Letting Them Die

In the end, under Sebas's sharp, raptor-like gaze, Momonga finally figured out how to use the Mirror of Remote Viewing.

He let out a long sigh of relief. The feeling reminded him of his few years as a student, when a teacher watched him do his homework from behind, making him feel as though thorns were pricking his back.

He never thought he'd experience that feeling again after so many years, especially now that he had become an undead.

"Clap, clap, clap."

Sebas applauded, then offered his congratulations with a serious, earnest expression. "Congratulations, Lord Momonga."

"Thanks, Sebas." Momonga glanced over at him, then added, "Sorry to make you stay with me."

"What are you saying? It is my purpose as a butler to remain by the Supreme One's side and follow his orders at all times. There is no need to apologize," Sebas replied.

Momonga hadn't actually asked Sebas to stay with him, but he apologized anyway. On the surface, it really did look as though he'd asked Sebas to be there. He simply couldn't refuse, and worried that doing so might upset Sebas, leaving him with no choice but to go along with it.

So, no matter what he was thinking inside, he had to keep up appearances. He needed to show the authority of Nazarick's supreme ruler without being so harsh on his subordinates that they grew resentful.

This conflicted mindset also showed how little confidence Momonga had. After all, he'd once been an insignificant nobody at the very bottom of the ladder. It would have been strange if he'd suddenly gained great power and felt confident.

Now that he knew how to use the Mirror of Remote Viewing, Momonga moved the scene with a wave of his hand. It felt just like operating a touchscreen device in his old world.

He kept changing the scenery in the mirror, hoping to find people—or, no, they didn't have to be human. Any intelligent beings would do, though humans would be best.

But Momonga suddenly felt the atmosphere growing strange again. Even though he'd figured out how to operate the item, Sebas was still watching him intently from behind.

He knew Sebas wasn't keeping an eye on him to make sure he finished quickly, but his years of work experience made him feel that way anyway.

Momonga stole a glance at Sebas.

"Is something the matter, Lord Momonga? Is there anything you need?" A smile appeared on Sebas's meticulous face. He'd picked up on even the slightest change in Momonga's expression. That was the sort of quality a capable butler should have.

"No, nothing, Sebas."

Momonga spoke evenly, though he couldn't stop grumbling to himself. But no amount of complaining would change the situation, so he focused once more on searching for intelligent beings.

"Oh!"

A note of surprise and delight escaped him. At last, he saw what looked like a village in the mirror. His exclamation wasn't just because he'd found signs of intelligent life. It also meant he'd finally finished his task under Sebas's meticulous "supervision," and could relax a little.

"Congratulations, Lord Momonga. I'm truly impressed," Sebas said sincerely.

But Sebas's praise made Momonga uncomfortable. He nearly got goosebumps, if he'd still had any.

No matter how hard he'd worked in the past, he'd never received any praise. Now he'd done such a small thing and was being complimented for it. It made him feel almost allergic to the praise.

But the urgent thing now was to examine the village he'd just discovered. From what Momonga could tell, it was about ten kilometers southwest of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. It was near a forest, with wheat fields surrounding it.

"Hmm. The level of civilization probably isn't very high."

Momonga reached this conclusion because he saw no power lines or other modern conveniences. Even in the countryside, he probably would have spotted some sign of them if they existed in this world. Still, he'd keep that judgment tentative. Perhaps this area was simply very backward.

He continued operating the mirror, shifting the view. After watching for a while, he began to feel that something was strange.

"...Is this village holding a festival?"

Momonga saw people constantly rushing in and out of the houses. They seemed to be in a panic.

"No, this isn't a festival," Sebas suddenly interjected, his tone certain. His sharp gaze fixed on the image in the mirror, and there was a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Hmm?"

Momonga enlarged the image in the mirror. Sure enough, he could now see what the people had looked like when they were no bigger than grains of rice on the screen.

Soldiers clad in metal armor were hacking at crudely dressed villagers with their swords. The people rushing in and out weren't celebrating; the soldiers were searching the houses one by one.

Every time a soldier swung his sword, a villager fell. The villagers were utterly helpless and could only flee in every direction. Some soldiers were on horseback, chasing down the faster villagers and cutting off their heads.

There was no doubt about it. It was a massacre—one-sided slaughter.

"Tsk!"

Momonga clicked his tongue. He'd hoped to learn more by observing the village, but it seemed the place was no longer of any use to him.

If he went to help, he would inevitably clash with those soldiers. The situation in this world was still unclear, and antagonizing one of its powers without good reason would do Nazarick no good.

The soldiers didn't look like the sort who would be easy to reason with, either. They might even kill him to silence a witness to the massacre.

Whether he saved the villagers or tried to talk to the soldiers, neither option would benefit Nazarick in any way.

So the right choice was to let them die.

Momonga felt somewhat uneasy about making such a coldhearted decision. He knew the massacre before his eyes was evil, but he believed that, given Nazarick's interests, his choice was understandable.

In the harsh environment of his old world, he'd been unmoved even by the sight of the bodies of homeless children lying by the roadside. Perhaps it was that coldness that let him calmly decide to leave the villagers to their fate. Or perhaps his undead body had taken away the emotions he should have felt as a human.

Though his old human sense of morality left him uneasy, Momonga thought that at least this way, he wouldn't let his emotions drive him to do anything that harmed Nazarick's interests.

Besides, it was like the law of the jungle in the animal kingdom. The weak had no grounds to complain when they were eaten. And he was an outsider, to begin with.

Besides, he was an undead now. The villagers being slaughtered were obviously human. Was he really supposed to help people of another race?

That would be as ridiculous as a lion helping an injured gazelle.

Momonga desperately searched for excuses, trying to justify his decision to let them die and ease his unease.