One of the Empire's Four Knights, "Lightning" Baziwood Peshmel. Jircniv’s most trusted advisor, Fluder Paradyne. There were also three trusted scribes.
He had also given orders for the royal guards to dig up the cracks in the courtyard for the corpses within. Though it seemed futile, he had ordered it anyway.
The Empire did not have anyone who could use resurrection spells. Even the adamantite ranked adventurers of the Empire did not have such power. Of the neighboring countries, perhaps only the Kingdom of Re-Estize and the Slane Theocracy could command such magic.
Even so, he still wanted to recover the bodies, because it was a waste to let the enchanted gear be lost with their owners. Also, recovering the bodies and laying them to rest would preserve morale and grant closure to the troops.
“Honored emissaries, you have travelled far and wide to grace us with your presence. Surely you must be thirsty? We have prepared some simple refreshments for you. We hope you will try some, if it pleases you to do so.”
Jircniv rang a chime, and the maidservants waiting outside quietly entered the room. There were over twenty maids, with covered silver trays.
After their arduous training, these maids moved with practiced, graceful ease.
But even in these movements, which made Jircniv secretly proud of their immaculate poise, he could detect slight missteps. It was precisely because the rest of their actions were so perfectly executed that the flaws stood out.
What's wrong? They've entertained so many dignitaries in the past without a hitch; why are they having problems now? Are they under the effect of some kind of magic?
Jircniv wanted to reach under his garments and grab his medallion of mental protection, but he forced himself to resist the urge. The medal was effective precisely because people did not know it was there; if they knew he possessed such an item, it would only end poorly for him.
When the maids faltered after looking on the two dark elves, he finally found his reason.
Aha, so that's why… it’s because they're fascinated by their looks. Well, it's not as though I don't understand… no, dammit. I mustn't make a fool of myself.
Perhaps, for only wavering this much in the face of such majesty, he should be praising the maids instead.
After depositing the drinks and snacks, the maids bowed and filed out.
“Then, please, do help yourselves.”
“Hmmm~”
The dark elf boy raised a glass with a bored expression on his face. It was easily a treasure in its own right, its transparent crystal etched with exquisite artistry. Although sculptured glass like this was not of particular interest to Jircniv, that wasn't to say that he did not appreciate such things.
Even a simple eating utensil used to welcome a guest could be used to show of the glory of the Empire, to let them know exactly what kind of people they were dealing with.
The dark elf boy took a mouthful of the beverage.
No caution at all… is he not on guard for poison, or does he have magic that protects him from such things? Or did he already sense that I had no such intentions?…or is it something else? Hm, that girl doesn't seem worried either.
“This doesn't taste particularly good. And there isn't anything else unusual about it either.”
The boy's words shocked Jircniv. Nobody had ever said something like this to him, even when he had been a child himself. When the surprise faded, it was replaced by a mild anger blazing up in his heart — what a rude boy. But of course, Jircniv wasn't foolish enough to let that irritation reach his face.
“Then, I sincerely apologize for the ill-treatment of your esteemed person,” Jircniv smiled at the boy. “I pray you might be so kind as to enlighten me as to your favored beverage, that I may prepare some for you on future visits.”
…Did nothing unusual mean no poison? Did he believe that I would be trying to poison him from the beginning? What did he mean by that?
“The things I want are probably things you can't prepare.”
“S-Sis, y-you're being rude…”
“Oh? Am I now?”
Sis? So he's not a boy, but a girl. They're not brother and sister, but just sisters?
Come to think of it, he did look like a girl.
Why… dressing as a male… no, perhaps she wanted to dress in clothes that allowed for freedom of movement? Children of their age are kind of androgynous anyway. What if… the other one was a male… no, the way she's dressed, there's no way she could be. Still… the younger sister's quite honest.
Although Jircniv had considered how to bring the girl with the staff over to his side, and how to build a good relationship with them, which might benefit the Empire, he still could not make his move without gaining more information.
To begin with, he could not forget how this “honest” girl had massacred so many of his men.
Treading recklessly around her would be like sticking one's hand into the maw of a sleeping dragon.
Still, it's something. I need to see how the other side plays their cards.
“Then, honored guest, allow me to introduce myself once more. I am Jircniv Rune Farlord el Nix of the Baharuth Empire. I am certainly cognizant of Lady Fiora's own noble name, but might I inquire as to yours?”
“Ah, I–I'm Mare Bello Fiore.”
“My deepest thanks, Lady Fiore. Then, with reference to what Lady Fiora said, specifically ‘Lord Ainz is very unhappy and will destroy this country unless he is appeased’… I assume that I, as the presumed offender in question, will be making my way to Nazarick?”
“Isn't that obvious?”
A simple line, but dripping with frostiness.
From the beginning, the dark elf called Aura had no warmth in her eyes. She looked at people like she was looking at insects.
Then, a question.
Technically speaking, there was nothing wrong with what they said, but the question still remained as to how much weight their words should be given, as well as how they had learned about his involvement. Under normal circumstances, he would confuse them with blather and then take action, but the people in front of him were anything but normal.
“Then… am I right to say that Ainz Ooal Gown-dono was fine with personally ordering the two of you to come here?”
“Yes, he was… what about it?”
“Nothing, I was just making sure.”
Jircniv sank deep into thought.
Who was Ainz Ooal Gown? A dark elf, a tomb, a dragon, none of these went together. There had to be some common factor between them. Was he a dark elf who once lived in a forest, then moved into a tomb on the plains? Then the dragon would be the pet monster of the dark elf tribe leader Ainz Ooal Gown.
Jircniv dispersed his wild theories.
…I should leave the tales to the bards. My job is collecting information and learning the truth.