Legacy of the Plains: Act 5, Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Though Ainz was tempted to stop and read through their newest discovery, worries over losing it somehow had him send it back to Nazarick to have copies made instead. In addition, the Baroness could only make out small parts of it so he would have to use a magic item to read it himself. This would either result in him appearing ignorant – especially considering Shalltear had been able to read some of it and he could not – or it would lead to an endless amount of questions over an endless number of things that he knew nothing about. It was better to be safe, in more ways than one.

The city of Lagaš was built on the confluence of the Katze River and two of its major tributaries. The rivers partitioned the city into four parts that were each themselves larger than the capital of Re-Estize. Over the next two days, Captain Iškur led them from place to place, visiting locations that he suspected might have preserved something of the past.

“The Baroness mentioned that you manifested here over a century ago,” Ainz said as they flew over the remaining uninvestigated section of the city. “Was this region in the same condition then as it is today?”

“Yes,” Captain Iškur replied. “The Eldest manifested a decade or so before I did and he didn’t say any differently about the place, either. Might I know why Your Majesty is asking?”

“I thought that if the transformation of the Katze Plains was recent, signs of its transition from fertile fields to wasteland might exist in your recollection.”

Ainz stared down at the cracked red clay as they crossed over the riverbank of the southwestern section. Though he was not a nature enthusiast like Blue Planet, the realities of his former world led to some knowledge about the soil – which looked similar to what lay below him. Earth’s runaway ecological collapse washed away organic matter and nutrients, leaving the same dense red clay he saw every day on his dreary commute to and from work.

It was not something that happened overnight, so if someone remembered the soil being different at some point, he could make an educated guess. Assuming such things worked the same way in this world, of course.

“I haven’t noticed any changes in the soil,” the Elder Lich said, “though an Elder Lich might not be the best person to ask. I’ll check with Ruin’s Wake afterwards if you’d like.”

“Would a Ghost Ship know more about that than an Elder Lich?” Shalltear asked.

“I sure hope so, my lady,” Captain Iškur answered, “she wouldn’t be much of a Druid otherwise.”

Ruin’s Wake was a Druid? Ainz supposed that the Job Class was suited for a ship.

But an Undead Druid? That doesn’t seem right…well, no, there’s an Undead Ranger flying out in front of us.

The natives of this world tended to follow ‘themes’ that resulted in their respective class builds – many quite stereotypical to fantasy settings. A sentient ship being a Druid made sense as they had had a variety of useful spells for a vessel. The problem was what ‘nature’ would be to an Undead Druid.

Did Ruin’s Wake act as a defender of the Katze Plains’ negative energy ‘ecology’? Would she ‘nurture’ this ecology and help it thrive and grow as regular Druids did with the lands of the living? It would be a logical conclusion, but for the fact that Baroness Zahradnik appeared to be the opposite of this. She acted as a living Ranger would: defending her territory, encouraging growth, and cleansing it of corrupting influences.

“Does Ruin’s Wake engage in any sort of Druid-like behaviours?” Ainz asked.

“There’s not much for her to do out here,” the Elder Lich answered, “but she does patrol the area even when I’m not on board. Most of her spells have to do with the weather or fighting together with her crew. When we leave the thick of the mists, she summons a fog wherever we go. Her personality is also very ‘Druid’.”

“Do you believe that this may cause problems beyond her usual patrol range? Some Druids can be quite aggressive when it comes to their stewardship of nature.”

“I highly doubt it, Your Majesty. Ruin’s Wake wouldn’t knowingly do anything to displease you.”

Captain Iškur claimed that the Ghost Ship was just as – if not more – excited about Ainz’s presence as the Elder Liches, but he had no idea how one could tell. If Ruin’s Wake was a ‘she’, and Baroness Zahradnik reacted as she did…

He shook the thought away.

“What about you, captain? Do you have any particular specialisation?”

“I’m an Evoker,” the Elder Lich replied. “An Air Elementalist, to be precise.”

“Hoh…that’s an interesting choice for an Elder Lich. Most would expect some sort of Necromancer.”

“Necromancy was the obvious choice, but then I met Ruin’s Wake. The inherent Skills of an Elder Lich are enough to provide a crew that can deal with most things we come across. It’s the powerful enemies that we need a decisive answer for.”

All things considered, it was a good combination. Ruin’s Wake had a crew composed of hundreds of the more powerful Undead taken from the area around Lagaš, which was enough to deal with nearly all of the suppression forces from Re-Estize and the Empire. Captain Iškur could eliminate major threats from the comfort of the Ghost Ship’s deck.

“The existence of Ruin’s Wake is little more than an unconfirmed bit of lore in the region, so you must not fight intruders often.”

“Sometimes you get small groups of Adventurers sniffing around, but no one’s tried anything big for a long time now.”

“When was the last time something ‘big’ happened?”

Captain Iškur fell silent, cocking his head as if in thought.

“About forty years ago, I think?” He said, “The Empire sent a small army in an attempt to hold and reclaim a strip of territory along their border. Those knights in their shiny plate didn’t get along well with my lightning spells – killed a few hundred before they gave up and retreated with their dead.”

“Hmm…they didn’t send their magic casters to fight you? The Empire is known for integrating arcane and divine casters in their forces.”

“They were there, but I don’t think they could figure out how to deal with us. The only way to see what was going on was to get inside the fog that Ruin’s Wake summoned. Anyone close enough to see us would also be in our casting range. If we needed to recover for some reason, all we had to do was retreat deeper into the plains. Any attempts at pursuit would get tangled up in all the Undead.”

Ainz supposed it was a good thing that Ruin’s Wake wasn’t so aggressive that she would intercept minor incursions along the border. Very few Adventurer and Worker teams from Re-Estize and Baharuth could stand up to the Ghost Ship and her Captain.

“What about the Draconic Kingdom and the Theocracy to the south? Have you had any run-ins with them?”

“The Theocracy is much stronger than anyone else around here,” Captain Iškur said. “Even their border patrols stand head and shoulders above the average Adventurer or Legionnaire that you see in the north. The Draconic Kingdom has a fairly weak military, so I made nearly all of my attempts at trade along their coastline.”

Nazarick did not have much information about the Draconic Kingdom. With the Theocracy – which had clear signs of Player influence – close by, Ainz had decided to ignore it in favour of their efforts in the northern Human nations. Considering the reception that Captain Iškur had received for the last few generations, it was probably for the best.

Their flight brought them to a large central plaza, and they landed along a line of rubble on one side.

“The southwest part of the city took the brunt of whatever was taking everything apart,” the Elder Lich said. “It’s a lot like the other places that have been flattened outside of Lagaš.”

Ahead of them, Baroness Zahradnik picked through the largest pile of rubble. The stormy atmosphere that had accompanied her before swiftly returned. Captain Iškur shifted closer to Ainz, lowering his voice.

“What’s wrong with the Baroness, Your Majesty?”

So he can feel it as well…

“The destruction of this nation infuriates her for various reasons.”

Ainz glanced at the Elder Lich as he replied, then turned his gaze back towards the Baroness. He was almost certain she was unconsciously using some sort of Skill. The question was why it was affecting Undead beings, who were supposed to be immune to mind-affecting spells and abilities.

The first possibility was that it wasn’t actually a mind-affecting ability. Of those abilities, Skills like Turn Undead and various forms of Undead control – which one would normally think should be ‘mind-affecting’ – was one such category. Another was what could be broadly described as ‘charisma-based’ abilities that included persuasion, intimidation, bluffs and such. Yggdrasil had no such mechanical elements, but this world certainly did.

Aside from those…

“Captain Iškur,” Ainz said. “The Eldest mentioned something about the Baroness attempting to exert some sort of influence. Did you feel that from her as well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“What about you, Shalltear?”

“Nothing to that effect, Ainz-sama. I believe he mentioned something about Dirgesingers?”

Ainz crossed his arms, looking up into the misty darkness. That was the other possibility. Dirgesingers were a Bard Prestige Class whose Skills and Abilities affected the Undead as they would the living. In Yggdrasil, they were more of a Job Class for roleplay since their specialisation only affected a small percentage of Players. Running into one was annoying for Ainz since his equipment was fashioned under the assumption that his Undead immunities wouldn’t be bypassed, but it wasn’t a problem for others.

The Baroness wasn’t a Bard, but another Job Class she had might be causing it. Even more concerning was the idea that she might have somehow come up with it as a Skill under one of her existing classes. Adventurers developing Martial Arts, Abilities and Skills was common enough, as was the research of new spells. Doing any of that was impossible in Yggdrasil, despite its vaunted degree of freedom as a DMMORPG.

I can feel it too – the insidious will of this thing encroaching on my reason. To trust and confide; to seek solace in its protection.

Given her background, he suspected that he already knew what it was. They were the feelings that one might have when under a noble of fantastic quality. Yet, in this world, fantasy was reality. Labelling things as fantastic according to the perspective of a humble salaryman from a bleak and mundane Earth made them no less real.

As Pandora’s Actor was wont to mention in his many analyses of Job Class Levels and build development, the people here often acted without truly realising what they were doing. It made it difficult for them to grasp and exploit the mechanics that drove what they did, but at the same time, all sorts of things could spring forth from a mere concept.

Baroness Zahradnik was a Noble who had become Undead. Thus she was an Undead Noble…or something like that. With this in mind, she had extended her charismatic influence to the Undead. Ainz and Shalltear were above her in the official hierarchy of the Sorcerous Kingdom, thus that influence did not fall upon them.

The question that remained was why her ‘bad mood’ could be felt by even Ainz and Shalltear. Was it something along the lines of friendly fire?

Ainz walked over to where the Baroness was still conducting her search through the rubble, clearing his throat.

“Zahradnik-dono,” he said. “Are you aware that you have a Skill active?”

The Baroness turned around to regard him with a look of momentary confusion. Seconds later, the sense of dread pressing down on him vanished.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” she lowered her head deeply. “In hindsight, I should have been more careful. The battlefield aura that I use mirrored my strong emotional state, as well.”

“If this is a battlefield aura,” he said, “you’re going to have to refine it. It’s currently affecting friend and foe alike. Do you have some sense of its effects?”

“I’m afraid not,” Baroness Zahradnik shook her head. “Only the feeling that comes with it. Just looking at some of these ruins…it’s frustrating. This happened so long ago that making things right again is most likely impossible, yet I still wish I could.”

“What is it about this particular structure that triggered the Skill?”

She lifted a piece of rubble with the toe of a solleret, flipping it over with a sigh.

“It appears to be the remains of a temple,” she replied. “From the layout of the rubble, there were four distinct sections radiating out from the central chamber. If it was of Human design, I would guess that each section was a chapel where the shrine of some deity was placed. Regardless of who or what they worshipped, temples are considered places of sanctuary that even soldiers in wartime will avoid disturbing. This is not only a cultural consideration, but a practical one as well: having a swarm of Clerics joining the enemy because you attacked their temple is a serious problem.”

Several hours passed as they went from site to site in the ruins, with little to show for their time. Though the Baroness had reined in the usage of her mysterious new Skill, a sense of unease still settled over Ainz. It wasn’t over the vast plain of rubble and the unknown history it represented, but the Human-turned-Revenant and the cool mask she wore as they conducted their search.

Ainz had no qualms when it came to the exploration of the game-like mechanics in this world, especially when so many mirrored those from Yggdrasil. He was confident enough in these mechanics that he treated brand new discoveries with a sense of intrigue rather than alarm. Those discoveries only added to his confidence as they were analysed and framed in familiar ways that he could turn to practical use.

Game mechanics were not the only aspect of Yggdrasil, however. There was its lore, economics, and the various interactions that occurred between members of its player base – aspects that were ultimately bound by the fact that it was designed as a game. Degrees of separation existed between a player and the game, making one feel that things were entertaining and ‘safe’ to consume.

In this New World that he found himself in, those degrees of separation did not exist. Everything was real and alive, and his grasp on many subjects was laughably deficient. Matters of governance and culture were as incomprehensible to him as how casters in this world understood and developed magic. His experience in sales only gave him the barest grasp of economics and infrastructure. The reality of this ‘fantasy’ world was so far removed from his former life that Ainz could only laugh at how carefree and easy the mass-produced isekai stories from Earth made it all seem.

His only saving grace was that Nazarick appeared to possess martial strength unapproached by any power in the immediate region. They had been able to get away with everything that they did simply because no one could do anything about it, but it was foolish to believe that they would enjoy this advantage forever.

Baroness Zahradnik represented an entire slew of the unknowns unique to this world. The idea that she was a Revenant and might follow the same lore as those in Yggdrasil was of particular concern to him. Unfortunately, there was no convenient reference to look up – no wiki, guide or forum to consult. Ultimately, approaching her directly with his questions was the best way to answer them.

With the end of their activities for the day approaching, he mustered his resolve to ask.