“Well, he does have a point…”
Momonga spoke out what was in his heart.
When he was with Sebas, he was reminded of his previous guild member, Touch Me-san. He was the one who designed Sebas after all.
But he didn’t have to design Sebas to look exactly like him, even his angry look was just as scary.
After silently complaining, Momonga once again looked at the mirror.
Momonga thought about teaching the technique of manipulating the mirror to Demiurge. This was in regards to what he told Demiurge previously, about an idea to improve the security network.
Although it would’ve been easier to give this responsibility to a subordinate, Momonga still felt like he should do this personally. Actually he had another motive, it was that he wanted his subordinates to see him hard at work and admire him. So he definitely cannot let boredom cause him to quit halfway. And the reason why wasn’t he looking at things from a higher angle… if only there was a manual — With a bitter expression, Momonga continued the boring task of experimenting with the mirror.
An unknown amount of time passed.
It could have been a short time, but if there were no results, one could only feel that time was being wasted.
With an empty expression, Momonga randomly gestured, suddenly the scene grew bigger.
“Oh!”
Surprise, joy, pride, with those emotions Momonga exclaimed. After a long time of making random hand gestures, finally the images changed according to his will. Like a group of programmers that had just finished eight hours of overtime, Momonga cheered.
In response to his cheers, sounds of applause could be heard. That sound obviously came from Sebas.
“Congratulations, Momonga-sama. Truly admirable!”
After going through much trial and error and finally getting a result, would not necessarily be worth such praise. Momonga was thinking in this way, but after seeing Sebas’s happy expression, he frankly accepted his praise.
“Thank you, Sebas, but for you to accompany for this long, I apologise.”
“What are you saying, to be at Momonga-sama’s side, to obey your orders, would be the meaning of a butler’s existence. There is no need to apologise… But, you have spent a lot of time doing this. Momonga-sama would you like to take a break?”
“No, there is no need. For someone undead like myself, there won’t be any feelings of fatigue. However if you are tired, it is alright if you go rest.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, but what kind of the servant rests while his master is hard at work. With the help of some items, I too will never feel physical fatigue, please allow me to stay by your side until you are finished.”
From that conversation, Momonga noticed one thing. It was that everyone would casually use game terms. Such as Special Skills, Classes, Items, Status, Damage, Negative Effects etc… With a serious face, they were saying game terms. Then from now on it would be easier to give instructions.
After Momonga approved of Sebas’s request, he returned to experimenting on methods to control the mirror. Finally finding a way to adjust the height of the view.
Showing a satisfied smile, Momonga began to look for places with people.
Finally the scene of a village appeared.
Located approximately ten kilometers from the Great Tomb of Nazarick, near a forest, surrounded by wheat fields was a country style village. At first glance, the village was not all that advanced.
Momonga expanded the view of the village, and felt like something was strange.
“…. Are they organising a festival?”
It was early in the morning and people were running in and out of houses, making everything feel very chaotic.
“No, this is no festival.”
Coming to his side, and looking into the mirror with his sharp eyes. Sebas gave a steely reply.
Sebas’s firm tone was full of disgust, after expanding the view, Momonga also frowned.
Knights wearing full suits of armor were raising their swords, chasing down villagers who wore nothing but rags.
This was a massacre.
With every strike, a villager would fall. The villagers did not seem to have any defense, they could only desperately escape. The knights continued to kill the fleeing villagers. In the fields you could see a horse eating the wheat, it probably belonged to one of the knights.
“Tch!”
Momonga made a sound, and wanted to immediately change the image. This village had no strategic value.
He might’ve tried to find a way to save the village if there was something to gain for him, but looking at the situation there was no reason at all to save the village.
There was no reason for him to save them.
After coming to that grim decision, Momonga began to doubt his own thoughts. There was a massacre right in front of his eyes, but all he could think about was what would be best for Nazarick. His heart already was missing the feelings of pity, anger or anxiety that a human should have.
It was like watching a television show about animals and insects preying on each other.
Was it possible that after becoming an undead, he no longer considered himself as a human?
No, how could that be.
Momonga desperately tried to find excuses in order to justify his own thinking.
He was not some righteous messenger.
Although he was at least level 100, just as he told Mare before, the world could have normal people who are also level 100. So one could not just head out into such an unknown world. The knights could have a reason to justify their actions. It could be sickness, crime or just a show of force, many different reasons came to Momonga’s mind. Not only that, repelling the knights would turn the country they represented into his enemy.
Momonga stretched out his bony hand and───scratched his skull, thinking. After turning into an undead who was immune to mental effects, did he really feel nothing after looking at such a scene? Definitely not.
Waving again, the mirror reflected the image of another corner of the village.
What appeared was the scene of two knights about to end the life of a struggling villager. The villager had his hands bound and was unable to budge. In front of his eyes, the villager was pierced. The sword went through the body and out the other side, it was a fatal blow. However it did not stop there. One, two, three times — as if they were venting their anger, they repeatedly hacked at the villagers.
Finally, the knight kicked at the villager, as blood pooled around his body.
───The villager locked eyes with Momonga. Perhaps this was just his imagination.
This was definitely just a coincidence.
Without anti-search magic, it was impossible to detect the mirror’s vision.
Blood flowed out from the villager’s mouth, as he desperately tried to speak. His eyes blurred, he did not know where he was looking, it was clear that he was dying, but he opened his mouth and spoke one line:
— Please save my daughter—
“What are your plans?”
Sebas seemed to have read the mood, and quietly asked.
There was only one answer. Momonga calmly answered:
“Nothing. There is no reason, value or benefit to saving them.