen if she refused?
They'd ask what she wanted to play, and Aura didn't have many ideas
there.
There were things she could suggest. Racing, climbing, play fighting.
But the ability gap was so high, the outcome of all those games was clear as
day. There weren't any kids around who could match the two of them—
especially Mare—in any physical activity.
It wouldn't be fun when it was obvious how everything would end. If
they wanted to keep these kids happy, they could intentionally lose. But
Aura had already driven off the ursus lord—officially, anyway—and
everyone knew it. If someone that strong lost a race, the children would all
know she was just humoring them. If that was all it took to please them,
these children were something else.
The only other option was to not play at all, and that wasn't on the table.
Their absolute ruler had told them to go play.
In which case…
"A-Aura, i-is this…?"
He looked very concerned. Likely remembering the same thing she had
and reaching the same conclusions.
She flashed her best and brightest smile.
"Our toughest assignment yet, Mare!"