05

“W-What did you figure out?”

Gaus could hear his own voice trembling.

“This is my old memo. It’s a collection of notes where I wrote down spells that I thought would be useful for Silica and the villagers’ daily lives.”

Ains continued as he flipped through the pages.

“You see, there was a time when I just handed these notes to Silica. She told me to have them bound into a book, but I said it was a hassle and told her to do it herself. She probably gave it some grandiose name and compiled it into a book because of that.”

Sophia immediately sprang back from the sofa.

She couldn’t process even half of what Ains had said. He opened the pages naturally, read the contents naturally, and declared them to be his own notes—and before that sight, her body reacted on instinct alone.

Gaus was the same. But in his case, shock robbed him of movement. A single tear ran down from his eye.

There were precious few surviving records, and until now there hadn’t even been a clue connecting to Ains. The man before him was named Ains, not Ainz. And yet, he spoke of the Original and of Saint Silica with intimate familiarity.

Gaus felt history itself shifting.

“See? My name’s written right here.”

Ains showed the open page to Gaus.

A searing pain, like a violent poison, surged through Gaus’s optic nerves and raced through his brain. Cold sweat poured from him. And yet, he felt pleasure—so much so that the pain itself became intoxicating.

“Ains = Silvertas.”

Even as agony wracked him, Gaus forced himself to read the letters Ains indicated.

“…Ainz Silvertas.”

Yes. Ainz Silvertas—the figure at the root of the Autonomous City of the Ains Domain. “Silver” meant silver in color, and “tas” was an ancient local dialect meaning snow. From these meanings arose the legendary sorcerer known as Ains of Silver Snow. And thus, the Silver Snow Knights had been founded.

“That’s not it, not it.”

Ains denied it with a laugh.

“Silica made the same pronunciation mistake too. It’s pronounced Ains Silvetas. ‘Silve’ comes from Silve Village, where I was born, and ‘tas’ comes from Tas Village. That’s why it’s pronounced Silvetas.”

Ains concluded.

“…And why is Sophia kneeling on one knee on the floor, bawling her eyes out?!”

Ains stared in shock at Sophia, who had somehow dropped to one knee and bowed her head deeply.

(This person really is emotionally unstable… and dangerous.)

“Lord Ains! I humbly beg of you!”

Sophia spoke without raising her head.

“I dedicate my body and my sword to you! I will serve you with my very life!”

“E-Eeh?!”

Ains was overwhelmed by the sudden, desperate intensity coming from Sophia.

“No, that’s really not necessary… and honestly, it’s kind of scary.”

“Please!”

Ains looked to Gaus for help.

But Gaus was no better off. He was shaken himself. Still, seeing his subordinate so completely unhinged allowed him to regain a measure of composure.

“…Sophia, calm yourself. I don’t know if I can truly claim to be calm either, but for now, calm down. You’re troubling Lord Ains.”

Sophia gasped, lifted her face, saw Ains’s visibly recoiling expression, and hastily wiped away her tears.

“Don’t call me ‘Lord,’ Commander Gaus. I’m just a normal person.”

“No, that is… difficult to say…”

Gaus found himself at a loss for how to explain matters to the sorcerer once revered as the Demon God Ains of Silver Snow, standing right before him.

“Oh, right. I noticed something while I was reading—this part of the memo here was wrong, so I corrected it.”

Saying so, Ains took a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket, made a correction, and handed the Original back to Gaus.

“Th-Thank you… very much.”

“No, no. This belongs to you in the first place, doesn’t it? I was the one borrowing it. There’s no need to thank me.”

As he held it, Gaus was stunned.

Adding annotations to the grimoire Original was something only its author could do. And Ains had done it casually, right before his eyes.

‘The mana is even denser now… I might not even be able to open it anymore.’

“Why did you come here today, Lord Ains?”

Gaus asked, holding the Original carefully in both hands.

“Drop the ‘Lord’… well, whatever. I was holed up in my forest hut, researching sorcery.”

Scratching his head, Ains continued,

“But nothing felt new anymore, and I hit a wall. I figured I’d take a break and see how the town was doing after all this time.”

“I-I see. Even Lord Ains can reach an impasse.”

“Well, I’m only this level of a sorcerer, after all. I only started confidently calling myself a sorcerer recently. Getting stuck happens all the time.”

“But anyway.”

Ains went on.

“It looks like Evan and Silica aren’t around, so I’ll leave my greetings for another time. I’m thinking of setting out on a journey, so I’d appreciate it if you could let Silica know later.”

“Well, that is to say…”

From the way Ains spoke, Gaus was now certain that the Evan and Silica he referred to were the Saints Evan and Silica of Ains Domain lore.

And yet, nearly two thousand years had passed since their deaths.

Judging by Ains’s demeanor, he likely hadn’t realized he had spent nearly two millennia secluded in the forest. Which meant he probably didn’t know that Evan and Silica were long gone.

‘This will break his heart…’

How should he tell him…?

Gaus agonized, and decided that for now, it would be best to let Ains enjoy his change of pace—and tell him the truth once he had settled down.