Chapter 120

Minutes later, Ainz and Demiurge found themselves staring at a rather fat looking young dragon. 'Frost dragon, judging by the pale blue coloration, and I suppose they have that extra fat to cope with the weather.'

Ainz reached out and touched the unconscious creature at the shoulder, though obviously very young it was still several times more massive than Ainz himself. With a large head that reminded him vaguely of a doberman, with a bony crest, broad thick shoulders and though its body seemed squat at a glance, it did have a fairly lengthy tail.

The creature was also injured. A cracked jaw at the very least.

Around them lay a city that seemed entirely empty of life, and was definitely not intended for dragons.

The buildings were uniformly carved out of solid stone, lighter granite and darker stone that might have been obsidian. Most noteworthy was that the buildings themselves, including the roads, were all carved out of the mountain itself and into a tiered structure that rose up like a pyramid. "What do you make of this city, Demiurge?" Ainz asked of the genius.

Demiurge looked it over with his tail lashing at his back. "It isn't Nazarick… but, My Lord, the dwarves must be excellent craftsmen. They clearly put abundant thought into the organization and management of this place, the construction maximizes living space for the population without needing to take up a great deal of open ground, and they use the open spaces above ground level very effectively. For a lesser race, they use what they have quite well."

It was high praise from the archdevil, and yet Ainz had to correct one thing. "Demiurge, I remind you that we are here with peaceful intentions, so behave with respect to our hosts, even if you must act the part. Conceal your contempt and don't say such things in front of them. Willing obedience is always better than forced obedience."

Demiurge stiffened, his tail froze as if caught in ice, "Of course, My Lord, I understand." The archdevil kept his face serene, and yet as his master's plan unfolded in his own mind… 'Of course… How foolish of me! How could I not see that this was his plan all along! I can't fail him! I 'must' show I understand!'

He gave a half bow with a hand over his heart, "Of course, My Lord, I comprehend a fragment of your master plan now, how foolish of me to not realize that was your grand design."

My grand design?! What is he talking about?' Ainz asked himself in a panic that forced him to put his back to Demiurge and pretended to look over the unconscious dragon youth.

He recovered quickly, "You understand it then… the plan?" Ainz asked vaguely as he could.

"Yes, a fragment only, but still, that inch in your endless ocean of knowledge, I now understand." Demiurge replied with a proud smile spread over his slender face.

"Good… then…" Ainz scanned the area and pointed to an open door, "In there, I presume the young one came out of that room, drag him back inside, we'll converse with him then."

"At once, My Lord." Demiurge replied and as Ainz headed toward the double door, Demiurge grabbed the unconscious dragon's tail and dragged him inside.

The sound of claws scraping along the floor was the only noise other than their footsteps for several seconds as they entered the room. Demiurge yanked the dragon forward, sending the bloated body of the monster sliding steadily forward until he came to a stop at a wooden wall full of books where he hit with a relatively soft 'thud', meanwhile Ainz shut the door behind them both.

The unconscious body remained a crumpled heap while Ainz walked over to it, with the thick stone doors closed behind them there was little risk of being overheard. But still, desiring some certainty of privacy he removed a scroll of silence from his inventory and used it. The third tier scroll was barely worth anything, but still he felt the pang of parting with the magic item as the blue flames consumed it to activate the spell.

"How soon before your farm goes into production, Demiurge?" Ainz asked, and Demiurge had a toothy smile to flash his way.

"As soon as I return. There wasn't much of a criminal element left in E-Rantel, but there were some in prisons in the Kingdom which we can easily acquire for labor and production purposes." The archdevil said with pride.

"Good, I don't want our scroll supply to be threatened." Ainz replied while he removed a healing scroll from his pocket dimension.

"Of course, My Lord. I will redouble my efforts when we return." Demiurge promised. His tail lashing swiftly like an angry cat's at his back. 'Is he unhappy with our pace… was that a warning that he might leave us?!' It was so difficult to get a handle on the mind of the last Supreme Being, but at least there was no cold sweat for now to give away his fears.

"See that you do. I have faith in your abilities, Demiurge." Ainz said, and at his back, Demiurge's heart soared.

Ainz however, could not see that. He stood over the injured dragon, extending one hand over the head, he activated the scroll. It opened, caught fire, and blue flames licked at his gloved hand. It roared without a sound and burned without heat until the scroll was no more. Instead, a gentle whitish blue light engulfed the creature and pulsed like a bioluminous bug for several seconds.

Under Ainz' own eyes, the jaw began to knit back together where it was damaged and the crimson blood that stained the surface of its ice blue scales began to disappear. While the jaw hung somewhat open, it was clear a tooth had broken, shattered into a jagged ruin far different than the curved, knife-like teeth in the rest of his jaw.

That injury too, despite being somewhat older, healed as well.

'I wonder how often the big one hits the little one… probably a fair bit. Now that the spell fades…' Ainz watched the less than obvious take place, other darker scales began to lighten as the spell's effects started to fade away. Thus, he suspected something unpleasant. 'Those were bruises, bruises that ran rather deep. Didn't they indicate that they were parent and child before?' Ainz asked himself, recalling the conversation. That did definitely seem to be the case.

A distinct dislike for the elder dragon settled into his guts. He tried to imagine himself acting that way… to imagine raising a hand to hurt his Shalltear, or his Albedo, or his Aura, or Mare, or Demiurge, or the other children of his friends. The very thought of inflicting injuries on them, it was rotten in his gut. Rot, bile and sick disgust at the very idea.

Thus imagined, a swelling of pity for the youngling at his feet rose up. "Should I wake him, My Lord?" Demiurge asked when the spell faded to nothing.

Ainz thought it over. "No… no, let him rest for now, when he wakes up we will have many questions and many things for him to do. But for now he may rest peacefully."

"As my merciful Lord commands." Demiurge said placidly.

And, in silence,they waited.