Chapter 35

Lambert, having defeated the secret unit "Night's Dagger" of the Obock family, turned his gaze to the last remaining member, a woman.

"Woman, I want you to spill everything you know about the count."

The woman, trembling from fear, looked at Lambert with a gaze that revealed more terror than anger. She had not expected the battle to be so one-sided, even with the odds in her favor.

Lambert, however, had been through worse. During the War of the Eight Nations' Unification, he had been ensnared in a trap set by an enemy strategist and surrounded by twenty times his own number of enemy soldiers. He was a renowned general under Aldemia, a top candidate for leading the War of the Eight Nations' Unification, in the kingdom of Maderak. Lambert had cut his way through the enemy, creating a path to escape, but he knew that without his mithril armor, he would never have been able to stand on the battlefield again.

In the end, Lambert survived almost unscathed, but none of his subordinates who followed the path he had cut managed to survive.

Compared to that, the number and quality of the enemies now were far inferior. Being surrounded by just five subordinates of a corrupt noble in these peaceful times was nothing to him.

"…No matter what you try to get out of me, it will be in vain. Neither you, who have crossed us, nor I, who have failed my mission, will be safe. No matter where we run, we cannot escape the eyes of Lord Obock."

As the woman said, Lord Obock showed a terrifying level of determination when it came to his own interests, safety, and revenge on his enemies.

The woman did not have much loyalty or pride in the "Night's Dagger" or towards Lord Obock. She had been taken from an orphanage and raised as a secret agent, but her resentment far outweighed any sense of gratitude. Still, she served Lord Obock out of fear, knowing that if she betrayed him, something worse than death awaited her. As a woman, she knew all too well the kinds of humiliation she might face.

She had to commit suicide before being captured by other subordinates of Lord Obock. However, her resolve to die had waned after being thwarted by Lambert.

She knew Lambert's sword skills well. Perhaps if she helped him escape, she could take advantage of the situation and escape as well. Despite knowing it was a foolish thought, it began to dominate her mind.

"What do you want to know? Well… there's no need to confirm his misdeeds any further. First, I want you to guide me to Lord Obock's manor. We can discuss the details on the way."

"…Huh?"

The woman did not understand what Lambert meant. She had been thinking about how to escape from Lord Obock's grasp, but she never expected Lambert to want to go to the count's manor himself.

Moreover, from Lambert's words, it seemed he did not even know where the manor was. It was an incredibly reckless and unplanned move. The location of the manor was known by the majority of the residents of the city of Ainzas. Going there to be captured and executed as an example was literally a death sentence.

"Woman, calling you 'woman' is troublesome. Besides, we don't have time. If you're willing to answer my questions, state your name."

"…I said from the beginning that I wouldn't flatter my enemy. You're talking so arrogantly, but I've been trained to resist torture…"

The woman answered, trying her best to glare at Lambert.

"Is that so?"

Lambert began to emit the miasma of the undead. The dense aura of death filled the small office. Sweat seeped from the depths of the woman's body, and her mind was overwhelmed by terror.

Driven by fear, she raised her head to see the fully armored man raising his greatsword, its sheath included.

"A… a…"

The woman's mouth opened and closed as she stared at the raised sheath. Before she could think further, the sheath was brought down.

A powerful wind pressure toyed with her head, and immediately after, a metal mass crushed her head. But it was an illusion; in reality, the sheath had been brought down just beside her head, stopping before it touched her shoulder.

The woman, breathing heavily, saw the greatsword resting on her shoulder. She had indeed faced death just moments ago. Her heart raced from fear and the oppressive feeling, and she could not stop feeling nauseous.

"We don't have time. The next one will hit."

"A… Almer. Almer… Almeis… is my name…"

The woman, half unconsciously, revealed her real name. She did not have the presence of mind to regret it. She only felt a sense of relief as the greatsword moved away from her.