A Theory on Godhood: An Overlord Story

Chapter 13: The Sword Logic

Grasmere Village, Two months before Ainz Ooal Gown

There was screaming that echoed throughout the entire village. Shrill and vocal-cord-tearing in its intensity and pitch. Under normal circumstances, it would activate anyone's fight-or-flight response without a second thought.

When it came to Brain Unglaus and the Death Spreading Brigade, there was no "flight" to be had, only fight.

The village they were attacking, Grasmere, was noted as being a flourishing and profitable lumber town, which in-turn worked with another profitable lumber town that was closer to the Forest of Tob.

Much of their money was tied into the valuable equipment the village-folk purchased to continue their hard work, but there were rumors of them hiding a great treasure somewhere in the village, which their mysterious employer sought to have for themselves.

Where it could be was uncertain, so the commissioned group of mercenaries were instructed to raze the place to the ground and search every last centimeter of dirt until they found what they were looking for.

As expected, it was a massacre all around. The main population was mostly farmers and lumberjacks with their families, with very few actual defenders to protect them. Grasmere may have been profitable, but it was nowhere close to some of the dedicated lumber mills that the Re-Estize kingdom employed, which meant they had no official protection from the king.

The blue-haired man watched with a bored expression as his associates tore through the pitiful workers with axes that called themselves "warriors". He was standing in an open road, quietly observing the chaos that was happening around him.

Women and children fled as quickly as they could, hiding in-between houses while the men did their best to fend off the bloodthirsty mercenaries. Those who dared to stand and fight were swiftly cut down, their blood splattering the walls of their former homes.

It was almost kind of sad, watching how easily the villagers were killed. If Brain were not on his journey to become the ultimate swordsman, he might've felt regret at the lives his group were taking.

Unfortunately, he couldn't afford such a luxury as regret.

A war cry off to his right grew louder, causing him to lazily glance over and see an older man rushing him, or trying to at least. A short sword was raised above his head, preparing an over-head strike to try and cleave Brain's skull in two, as if he were some common bandit to be fought on the battlefield.

Watching the man hobble up to him, Brain noted that he was approaching an advanced age, as evidenced by his weak gait. His grip was shaky and entirely too tight, making for a poor stance. The combination of fear and absolute rage on that man's face meant he was not in the right state of mind to be fighting, especially against someone like the blue-haired swordsman.

He huffed, merely backing up and sticking out a foot for the man to trip over, who did just that. The man squealed like a stuck pig when he inevitably fell on his own sword, and then his cries slowed to choked gurgles.

"Just like I thought, not worth my time anyhow. How much longer until the rest of these fools are finished?"

The clash of blades and uproarious laughter reminded him of his time fighting in the tournament that held the prize of becoming Re-Estize's Chief Warrior, an honor that would place him at the side of the king himself.

He recalled how easily he defeated every other swordsman present at that tournament, a majority of them pompous nobles born into money and believing themselves superior to him in every way.

The record was quickly set straight, as a lowly farmer's child was able to stand among the best of them and absolutely destroy their sense of self-worth. Back then, his ego had rampaged out of control, and Brain truly believed that he was unrivaled by anyone with the sword.