Overlord (WN)

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Rangoburt Eck Waria Roberbad returned home.

As expected of a noble, his house was of a respectable design.

Standing next to him, Momon raised a murmur of admiration and looked around. It was honestly quite embarrassing. Fortunately, none of the servants were present, and the only one that could see him was himself.

Normally, he would strongly chide him, but today and today alone, he had no desire to do so. The group that he was leading had risen up against him, and the shock was enough of a reason to ignore this faux pas.

Another reason was that he did not want to dampen the spirits of his sole group member.

Rangoburt took a good look at Momon.

He seemed to be a bit of an oaf, and his eyes lacked the sparkle found in those with sharp minds.

(Exactly who is he?)

Rangoburt recalled their first meeting at the garden.

As they were meeting for the first time, Rangoburt had introduced himself. When meeting another person for the first time, one would exchange one's name with the other party. This was a matter of course, but it had an additional connotation in high society.

One could discern the relationship between the two families and understand their relative strengths and weaknesses. They would then begin a battle of words in order to determine the superior party. Understanding where one stood was extremely important in noble society, and perhaps this social practice even extended to the commoners. If there were too many captains steering the ship, one must be chosen amongst them.

Rangoburt had asked Momon for his name precisely for this purpose.

However, the result was something unimaginable.

At first, Momon did not show any reaction, but after seemingly remembering something, he nodded several times. Rangoburt had initially assumed that Momon had realised who was the superior one, but his assumption was completely off.

All of a sudden, Momon began to speak in a relaxed and casual manner, in other words, he was being extremely chummy with him.

This had naturally upset Rangoburt. But there was a reason why he had no choice but to accept it.

Going down the list of reasons Momon would speak to him in such a manner, there was only one possible answer: He was of a higher station than himself.

But if that was the case, the problem was with Momon's reply.

(….Just who is he?)

This question repeated itself within Rangoburt's mind. He then took another look at Momon's unexceptional face. It was completely devoid of the refined and graceful features found on nobles. It was a commoner's face. However, he felt that he was not a mere peasant.

Especially if his assumption that he had outside blood, that he came from the south, was true.

(Momon….)

Despite having introduced his full name, the young man had only replied with Momon.

Nobles had four parts to their name. Commoners had two. Then what sort of person had only one? They either had no idea who their parents were or had abandoned their family name.

Adventurers often did this as well. Some believed that this was cool.

So, just what was this person standing before him?

It was not impossible for him to be an adventurer. But then, it did not make sense. Why would an adventurer enrol in the Academy?

The reason why he was bringing this teammate, who he knew nothing about, to his residence, was because he said that he wanted to meet his father.

Normally, Rangoburt would have refused this request.

However, in his current situation, his hands were tied. And if Momon was indeed of a higher rank than himself, a refusal would worsen his position.

And so after adding on the condition that he would not force the issue if his father was busy or not present, Rangoburt relented.

While Rangoburt was considering the possible ramifications of bringing an unknown person to his home, the sound of heavy footsteps rang out, and a handsome middle-aged man made his appearance.

His well-kept hair was mixed with several splotches of white. And standing next to him was a young man who looked similar to Rangoburt, although older.

"So you've returned."

"Yes, I have returned. Father, Elder Brother."

As Rangoburt bowed his head, the white-haired man – his father – immediately lost interest and looked elsewhere.

His elder brother nodded pompously.

"Who is that student?"

"Yes. He is one of my acquaintances."

Rangoburt's answer was clean and simple. An outside observer would notice that there was a distinct lack of familial love in their conversation. In fact, they were more like a boss and subordinate rather than father and son.

This was because he was merely the third son.

In noble society, children were but the means to continue the family line. The second and third son were simply substitutes for if something were to happen to the eldest son. So if there was a suitable heir, the third son was nothing but a burden.

If noble families had many children, when the inheritance was split, money, the backbone of the family's strength was similarly divided between them. There were several cases where entire families fell apart due to having too many children. Although, there were the exceptions who used their familial connections to better themselves and those who offered their children up for adoption.

But, his situation was different from most noble families as he had managed to gain a certain position in the house.

It was because he could use magic, and to a high level at that.

If he could achieve great results as a magic caster, his house would use him as a tool to become stronger. So instead of being chased out, his father was currently in the midst of searching for a good "buyer" who he could work for.

And that was why Rangoburt could flaunt his family's status in school and outside of it.

"Could you not have chosen a better one?"

Rangoburt's mind did not immediately understand what he meant, but after a quick analysis, he got it. If he recalled Momon's face, his father's words made sense. Additionally, Rangoburt saw his brother flash him a wry smile.

He should be apologising.

However, doing so in front of Momon would be a bad idea.

If he damaged Momon's impression of him, he might push for the dissolution of the team, which would be the worst outcome for him.

If he lost the qualifications to participate in the Promotional Examination, it would damage the most valuable and redeeming feature of himself: his potential achievements in the field of magic. If he were deemed to not have any merit for the house, it was entirely possible for him to be sent off to a strange place.

Of course, unlike the commoners he was fortunate enough to definitely not fall to become a slave, but everyone wanted to seek out as high a position as possible.

And if Momon was truly of a higher rank, that earlier sentence was risky.

Of course, there was no way that a student like Momon would have a similar rank to a highly-ranked noble like his father, but it was possible that Momon's father was even higher. However, Rangoburt had not heard about the heir of a high ranking noble who had the name Momon.

He must do his best to not upset Momon, especially with his unknown background.

However, he had no idea how to do it. He felt like he was trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea. But. Momon spoke.

"Sorry about that."

Rangoburt felt the blood freeze in his veins.

His father raised an eyebrow. He clearly did not think that Momon should speak to any noble in such a manner.

And before Rangoburt could even try to stop him, Momon continued.

"By the way, I have a question. Was the duration of the miracle too short for you?"

All of a sudden, his father was shocked still, as if he was struck by lightning. Rangoburt had no idea what meaning the question had, but it seemed his father was different.

He flapped his lips up and down, but no sound came out. And his eyes were forced open so wide that it seemed that they would roll out of their sockets.

It was an expression on his father that Rangoburt had never seen before in his entire life.

He took a sneak peak at his brother, but he was making the same face as he was, and did not understand either.

"So…. I would like to have a conversation, just the two of us. Do you have an empty room?"

"U, um. Ah, um, yes…. Yes, um, yes…. A waiting room. You two, there…. I will be having a meeting with this person. Don't let anyone interrupt us."

Momon's words pulled his father back to reality, who forced out a reply while his forehead glistened with sweat.

Seeing his father rush about in panic was unimaginable to Rangoburt.

He simply watched as his father guided Momon deeper into the residence.

He could not recall a single incident where his father himself had acted as a guide to any of his guests.

It was simply unheard of. If he were asked if his father had guided any noble around his residence, his answer was no. However, it seems that this mysterious Momon had a higher rank than his father, and so was an exception.

"Just who exactly is this Momon?"

Rangoburt only had one answer to his brother's question.

"….Who knows."

********************************************

The Academy Part 4

Translators: Frostfire10, BiaT_09

After work, Jet Testania's mana was mostly gone. Unlike physical exhaustion, this was a sensation of emptiness in his body, that something was about to leave his body. Surrounded by this feeling, Jet returned home.

However, his footsteps were light. On top of the solid weight of gold coins in his pocket, for ten whole days, nothing had happened in the Academy.

It was not as if there were absolutely no problems.

After accepting the Great Magic Caster as a teammate, none of the regular students would talk to him. Those that did were mostly of the noble class, and were trying to determine his worth as a card they could play, or as a political pawn.

Jet shivered. He trembled just from seeing a smidgen of the political war the nobles waged.

He knew that the adults were trying to grab any little advantage to climb up the social ladder. However, it was terrifying to see that they were using children to wage proxy wars.

He felt that he had seen a part of the Academy – a place he had thought was devoid of such influence – that he could never unsee.

However, to the current Jet, this was still acceptable.

Thanks to the powerful backer that was Fluder, Jet was in a better position than all of them. There was no one who could pressurise him both physically and psychologically. It would be foolish of him to get carried away by this, and considering the future when Fluder left, it was safer for him to not get close to anyone.

But, his only worry was the movements of the person who was far beyond him, the Archduke Ainz Ooal Gown.

Jet pressed his eyepatch.

Of course, if the person who was standing at the peak of nobility even moved his finger, Jet was powerless to stop him.

The only thing he could do was to try and raise his value as high as possible.

(I want to meet him, just once…. The Great Noble from the rumours.)

Of course, meeting him would do nothing to accomplish his goals.

Jet had heard snippets of the events of the parade from his classmates, and as he was recalling the praise they had for his clothes, his house came into view.

Arriving, Jet was about to knock on the door, but stopped. There were people inside. Of course, as he was living with his mother, it should not be devoid of any signs of people. Especially since she was sick and was unable to leave the house.

It was just that, the atmosphere beyond the door was brighter and warmer than normal.

There was a guest. Then who was it?

Muffled conversation made its way past the door. The voice was female.

He could guess who it was. After all, there was only one woman who would possibly come to his house. However, strangely enough, he only heard one voice throughout. It was as if she were speaking to herself.

Filled with suspicion, Jet knew his answers lay beyond the door.

"I'm back!"

Jet knocked on the door several times.

And with the sound of locks being undone, the door opened. In the harsh backlight, he saw the shadow of a girl standing before him. Her figure was significantly different from his mother's and so he knew his guess was on the mark. A warm and cheery voice made its way to his ear.

"Welcome back."

"Ah, I'm back. Nemel."

There was a room in the house, with a kitchen cum living room. Jet saw the door to his mother's room was left open, then his eyes met his mother's. Nemel was in the living room, chatting with his mother who was lying down. That was probably why it seemed that there was only one person talking.

"I'm back, Mum"

"Welcome home, Jet"

Jet saw his mother trying to get up and stopped her.

"It's fine, you don't have to get up"

"You sure? Let me catch some sleep then"

"Oh my, so sorry Auntie, I was so caught up in our conversation"

Hearing Nemel's apology, Mother got up gently and shook her head in a silent reply. Not at all, she seemed to be implying

"It's fine. My boy doesn't like to talk much about school, so our little chit-chat today has been really interesting. Now I know how he's like in school"

Jet frowned, wondering what they had been talking about while he was gone. However, he could only accept his sinking feelings, especially since his childhood friend had a tendency to beautify his actions. There was a possibility that her stories might spin him into a noble.

But Nemel shook her hands in a panic.

"I, I didn't tell her anything weird!"

Haa, Jet sighed. He could not do anything about what she said. She had been like this ever since they were young.

As Jet settled down onto a chair, Nemel brought him the stew dish that she had left in the kitchen.

"Jet, are you eating?"

"Ah, eh? You brought something?"

"It's a sizzling potato stew. Auntie had some earlier. This is your portion. It's been a while, so should I warm it up first?"

"Ohh! That sounds great. Can I have some?"

"Sure, I'll warm it up now!"

A bowl of stew was placed in front of Jet. Then Nemel cast a spell, causing the stew to warm up, and emit a mouth-watering fragrance.

It was a Zeroth Tier Spell, also known as Lifestyle Magic. It was a spell to warm up one bowl or plate of food. It used the same quantity of mana as a First Tier, so it was rarely used.

It could be easily replaced by a cheap magic item – such as an item that used a command word to heat up the bowl – but as Jet was unable to purchase such a thing, he found it useful. Firewood was expensive after all.

"Ooh, it smells great. Looks delicious."

"Yes, it is. We made it from the ingredients given to us from the noble house Panasis-onee-chan works at, and they were all of good quality.."

Jet scooped up the potato stew into his mouth. The chunks of potato broke apart in his mouth as he swallowed.

"Wow. I remember that he had mentally scarred her, but he seems to be quite high-ranking. What's his name? But more importantly I'm surprised she can come home so often. I remember that you mentioned this before…."

"Yes. I'm not sure about the details, but it seems to be a big house. And for every few days she works, she gets a break."

"Wow. That's something rare."

In between talking, Jet stuffed the stew into his stomach. And he used a piece of hard bread – that they already had in their house – to pick up the leftover splotches of stew.

It did not take long for the bowl to empty.

"Ah, it was good."

"Thank you."

"It's getting late, so I'll send you home."

"Thanks."

Because this was a conversation they had often, Nemel did not refuse.

If one split the safety of the Capital into four levels, Jet lived in the third section. They were rarely attacked when they walked around, but the knight patrol was superficial at best, and so it was not completely safe.

He could not let a girl go alone especially at this time of night.

Of course, as Nemel could use magic, she was not weak. It was a type of weapon after all. Just casting a spell was enough to kill a man. However, even if one had the skills necessary to use such spells, being able to cast them in the heat of the moment was another matter entirely.

(That's what the Promotional Exam is for.)

Leaving his mother to lock the door, Jet and Nemel walked into the dark Imperial Capital.

After reaching halfway, and entering a safe area, Jet asked.

"So what happened?"

Nemel seemed to be normal, but growing up with her had made Jet more sensitive to her emotions. He could clearly see that she was hesitant about something. Especially when she came to Jet's house which was in an unsafe area.

Nemel was always like this.

"Y, yes. Umm. I received an invitation to a ball."

"An invitation?"

Nemel was a noble. It was not strange for her to have received an invitation to a ball. He knew that she had attended several parties hosted by nobles of a similar rank as her family.

There was nothing strange about receiving an invitation.

But as if she could read Jet's mind, Nemel continued.

"The host is from a really high noble rank."

"Is he of the same faction, or is your father's boss, or have a similar type of relationship?"

Nemel shook her head, and Jet understood.

"Who sent the invitation?"

"—The Roberbad house."

It seemed that his worries about it being the Gown house was all for naught. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jet's mind began to think of countermeasures.

Thinking of the Roberbad house, there was only one possible planner of this. But why would that house invite Nemel?

There was one answer. It was because she was in the same team as Fluder.

(Did they want to use Nemel as a means to make a connection after they knew about what that guy was doing?)

He could not tell her to refuse. Such childish thinking would not pass in high society.

In that world, relationships between families were much more important compared to that of the commoners. More likely than not, the fate of Nemel's family would take a turn for the worst if she refused.

"….You're going right?"

"Yes," came her soft reply. "It will be rude to refuse. And father is all gung-ho about it."

Any father would be overjoyed to learn that his daughter had received an invitation to a ball.

And no matter what decision Nemel had reached, she wanted to hear Jet's opinion. She was scared. There was probably no special reason.

She was scared because she had received an invitation from someone that was so much more powerful than her.

"I see, I got it"

And without any further conversation, he sent Nemel home.

On his way back, Jet worked his mind into a frenzy.

There was no way that Nemel would face any danger at the ball. In fact, it would be the opposite. As she was a guest, it was likely that she would be treated well. Jet did not need to do anything. But—

—His worry for her refused to disappear.

And the reason Nemel was invited was partially attributed to him. The only possibility was that this was related to Fluder. Then it was his job to understand the other party's aims.

But, what could a mere commoner like himself do?

Thinking about the people who could help him, the name of the Student Council President, Frianne Wyliea Van Gushmond, floated to mind, but he did not want to ask this of her. It would not be good to ask her for anymore favours. He could be sucked into their political battles instead.

"What should I do…."

Jet's whisper disappeared into the dark night.

************************************************

After leaving the waiting room, his father had marched straight towards him. And then, he had grabbed both of his shoulders.

His face was flushed, his breathing erratic.

Momon, who had left after him, had his unchanged passive face.

(Did he anger him?)

Give me a break, Rangoburt screamed in his heart.

"Well done!"

"……..Huh?"

"I made a fool of myself", these words unconsciously slipped through his mind. Yet, his father, not bothered by that a single bit, gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Listen, make sure you diligently work for that esteemed man!"

"Huh, eh, ermm. Yes."

"Sacrifice your life for him if you ever need to! Understood!?"

Being stared at with bloodshot eyes, Rangoburt nodded his head. The unbelievable part was that this 'esteemed person' referred to Momon.

He stole a peek at Momon, who has been watching from the sides. No way his class is higher than mine! But father acknowledged him, so could he even be on par with father?

"Y, yes, I understand"

Satisfied with Rangoburt's reply, father left him and headed towards Momon. Gently rubbing his hands together, father presented Momon an offer.

"By the way, Momon-sama, how about spending a night over here? How does that sound?"

Sama. Rangoburt was dumbfounded. No, Momon isn't of the same rank as father, but is even higher!

While Rangoburt remained frozen in disbelief, the two of them continued their conversation.

"I think I will pass. I've got somewhere to be now, so I'll take my leave here"

"I see, that's a pity… But still, please let us send you off"

"….There is no need for that. I simply found his name familiar and thus came to meet you."

"Oooh! For you to remember me!"

"I look forward to seeing exactly who it is that will please me the most. To see who I will grant my blessing to."

His father's face was filled with joy. However, it turned hard and sharp as he turned to face Rangoburt.

"My son! Work hard for Momon-sama!"

Rather than replying with a normal yes, Rangoburt's forceful nodding caused his voice to crack and his reply to stretch out into a nasal yyyyeeshhhhhh.

"—You!"

Bathed in his father's fury, Rangoburt's body began to shake.

As a highly-ranked noble, his father's scoldings were far more intense and terrifying than a normal person's.

"How dare you show such a slovenly attitude to Momon-sama!"

Seeing his father burn with an intense fury that burned hotter than normal, Rangoburt froze in place. However, he was saved by a soft voice.

"—I have no intention of infringing on familial issues, but if it is for my sake, I hope that you forgive him. More importantly, he is my team mate you know?"

"My! My apologies!"

"I am not the one you should be apologising to."

His father gave Rangoburt a quick bow.

"Sorry."

Seeing that it was his father lowering his head towards him, his mouth could not open from the shock.

He simply vigorously nodded his head.

"So Rangoburt, shall we make our move?"

Rangoburt began to walk behind Momon.

Nothing about him seemed to change. He was as calm and normal as when he first arrived. However, Rangoburt sensed that there was something wriggling and squirming underneath his smile.

"….S, so, may I please ask what our plans will be after this?"

As Rangoburt timidly asked, the unchanged, normal face turned to look at him.

"As it will be impossible to take the exam with just the two of us, I would like to increase our numbers…. What do you think?"

"Y, yes. That is an excellent idea."

"So…. Do you have anyone in mind?"

Rangoburt considered all the possible candidates that would help the current him. There were none.

Shaking his head, Momon flashed a lonely smile.

"It's fine. That happens sometimes."

Momon faced forward again, and then softly, as if he were speaking to himself, voiced his idea.

"Let us buy slaves and add them to our team."

Rangoburt could not reply. It was completely off the rails. He was about to ask if there were worms in his brain before his mind flashed back to his father's outburst.

But—

(How can he say this so happily? Normally, this idea would be impossible….)

There were various conditions required to enter the Academy. Money, background, authority. How would slaves possibly clear them?

Regular people would not even consider enrolling new students in order to fulfill the number requirements. It was the idea of a madman—

(Or is he someone capable of doing this…. Is he someone that amazing?)

If so, then his father's reaction made sense.

(But, still. To buy slaves and use them as team members….)

"Now it seems that there are no objections. Then let us head to the slave market!"

Momon's voice was filled with a bright joy.

(….Why is he so happy? Is it because he's buying slaves? Or because we are going to the slave market? No…. Maybe if I give my opinion….)

Rangoburt shook his head. He had already accepted the idea, and so the thought of changing it was impossible. No, it was no longer a thought, but a mere wishful daydream.

While having the sinking feeling that he was being dragged into something far beyond himself, he tried to keep pace and stay behind Momon. He wanted to avoid standing next to him and starting a conversation.

※Maruyama: The Transfer Student Momon-san story and Jet-kun's story occur at different time periods. This is a short chapter, and I intend to reunite them at the party. I want to update once more in December. But I don't want to type it out on my phone while eating lunch in my workplace.

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