Chapter 12: A Fading Haven

The Town That No Longer Needed Him

The night sky stretched endlessly above as Ainz walked through the ruined streets of the town. Faint embers still glowed from the remains of buildings that had been destroyed in the dungeon outbreak. The once-lively marketplace was now eerily silent, and the air carried the stench of blood and burnt wood.

People were out, gathering what remained of their homes, repairing broken walls, and mourning those they had lost. Despite saving them, Ainz could feel their eyes on him.

Not with gratitude.

But with fear.

At first, it had been subtle—just whispers behind his back, curious glances filled with hesitation.

"He's too strong."

"Did he really fight alone?"

"How did he survive when so many others died?"

The rumors spread fast.

No one accused him outright, but the air was thick with distrust. The stronger he was, the more dangerous he seemed.

Ainz sighed, pulling his hood lower as he walked past a group of adventurers near the town's central plaza.

They went silent when they saw him.

"…What?" he muttered, stopping in his tracks.

One of them, a burly man in a dented chestplate, stepped forward. "Nothing personal," he said, voice even. "But if you're that powerful, why didn't you step in sooner? If you had, we wouldn't have lost so many people."

Ainz's fingers clenched at his side.

"I wasn't in town when the outbreak started," he replied coldly. "I arrived when I did. If I could've prevented this, I would have."

The man scoffed, crossing his arms. "Convenient."

Ainz narrowed his eyes. He had no obligation to explain himself.

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

He had seen it before—fear turning into resentment.

He didn't need to wait for the town to cast him out.

He would leave on his own.

Leaving It All Behind

By morning, Ainz had packed his belongings—just the essentials.

His alchemy tools.

His potions.

His weapons.

And a map of the continent he had purchased some time ago.

He stood in his small rented house one last time, looking around. It had only been a short stay, but it had been peaceful.

Now, that peace was gone.

He swung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out onto the streets, heading toward the town gates.

Just as he reached the entrance, he heard hurried footsteps behind him.

"Ainz!"

He turned, and there stood Rin—one of the few people he had shared drinks with at the tavern.

Her breath was heavy, her hair disheveled as if she had run straight here.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked, voice shaking.

Ainz nodded. "...Yeah."

Rin bit her lip, looking down. "Because of the rumors?"

"Partly," Ainz admitted. "But more than that... I need to find out who caused the dungeon outbreak."

Rin's hands clenched into fists. "This town is full of idiots," she muttered. "You saved them. And they repay you with this?"

Ainz smiled faintly. "It's human nature to fear what they don't understand."

Rin hesitated, then took a step closer. "...Will you come back?"

Ainz looked at the town one last time. The cracked walls, the broken streets, the eyes full of suspicion.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

Rin swallowed hard, then forced a smile. "Then... at least don't die out there, okay?"

Ainz smirked. "Not planning to."

And with that, he walked forward—leaving behind the only place he had ever called home in this world.

A Journey for Answers

The road stretched ahead of him, leading into the unknown.

Ainz traveled from town to town, keeping a low profile.

He gathered information, listening in on adventurers' conversations, talking to merchants who dealt in dungeon-related goods, and studying guild reports.

And everywhere he went, the pattern became clearer.

It wasn't just this town's dungeon that had changed.

Other dungeons had also been acting strangely.

Some had monsters far beyond their usual levels.

Others had collapsed entirely, leaving nothing behind but a crater.

A few were sealed shut, even though they had always remained open in the past.

The balance of the world was shifting.

And one name kept coming up.

"The Phantom Order."

A mysterious group, whispered about only in rumors and conspiracies.

Some said they were a cult that worshiped an unknown deity.

Others believed they were rogue scholars, experimenting with dungeons.

A few even suggested they were former heroes, manipulating the system from the shadows.

But one thing was clear—wherever a dungeon disaster happened, their name followed.

Ainz's eyes darkened as he sat in a quiet tavern, rolling a silver coin between his fingers.

"If they're behind this... then I need to find them."

His journey had taken a new turn.

He wasn't just searching for safety anymore.

He was hunting the truth.

And in the process—

He would uncover something that would shake the very foundation of this world.