Chapter Text
A knight in glittering full plate armor stood before a young girl and her little sister, his sword raised high.
His blade gleamed in the sun, and he poised himself, ready to end their lives in a single stroke.
The girl squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bit her lower lip. She had never asked for this. She had been forced into her present circumstances. If only she had some strength, she might have resisted the enemy in front of her and fled, However, she did not have that strength.
Thus, there could only be one outcome to this situation. That would be the girl’s death, at this very place.
The longsword fell and yet there was no pain, no gushing of vital essence apon vibrant grass. She gingerly opened her squeezed shut eyes.
The first thing she saw was the suddenly motionless longsword.
Then, she saw the sword’s owner.
The knight in front of her was frozen in place, his eyes looking somewhere off to her side, heavy breaths echoing from his helm. He stood completely defenceless, posture clearly displaying the terror that filled his heart.
As though drawn by the knight’s gaze, the girl could not help but turn and look in the same direction as him.
And so the girl gazed upon despair.
What she saw was darkness.
It was an infinitesimally thin, yet unfathomably deep blackness. It was a halfoval of obsidian that seemed to protrude from the earth. It was a mysterious sight that filled the ones watching it with a powerful sense of unease.
Was it a door?
The girl could not help but think so after she saw what lay before her.
As her heart lurched, the girl’s conjecture was confirmed.
Something seemed to be coming out of that shadowy passage.
And in the moment that it resolved itself in her eyes.
A deafening shriek came from her.
It was an opponent which humanity could not overcome.
Twin points of crimson light burned brightly within the empty eye sockets of a bleached skull. Those two points of light coldly scanned the girl and the others present, like a predator sizing up its prey.
Within its fleshless hands it grasped a magic staff that seemed divine in nature, yet inspired dread in equal measure. It was like a crystallization of all the beauty in the world.
It wore an intricately detailed black robe, and it resembled nothing so much as an incarnation of death, born from the darkness of another world.
In an instant, the air seemed to freeze. It was as though time itself had stood still in the wake of a Supreme Being’s advent. The girl forgot to breathe, as if the sight had stolen the very air from her lungs.
Then, in this silent realm, the girl began choking, and gasped for air.
This avatar of death must have manifested itself in order to guide her to the land of the dead. It was only natural to think so.
But then, the girl who thought this way suddenly realized that something was wrong. That was because the knight who had been planning to kill her from behind was now completely still.
“Gaaah…”
A cry that sounded like a wail crept into her ears.
From whose mouth had that sound come?
It felt like it could have come from hers, or that of her little sister, shivering in fright, or from the mouth of the knight that had been about to kill her.
A skeletal hand slowly extended itself, its fingers spreading as though reaching for something, and they moved past the girl, toward the knight behind her.
She wanted to look away from it, but fear kept her gaze in place. She had the feeling that if she averted her eyes, she would see a far more horrible sight instead.
“Grasp Heart!”
The incarnation of death clenched its fist, and the girl heard the sound of crunching metal from behind her.
Though she was afraid to take her eyes away from the figure of death, curiosity got the better of her and the girl wrenched her eyes away, whereupon she saw the body of the knight. He was sprawled motionless on the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Dead.
Of that there was no doubt.
The danger that had almost claimed her life was no more. But this was no cause for celebration. The death that stalked her had merely taken a more concrete shape.
That death drew close to the girl, who watched it with terrified eyes.
The darkness in her field of vision grew ever larger.
she clutched her sister tightly to herself. The notion of escape no longer existed within her head.
If her opponent were human, she might be able to cling to some faint hope and struggle desperately for her life. But the being before her shattered that hope like spun glass.
Please, at least let me die without pain.
That was all the girl could hope for.
Her shuddering sister hugged her tightly. All she could do was apologize for her weakness, for being unable to protect her sister’s life. She prayed that her sister would not be lonely as they went on to the afterlife, because they would be traveling there together.
"In the year 2138 AD the world was a Hell scape born of ignorance and economic disparity."
"From the drudge of everyday life people sought escape."
"Some fell to drugs."
"Others, sex."
"Gambling was popular, the notion of winning an enticing chance for change."
"Me and my brother?"
"We became obsessed with DMMO-RPG's."
That word was an acronym for Dive Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game.”
"These games were played by connecting a dedicated console to the brain via a neuronal nano-interface, an intracerebral nanocomputer network, created from the fusion of cyber and nanotechnology."
"These were games that allowed one to enter a virtual world and experience it as though it were real life."
"So of course, it became one of the most popular ways to de-stress for much of the world."
"And among the myriad of DMMO-RPGs that thronged the market, one of them stood head and shoulders above all the others."
"Yggdrasil."
"This game had been painstakingly developed and released twelve years ago, in 2126."
"Compared to other DMMO-RPGs of the time, Yggdrasil’s selling point was player freedom."
"It had over two thousand basic and advanced job classes. Every class had a maximum of fifteen levels, and so in order to reach the overall level cap of one hundred, one would need to take at least seven different classes."
"However, Players could take as many classes as they wanted as long as they met each class’s prerequisites. "
"A Player could even take a hundred classes at level one each, although that was very inefficient and outside of gag characters never happened."
"As such, in this system, it was virtually impossible to make identical characters unless one was deliberately trying to do so. "
"In addition, one could use various creator tools, all sold separately of course, to fully customize one’s armor, weaponry, flavor text, appearance, and other cosmetic settings."
"Not only that but a vast world awaited its players. Nine worlds in total: Asgard, Alfheim, Vanaheim, Nidavellir, Midgard, Jotunheim, Niflheim, Helheim, and Muspelheim."
"It boasted a massive world, numerous classes, and freely customizable appearances. These features ignited the creative spirits of its Japanese players, and sparked what would later be known as a stylistic revolution."
"So popular was it that whenever the word “DMMO-RPG” was mentioned in Japan, listeners would immediately think of Yggdrasil."
"Still, all these were things of the past now."
A gigantic table carved of gleaming black stone sat in the center of the room, surrounded by forty-two luxurious chairs.
However, most of those seats were empty. Once, every single place had been filled, but now only three were occupied.
One of the seated people was clothed in a magnificent black academic robe, edged in violet and gold. The collar seemed excessively gaudy, but somehow it brought the whole outfit together.
However, the exposed head was a bare skull. Points of dark red light glowed in its large eye sockets, and behind that skull glowed a halo of black radiance.
He was an Overlord, the highest-ranked of those magic casters who had become undead in order to learn the most potent of spells.
The being sitting two seats down was not human either, merely a mass of a black, sticky substance. Its tar-like surface roiled and writhed continuously, never staying in the same shape for more than a second.
An Elder Black Ooze, which boasted the most powerful corrosive ability of the slime families.
Sitting next to the Skeletal sorcerer was the armoured form of a demonic entity. Dark purple laid the foundations of its equipment, with the occasional red decal to contrast vibrantly. His helmet sat on the table in front of him, a simple and traditional design except for the two large holes that allowed the man's horns through.
He was a Demon Lord. The highest rank of the demon race and a master of the elements of flame and curse.
One might encounter these monsters in the most difficult of dungeons. Overlords could use powerful spells of the highest tiers of magic, while Elder Black Oozes were dreaded for their ability to degrade weapons and armor, and a Demon Lord's ability to augment itself or weaken their foes with curses were difficult to counter.
However, they were not game monsters, but Players.
In Yggdrasil, Players could choose their character races from three broad groups: humanoid, demi-human and heteromorphic.
Humanoids were the basic Player type and were composed of humans, Dwarves, Elves, and their many varieties.
Demi-humans tended to be ugly, but possessed superior attributes to humanoids. Examples of demi-humans were Goblins, Beastmen, Ogres, and so on.
Finally, heteromorphic races had monstrous abilities, but despite their stats being generally higher than those of other races, they also possessed various drawbacks.
There were around seven hundred playable races in total, including the advanced versions of these races.
Naturally, the Overlord, Elder Black Ooze, and Demon Lord were among the high-tier heteromorphic races that were playable.
The Overlord, who was speaking at the moment, did not move his mouth. That was because even the most advanced DMMO-RPGs of the time still could not overcome the technological hurdle of properly modeling the changes on a character’s face in response to emotions and speech.
“It’s really been a while, Herohero. Although this is the last day of Yggdrasil, I didn’t expect you to show up.”
"Yeah, it's been a while since we last were able to chat." Added Sathan.
“Indeed it has, it's good to see you Momonga, Sathan.”
The three of them spoke with the voices of grown men, the two brothers were similar, though one was deeper, with a baritone rumble. Compared to the voice of their counterparts, the Ooze’s words lacked force, or perhaps it could be said that they lacked energy.
“You stopped coming online after you changed your job IRL, so how long has it been… about two years?” Momonga said.
“Ah, seems about right. wah, it’s been so long… this is bad. I’ve been doing so much overtime recently that my sense of time is starting to go weird.”
“That’s really bad, right? Are you okay?” Asked Sathan, worry clear in his voice.
“My body? Well, it’s a mess. I haven’t had to see a doctor yet, but I’m almost there, it’s really bad. A lot of times, I feel like I want to run away from it all, but then I think about how I need money to live and then I go back to work like a whipped slave.” Herohero griped.
“Uwah-” The Overlord, Momonga, lowered his head in an “I can’t take it” gesture. “That’s terrible.”
As though following up on Momonga’s comment, Herohero delivered a grim monologue, his words laced with an unimaginable reality.
The Overlord and Ooze griped loudly about the foolishness they encountered in their working lives. The Demon nodding and occasionally adding in his own grief about working in Economics.
Subordinates who did not know how to report, communicate, and discuss things, spreadsheets that changed by the day, scoldings by their superiors for not meeting various KPIs, working late every day until they could not go home, gaining weight because of their irregular lifestyles, and the increasing amounts of medicine they had to take every day.
Herohero’s grievances burst forth like a broken dam, Momonga and Sathan gave him their support as an open ear for him.
A lot of people were averse to discussing reality in a virtual world. It was fairly normal for people to not want to talk about their offline lives in a game.
However, this was not so for them.
The guild they belonged to, a group that was founded and managed by Players. Ainz Ooal Gown, had two conditions that each of its members had to fulfill. The first was that everyone had to be a working member of society. The other was that they had to play heteromorphic characters.
Because of these rules, the topics they discussed often revolved around their jobs in the real world. Any member of the guild would field these questions and, as such, the conversation between the three could be considered standard fare for the guild.
After about ten minutes, the torrent of words that flowed from Herohero dwindled to a trickle. “…I’m sorry for making you listen to my whining. I can’t complain much IRL.”
The place corresponding to Herohero’s head seemed to sway, as though he were bowing in apology. Thus, Momonga replied: “Don’t worry about it, Herohero. I made you come online despite you being busy, so listening to your complaints is only expected. I’ll hear you out, no matter how many complaints you have.”
"And I'll always be there for you man, I still owe you for that boss in the crypt of Alzona." Sathan said.
Herohero seemed to have recovered some of his old energy, and with a somewhat more energetic laugh, he replied:
“Ah, I’m grateful for that, Momonga, Sathan. I’m glad I could have such good friends, even after all this time away.”
Momonga nodded. “I’m very happy to hear you say that.”
“…Although it’s about time for me to log off.”
Herohero’s tentacle waggled in mid-air, as though he were operating something. Indeed, he was operating a menu.
“You’re right, it is getting pretty late…” Sathan said with hidden disappointment.
“I’m sorry about this, Momonga, Sathan.”
Momonga sighed gently, as though he didn’t want Herohero to sense the regret in his heart, while Sathan nodded solemnly.
“Well, if it’s like that, then it’s a shame… time flies so fast when you’re having fun.”
“I really did want to stay with you to the end, but I’m about to fall asleep.”
“Ah, well, you do sound pretty tired. Then, you should log out soon and have a good rest.”
“I’m really sorry…. Although, Momonga, how long do you plan to stay, Guild Leader?”
“I intended to stay on until I was automatically logged out once the servers shut down. Since it’s still a ways off, maybe someone might come by in the meantime.”
“Is that so… still, I really didn’t expect this place to be so well preserved.”
At this moment, Momonga was grateful that he had no way to show his expressions. If he did, Herohero would probably have seen his face twist up. Even then, his voice would betray how he truly felt, so Momonga kept quiet, in order to suppress the feelings surging up within him.
Sathan nodded. "Me and my brother have been working hard to keep everything in tip top shape."
It was true, He and Takahiro had worked hard to maintain the guild precisely because they had built it up along with everyone else, but hearing words like these from one of his guild members sparked a mix of complicated emotions in Momonga's heart. However, these feelings dispersed like mist as Herohero continued.
“Momonga, you must have kept the guild going as its leader so we could come back to it at any time. And Sathan, I can't imagine the amount of grinding you've done. Thank you both, it means a lot to know our safe space is still in one piece.”
“…It was a guild built by everyone, so it’s my job as guildmaster to keep things going so that the members can come back at any time.”
"And you know I like to put on podcasts and just do something repetitive like that, it was no trouble."
The glob of slime acting as Herohero's head moved to observe the meeting Round Table Room. “We had fun with the game because you were our guildmaster, Momonga… I hope that when we meet again, it’ll be in Yggdrasil II.”
“I haven’t heard anything about a second game… but like you said, I’d be glad if we could meet like that.”
"It'd certainly do well on the market, especially if they reuse a lot of assets and build an even more in-depth world using Yggdrasil's parts."
Momonga sighed at his brother's business take on the situation.
“I’ll look forward to it! I’m having trouble staying awake… I think I’ll log off first. I’m glad I could meet you in the end. Goodnight.”
Momonga wanted to say something, but he hesitated for a moment, and then he spoke:
“I was very happy to meet you too. Goodnight.”
"Rest easy Herohero."
A smiley appeared near Herohero’s head. Since characters in Yggdrasil could not express emotions through their facial expressions, they used emoticons instead.
Momonga worked his control interface, and produced a similar smiley while Sathan waved.
Herohero’s last words were, “Let’s meet up again somewhere.”
And so, the last of the three guild members outside of the two siblings to come online tonight vanished.
Silence descended once more, it was as though nobody had ever been here in the first place. Nothing was left behind.
Momonga looked at the place where Herohero had been sitting, and he muttered the words he wanted to say.
“Today’s the last day of the game, I know you’re tired, but we’ll never have a chance like this again, why don’t we stay together until the end?”
"I should have tried convincing him, I played with him the most before he switched jobs, might have gotten him all nostalgic." Sathan sighed.
Momonga sighed from the bottom of his heart. "it's better that it ended up this way." During their brief exchange, he could already tell how tired Herohero was from the sound of his voice. Still, despite his fatigue, Herohero had still responded to the email he had sent, and logged on for the last day of Yggdrasil before it closed down.
"Yeah, we should be grateful enough that he showed up at all. Asking him to stay on would have been pushing it a bit."
Momonga stared at the seat Herohero had occupied until just now, and then turned to look at the other thirty-nine empty seats. Those were the places where their old comrades had once sat. After circling around the table, Momonga returned his eyes to Herohero’s place. “Let’s meet up again somewhere… huh.”
Let’s meet up again somewhere.
See you again.
He had heard these words several times before, but they had never come true. Nobody had ever returned to Yggdrasil.
“When and where will we ever meet again?” Momonga’s shoulders shook violently, and the words he could no longer hold back exploded forth: “Are you kidding me?!”
He pounded the table as he shouted. The Yggdrasil system registered this action as an attack, and began the complex calculations of Momonga’s barehanded attack strength against the table’s defensive strength to determine the final total of damage inflicted.
In the end, the area Momonga had struck emitted a simple 0.
“This is the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick that we built together! How could he abandon it just like that?!”
After he shouted the words in his heart, the only thing left in there was emptiness. Sathan gave his brother a moment to release his stress. He knew Satoru would reason himself to a more sensible line of thought.
“…No, that’s not right. They didn’t abandon it lightly; they simply made the choice between reality and fantasy. It couldn’t be helped. Nobody would betray the guild. Everyone who made that decision must have found it painful…” Momonga muttered as he then stood up.
He walked toward the wall, where an elaborately decorated magic staff was kept.
Seven serpents twined around the body of the staff. The serpents’ mouths gaped open in rage, and each mouth held a gem of a different color. The grip was exquisitely carved out of crystal and glowed with golden light. Anyone would be able to recognize this staff as a supremely high-quality item, and it was a Guild Weapon that was unique to this guild.
One could call it the symbol of Ainz Ooal Gown. This staff, which should have been a treasure held by the guildmaster, was instead kept in this room as a decoration.
That was because there was nothing else which represented the guild quite like this. Guild Weapons were typically kept hidden away in safe places and not used for their tremendous powers because a guild would be disbanded if its associated Guild Weapon was destroyed.
Even Ainz Ooal Gown, a guild which existed at the peak of Yggdrasil, was no exception to this.
This was the reason why the weapon had been kept here, and Momonga had never touched it, despite the fact that it had been tailor-made to complement his abilities.
Momonga extended a hand to the staff, but stopped halfway.
This was because at this moment, in the last few minutes before Yggdrasil shut down for good, he realized that soon the glorious memories he had made with his comrades would be lost forever, like tears in the rain.
The confusion he felt over this made him hesitate as he struggled to come to a decision.
"Everyone had adventured every day, with the sole purpose of assembling the Guild Weapon. We held contests to see who could collect the most raw materials the fastest, and there were countless disputes over the appearance of that weapon." Takahiro said, resting a hand on Momonga’s shoulder while gazing at the staff.
Momonga remembered that period of time. It had been the prime of Ainz Ooal Gown, when all his glorious memories had been made. People had dragged themselves online after a grueling day at work, others had argued with their wives because they played until they neglected their families, and some even laughed and said they had taken special leave to stay home from work and log on to the game.
"We raided enemy guilds’ home bases and laid siege to their strongholds. Once, we were almost wiped out by a World Class Enemy. We discovered many previously unknown resources, and had placed all sorts of monsters in our guild base in order to mass produce the resources needed."
Takahiro nudged Momonga forward slightly. "All so we could show pride in ourselves and our comrades. It'd be a shame if all our work never had a test run."
Takahiro was right. This was the incarnation of those days. This was the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown. The embodied effort and pride of Their Guild.
Ainz Ooal Gown had always decided things by use of a majority vote. Momonga might have been the guildmaster, but his job was mainly communicating with people and doing other minor tasks.
Because of that, now that there was only one other guild member present, and they were requesting him to use it, Momonga had no real choice, as the guild’s leader he had to ensure those within the guild were heard. “This is a pretty sad state of affairs.” Momonga muttered to himself as he operated his player console.
He intended to equip himself in the gear that best suited the leader of a top-tier guild. Yggdrasil’s equipment was classified according to how much data each item possessed.
Items with more data were ranked higher. From the lowest to the highest rank, they were low class, middle class, high class, top class, legacy class, relic class, legendary class and, what Momonga was currently selecting, divine class.
On Momonga's ten bony fingers he wore nine rings, each with a different ability. Then there was the matter of his necklace, his gloves, his boots, his cape, his cloak, and his circlet, all of which were divine class items as well. If they had a price, it would be a jaw-dropping one.
A red and black aura rose slowly from beneath his feet, and at a glance it seemed extremely ominous.
This aura was not the result of any skill Momonga activated. It was simply because there had been extra room in the robe’s data capacity, so the special effects data for a Disaster Aura had been added into it. Touching that aura would not cause any harm but it certainly gave the appearance of a deadly gloom.
After changing out his gear, the fully equipped Momonga nodded, satisfied that he looked the part of the guild’s leader.
Then, he reached out and grasped the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
As Momonga grasped the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, it radiated a nimbus of reddish-black light. Tormented faces occasionally coalesced out of the roiling light, and then they crumbled and vanished again. They looked so realistic one could almost imagine them wailing in agony. “…I wonder if they went overboard with the details.”
Takahiro snickered, likely since he knew all the different intricacies that the other forty members put into it.
Since it was crafted for Momonga he didn't get to see it being made. It, and all its abilities, were to be a surprise for him.
The staff that had been made but never used had finally found its way into its rightful owner’s hands, in the twilight hours of Yggdrasil. Momonga rejoiced as he saw his parameters rising rapidly, but at the same time he felt sad. “Let’s go, symbol of the guild. Or no, my symbol of the guild.”
"That's the spirit!" Takahiro shouted as he slapped Momonga on the back.
Momonga chuckled at his brother's antics.
Together they left what was known as the Round Table Room.
Guild members had a ring reserved for their use. Anyone who wore that ring would automatically appear in this place when they logged into the game, barring special circumstances. If any guild members returned, they would do so in this room.
However, Momonga knew that the other members of the guild would not be coming back here. In the last few minutes of the game, the only Players who remained in the gigantic Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick was Takahiro and himself. Momonga suppressed the emotions that were rising like a tide, and walked through the halls.
This place was like a castle built of alabaster, a magnificent world suffused with a regal atmosphere. If one raised their head to look at the ceiling, they would see crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling at fixed intervals, radiating a warm light. The broad hallways had brilliantly polished stone floors, which reflected the light from the chandeliers in a way that made it seem like twinkling stars were embedded in its surface.
If a visitor opened the doors on both sides of him, his attention would be captivated by the decadent furnishings within. A third party observing this scene would probably be staring in awe. The much-hated Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick had once been attacked by the largest invading force ever assembled in the game’s history. Eight guilds banded together with their allies to bring a force of over fifteen hundred Players, mercenaries, and NPCs to bear on Nazarick, but in the end, they were miserably defeated.
That legendary dungeon was now reduced to this.
The Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick had once been a six-floor dungeon, but it had been dramatically altered after Ainz Ooal Gown took control of it.
Currently, it was a ten-floor dungeon, and each floor had its own unique theme.
The First to Third Floors were modeled after a tomb. The Fourth Floor was an underground lake. The Fifth Floor was a frozen glacier. The Sixth Floor was a rainforest. The Seventh Floor was a sea of magma. The Eighth Floor was a wasteland.
And the Ninth and Tenth Floors were the realm of the gods, in other words, the home base of Ainz Ooal Gown, which had ranked among the top ten of Yggdrasil’s thousands of guilds.
The sound of their footsteps and the tapping of Momonga’s staff rang through this holy sanctuary. After turning several corners in these vast hallways, they saw a woman in the distance, heading in their direction.
She was a beauty with lush golden hair grazing her shoulders. She was dressed in a long, elegant maid’s outfit, with a large apron. She was roughly one hundred seventy centimeters tall, with a slender build. Her ample bosom looked like it would burst out of her bodice at any time.
Her overall appearance was attractive and gave the impression of being graceful and kind. As the two slowly approached each other, the maid darted to the side of the hallways and bowed deeply to Momonga. In return, Momonga raised his hand in acknowledgment.
"See, your already more commanding with that staff." Takahiro teased.
Momonga shook his head in fond exasperation.
The maid’s expression remained as it was, and she kept the same smile on her face.
In Yggdrasil, facial expressions did not change, but this girl was slightly different from Player characters with their unchanging expressions.
This maid was a Non-Player Character.
She was not controlled by the game, but by a set of AI routines. Simply put, she was a mobile doll. Even if her design was incredibly realistic, her bow was nothing more than a programmed action.
Momonga’s acknowledgment of her bow was nothing more than a foolish gesture, because she was nothing more than a doll.
However, He had reasons for not treating her coldly. There were forty-two maid NPCs in the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, each with their own unique design. Their creator was a mangaka who had broken into the industry with his maid illustrations, and who was currently serialized in a monthly magazine.
Momonga studied the maid carefully. Apart from her looks, he also scrutinized her uniform. The intricacy of the design, especially the fine embroidery that speckled her apron, was enough to make people gasp in awe. Their design had been exceptionally detailed because of the declaration, “Maid uniforms are their secret weapons!”
Momonga couldn’t help but feel nostalgic as he remembered the complaints from the other guild members who had helped with the design. “Ah… that’s right. I think it was from then that he started saying that ‘Maid uniforms are justice!’ Come to think of it, I think the manga he’s drawing now has a maid as a main character. Do his assistants cry when he goes overboard on the designs? Ah, Whitebrim-san.”
"It's actually pretty good, you should give it a read later."
"I'm already trying to watch all of One Piece, I'm only on episode one thousand and two fifty."
"Bro… there's like five thousand episodes… Why do this to yourself?"
Momonga just shrugged and continued walking. Reflecting on the maids’ AI routines, which had been programmed by Herohero-san and five others.
Those maid’s were the personification of his past friends’ hard work.
He could not simply ignore her without feeling bad about it. After all, this maid was also a part of the glorious history of Ainz Ooal Gown.
Momonga glanced at the translucent watch on his left wrist and checked the time. “Thank you for your hard work.” Momonga said as he walked past the maid.
As they passed the maid, there was no response, but that was only to be expected. Still, even if she did not reply to him, Momonga still felt that it had to be said, because it was the last day of Yggdrasil.
After a while they reached a gigantic staircase. It was wide enough that over ten people could walk down it side by side, arms outstretched, with no problems.
A luxurious red carpet draped on the steps. At the end of which sat the Tenth Floor of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. The place where they had arrived was a large receiving room, with several figures within.
The first to enter Momonga’s line of sight was a distinguished old gentleman in a butler’s outfit.
His hair was pure white, even the beard and mustache near his mouth. His face was deeply wrinkled and gave onlookers the impression that he was a kind and gentle person, but his keen eyes were like those of an eagle sizing up prey.
There were six maids standing behind the butler. However, these maids were different from the one Momonga had met earlier, in looks and equipment. The maids wore gauntlets and greaves of gold, silver, black, and other colored metals. The very picture of battle maids. Their purpose was to defend against invaders.
When designing an original NPC, one could customize weaponry and other equipment in addition to clothing and appearances. As a result, one could create NPCs that were far stronger than the automatic spawns within guild bases and place them in key locations.
Of course, not every NPC had to be designed for battle. In this way, each guild could freely determine their own unique style.
The butler, Sebas, was designed as that of a house steward. The six maids beside him were combat maids loyal to him and by extension, the guild members. Together, they were called the “Pleiades.”
In addition to these warrior maids, Sebas was also in charge of the manservants. As an aside, all the NPCs apart from the maids were also very well fleshed out. This stemmed from the guild members all being fans of complex backstories and the little details.
Many of the guild members were artists and programmers, and a game like this which emphasized the customization of appearances, allowing them to indulge their desire to create and design, was a godsend to them.
Originally, Sebas and the combat maids were intended to be a last line of defense against invaders. However, if enemy Players could penetrate this deeply into the tomb, they would be able to handily defeat Sebas and the maids, so they were little more than speedbumps to buy time.
However, no Player had ever made it this far, so they had been waiting here for orders. Without orders, all they could do was wait for a chance to be of use. Momonga tightened his grip on the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
He knew it was foolish to feel pity for NPCs but even still.
They were nothing more than a collection of electronic data, and the closest they could come to real emotion was a very skilled set of AI routines. However, “As guildmaster, I should put the NPCs to good use, don't you think?” Momonga could not help but laugh alongside Sathan as he gave them a command. “Follow me.”
Sebas and the maids bowed respectfully, to show they had heard and acknowledged the order.
"Ainz Ooal Gown is a guild that respects the will of the majority. It's forbidden for an individual to selfishly manipulate the NPCs that everyone had made together. However…" Sathan said as he slung an arm around Sabas, looking for the world ridiculous.
He had to stoop low in order to do so, courtesy of Demon Lords standing at nine feet tall.
"Today is the day when everything we made disappears. Think everyone would probably forgive us for indulging a bit?"
As Momonga thought about that, he continued moving forward, followed by the sounds of many footsteps.
Soon they reached the entrance to the throne room.
The majestic set of double doors were over five meters in height, and covered in intricate carvings. The left side was shaped into a beautiful goddess, while the right was made to resemble a cruel demon. So realistic was their design that even from across the room, one would think that they would attack.
However, Momonga’s caution was unfounded.
"Allow me to open the door, it would be unbecoming of the Supreme Overlord of Nazarick to do it himself."
Takahiro stepped in front and placed a hand either side of the door, pretending to push them slowly open. They opened by themselves of course but Momonga wasn't going to spoil Sathan's little role play. In deference to their massive weight the doors opened slowly.
The air changed.
Although the atmosphere from earlier was filled with quiet solemnity, the scene before his eyes now exceeded that by far. The air became a pressure that weighed heavily on the entire body.
The throne room was an exquisite piece of art.
Numerous flags emblazoned with different symbols hung from flagpoles sunk into the walls. A total of forty-two of these flags swayed gently in the wind, from the ceiling to the floor.
In the center of this room that was tinted gold and silver, there was a flight of stairs about ten steps high. Atop these stairs was a gigantic throne, carved out of a single piece of crystal, whose back was high enough to touch the ceiling above it. A huge red banner hung down behind it, proudly displaying the symbol of the guild.
This place was located in the deepest reaches of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. It was also its most important place. Even Takahiro, who spent hours painstakingly aligning the pillars in neat rows, could not help but gasp at the sheer magnificence of this room.
Momonga felt that it was easily the second most impressive location in Yggdrasil, if not the first.
This was the most suitable place for them to welcome the final moments of the game. As Momonga advanced through the room that seemed to absorb the sounds of his footsteps, his eye fell on the female NPC that stood by the side of the throne.
She was a beautiful woman who wore a pure white dress, and the faint smile on her face was that of a goddess. In stark contrast to her dress, her hair was a flowing, lustrous jet-black that reached down to her waist. Although her golden irises and vertically slitted pupils were somewhat odd, apart from those she could easily be considered a world-class beauty.
However, a pair of curled horns sprouted from the sides of her head. In addition, a pair of black-feathered wings emerged from her waist. Perhaps it was because of the horns, but her divine smile seemed like a mask that concealed her true feelings. She wore a golden necklace that patterned after a spiderweb. It extended from her shoulders down to the tops of her breasts. Her slender wrists were covered in a pair of lustrous silk gloves, and in her hand she held a strange weapon that looked like a wand of some sort.
It was roughly forty-five centimeters long, and a black orb hovered at its end, floating lightly in the air but holding its position at the end of the wand. Momonga had not yet forgotten her name. She was the Overseer of the Floor Guardians of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, Albedo.
She was in charge of the seven NPC Floor Guardians. In other words, she was the highest-ranked character in the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick.
Because of that, she was permitted to await orders within the Throne Room, in the deepest reaches of the Tomb.
However, Momonga turned a sharp look on Albedo: “I knew there was a World Class Item here, but how is it that there are two of them here now?” In Yggdrasil, there were two hundred ultimate items in the game, known as World Class Items. World Class Items possessed unique abilities, and some of them were so balance-breaking that they could even request changes to the game’s rules by the developers. Of course, not every World Class Item possessed such insane power.
Even so, a Player who possessed even a single World Class Item would be catapulted to the highest echelons of fame in Yggdrasil. Ainz Ooal Gown possessed Sixteen of them, the most of any guild. Even that was far in excess of any other guild.
Second place only possessed three such items. With the permission of the other guild members, Momonga was allowed to possess one of these ultimate items, and the rest of these World Class Items were scattered throughout Nazarick. However, most of them were stored in the depths of the Treasury, defended by its Avataras.
"I think Tabula gave it to her last July."
"Then I suppose we'll respect his wishes."
After Momonga gave the correct command to the Pleiades to wait, he ascended the steps and arrived at the throne. Sathan stood by his side like a personal bodyguard.
Momonga stared at Albedo, who stood on his opposite side. Though he had entered this room before, he did not recall her eyes tracking him in his memories.
Sathan stepped towards her, a wicked gauntlet outstretched, it was one of the few world class items that were Race and Class specific. Only available to high tier demons. Solomon's Arm. It allowed players to edit the settings of friendly demon NPC's. “I'm going to have a look at Albedo's settings."
"Any particular reason why?' Momonga asked, wary that his younger brother was going to do something to embarrass him.
"I'm the Demon Lord, I should know how my fellow demons are doing."
"I can literally see you typing."
"I'm just fixing a few grammar mistakes, that's all."
"Sure you are, let me see."
Momonga pushed Sathan away from the settings window and looked at what his brother was writing.
She is madly in love with Momonga, she and Sathan conspire together to try and get Momonga to loosen up. She has Sathan's blessings to court Momonga.
A cry of disbelief escaped Momonga’s nonexistent lips. He covered his face with his palm. It felt as though his little brother tried designing a girlfriend for him. It was the hight of embarrassment.
"Why?"
"Come on, Yggdrasil’s going to be gone in a few minutes, what's it matter?"
Although Momonga wanted to rewrite it out of shame, in the end he changed his mind and decided against it. The game would end soon, just like Takahiro said after all, and his embarrassment would vanish with it.
Momonga sat on the throne with a heavy sigh, scanning his surroundings with eyes filled with melancholy and a little embarrassment. He noticed that Sebas and the maids were still standing by in a dormant state. It seemed a little lonely, and a little odd, to have them standing motionless like that.
“Kneel.” As one, Albedo, Sebas, the six maids, and Sathan fell to one knee in obeisance.
Momonga sighed. "Not you, Takahiro."
Takahiro Sighed and stood. "Just take the fun out of it."
Momonga shook his head and raised his left hand to check the time.
23:55:48
They were just in time.
"The GMs are flooding the public channels and setting off fireworks." Takahiro said, staring at his own menu as he scrolled through the public chat.
Unlike Momonga, who had cut off all contact with the outside world, Takahiro still had a few people who he joined to go on raids with, specifically hunting down high end gear like the world class items. He invited Momonga multiple times but he refused each time.
Momonga leaned against the back of the throne, and slowly raised his head to look at the ceiling.
He believed that even on the last day of the game, some invaders might come, Takahiro had attacked dozens of guilds while a majority of their players no longer played after all, tearing apart their lower numbers with his hoard of infernal followers.
Who's to say someone might not try their hand against Nazarick in these twilight hours.
He chuckled to himself, thinking of all the hours and cash he and Takahiro spent on Yggdrasil.
Even though the game did not have any subscription fees, Momonga and Takahiro had both still spent a third of their monthly salaries on it.
It wasn't because they were rich but because they had no other hobbies, so together they funneled all their income into Yggdrasil.
Because almost all of Ainz Ooal Gown’s members were productive members of society, most of them were willing to spend money on this hobby, and together Momonga and Sathan were one of the biggest spenders.
That was how dedicated they were.
Adventuring with his little brother was fun, but his greatest joy was found in meeting so many comrades, both his and Sathan's friends meeting and growing into a great guild.
To them, whose parents had passed away and who had no real connections outside of work in real life, the guild Ainz Ooal Gown was a shining memory of the good times they had had.
And now, this guild would disappear.
Momonga’s heart was filled with regret and reluctance, quite sure Sathan felt the same.
Momonga gripped the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown tightly. He was just an ordinary salaryman, and he lacked the financial power or connections to change that fact. He was just another Player who could only watch the closing time as it approached.
The time on his watch read 23:57. The server would shut down at 00:00. There was little time left.
The virtual world would end, and he would have to go back to reality the next day. That was only natural. Nobody could live in a virtual world, which was why everyone had left, one by one.
Momonga sighed.
He had to wake up at four tomorrow. He had to sleep the moment the servers shut down in order not to affect the next day’s work. Sathan had it even worse, due to the time zones it would already be three for him.
Momonga looked at his little brother, pride swelling slightly as he thought of how far he's come, though he wished he didn't move overseas for work.
He was used to seeing his brother's avatar more than the real him these days.
With sigh, Momonga set his watch to count out the seconds.
23:59:35
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Momonga closed his eyes.
23:59:58,
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