Three days had passed since Takano Yuto defeated the three ogres, and his right shoulder had nearly healed. In a small stone chamber on the 9th floor of Nazarick, Yuto sat on the edge of a bed, tracing his fingertip along the mask fragment in his pocket. Hard material painted black. The shape of a raven's beak. Dried rust-red stains lingering at the edges. Should he show this to someone? For three days, he had found no answer. The corridor outside grew suddenly frantic around the middle of that night. Rapid footsteps passed beyond the stone wall in succession. Not undead soldiers. Something faster—the urgency of something being rushed. Yuto strained to listen. From far away—truly far away—he caught the scent of smoke. No, it wasn't his imagination. Even in a windowless stone room, faint outside air drifted through Nazarick's ventilation system. Mixed within it was unmistakably the smell of something burning. And then. A faint human voice. Not a scream—but a wailing cry. (Carne Village.) A map materialized in his mind. About 25 kilometers north of Nazarick. The village Ainz had saved once. This direction. This distance. The mask fragment pressed against his finger in his pocket. Void Crow had come close to Nazarick's entrance. For three days, Yuto had carried this fragment. Albedo had said his black mist resembled theirs. If that were true—his existence might have drawn that village to them. (I have no choice.) He fastened his thin blade to his waist and left the room. Albedo's surveillance was thin at night. That was something he'd learned in the eight days since arriving. He ran through the corridor, heading for the exit to Nazarick's upper levels. Two armored skeletons passed him, but neither stopped him. They seemed to be the type incapable of judging actions outside their authority. When he emerged above ground, the sky was red. The northern direction glowed bright. Fire. Yuto ran at full speed. --- It took twenty minutes to reach Carne Village. As he drew closer, the smell of smoke grew thicker. The dry scent of burning wood. And—the smell of blood. At the village entrance, Yuto stopped once. Fire had spread to the houses. Blazing orange flames lit the night sky, and within that light, black-masked figures moved. Counting them, at least twenty. All wore raven-beaked masks. Void Crow. A mother trying to escape ran, both arms cradling a child. A masked combatant caught up. A blade swept horizontally. The mother shielded the child, taking the blade in her abdomen. She collapsed without a sound. The child wailed. Further back, an old man was kicked down, trampled as he lay on the ground. Something burned in the depths of his mind. (A heated swordsman dies.) His master's voice. The wooden floor of the dojo, the white-haired old man repeating those words again and again. A swordsman whose judgment dulled with anger would be killed, no matter how high their skill. Yuto exhaled slowly, just once. He approached the first combatant from the shadows of the flames. From behind, without sound. He aimed the thin blade's point at the tendons of the right shoulder—and thrust. The sensation of severing tendons. Before the combatant could collapse, Yuto suppressed him with his knee, preventing any sound. First one. The second noticed from beyond the flames and came forward. Blade raised, stepping in. Yuto deflected the trajectory with minimal movement to the right, countering with a thrust to the throat. The combatant fell against the wall. Second one. The third burst from the shadows. Yuto swept his legs, dropped him, and drove a thrust into his abdomen, immobilizing him. Third one. The villagers' screams stopped in one direction. People who had fled from where Yuto stood rushed past his back. That was enough, he thought. But. The remaining sixteen masks all turned toward him at once. An encirclement began. And then—from within that circle, one figure stepped forward. Massive. Over two meters tall. Beneath the black mask, an eerie red light leaked out. The muscles of both arms were swollen more than twice the size of a human's, and just looking at them made it clear this was not a normal human body. Body enhancement sorcery—technology derived from Yggdrasil that Void Crow used. The killing intent radiating from that massive frame altered the very air around it. "[cold]……Hmm. So this is the child of black mist." A low, emotionless voice. Eyes that looked down on Yuto as if testing him. (Easily exceeds the upper limit of silver-rank. Don't meet it with the blade.) He judged instantly. But it was too late. Garudo's fist descended. Yuto tried to receive it with his thin blade—the impact pierced through the blade and his entire arm. His body lifted into the air. He flew back four meters. His back slammed into the ground. All the air left him. He tried to stand. His legs moved. He managed to get to one knee when Garudo's follow-up strike drove into his abdomen. A cracking sound came from inside his body. His ribs. Broken. His vision turned yellow. He couldn't breathe. His lungs weren't moving. Still, he commanded his body not to fall, but his knee buckled. Garudo's right foot pressed down on his head. His face was forced into the ground. He tasted sand and soil. A stone bit into his cheek. But worse—the sensation of his thin blade being drawn from his waist. His weapon being taken. That sensation. Complete helplessness. His hand couldn't reach. His fingers couldn't reach. He could do nothing. The village chief was suspended in the air. Garudo's single hand gripped the man's neck, lifting him. The chief's face turned red. His legs kicked uselessly at empty air. "[cold]Tell Nazarick. Hand over the child of black mist—if you do, we'll burn nothing more." Garudo pocketed the thin blade from Yuto's waist. Then he withdrew. Dropping the village chief to the ground. The twenty combatants disappeared as quietly as they had come. Yuto slowly lifted his face from the ground where it had been pressed. The village was burning. --- He returned to Nazarick before dawn. His right arm was heavy. The broken ribs shot sharp pain with each breath. His clothes were stained with blood, mud, and soot. His thin blade was gone. Only the empty holster at his waist swayed in the wind. In the corridor past the entrance, Albedo stood waiting. Her jet-black long hair was braided, and her golden eyes looked at Yuto. From top to bottom, a single glance. Her expression was unreadable. Only her eyes saw everything. "[cold]Let me confirm something." Her voice was quiet. Polite and cold. "[cold]You ignored orders and acted alone. You allowed your weapon to be taken by the enemy. Twelve villagers died." Yuto said nothing. It was all true. "[cold]If you had not existed—Void Crow would have had no reason to target that village. Do you understand the fact that your existence drove those villagers to their deaths?" "[serious]……Yes." That was all he could say. Every word Albedo spoke was logically sound. There was no word with which to argue back. That was what hurt most. Being yelled at would have been easier than having emotionless, precise words laid out one after another. It was far heavier. Yuto stood with his head down. --- It was Albedo who summoned Ainz. Ainz appeared in the grand hall of the 9th floor. A 205-centimeter skeleton in a jet-black mantle. Burning red eyes of magic looked first at Yuto, then at Albedo. "[cold]I must report, Ainz-sama." Albedo produced a piece of paper. Something like a graph with two waveforms drawn side by side. "[cold]This is the black mist composition data we observed during Yuto's transfer. And this is the composition data of the black mist used by Void Crow." She laid them out side by side. "[cold]They match perfectly." The grand hall fell silent. "[cold]The executive called Garudo referred to Yuto as the 'child of black mist.' Combined with this match and that designation—the possibility that he is a spy connected to Void Crow. Or perhaps a decoy sent to destroy Nazarick from within. At this point, there exists no basis to deny either possibility." Yuto lifted his head. He looked at Albedo. Her golden eyes met his directly. Not the face of someone lying. The face of someone who truly believed it. (Can I deny it?) He asked himself. He couldn't. He didn't know why he had transferred here. He didn't know why he was called the child of black mist. He didn't know what material his thin blade was made of. He was ignorant of everything, and he had no way to prove he wasn't a spy. Ainz was silent for a long time. Red eyes of magic looked at Yuto. Analyzing. Calculating. Pure judgment, not emotion. "[serious]……Put him in the dungeon." A single sentence. No emotion. No hesitation. Only a decision rendered. Before Yuto could say anything, arms grabbed him from both sides. Two undead soldiers. Cold metal hands squeezed his arms. The broken ribs resonated with pain, and Yuto gritted his teeth. He made no sound. Ainz said nothing more. He turned on his heel and disappeared down the corridor. Albedo didn't see him off. She remained standing in place the entire time Yuto was being taken away, watching silently with her golden eyes. Yuto met those eyes until the very end. --- The lowest level of Nazarick was stone. Walls, floor, ceiling—all cold stone. A few torches were driven into the iron bars beyond, their flames dimly illuminating the cell. Chains were driven into the wall. Those chains connected to both his wrists. The soldiers left. The iron bars closed with a sound. A key turned. Silence. Yuto pressed his back against the wall. Slowly, he slid down and sat. The chain struck the floor with a sound. The broken ribs stabbed with pain each time he moved. His breathing grew shallow. He couldn't breathe deeply. He closed his eyes. In the darkness, Carne Village burned. The mother shielding the child collapsed. The old man was trampled into the ground. Twelve people died. Garudo had said it. Hand over the child of black mist. Yuto still didn't have the answer to what he was. Why he was here. But one thing was certain. People had died because he existed. (Would it have been better if I didn't exist?) The cold of the stone seeped into his back. The torch light cast the shadow of the iron bars across the floor, and that grid pattern swayed faintly. His thin blade was taken. He was restrained. He had no means to atone for his guilt, no evidence to deny the suspicion. Right now, he had nothing. And yet. (And yet, I have no choice.) Even without an answer, those words alone surfaced. Garudo had said "hand over." That meant Void Crow needed Yuto. Whatever the reason—it might be the only thread connecting to why he existed here. In the darkness of the dungeon, Yuto opened his eyes. Chained to the wall, back pressed against stone, he simply stared at the torch light.