Overlord (Light Novel)-Chapter 140.4: Vol 15 Chapter 3: Aura’s Hard Work (Part 4)

{A dream.

I am having a dream.

I know this is a dream.

What was it called again?

Yeah, right. A lucid dream.

A dream where you are aware that you are dreaming.

I am a kid in the dream.

And—I was sent flying.

It doesn’t hurt. Yes. It doesn’t hurt because this is a dream.

Yet, it hurts.

My face throbbed with pain. I probably have a cut inside my mouth from the impact.

It tastes full of blood.

I can taste it even though it’s a dream.

Strange.

Is this really a dream, I wonder.

A hand came into my view.

A small hand covered in dirt.

So it’s a dream after all.

My hands are no longer so small.

I am relieved.

This is just a dream.

My vision moved.

—no! I don’t want to stand. Yet, I stood.

I stood again, picking up the club I dropped.

Mother is standing before me.

She is expressionless. It’s like she was wearing a mask. She is looking down at me with cold eyes.

She held a club in her hand, to beat me until I won’t be able to stand anymore.

And then she swung it.

The present me could take it, but it was impossible for me at that time.

Just as I started to feel the pain, I’m flying through the air.

More pain coursed through my body after I got knocked to the ground.

My vision blurred.

It’s the tears.

Suddenly, I wondered how long it had been since I last cried.

My gaze moved once again.

Mother is saying something.

I look at the club on the ground that left my hands at some point.

Mother probably told me to stand.

But I can’t.

It’s painful, and difficult.

I probably replied something to that effect while crying.

Mother’s expression didn’t change, but she slowly lifted her club and took a stance, like she wanted me to see her doing that.

I hear a voice.

I move my eyes, and I see a plump woman running towards us.

She is someone who helped with our household work. She made delicious food.

It’s aunt Nazaire.

Her runny omelets were excellent. They were my favorite. Her cooking was the taste of my memories, and also the standard by which I judge other food.

Unfortunately, she has already passed away. If I am going to dream anyway, I would rather dream about eating her food instead of training with my mother.

I later learned that mothers are supposed to cook, but I don’t have any memories of eating my mother’s cooking. But I do remember someone saying that she likely had her hands full with my training.

I accepted that explanation back then because I was ignorant.

But now—after becoming an adult I can say for sure that was wrong.

I don’t even have many memories of eating together with my mother. Most of my memories were of me eating alone.

“Good morning...”

Color returned to the world. Am I going to wake up? They should have woken me up sooner.

It’s not like I forgot about it.

Yes, I can understand.

My mother hated me.

She probably found the child born from her rape extremely unpleasant.

So, my mother never celebrated my birthday.

I never received any words of encouragement from her.

Like “thank you”.

Or “congratulations”.

Or “Isn’t that great!”.

Even such common words.

In the first place—did my mother ever call me by my name?

I wonder who named me.

But, if she really hated me she should have just killed me.

She could have easily done that.

But I was not killed.

So, it stands to reason that I was not hated.

Maybe it’s nothing more than a pitiful hope of mine.

“P-please hold, Faine-sama. She is still a child. It’s not good to continue her training in this state”

Aunt Nazaire does not back down even after receiving mother’s glare.

Thinking back, aunt Nazaire wasn’t an ordinary person either.

“S-she will need to rest soon. I will prepare drinks...”

“She’s fine.”

“I will tend to her wounds while Faine-sama’s having a drink so...”

“She’s fine.”

All of my wounds were healed by a wave of mother's hand.

The pain went away as well.

“You are fine, right?”

Mother brought her face closer.

A pair of glass-like eyes and a face devoid of any expression. Repulsive.

“...yes...I feel fine”

“That’s right,” mother turned to aunt Nazaire. “...are you satisfied? She is still alright, and she is already strong enough to withstand resurrection anyway. See? There’s no problem at all”

“...Yes. Underst—”}

“—Good Morning...Excuse me, is Zesshi-sama in there?”

She faintly heard a woman’s timid voice. This was not a voice inside her dream. It came from reality.

Her consciousness broke through the surface.

She could see the ceiling. This was her own room. There was a presence of a person in the room, besides her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t fully awake, but she couldn’t feel any hostility from the person.

“If I am going to dream anyway, at least let me dream about something magical…” she whispered. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Feeling something moist on her fingers, she realized that she cried at some point. “—I woke up, just now. Can you wait a minute?”

“Hiyeeee! Please don’t worry about a lowly person like me! I will wait however long it takes, so please take your time!”

She didn’t say a single thing to threaten the woman, but she was extremely scared. Feeling like sighing again, Zesshi rose from the bed and put on a coat that hung on a nearby chair.

She knew who came to her room from their voice.

Zesshi felt like she didn’t need to take time dressing up as the visitor was a colleague of the same sex, and it would be rude to make her wait in the next room until she got completely dressed up.

When she opened the door to the next room and entered it, she found the visitor standing there like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“—Sorry for making you wait. It would have been fine if you took a seat”

“No, no, I didn’t have to wait for long at all. That said, heheheh. Sorry for disturbing Zesshi-sama’s rest. I would be glad if you could forgive me.”

She servilely bowed with an amicable smile on her face. Also—probably unconsciously—she even started rubbing her hands together. For one of the trump cards of the theocracy—the 11th seat of the Black Scripture, with the title of “Infinite Magic,” and one who reached the realm of heroes—this behavior was too pathetic.

“So then, won’t you take a seat?”

“No, no, no, no. That’s not necessary. I will return immediately after giving the message so something like sitting on Zesshi-sama’s sofa...”

She shook her hands in a fluster.

She didn’t have to reject it so vehemently, Zesshi thought.

“Nothing will happen just because you took a seat, and it’s not like I will get angry you know? No, I really won’t...you don't have to be so abject...aren’t we colleagues?”

When she heard that, an obsequious smile floated to the woman’s face.

“Ehehehe, I apologize that Zesshi-sama has to call a worm like me her colleague.”

“No, you don’t really have to go that far... You see. Among the people I’ve dealt with—among the members of the Black Scripture that I had mock battles with, you are the most servile you know? ...to think that you used to be so conceited.”

The Black Scripture was a gathering of heroes. Therefore, occasionally some newcomers would think too highly of themselves. One of Zesshi’s duties was to break them in. Therefore, even if the members of the Black Scripture were her colleagues, she was only acquainted with the haughty guys.

That said, it was something she did to every member of the Black Scripture who grew arrogant, so it’s not like this woman was special. Even the captain, who she disciplined harder than this woman—she sometimes even regretted that she might have gone too far with the captain—treated her normally now. Yet, only this woman acted like this.

Maybe just getting broken in was already a bit too much for this woman.

{I should take into account things like their personality next time...}

“It’s bad to be arrogant, but couldn’t you at least act a bit more confident?”

“Heh, eheheh. I can’t do such a thing before Zesshi-sama”

She started rubbing her hands even more intensely.

Zesshi thought she didn’t do anything that would make her go this far.

She only advanced while taking the woman’s magic head on, mounted her, and just single-mindedly punched her in the face—and because it was supposed to be training—took care to not kill her while beating her into a pulp.

Zesshi had seen her not recognizing her defeat, throwing out her spells even when pinned, so she admired her as someone with a spine. Since then, she had even learned to cast spells while bearing the pain. She was someone with a desire to improve herself.

Zesshi felt a little sad seeing a person she had high opinions of acting like this before her.

“...And so, what’s the matter today? Though I have an idea what it is about”

“R-right. As expected of...”

“—Aa, enough with the flattery.”

“Ah, Y-yes. As the elf subjugation army started advancing further, I was entrusted with informing Zesshi-sama to start her preparations to head out.”

“Is that so…”

The woman’s face twitched when she saw Zesshi smiling. That couldn’t be because she was making a scary face. She was smiling normally.

“I wonder if I could clear one of the bones stuck in my throat at last.”

Intermission

The progression of a magic caster’s career could proceed in a myriad of ways.

However, mortals—no matter how creative they were—tended to fear wasting the limited time they had on this plane more so than their desire for greater power. Consequently, most would walk down a known path than experiment on their own.

That was why, without any external intervention, every single civilization that mastered magic would end up creating schools and systems to teach the most well-known of paths.

One could then infer these systems should store information in some form and they would be correct. Vast archives of tomes, parchment, and other paper-based media were the most common form of information storage, but they were not the only ones.

A small portion of magical secrets was etched into crystals that stored spells, invisible to those who did not know where and how to peer into the Abyss.

There were those who could extract that information, the casters of the South. The most talented and brilliant of all mortal casters, the progenitors of Magi-tech, the ones who had overcome the limits of their flesh by exploiting the limits of their machina.

They called it “dayta.” Contained within those crystals were ways to gain power no one would have ever attempted otherwise. Who knew that you could empower certain spells by walking forward two steps, walking backward two steps, alternate walking left-right a step each twice, yelling “BA,” and casting the spell?

Utterly ridiculous.

Yet it worked.

The 7 Night Liches that constituted the inner circle of the organization known as the Corpus of the Abyss gathered once more at the lair of {that one}, a True Dragon Lord that held dominion over them. It was a symbiotic relationship, {that one} provided them with dayta stolen from the South and they in turn gave {that one} the fruits of their research.

In attendance were:

“The Abyss.” The original founder.

“The Saintess of White.” The only female member.

“Crimson-Eyed Duke." The only unnatural Night Lich, a former human.

And “The Death Rider,” “The King of Decay,” “Wise Wolf," “The Elder of the Hosts," “The Eaten," “The Revenant of Yellow.”

What was odd about this gathering was {that one’s} insistence on The Saintess of White’s attendance. Nevertheless, they entered the underground structure.

They were greeted by {that one} in the Great Hall, in the middle sat a curious contraption that held at its peak the largest crystal they had yet seen. It wasn’t jagged and uncut like the other ones. In fact, they never even knew that a cut magic crystal could still function.

“Is that…an arcane incantation?” Banejieri, The Abyss, asked.

“I’ve seen this script in the past, but was never able to learn it. The minotaur I captured assured me that it read ‘p-n hb’ though as you can see, saying it out loud does not invoke any magick, so I must assume that it is not an incantation.” {that one} replied.

“Why was I summoned specifically?” Grazn, The Saintess of White, inquired.

“The minotaur told me that we would require at least one humanoid female to complete the rituals inscribed upon this crystal.” {that one} again replied. “Well then, let us unlock the great mysteries contained with this item.”

Banejieri, their representative, approached the device and touched a button that had the shapes of a triangle and two lines etched upon it.

A brilliant flash of light exploded forth from the contraption, blinding everyone in the room.

After the lights died down somewhat, pale blue eidolons of sorts hovered over the device while sounds emanated from it.

They had encountered dayta stored in the form of sound before, but never something like this.

The specter-esque image depicted 8 humans, 7 men and a woman. They spoke in a language unknown to anyone in the room, none of them looked like they were mages either. But, stranger things had happened, so they would at least give this ritual a try.

Minutes into the relay of information, Krunui, the Crimson-Eyed Duke’s pale face was suddenly flushed red. He excused himself from the gathering and ran away in a hurry.

“What’s his issue?”

“Perhaps too much of his human side still remained, so he cannot bear to witness the savagery on display here.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have allowed a former human to join our ranks, no matter how powerful he was.”

Down a member, the rest of the Corpus of the Abyss continued to study in detail until the lights completely vanished.

“Hmmmmm, this does remind me of something the Brightness Dragon Lord had shown me once in the past.”

“Did he also complete this ritual to gain power?”

“Possibly, but I remember him telling me that his humanoid partners never did survive the affair most of the time, perhaps it would be wise for you all to try it first before I have a go at this.”

With {that one’s} blessings, the six began to disrobe.

They tried their best to emulate what they had just seen, which was particularly difficult for the Night Liches as they were in various states of decay and lacking certain fine motor functions that appeared to be mandatory.

They completed the ritual to the best of their abilities, but upon testing, none of them had gained any power.

“So what do we do now?”

“I believe the ‘abuspreetzin’ mentioned at the end is a necessary part of the ceremony, that does not appear to be something you undead can do. Very well then, I, one of the living, will attempt this ritual. Are you ready Grazn?”

“Allow me to apply defensive magic first.”

“Hnnnng, I’ll show you why they call me the Deep Dick Dragon Lord.”

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(T/N: I know it's bad, I ran out of ideas okay? Anyway, below is the real intermission)

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Real Intermission

Upon amassing even greater magical power, the entity formerly called an Elder Lich would advance to a more powerful existence called a Night Lich. Only a few of such beings were recorded in the annals of history, a fact which many people were grateful for.

It is because Night Liches were tremendously powerful beings.

They could use multiple spells of the Sixth Tier–a tier said to be beyond the realm of humans. With that much power, they could even hold their own against the older high dragons. In addition to that, they also possessed many special abilities, counted many undead as their followers, were highly intelligent, and took residence in impregnable fortresses.

With all of their accolades, it’s as if they were the rulers of nations, existences worthy of being called the Lords of the Undead.

In fact, the renowned Three Night Liches—

The Draconic Night lich “Q’fantera=Argolos”

The Night Lich Titan “Hueon”

And a Night Lich (probably) a lord of the shadows known by his moniker of “Fear.”

—famously ruled over domains the size of small kingdoms and were dreaded existences who inspired fear in the countries around them.

And thus, Night Liches were considered beings straight out of myths and were whispered about in tones of fear and awe. They were the same as natural disasters to the people concerned.

One of these fearsome Night Liches who moved behind the world’s veil with the nickname of “The Abyss”—Banejieri Anschass came out of a huge room while bowing.

With six arms and two heads, proficient not only with arcane spells but also spells from other systems, this night lich was a fearsome being that humans could never dream of defeating. If he ever chose to act openly, the aforementioned Three Night Liches would probably have to become Four. He was an ancient undead who was the founder and a member of the innermost core of that organization.

The organization was called the “Corpus of the Abyss.”

Formed by undead magic casters, this gathering’s original goal was to cooperate among themselves so that their interests would not clash.

That said, it was inevitable for immortal beings like magic casters who spent an eternity researching magic to come into conflict with beings similar to themselves.

The undead tended to have some other desires in place of the three basic desires absent in them. For undead magic casters, it generally manifested as a desire for knowledge. So, when there was a conflict with a piece of knowledge at stake, they were prone to not hold back, resulting in fights to the death.

Hypothetically, if one concentrated all three of the fundamental desires of the living into one, someone with that singular desire would also find it extremely difficult to restrain themselves.

There were many undead who had met their end because of this, though other times the living would seize the opportunity to eliminate both combatants.

This resulted in more and more undead who realized that it was better to share instead of trying to monopolize knowledge or magic at the cost of their life. If it was not possible, they should bargain amongst themselves. And so, they created a list of names.

That’s the tablet known as “Graniezzo Inscription” in the later times, a stone tablet that contained the names of many beings adept at magic even though the tablet itself wasn’t magical in any way.

(T/N: Graniezzo was TL’d as Granisle in the bonus volume probably since it was JP-CN-EN)

It only contained the names of four Night Liches and three Elder Liches at first, and the only obligation of the organization was that the other members should band together to thrash any member who violated the rules.

After 200 years, the organization and its rules developed into a comprehensive system.

The undead membership of the organization increased: a total of 7 inner circle members and 48 in the outer circle. Now, this was a large organization of 55 people in total, of which the undead of the inner circle were supposed to reach difficulty levels of 150.

But, there were very few who knew about this gathering.

The undead of this organization were generally divided into two types.

One group increased their power among the living and used them to achieve their objectives. The other group didn’t interact with the world of the living and worked toward their goals silently out of sight of the world at large.

As the former were very few in number compared to the latter, this organization never took action openly in the world of the living.

If someone increased their power among the living like the former group, that also meant there would be an increase in the amount of enemies they had as well. Especially as the undead were considered the enemy of all living things, these particular types tended to get eliminated by the living who’d even set aside their national allegiances for that cause.

This led to a reduction in the former group’s numbers. Of course, there also existed undead who managed to gather power among the living while remaining in anonymity, but such talented undead were rare.

As a result, “Corpus of the Abyss” remained an organization that was shrouded in mystery and only talked about in rumors. The reason the aforementioned three extremely strong night liches were not invited to join was because their addition to the ranks would make them stand out too much.

Upon leaving the room where {that one} sat, he came to a wide corridor by the side of which was a room illuminated by a small light.

It was the waiting room for those waiting to meet {that one}. {That one} would never prepare something like this—it was not kind enough for gestures of that nature—so Banejieri and others petitioned for it and received its permission to make one themselves.

The person in that room called out to Banejieri.

“So you have returned. It should be my turn next.”

As Banejieri had waited together with them in that room just a while ago, he knew who the person talking to him was without seeing them. In fact, one wouldn’t enter here without being summoned—because it would anger {that one}—so they couldn’t be a surprise visitor anyway. The only ones summoned here today were the members of the inner circle. After 400 years had passed since the founding of the organization, there were 9 members in the innermost circle at the present.

“The Abyss,” “The Saintess of White,” “The Death Rider,” “The King of Decay,” “Crimson-Eyed Duke," “Wise Wolf," “The Elder of the Hosts," “The Eaten," “The Revenant of Yellow.”

All of them were gathered here earlier and were summoned in turn. There was only one left now.

“The Saintess of White,” Grazn Rocker.

An undead with skin like white wax who wore a white veil and dressed in white. An appearance that was completely white from head to toe.

She was someone who had reached the Eighth Tier of magic and was aiming for the Ninth now. Banejieri could not help but recognize her as the better researcher. She was also the favorite of the organization’s present leader.

No—

{—{That one} doesn’t like anyone. {That one} only finds everyone unpleasant but bears with her so {that one} can use her.}

He could sense as much from his conversations with {that one}.

{That one} didn’t try to hide this at all, even calling the magic Banejieri and others use, “filthy.”

So being highly valued was nothing for Grazn to be happy about.

No, {that one} only ever took from them and barely gave them any benefits in return. There shouldn't be anyone who could be happy being used by {that one}.

This was even truer for someone who was a talented researcher, like Grazn.

Of course, no one would express their feelings before {that one}. Regrettably, there was no chance of victory even if all of them were to rebel against {that one}.

“...Aah. You are next. After it’s done...won’t you have a talk with me? It’s been a long time after all”

“...What do you mean?... I see. Understood. I got it. Of course, I will happily accept. The usual place right?”

“Yes. I will be going ahead then.”

Banejieri left her and walked through the darkness for a while, something he could do without discomfort only because he was an undead. There was no need for that light in the waiting room either. He didn’t know who arranged it, but that was probably just for decoration.

The floor was a single slab made smooth by magical means, but the ceiling and floors were still rough, unhewn stone.

This huge cave was not natural. The leader of their organization had spent time and effort excavating it.

They visited this cave once every few years—or when they were summoned—but he couldn't help but sneer every time when he saw the effort spent in digging such a cave.

Night Liches who were good at magic generally looked down on physical labor, but this scorn was more for what this cave represented: the cowardly side of someone who acted so high and mighty before them.

After he made sure that he put some distance between him and the room, Banejieri activated [Teleportation] twice to reach his destination.

He arrived before a castle built deep into the mountains. It was the residence of Krunui Log Entesh Na, “Crimson-Eyed Duke” of the inner circle.

Among the inner circle, Krunui was the one who loved keeping things neat and tidy the most and surrounded himself with the best stuff. That was true for his residence too.

This castle was built by the labor of different races—paid with the knowledge of magic, magic items, and treasures filled with gemstones—was so grand that even someone without an aesthetic sense could appreciate it. That was the reason why the inner circle used his residence as the meeting place whenever they had something to discuss.

Upon reaching the gate, one of the undead under Krunui appeared and led Banejieri into the castle.

After being led to a room, he found that everyone from the inner circle except Grazn was already present.

“—Sorry for the wait.”

“Good work dealing with {that one}.”

The one who spoke was the lord of the castle, Krunui.

His most striking feature was his extremely pallid-looking skin. He was not a natural undead, but a former human who turned himself into one using magic. Maybe that was why they could see traces of his past self in his obsession with surrounding himself with fine things. While the others always wore the same clothes—magic items with copious amounts of magical power—he alone wore a different spotless outfit each time, but his clothes did not have any magical power.

For other members, clothes were something used for strengthening themselves, but for Krunui, they were things to decorate himself with.

“I want to wait for Grazn before we start. You don’t mind right?”

Banejieri asked his comrades while taking a seat on one of the sofas in the room. No one objected.

What would be happening soon was something they had repeated many times before, a discussion about preparing for a rebellion against {that one}.

In the first place, they only accepted {that one} because {that one} was extremely powerful.

{That one} probably learned of Corpus of the Abyss from some outer circle member. One day {that one} suddenly appeared before them and displayed its strength.

Banejieri and the others knelt to {that one} because they thought {that one} would act as a deterrent against the strongest beings of this world. They certainly didn’t do it to expand their organization.

But {that one} was the worst kind of leader.

First of all, Corpus of the Abyss was not founded to create disturbances in the middle of the continent. They would be troubled if {that one} thought they were just some convenient force that could be lent out for some pacts {that one} had.

So they decided to prepare a new deterrent against {that one}. It is the general consensus of everyone in the inner circle who got to meet {that one} the most.

Normally the more members were included in the plan, the higher the chances were of betrayal. If no one betrayed them, then that would be a demonstration of their lack of loyalty towards {that one}.

And at least for now, no one had betrayed them yet. The fact that Banejieri and others were still alive was proof of that.

Everyone here would have already been destroyed if they were betrayed. {That one} only ruled the organization to selfishly take Banejieri's and the others' research to strengthen itself. {That one} had been nothing more than a parasite feeding on them. Even so, {that one} would never think of tolerating their clandestine actions just because they were useful to {that one}.

Without a doubt, {that one} would take action to wipe out Banejieri and other conspirators if it ever doubted them.

{That one} didn’t have the leniency or open-mindedness a ruler should possess. {That one} was too wary about everything.

Therefore, the fact that they were safe showed {that one} hadn’t noticed their moves yet.

Fortunately, {that one} lacked the ability to dominate the undead.

(T/N: 欠けている could be interpreted either as not being good at something or the complete absence of an ability.)

Considering the difference in their strengths, {that one} could have easily controlled Banejieri and others if {that one} specialized in this field.

{Don’t think you can continue exploiting us forever!}

Banejieri bellowed silently and swept away the huge form of {that one} he just met from his mind.