The Death of Magnus Alban

Magnus Alban.

Deep in the Washburn Mountains stood the ancient fortress where he made his home…

And tonight, an uninvited guest had come calling.

Before closing in on the castle, Ainz drew a mask from his inventory. He had crafted it himself after his reincarnation, and it carried two effects.

The first caused light to bloom from designated points on the mask whenever the wearer willed it — nothing more than a theatrical flourish, useful for bluffing. Ainz had planned to put that particular trick to work if he ever sparred with Nephthys.

The second effect was the one he needed now: it warped the wearer's voice into a grating, noise-laced mechanical drone.

Mask secured, Ainz stationed his undead in ambush positions around the grounds, then approached the castle itself.

"Halt right there."

Thalaza, one of the Fifth Corps' Ancient Undead, had spotted him.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

"This is the residence of Corps Commander Magnus. Come any closer and…"

"I know. I'm here to kill him."

Thalaza flinched. Protocol demanded that anyone who threatened a Corps Commander be eliminated on the spot. But the moment Ainz activated his Aura of Despair, Thalaza found himself unable to move a muscle.

Ainz's body was unmistakably human, and he possessed a human ego — yet his true essence, mental structure included, leaned far closer to that of an undead. The Aura of Despair served as the trigger, and Thalaza, as a fellow undead, felt the crushing gulf in rank with absolute clarity.

"Even if you try to stop me, I'll respect your choice. Even if that choice ends with me erasing you from existence."

Thalaza reeled at the thought of a Corps-bound undead clearing a path for his Commander's enemy — and yet he could not defy Ainz. He stepped aside.

"That's your decision, is it? Wise."

Ainz's voice dripped with cynicism as he strode into the castle.

"Fifth Corps Commander Magnus Alban. I already know you've thrown in with the Association."

The man staring at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the intruder who had teleported unceremoniously into his chambers was Magnus himself — a figure of almost delicate, unmasculine bone structure, framed by long cascading hair.

"Who sent you? Kizen?"

Magnus looked the interloper up and down. He didn't seem particularly strong. In truth, Ainz's anti-detection ring was suppressing every trace of his presence — but Magnus had no way of knowing that.

"That hardly matters. No reason to enlighten a dead man."

"Dead? Me? You must mean that you're the one about to die."

Ainz and Magnus closed the distance and traded blows in close combat. Magnus, once a student of Kizen, unleashed the magical martial arts he had learned there. Ainz wreathed his body in jet-black darkness and met the assault with a foundation of martial techniques he had studied as a hobby in his previous life — blocking, parrying, and occasionally countering.

"Your martial skill is impressive! Doesn't look like magical combat, though… Where did you learn that?"

Ainz answered with silence and more attacks, but Magnus's magical martial arts gradually began to push him back.

"You're not half bad yourself… but this ends now!"

Magnus's fist rocketed toward Ainz —

The spell slashed the incoming damage to a fraction of what it should have been.

"A defensive spell?! You weren't a warrior at all!"

"I never claimed to be one."

Ainz began layering silent-cast enhancement magic over himself.

"I'll grant you that close combat isn't really my strong suit. So let's do this properly from here on."

Buffs in place, he cast one more spell.

"Teleportation is sealed. Don't even think about running."

Magnus's mind raced. At minimum, this opponent was on the level of a Kizen professor — teleportation magic itself required that caliber of power. And a spell that blocked teleportation meant the man standing before him was something greater still.

He settled on a surefire way to kill him.

"Averis! Fifth Corps! All of you — kill this bastard!"

Averis, the Ancient Undead who administered the Fifth Corps, and the rest of the Corps undead were all present. They heard the order. But just as Thalaza had moments before, every last one of them felt the yawning rank disparity between themselves and Ainz — undead to undead.

"What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are you doing?! Kill him already!"

Magnus kept barking, and after a few more seconds the truth of the situation finally sank in. The entire Fifth Corps was terrified of the intruder.

"Th-that's impossible! Are you lot actually afraid of him?!"

"Looks that way. Shall we wrap this up, then?"

Magnus's heart materialized in Ainz's hand, and Ainz crushed it. Instant-death magic — and Magnus managed to resist it. But the true core of Grasp Heart was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never the kill itself. Against a target who survived the instant death, it inflicted a profound state of stupefaction.

"Ghhhkk—!!"

"You actually tanked that… I suppose even an unofficial Corps Commander is still a Corps Commander. But…"

How much longer can you hold out?

The second squeeze. Magnus staggered, collapsed, and caught himself on the floor with one hand.

The third. He no longer had the strength to brace himself or even scream.

The fourth. His heart pulped in Ainz's grip, and the last thread of life snapped.

Ainz regarded the Fifth Corps undead with perfect calm.

"I'm taking command of the Fifth Corps. From this moment on, you answer to me. Understood?"

Averis, the Corps administrator, bowed his shadow-wrought form in submission.

"Command us as you will, Master."

Ainz's tar-black darkness flooded outward across the entire Fifth Corps, and the same jet-black essence began to seep from every undead present. Their wills linked at once, and Ainz felt the shape of their thoughts.

If an ordinary undead's will is a water droplet, an Ancient Undead's is about the size of a lake. Not that it matters.

His own will as an undead was a continent, an island — no, a boundless ocean whose far shore could never be seen. The mental presence of an Ancient Undead was beneath his notice.

Ainz severed Magnus's head and left it in a conspicuous place, arranged alongside physical evidence proving the man's collusion with the Association. Then he looked down at the headless trunk and activated a skill.

A liquid black as tar swallowed Magnus's torso whole.

The spectacle bore no resemblance whatsoever to the way an ordinary summoning-type Necromancer raised the dead. The Fifth Corps watched in a mixture of shock and reverence — though none of them dared display either emotion before their new master.

A long while after Ainz departed the castle with the Fifth Corps in tow, the Necromancer operatives of Kizen headquarters known as the Crows arrived at Magnus's fortress.

Bahil Amagar — Kizen's Curse Magic professor and the youngest Crow agent — was the one who found Magnus's severed head.

"What in the world…! A Corps Commander, gone in an instant…! Where's the body? There's only the head—!"

Bahil was too stunned to finish a coherent sentence. Another Crow offered a theory.

"It's a Corps Commander's corpse. Whoever did this likely recovered the body to turn it into a powerful undead. Leaving the head behind… feels deliberate. As if someone wanted it found exactly like this."

The Crows then discovered the various pieces of evidence Ainz had arranged around the head.

"This is…!"

Magnus had been flagged as a dangerous individual ever since his student days at Kizen — after becoming a Corps Commander he had murdered a Kizen professor and fled. But open proof of collusion with the Association was a shock even to the Crows.

They recovered the head and the evidence, resolved to report everything to Nephthys, and left the fortress behind.

Ainz distributed the Fifth Corps undead among fortresses he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had prepared in suitable locations. Day by day, the breadcrumbs he had scattered began to take effect, and Nephthys herself started taking an interest in "the one who killed Magnus."

Ainz deliberately left a trail of traces, drawing her toward a deserted location of his choosing. Exactly as he intended, Nephthys judged the matter high-risk enough to warrant personal attention and began tracking the clues herself.

At last she entered the place Ainz had selected — and Ainz was ready.

First, he raised a single gold coin as a sacrifice and activated a magic item.

Nephthys's life force resolved into a gauge across Ainz's field of vision.

Next he cast the spell repeatedly — a magic that sealed specific spells in storage, ready to be unleashed on the trigger word "Release." Through Greater Magic Seal he banked Myriad Thunder Annihilation, along with Vermillion Nova — among the highest-tier fire-attribute anti-personnel spells in existence — and a battery of other devastating elemental attacks.

Then came the enhancements, layer upon layer, wrapping Ainz in power.

When the buffs were sufficient and Nephthys had drawn close enough, Ainz unleashed a tenth-tier spell.

Nephthys snapped a defensive barrier into place and weathered the impact. Then she looked toward where Ainz stood.

"Hey, you. You're the one who killed Magnus, right? Attacking out of nowhere, though — what's that about?"

"So you're Nephthys Arkvold. Smaller than I expected."

Nephthys said nothing, simply began preparing a spell aimed at Ainz. He delivered the line he had rehearsed.

Nephthys and Ainz locked spells on each other.