Chapter 16
The insane babble endlessly rolled over them as the spectral Undead went from where they passed through the wall of the tower to the Blood Meat Hulk that had rammed it.
In the New World, Ainz discovered that, unless they were specifically supposed to be something – such as a Ghost Dragon – spectral Undead tended to appear in the form of the species that witnessed them. A Human would see a Human, a Goblin would see a Goblin, an Ogre would see an Ogre, and so on. He wasn’t sure how they appeared to other Undead beings, but because he saw them as Humans, Ainz didn’t ask as revealing that fact had various risks that came with it. Since they appeared in the way that they did to an observer, he figured that he could simply define them by using neutral, vague characteristics and get away with it.
The Undead that had burst out of the wall of the tower were not identical in appearance to one another, but they did all had the same sort of look. Their spectral forms were adorned in light clothing or robes with various articles that suggested they were accustomed to working in an office, an archive, or at least behind a desk. He was not familiar enough with the fashion of the locals that he could tell if they were clerks or mages or clergy.
They swarmed the Blood Meat Hulk, flailing away at it with their incorporeal fists. Since they did not have a true physical form, they piled atop one another, quickly turning into a glowing ectoplasmic mound.
Seeing that the new Undead did not pose any immediate threat, the Baroness relaxed her guard. She looked up at the tower before flying over to Ainz and Shalltear at their place behind the Undead company.
“I’ve not seen this type of Undead before,” she raised her voice over the noise. “Are they Ghosts?”
“They’re known as Allips,” he shouted back. “Undead that manifest in the form of insane individuals. They’re very annoying, but harmless to the Undead. Any sane creature that isn’t immune to mind-affecting spells and abilities has a chance of becoming hypnotised if they hear the babbling of an Allip. Like many other spectral Undead, their attacks deal ability damage. Telepathic contact with them – such as the link between a dominated individual and their controller – will do the same thing. Those that receive this ability damage will slowly have their mental faculties diminished until they fall into a nightmare-filled coma. You could say that they are a nightmare waiting to happen.”
Baroness Zahradnik nodded at his explanation. She then looked up at the tower again, unappreciative of his joke. Fortunately, Ainz’s sigh was concealed by the endless babbling of the Allips.
In Yggdrasil, Allips were only a problem when players did not have the requisite immunities for their hypnotic babble and their touch attacks. In this world, there were few people with access to equipment that provided this protection, so despite being roughly Level 9, Allips were quite deadly. Groups of people within earshot could be hypnotised, after which the Allip could turn them all into mental vegetables at its leisure.
The Baroness ordered the Blood Meat Hulk to return to the company’s ranks, and the aggravated Allips went with it. He eyed the giant glowing blob walking away from the tower.
Can I Fireball that?
He really wanted to. Blowing up over a thousand targets with a single Fireball would be quite satisfying.
“Zahradnik-dono, what do you plan on doing with…why do you keep looking up there?”
Ainz looked up at the tower. He couldn’t see anything.
“Waiting.”
As if on cue, a Skeleton fell from the broken top of the tower to shatter on the ground below. Another followed, and soon dozens were falling through the air. The trickle turned into a torrent as hundreds of Undead fell to their demise.
“…don’t tell me you were expecting that.”
“When we were clearing the garrison barracks, I noticed that the Undead followed corridors and such whenever they could. It’s also a common tactic to lure mindless Undead into pits or off of high places to destroy them – something even a Farmer can do at little risk to themselves. I figured that this would happen since there’s no apparent entrance to the tower.”
“I see.”
Ganking low levels. Training. Pathing and AI exploits. If Baroness Zahradnik was a Player, she’d be a dirty one.
Several minutes passed before the cascade of Undead stopped.
“What did you plan on doing with this noisy bun–”
…then it started again as the Zombies caught up and flung themselves to their deaths. Despite the sheer amount of bones and rotting flesh that should have piled up at the base of the tower, nothing remained as their corpses disintegrated. The Baroness turned to address him.
“We’ve only drawn out the Undead from this part of the tower’s interior,” she said. “I was thinking of gathering them all up, but I hadn’t realised they’d be so loud.”
Ainz imagined blowing up ten thousand targets with a single Fireball. Surely no one had done that before – the lag alone would have triggered some failsafe or crashed the game servers. He deliberated over the amount of noise they would have to endure and the reward awaiting him at the end.
It’s not as if we can go deaf. Then again, this is pretty annoying…
As he agonised, the Baroness marched off with her company, leaving the haunted Blood Meat Hulk behind. Ainz gave it one last, longing look before following after her.
“Shall I decorate myself in Allips, Ainz-sama?”
He turned to look at Shalltear in confusion.
“What?”
“The gaze you cast upon that Blood Meat Hulk was so…”
“Y-you’re misunderstanding something, Shalltear!” He stammered, “I was just curious…”
“…curious?”
“Yes, curious. About whether there is a cap for the number of targets an area of effect spell can affect.”
A dull thud shook the air as another Blood Meat Hulk rammed a different part of the tower. Ainz cleared his throat and used the sound as an excuse to catch up and focus on the Baroness’ work.
Stolen story; please report.
Roughly an hour later, Baroness Zahradnik seemed satisfied with her cleanup efforts. The Skeleton Warriors in her company spread out, and the Bone Vultures started picking them up to deliver to the top of the tower. Seeing his chance, Ainz floated down to speak to her.
“When did you come up with this method of transport?”
“I wasn’t flying Skeleton Warriors around back then,” the Baroness replied, “but due to my experience using Bone Vultures as couriers in my demesne, I know how much they can carry. For the same reason, I was able to conceive of dropping the Red Skeleton Warriors in the plaza.”
“I see…what about your Blood Meat Hulks? Do you have a way to get them up there?”
“Unfortunately, I do not, Your Majesty.”
“In that case, there is an experiment I’d like to conduct. It should save us some time later, as well.”
“There’s no need to be so reserved, Your Majesty,” the noblewoman replied. “This is your excursion. More importantly, you are our sovereign – if it is within our power, we nobles will do what we can to accommodate your will.”
Ainz understood this to be the case due to his observations of Jircniv, but being so ‘kingly’ in more personal and private interactions still made his nonexistent nose itch. As a former salaryman with certain modes of interaction drilled into him, acting as a sovereign felt uncomfortable and overbearing. He glanced at the Baroness as he waffled over what to say. She only looked back at him with her small, yet warm smile.
“…then gather all of the Blood Meat Hulks in a single spot over there,” he pointed at an open spot on the ground. “I will be investigating whether the potency of area of effect spells is diminished with extreme numbers of targets.”
The Baroness did as she was instructed, and the endless babbling of the Allips rose to what must have been an unbearable volume for the living. Ainz pointed his finger at the gathering of Blood Meat Hulks.
“「Widen Magic – Fireball」!”
A fist-sized sphere of flame shot out and landed in the middle of the target area. The surrounding mists pulsed away as the huge conflagration rose into the air. Both flesh and incorporeal forms were incinerated in the ensuing inferno.
“Umu.”
“That was an unexpected outcome,” the Baroness murmured.
Ainz glanced down at the rapidly disintegrating remains of the Blood Meat Hulks.
“I-it was?”
“As far as I have both read and observed,” she explained, “area of effect spells like Fireball can be thwarted by barriers such as doors and shield walls. I thought that the Blood Meat Hulks would act in a similar fashion to shield the Allips on the far side of the explosion.”
“Your basic grasp of how this can happen is not wrong,” he told her. “This generalisation, however, is simply due to the lack of powerful magic casters in the region. Spells deal damage not only to people, but to objects as well. If a Fireball deals enough durability damage to break an item such as a shield or a door, it will continue onwards to fill its area of effect. The same applies to walls, boulders, bodies, or any other obstacles. Unlike a physical blow that might be reduced in power when piercing through armour, a spell applies its full power to everything caught in its effect unless there are special conditions attached to it.”
“So if a ‘shield’ is immune to the damage delivered by the spell, those behind it will be safe?”
“If it can be blocked, yes. You can, for instance, shield a child from a Frost Dragon’s breath attack and the both of you will come out of it unscathed. A Cone of Cold spell, however, deals damage by draining all heat from a specified area, so it cannot be blocked. Many Lightning-type spells travel through their targets or jump from target to target, so while you may be immune to lightning, a Lightning Bolt or Chain Lightning spell will still hit the person you’re trying to cover.”
“Thank you for your explanation, Your Majesty.”
The Baroness lowered her head before flying up to the ‘roof’ of the broken tower. There, she reorganised her company before they made their way down a wide flight of stairs that followed the inside of the outer wall. Ainz found himself looking down a corridor that slowly curved away and out of sight in both directions.
“I don’t think this is anything like a keep tower,” the Baroness said. “There are no emplacements for defensive siege weapons or even arrow slits for archers and mages.”
Like its exterior, the other side of the tower wall was smooth and featureless. Ainz scanned the area until he found what he was looking for: a telltale glow in his Arcane Vision. He walked up to a massive support column, running his bony hand down its smooth surface.
“This column is reinforced with magic,” he said, “just like the structural elements in the garrison barracks. I suspect we’ll see a lot of this in here.”
Despite the soundness of the interior, it seemed bereft of any furnishings or anything that might have been used by its living occupants in the past. Just like the places they had visited previously, someone had been very thorough in making sure there was nothing left. Great sections of wall where he thought murals might have been carved had been defaced. It was probable that those walls had been enchanted, but someone had taken the additional effort just to erase what was there.
They went from room to room, finding that a smattering of Undead remained. Ainz walked up to an Allip who was babbling away while leafing through the nonexistent book in its hand.
With the way he sounds, Fluder may as well be one of these guys.
As his thoughts touched on the half-mad magic caster, another notion occurred to him. He looked around at the surviving Undead.
“You said this place wasn’t anything like a keep tower,” he said. “Could it be that it was a mage tower?”
“A mage tower?”
Ainz was briefly taken aback at her confusion. His mind worked to scrounge up an explanation.
“A place for magic casters like the Imperial Ministry of Magic,” he said. “Though this place dwarfs their building.”
Baroness Zahradnik wandered around, looking closely at the Undead and their surroundings.
“I believe you are correct, Your Majesty. The Allips all look like robed casters or clergy, and there are many Skeleton Mages present. This one here looks like he’s searching through a bookshelf that’s no longer here. There are many sitting at nonexistent tables and desks, as well performing the motions of reading.”
He nodded as she confirmed his observations and provided more support for his conjecture. As they continued to make their way through the halls and corridors, visions of libraries, studies and laboratories painted over the bare, featureless stone. Other places appeared to be living areas lined with bedrooms.
Their wanderings took them to the next floor. At the bottom of the stairs, the Baroness let out a sigh filled with frustration and anger. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and even Shalltear cast a look of concern in her direction. The rare expression gave Ainz pause.
“Does something displease you, Zahradnik-dono?”
“This ‘mage tower’…is a university.”
“A university?”
Universities existed on Earth, but they were exclusively attended by the upper crust of society who would become the next generation of corporate executives and their staff. Some people attended specific vocational schools where they would have the skills required to perform their jobs crammed into their heads as quickly as possible. Everyone else could not even afford that, entering the workforce with an elementary education. Ainz belonged to the last category, and his only ‘knowledge’ of them was how they were portrayed in games and fiction.
“The Theocracy has a handful of them,” the Baroness replied, “though they are nowhere near as expansive as this place. It is one of the institutions that I have ultimately planned for Warden’s Vale: a place of learning, development, research and the preservation of knowledge.”
She swallowed, her neck tense with anger.
“This place was a bastion of civilization,” her voice shook. “Human civilization. And someone went out of their way to scour it from history. How many centuries ago did the nation here thrive? What would this region – no, the world look like if Katze had survived? I look at these halls – at all of the culture, progress and knowledge that must have been lost – and I cannot decide whether to scream in rage or weep in sorrow.”