The Kingdom of Re-Estize.
The royal capital.
Clearly the heart of the nation—but apart from the central boulevard, the streets were gray and worn. The stone tiles underfoot were marred by cracks and signs of corrosion.
Most of the surrounding buildings were low, single- or two-story homes, built in an old European style, weathered by time.
But the closer one got to the royal district at the city's core, the more polished and orderly everything became. The buildings were cleaner. The streets smoother.
The air was surprisingly fresh.
But the world around him—its feel, its noise, its smell—told Minori plainly that this was not Earth.
It was another world.
Ding ding ding—
Dang dang—
The rhythmic clatter of metal rang out as adventurers passed by, their weapons brushing against their armor.
On either side of the street, shopkeepers hawked their wares. Colorful signs caught glints of sunlight, flashing intermittently.
The chaotic liveliness of the street buzzed like static.
Even the luxurious carriages that struggled to push through the crowd never stopped moving. Civilians instinctively stepped aside to let them pass.
Armored adventurers, robed magic casters, and travelers in brightly colored or bizarre attire—it was a lively mosaic of diversity.
In short, it was a scene teeming with life.
And yet, in stark contrast—
Minori walked alone through the crowd, dressed in a cheap long-sleeved tunic and dull gray trousers, completely inconspicuous.
His mood matched his clothes: drab, muted, and tense.
Fear lingered beneath his calm facade. A deep, gnawing anxiety.
All this excitement? It wasn't his.
He had only arrived in this world yesterday, and though still disoriented, he'd already pieced together the key facts.
This was the world of Overlord.
Or more precisely, a world where the Great Tomb of Nazarick had yet to descend.
The realization made his blood run cold.
If he had been transported into the YGGDRASIL game world itself—one with all the systems, classes, and character builds intact—he wouldn't be nearly as terrified.
He could've played the game, grinded levels, maybe even joined Ainz Ooal Gown.
But this wasn't the game.
This was a world. A real, breathing, dangerous world.
And he was just an ordinary person.
The only thing that gave Minori a sliver of comfort was this:
There were still more than four years before Nazarick would arrive.
How did he know that?
Because of the Warrior Tournament—the imperial challenge before the Emperor.
Gazef Stronoff, future strongest warrior of the kingdom, had won that very tournament and would soon receive the title of Warrior Captain.
Today was the climax of that event.
The duel between Gazef and the infamous "Nail Clipper," Brain Unglaus.
That match drew nearly the entire kingdom's attention—adventurers, merchants, civilians alike. That was why the streets were packed and buzzing.
Thanks to years of reading light novels and watching anime, Minori had enough narrative sense to keep calm.
Piecing together the names—Gazef, Brain, the Imperial Trial—he had managed to deduce where, and more importantly, when he had arrived.
"Four years before the New Calendar," he thought to himself.
Of course, that wasn't an in-universe calendar—it was a term he had derived from discussions among Overlord fans online.
Because once Nazarick descended, that moment became Year Zero of the Sorcerous Kingdom's rise.
Given what he knew about the story, it made sense.
As for the local language? Surprisingly, he could understand everything people said.
There seemed to be some kind of world law at play—some omnipresent magic or divine rule enabling universal translation, even across species.
To quote Ainz Ooal Gown himself: "It's like everyone ate translation konjac."
Of course, understanding spoken words was one thing—reading them was a different story entirely.
The coarse texture of his borrowed clothes rubbed awkwardly against his skin, a constant reminder of how far from home he truly was.
How had he come here?
He didn't know.
One moment, he was lying in his rented apartment, zoning out on his bed. The next—he had woken up under an unfamiliar sky.
Such a cliché way to transmigrate.
Minori sighed to himself and chuckled bitterly.
Well, it wasn't like anyone would miss him.
He had no family. No friends. No attachments.
If he vanished from Earth, no one would even notice.
Which, in a way, made things easier.
Because of this great showdown, the city was teeming with outsiders—adventurers in wild costumes and civilians from distant towns.
Compared to them, even Minori's pajama shorts from yesterday weren't all that strange.
In a world of mixed races, beliefs, and nationalities, fashion was a nonissue.
After confirming the situation and calming down, he made his first move.
He went straight to a local shop and sold the only item he had brought from Earth aside from his clothes:
A gold-enamel pendant.
He got three gold coins for it.
It had cost him two months' wages, originally intended as a gift for his ex. They broke up before he could give it to her, so he'd just kept it on him out of habit.
169 copper = 13 silver = 1 gold.
[Note: The currency system in Overlord is likely non-decimal. For example, in the anime, Sebas once paid 1 gold and 10 silver for a scroll—if it were decimal, he should've just paid 2 gold. Some fans speculate base-13 or base-20; I lean toward base-13.]
There were higher denominations, too: platinum coins, gem coins, mithril coins, and others.
So the price he got—three gold coins—for a 10g pendant was generous.
Obviously, the merchant valued the craftsmanship, not just the gold.
In a world with little advanced technology, magic was the only substitute for art or industry.
If that pendant were sold to a noblewoman or a high-class merchant, the profit margin could be enormous.
But Minori wasn't in a position to bargain.
He used 5 copper to buy plain travel clothes, and 1 silver for a basic dagger.
That left him with 2 gold, 11 silver, and 3 copper.
He used the extra 5 coppers to buy some rye bread.
"There are still more than four years left. No need to panic—"
"...Bullshit."
He stepped forward and stomped the ground in frustration, gritting his teeth.
He had read every Overlord novel and watched every episode.
And that meant he knew very well—
What was the difference between four years and tomorrow when the Great Tomb of Nazarick could appear at any time?
None.
The Kingdom of Re-Estize, everything he saw before him—including himself—was destined for ruin.
He could see only two possible futures.
Either he'd die in the inevitable war between the Kingdom and the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Or, by some slim chance, he'd survive—and become a subject of Ainz Ooal Gown.
But…
Minori raised his head.
On the hill in the distance stood the royal palace, ancient and magnificent.
And his heart clenched with unease.
Could he really hide his identity?
Could he really survive the arrival of the Great Tomb of Nazarick?