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Demiurge patrolled the halls of The Great Tomb Of Nazarick every single day.
As an appointed ruler of the New World Utopia - name bestowed upon the unified world by The Great One - the demon guardian had plenty of duties to get on with. However, unlike every other task on his list, this particular one was ingrained so deep into his psyche that only a direct order from Lord Ainz himself would be able to make him stop.
Regardless, today’s routine that had lasted for centuries was about to be interrupted, for one of the very few conditions for the awakening of His Greatness Ainz Ooal Gown had just been met.
Demiurge was overwhelmed with emotion; filled with such joy that he hadn’t felt since his Lord and Master chose to retreat into self-imposed exile within the Exalted Throne Room. The reason was simple - Lord Ainz Ooal Gown had instructed to not disturb him unless a truly extraordinary event had taken place. And for the first time in centuries, something extraordinary had happened, indeed.
Loyal subjects of the Supreme Being’s Will that they were, every single Guardian, Maid and Servant of the Great Tomb Of Nazarick had obeyed the directive of the Supreme Being to the letter, no matter how painful it was for them to distance themselves from the subject of their great adoration, admiration, love, respect, and a multitude of other feelings, some of which had no tangible words in any known language.
Taking slow, careful steps towards the long-sealed Throne Room, Demiurge couldn’t help but reminisce about all the Feats Of Absolute Greatness that he was privileged to witness his Master perform with elegant ease.
It took Nazarick just five years to subjugate every nation, human or otherwise, under the Sorcerer Kingdom’s perfect rule. A year later, any semblance of foolish resistance against Lord Ainz’s Supreme Rule had been eradicated.
After a definitive decision from The Supreme One, it took Demiurge and his associates fifty long years to derive ways to produce synthetic versions of what used to require living beings, such as scrolls or potions. None of the guardians understood why their Master insisted on finding methods less punishing on dirt-like beings of the New World, but such was his millenia-spanning wisdom. Demiurge eventually, albeit much too late, realised that relieving Nazarick of dependency on subpar races was an impeccable plan, indeed. Lord Ainz was too exalted to rely on such low-intelligence beings for the good of his loyal subjects, hence he pushed Demiurge and others to find better solutions than farming of the dumb animals.
Ainz Ooal Gown’s ever-unfathomable wisdom proved itself true in another way. After decades of perfect existence, the races of the world now fully devoted to His Supreme Being’s Will had finally developed a religion fit His Ultimate Greatness. Such was their devotion, that many had willingly submitted themselves as subjects for Nazarick’s experiments. Such were their numbers, that the laboratories were not starved for experiment candidates for decades, much to the relief of Demiurge and his subordinates.
And yet…
What was a miracle for humans and other lowly races of the New World, turned to be a devastating disaster for the dissidents of the Great Tomb Of Nazarick.
Their anguish was ultimate, overwhelming and unfathomable. Their Master, God and Source Of All Joy had retreated into self-imposed solitude, leaving them starved for His Love and Direction.
Upon witnessing the completion of his goal to turn the New World into a utopia of his perfect design, Ainz Ooal Gown, The Last Remaining Supreme Being, The Master Of Death, The Justice Himself, The Most Beautiful One, amongst his other uncountable titles and achievements… had completely shut himself from the world that had, clearly, bored him with its mundane perfection.
Demiurge stopped a few dozen paces before the set of giant doors that hadn’t been opened for over fifteen decades.
His fellow Floor Guardians came to mind. Most endured the punishing absence of The Exalted One and continued their duties in His Name.
All, bar one.
Albedo fell to madness just a century into Lord Ainz’s self-imposed exile. Unable to bear separation from The One she loved, the previous Overseer of Floor Guardians attempted to breach the Holy Solitude of the Great One on multiple occasions. Ultimately, Demiurge and other Guardians had no other choice but to entomb the succubus into eternal ice until their Master called for them, or her, allowing entry into his Hallowed Hall.
Demiurge completely understood Albedo’s motivations and never seen her transgressions as treacherous. Nonetheless, he could not allow Lord Ainz’s commands to be disrespected.
Such a train of thought brought Demiurge, The Ultimate Guardian Of Nazarick, as appointed by Lord Ainz Ooal Gown himself, back into his current situation.
Behind the most powerful demon lord of the New World stood a short insect-like humanoid. The guest of Nazarick barely reached halfway towards his host’s height and had no obvious discerning features that could peg him as anyone special.
What got him this far into The Great Tomb Of Nazarick wasn’t his ability, but his knowledge.
Demiurge was alerted to a fledgling who spoke about the Battle Against The Union Of Eight with such detail that could not be known by anyone by one of the participants. Initially, the Demon Lord thought of the talkative newcomer to be one of the enemies, thus feeling the need to deliver him for Lord Ainz’s ever-fair judgment to be dispensed at him. However, upon laying his eyes upon the youngster, Demiurge couldn’t help but think of His Lordship Touch Me, and thus he decided to bring this odd person in front of the wisest being he could think of. That being, naturally, was Lord Ainz Ooal Gown himself.
Doors of the Great Throne Room opened with a muffled huff, rather than their usual perfect swing-and-slam that filled most guests with a mix of dread and awe. Centuries-old layers of dust that gathered on the other side of the mighty entrance ensured that Demiurge’s entrance was quiet. Perhaps, Lord Ainz forbade even maids from entering his Sacred Hall exactly for this reason - to ensure his slumber was not interrupted even by such nuisance as opening of doors.
“Lord Ainz…” Demiurge knelt down and bowed as low as he could, even lower than any of the lowly subjects did when forced by his command. “I apologize profusely for disturbing you!”
He paused, ready to be disintegrated by a mere thought of his Perfect Ruler.
When that didn’t happen, the Demon Guardian rejoiced at his Master’s absolute benevolence.
“Lord Ainz, I have a visitor that claims to know of the other Supreme Beings.”
Another pause, another expectation of the deserved doom caused by his insolent words.
“This fledgling knows of the Union Of Eight, the treacherous alliance that failed to tarnish the Great Name of the Tomb Of Nazarick and Ainz Ooal Gown.”
A skeleton, clad in golden robes caked in dust that sat on the elaborate throne at the other end of the enormous hall, had moved at the words that addressed him. The movement had dispersed any spec of dust from his outfit and body, as if they were never in the first place. Naturally, this was the incredible and unfathomable magic of Ainz Ooal Gown. The Universe itself shuddered at his whim.
“It is good to see you, Demiurge.” Lord Ainz’s words filled the Demon Guardian’s blackest-of-black heart with unfathomable joy amplified by the centuries of being deprived of His Magnificent Voice.
“Show me our guest, please.”
Before the Floor Guardian could answer to his Master, the young bug-like humanoid lept from behind his escort and yelled towards the Absolute Ruler Of The New World sitting on the throne, like he was just his old pal.
“Hey there, Momonga! Gotta say, you made for a much more accomplished Guild Master than I could’ve hoped to be around here!”