🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter – 33
For hundreds of years, the Northern tribes and the barbarians had been at war for one reason only — magic stones.
Yes, magic stones — and nothing else.
Such was the importance of magic stones in this world that everyone coveted them.
And naturally, that meant others besides humans were after them as well.
Monsters, for instance.
Monsters instinctively hovered around areas rich in magic stones, and some high-ranking ones even had the habit of periodically consuming them.
And that wasn’t all.
Magicians, too, often came to Kuverin — a land overflowing with magic stones — to build their own laboratories or dungeons.
They would hole up there for years, sometimes decades, conducting their experiments.
Among those magicians who dwelled in Kuverin, the most numerous were none other than…
“Right. The black magicians’ paradise.”
It wasn’t the least bit strange that Kuverin had become heaven on earth for black magicians.
The land teemed with magic stones, monsters for experimentation, and—most conveniently—an ample supply of humans and corpses, both key materials in black magic.
From a black magician’s perspective, Kuverin was simply irresistible.
It was easy to find abandoned corpses and just as easy to abduct living people for live experiments.
Why?
Because if someone disappeared here, everyone just assumed they’d been “taken by something.”
No one bothered to look.
Even the nearby hidden dungeon, [Antiros’ Laboratory], existed for exactly that reason.
“What, did they send me here just to die?”
Carlile let out a dry laugh as he stared down at the map.
“You might as well have killed me outright, Father.”
He trembled with resentment toward his father, Grand Duke Guntram, who had sent him to this place — Bowden Fortress.
Bowden Fortress was a hellscape, crawling with danger on all sides.
Not only was the [Antiros Laboratory] nearby, but countless other deadly threats surrounded it.
“…Crowley’s dungeon is close too, isn’t it?”
Crowley — the infamous black magician.
His dungeon lay only about two kilometers from Bowden Fortress.
“And if I recall correctly… wasn’t this area supposed to fall completely into barbarian hands later?”
It was something Carlile hadn’t fully processed until now.
The region around Bowden Fortress was destined to be conquered by the barbarians.
At least, that was the case by the start of the game [Overlord].
Right now, though, they were about nine years and four months before that point, so he couldn’t say exactly when the conquest would happen.
“I really need to find a way to get out of here soon…”
Poke.
Something jabbed him in the back.
“…!”
Startled, Carlile turned to see ‘Squinty-Eyes’ Kudo smiling his usual smile.
It seemed Kudo’s finger was the culprit.
“You’re dead, Sir Carlile. Enemy ambush just got you.”
“Ah.”
“Which means our hardworking engineers here will die too, thanks to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Carlile quickly apologized.
He had no excuse — he’d been daydreaming while on guard duty.
“What was so fascinating you didn’t notice an enemy sneaking up behind you?”
“I was looking over the map, sir.”
“Studying the terrain?”
“Yes.”
“Good attitude.”
Kudo smiled softly.
“Sir Carlile, you’re quite different from what the rumors say. Studying the terrain ahead of time… admirable. But still, no distractions during watch duty.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, and by the way.”
“…?”
“That sword technique — what was it?”
“The sword technique?”
“The one you used when you cut the enemy clean in half.”
“Ah, that…”
Carlile hesitated, unsure how to answer.
It wasn’t the Sigmund family’s heirloom swordsmanship.
It was more like an ancient hero’s secret art.
“Ah, you can’t say? If it’s confidential, I understand—”
“No, it’s not that.”
Carlile shook his head.
“I just… happened to inherit an old ancestor’s sword style. Hard to explain, honestly.”
“A lost sword art, then?”
“Perhaps.”
“May I see it sometime?”
From the spark of curiosity gleaming between Kudo’s narrow eyelids, Carlile could tell — Kudo hadn’t come to scold him.
“Ah, of course, only if it’s no trouble.”
“I’ll show you.”
Truthfully, Carlile didn’t feel like it. But he decided to oblige Kudo.
After all, the quest [Noble Proof] required him to maintain good relationships with his comrades, not just fight well.
Being standoffish would only hurt him.
Besides, Kudo was a respected figure within the scout unit — winning his favor would only help.
“You really will?”
“It’s no big deal. Want me to show you right now?”
“Not now. Too many eyes watching, and you’re still on duty. I’ll arrange a time this afternoon.”
“Whatever’s convenient.”
“Oh, and — I don’t mind, but avoid Begman or Wilson. They’ll just use it as an excuse to chew you out.”
With that, Kudo winked his narrow eyes mischievously and disappeared.
Carlile stood there for a while afterward, watching the engineers at work.
Thunk! Clang!
They mined away with sweat-soaked faces, using tools coated with finely ground magic-stone powder, hauling the ore into carts over and over.
They were soldiers in name only — more like laborers in uniform.
“Anyway… how do I get out of this place fast?”
Carlile wanted nothing more than to flee Bowden Fortress.
He had a bad feeling about it — too many dangers lurked nearby.
Even the barbarians weren’t the real problem; they were just one of many looming threats.
Crowley alone was terrifying enough.
That same Crowley would one day become the nemesis of Carlile’s younger brother — one of Overlord’s main characters, Frey.
“I just want a quiet, long, uneventful life.”
Carlile had no interest in getting swept up in the kingdom’s future civil war.
He wasn’t the protagonist, after all.
“If I can just finish my mandatory service quietly and—”
At that moment—
“Ahhh!”
Thud!
A petite female engineer tripped right in front of him, falling hard.
She’d stumbled over a rock while carrying a sack full of magic stones.
“Are you all right?”
Carlile reached out a hand to help her up.
“Thank yo— kyaaah!”
The engineer screamed as if she’d seen a ghost.
“What the—?”
“What’s going on?”
The sudden commotion drew everyone’s attention.
“Why did you scream?”
“B-because… you’re too handsome!”
“…Excuse me?”
What the hell did she just say?
“I was startled because you’re so good-looking! S-sorry, oppa!”
“My rank’s lower than yours, actually.”
Carlile looked baffled.
The woman was a lower-ranked soldier, a step above his own rank as a recruit.
“S-sorry! I mean—my bad! It’s just—ugh, I can’t breathe properly… hee…”
“……”
Carlile could only stare, speechless.
He figured she was just flustered — but still…
“This army’s going to hell.”
Even if they were non-combat engineers, they were still soldiers.
And this was Kuverin — the land of blood and death.
How could someone act this carefree here?
“Get away from her right now!”
Someone suddenly shouted.
Carlile turned to see a group of angry engineers charging toward him, brandishing tools.
“You pervert! Get your hands off Gwen right now!”
“So that’s your true nature, huh?!”
“I’ll chop your damn thing off!”
They threatened him with pickaxes, hoes, and shovels.
“…Why is this happening again? Ugh.”
Carlile sighed and closed his eyes, exhausted.
Of course, he knew exactly why.
Carlile von Sigmund had a reputation — infamous for lewd behavior toward women.
So of course they assumed the worst.
He just happened to be innocent this time.
“I didn’t—”
He tried to explain, but no one would listen.
“What’s all this noise?”
Thankfully, Commander Helen appeared just in time — otherwise Carlile would’ve been minced meat.
“Commander Helen! That bastard was harassing Private Gwen in broad daylight—!”
“Is that true?”
Helen turned her cold gaze toward Carlile.
“N-no, Commander Helen!” Gwen hurriedly spoke up.
“Recruit Carlile was only helping me up after I fell! That’s all!”
“Then why did you scream?”
“Th-that’s because…”
Gwen hung her head low. Her ears turned bright red — her face probably matched.
“…Because Recruit Carlile was too handsome. I’m sorry.”
“……”
Everyone, Helen included, was struck dumb.
That was her explanation?
“Well… at least she’s a good person.”
Carlile sighed in relief.
If Gwen had lied, he’d have been done for — falsely accused, yet again.
Not that it would’ve surprised anyone. His reputation was already in the gutter.
“Recruit Carlile.”
“Yes, Commander Helen.”
“Follow me.”
And just like that, Carlile found himself summoned to the commander’s office.
“Is this… some kind of new punishment?”
Sitting in Helen’s office, Carlile felt like he was sitting on a bed of nails.
Helen said nothing — only stared at him coldly.
The silence was suffocating.
Finally, she spoke.
“Recruit Carlile.”
“Yes, Commander Helen.”
“From now on, I’d like you to stay away from your female comrades.”
“…Excuse me?”
Carlile frowned, confused.
It wasn’t as if he’d ever been close to any female soldiers.
“What? But I haven’t—”
“I know.”
Helen cut him off.
“I know you used to be a debauched scoundrel, indulging in all manner of filthy behavior.
But these days, you’ve been quiet — trying to adapt to military life.”
“Then why—”
“Because you, of all people, should know what you look like.”
“…What?”
Helen sighed deeply, closed her eyes, and said:
“You’re… too handsome, Carlile.”
“…What?”
Carlile’s face twisted in sheer disbelief.
