Ainz had originally thought that the useless consolation prizes from those lotteries would never have a chance to be used in his lifetime—until he found himself fighting a war against the Imperium of Man with no victory in sight.
By now, Ainz had searched the warehouses of his Great Tomb again and again. So long as something was even slightly useful, he spared no expense in taking it out to build an army.
One-use summoning tickets? Use them!
Low-level rapid-leveling experience books? Use them!
Low-tier weapon crafting templates? Use them!
Not only was Ainz exhausting his own reserves, but he had opened the warehouses of his guild members as well. Other than the most valuable items left in the Great Tomb, everything else was handed over to Albedo and the other Guardians.
At first, the Guardians had been reluctant to let Ainz spend so extravagantly, but his next words made them realize how narrow-minded they had been.
"If everyone dies, what use are these things?"
And now, Demiurge held tens of thousands of Revenge Orbs. These things could turn someone too weak to truss a chicken into a renowned, powerful warrior. The price was merely compressing their lifespan from decades or centuries down to a few short months.
Naturally, to ensure that every user of a Revenge Orb spent the remainder of their life opposing the Imperium of Man rather than indulging themselves during their final days, Ainz had specifically instructed Demiurge to choose those who bore irreconcilable hatred toward the Imperium of Man.
This little Ork was one of them, one among countless xenos and demi-humans driven to extinction by the Imperium of Man.
"I feel so strong... Even the chief of our tribe isn't as strong as me!" The little Ork clenched his fists. The surging power made