The village was silent.
Smoke curled from the charred remains of homes, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. The Death Knight stood motionless amidst the carnage, its grotesque armor splattered with the remains of the knights who had dared attack.
Ainz had covered himself as best he could—his skeletal frame hidden beneath a heavy black robe, his face obscured by a featureless white mask, his hands gloved in dark metal gauntlets. He didn't need to breathe, but the weight of the villagers' stares pressed against him like a physical force.
"Enough," he commanded, and the Death Knight froze mid-step, its crimson gaze locking onto him.
The surviving knights—those who had not been torn apart—stared at him in horror. One of them, his armor dented and his sword trembling in his grip, dared to speak. "W-Who are you?"
Ainz tilted his head slightly. "A warning." His voice was calm, but the sheer presence of it made the man flinch. "Go back to whoever sent you. Tell them this village is under my protection. If they return…"
He didn't need to finish. The corpses around them spoke for him. The knights didn't hesitate. They fled, stumbling over their own feet in their desperation to escape.
******
Later, as the villagers gathered to bury their dead, Ainz lingered at the edge of the graveyard. His fingers traced the smooth length of his Resurrection Wand beneath his robes, hidden from sight.
'I could bring them back.' The thought gnawed at him. But— 'No.'
A mage who could slaughter knights was one thing.A mage who could reverse death itself? That would draw attention. The wrong kind. The kind that would bring armies, inquisitions, gods-know-what else down upon this place.
His grip tightened around the wand. 'I can't risk it.'
His hollow gaze settled on Enri and Nemu, kneeling before two freshly dug graves. Enri's shoulders shook with silent sobs, while Nemu clung to her sister's sleeve, her tiny face streaked with tears.
'I'm sorry.' he thought, the words bitter even in his mind. 'You'll have to be satisfied with this.'
Had saved the living. But the dead...the dead has to stay dead.
Later that day, Gazef Stronoff, the Warrior-Captain of the Re-Estize Kingdom, arrived with his knights—only to find the village already saved and the attackers slaughtered. Ainz, still disguised, spoke with Gazef and was revealed that the attackers were not mere bandits but knights from the Slane Theocracy, sent to provoke a response from the kingdom by massacring innocents.
When the Theocracy launched a second assault, Ainz strategically held back, allowing Gazef and his knights to engage first—both to test their strength and to avoid revealing his full power. The battle was brutal; half of Gazef's knights fell before Ainz intervened. In a dramatic display, he teleported the remaining knights to safety, taking their place on the battlefield. With cold efficiency, Ainz annihilated the Theocracy's forces, with overwhelming power.
******
The next day, life in Carne Village had to go on. Fields wouldn't tend to themselves, and homes wouldn't rebuild on their own. Ainz, ever pragmatic, decided to help—in his own, unique way.
First, he sent the Death Knight into the forest to patrol—surprisingly, it hadn't vanished like summoned undead usually did in YGGDRASIL. That was… interesting. But useful.
Next, he turned the corpses of the fallen enemy knights into worker skeletons. Unlike living laborers, they didn't tire, didn't complain, and didn't need breaks. Perfect for manual labor.
At first, the villagers were understandably nervous. Watching skeletons haul lumber and till soil was not something they were used to. But when it became clear the undead were completely docile—only moving when ordered—they slowly relaxed.
"Well," muttered one farmer, scratching his head as a skeleton effortlessly lifted a fallen tree trunk, "can't say I'd ever thought I'd be grateful for the dead doin' my chores."
Ainz wasn't done.
He approached the village chief with another suggestion: a defensive wall.
The chief, still shaken from the attack, agreed immediately.
The skeletons got to work. Within days, a sturdy wooden palisade rose around Carne Village, taller and stronger than anything the villagers could have built on their own.
"It's not perfect," Ainz admitted, examining their work, "but it should hold against another small raid."
The villagers, once fearful of him, now looked at their mysterious benefactor with something new—gratitude.
******
The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls of the small kitchen. Ainz sat at the table, his skeletal fingers carefully turning the pages of a book—A Beginner's Guide to Re-Estize Common Script. His glowing crimson eyes scanned the text intently, his free hand occasionally jotting down notes with an ink-dipped quill.
The door creaked open, and Enri stepped inside, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Nemu finally fell back asleep," she sighed, padding over to the counter to pour herself a cup of herbal tea. "Nightmares again."
Ainz glanced up. "Children are resilient. She'll adjust."
Enri gave a small, tired smile. "Yeah. She's tougher than she looks." She leaned against the table, peering at his notes. "Still learning the language?"
Ainz tapped the quill against the parchment. "Your world's writing system is… needlessly convoluted."
Enri snorted. "Says the guy who casts magic by waving his hand and saying 'Grasp Heart' like it's nothing."
Ainz's eye flames flickered in amusement. "Fair."
She sipped her tea, watching him for a moment. "Why are you learning it, though? You could just… I dunno, magic it into your head or something."
Ainz set the quill down. "Where's the fun in that?"
Enri blinked—then burst out laughing. "You're weird, you know that?"
"Coming from the human who befriended an Overlord, that's rich."
She grinned, shaking her head. "Point taken."
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the rustling of pages and the occasional pop of the fire.
Finally, Enri yawned, stretching her arms. "I should probably get some sleep. You… uh, don't need to, right?"
Ainz tilted his skull. "No. But I do need quiet to concentrate. So if you're going to snore—"
"I don't snore!"
"That's not what Nemu told me."
Enri gasped in mock outrage, throwing a dish towel at him. It fluttered harmlessly through his ribcage and landed on the floor.
Ainz stared at it. "...That was pathetic."
"Shut up."
She stomped off toward her room, but not before Ainz caught the smile tugging at her lips.
He returned to his book, the ghost of a chuckle rattling in his chest.
'…This isn't so bad.'