Momonga was overwhelmed by Demiurge’s ardent speech and nodded several times. That said, inside, he had the feeling that this repeated emphasis on “Dark Warrior” was meant to poke fun at the absurdity of it, and he began to regret choosing the name so hastily.
“How rude of me. I am taking up your precious time, Lord Mo—Dark Warrior… Then, you all stand by here and explain where I’ve gone.”
“Understood, Master Demiurge.”
“Well, it seems like your minions have agreed. Shall we, Demiurge?”
Demiurge bowed as a token of his subordination, and Momonga slipped past him to head out. Demiurge straightened up a moment later and accompanied him.
“Why was Lord Mo—Ahem, Dark Warrior dressed like that?”
“I don’t know, but there must be some reason.”
The evil lords who had remained quietly voiced their questions.
They hadn’t known it was him just because he’d teleported—there was another way. Momonga could not perceive them, but all the minions in the Great Tomb of Nazarick—or rather, all the minions that belonged to Ainz Ooal Gown—gave off a wavering signal. They used this signal mainly to determine if someone was an ally or not. And the Forty-One Supreme Beings—currently just Momonga—“felt” to the minions like absolute rulers. It was such a bright signal that it could be sensed even at a distance. That was why even though he was covered in armor, there was no mistaking him. They would have known it was him instantly, even if he’d strolled in instead of teleported. And it was easy to distinguish that signal from any others.
The double door leading to Nazarick’s first level opened, and someone walked up the stairs. The signal that seemed to emanate to them was that of a floor guardian.
Reaching the top of the stairs, captain of the floor guardians, the beautiful Albedo, came into view. Registering the arrival of the person their direct master had been waiting for, the evil lords got down on one knee. Albedo took their obedience in stride. She looked around the room without even stopping to notice them.
She turned to the evil lords only after not managing to find whom she was looking for. Then she walked in front of them and asked no one in particular, “I don’t seem to see Demiurge around. Do you know where he is?”
“Well… Actually, someone by the name of Lord Dark Warrior came here alone a little while ago, so Master Demiurge left to accompany him.”
“Lord…Dark Warrior? I don’t know any minions by that name. And Demiurge—a guardian—accompanied him? Isn’t that a bit absurd?”
The evil lords glanced at one another, unsure what to do. Seeing this, Albedo smiled gently. “Might a bunch of minions be daring to hide something from me?”
Though there was kindness in her words, the evil lords sensed the iciness of a final warning and concluded this was not something they should hide.
“Master Demiurge judged that this Lord Dark Warrior was the one whom we serve.”
“Lord Momonga was here?!” Her voice was a bit frantic.
An evil lord replied calmly, “Well, his name was Lord Dark Warrior, but…”
“What about his guard? Did they know he was coming here? If Demiurge agreed to meet me here, he must have known Lord Momonga was coming! Ah, but more importantly, I need clothes! Draw me a bath!” She fingered her dress.
Since she had been working in various places without rest, her clothes were dirty and the ends of her hair were tangled. Even her wings were a bit of a mess. But for such a peerless beauty as Albedo, that amount of grit was hardly a minus at all; in the same way that one subtracted from a hundred million meant practically nothing, her beauty was hardly detracted from. But from Albedo’s point of view, she was not fit to present herself to the one she loved above all others.
“The nearest bath is in…Shalltear’s room? She’ll be suspicious, but I have no other choice. You guys bring me some clothes from my room! On the double!”
Albedo was about to race off, but one of the evil lords called out to her. It was an envy. “Mistress Albedo, if you’ll excuse me, would it not perhaps be better to go as you are?”
“…What are you talking about?” She stopped, and the reason she bristled was that she felt she was being asked to show herself to him filthy.
“Ah, I meant that the fact that such a beautiful woman as yourself has been working so hard for him might make a good impression and be advantageous for you in the end.”
“Not only that,” another evil lord continued, “if you take a whole bath and make all the preparations to go before Lord Momonga—Dark Warrior—that would take quite some time. If you missed him…it would be such a waste.”
Albedo moaned. It annoyed her, but they were right. “That makes sense… It seems it’s been so long since I’ve seen Lord Momonga that I’m not thinking quite straight. It’s been…eighteen hours. Don’t you think eighteen hours is just too long?”
“I do. It’s too long.”
“I need to get the groundwork of our operations laid so I can guard him personally! Now, then, grumbles aside, first I must see Lord Momonga. Where did he go?”
“He went outside just a moment ago.”
“I see.” Her reply was curt, but she was smiling in anticipation of seeing Momonga and her wings fluttered adorably. Her footsteps were quick as she bustled by the evil lords.
Then she stopped and addressed them once more. “I just want to ask one more thing: Do you really think Lord Momonga will take it as a plus if I show up all dirty?”
The scenery that stretched out before Momonga after he left the mausoleum was breathtaking.
The part of the Great Tomb of Nazarick that was aboveground took up more than two thousand square feet. It was protected by a thick wall twenty feet high, which had two entrances: the main and rear gates.
The graveyard’s undergrowth was trimmed short, creating a refreshing atmosphere. On the other hand, however, a large tree cast gloomy shadows here and there with its drooping branches. Countless white gravestones formed disorderly rows.
The neatly trimmed undergrowth and disorderly gravestones combined to create severe discord. Statues of angels and goddesses made with notable artistic merit were scattered about, warping the chaotic design to brow-furrowing levels.
There were fairly large mausoleums in each of the cardinal directions and then a huge one in the center of the graveyard. The Central Mausoleum was surrounded by armed warrior statues about twenty feet tall.
This Central Mausoleum was the entrance to the Great Tomb of Nazarick and the place from which Momonga had just come. Standing at the top of the broad white staircase, he silently looked out at the world.
Helheim, the world the Great Tomb of Nazarick was from, was eternally dark and cold. Perpetual night made for dismal scenery, and the heavens were covered by thick, dark clouds. But here was different.
Here there was a stunning night sky.
Gazing up at the stars, he sighed in amazement and shook his head several times as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Wow, even for a fantasy world, this is… This beautiful sky is proof that the air isn’t polluted here. Probably no need for heart-lung machines in this world…”
He’d never in his life seen such a clear night sky.
Momonga was about to cast a spell, but he realized his armor was in the way. Certain magic users had a skill that let them cast spells in armor, but he hadn’t learned it, so his heavy armor would impede his magic. Just because he’d created the armor with magic didn’t mean it came with amazing bonuses. There were only five spells he could use under these conditions, and unfortunately the spell he wanted to use was not among them.
Momonga put his hand into space and took out an item. It was a necklace with a bird wing charm. He put it around his neck and focused his consciousness there.
Then the one spell it contained was unleashed. “Fly!”
Freed from the yoke of gravity, Momonga glided lightly into the air. He went to ascend all at once, increasing his speed as he
flew. Demiurge rushed to follow, but Momonga didn’t pay him any mind. He just kept flying straight up.
How far up am I?
Momonga’s body slowed to a halt. He practically tore his helmet off, and when he looked at the world below, he said nothing—no, he was unable to say anything.
The night sky banished the earth’s darkness with its pale light. Each time the wind made the grass sway, it was like the world was sparkling. The stars and a great celestial body reminiscent of the moon shone in the heavens.
Momonga sighed as he spoke. “It’s just stun—No, a clichéd word like stunning doesn’t even begin to capture it. I wonder what Blue Planet would say if he could see this…” If he could see this world that doesn’t seem to have any air, water, or soil pollution…
Momonga remembered his old friend, the one who had smiled self-consciously when he got called a romanticist at an off-line gathering of guildmates, who was so kind—a man who loved the night sky. No, what he loved was nature, with its vistas that were mostly lost now due to pollution. He’d started playing Yggdrasil to experience scenery it was impossible to see anymore in the real world. And the thing he’d worked hardest on was the sixth level. The night sky there, in particular, was a realization of his ideal world.
He’d always get so excited when he was talking about nature—really, a bit too excited.
How nuts would he have gone seeing this world? How passionately would he have gushed to me, that low voice of his getting higher and higher? Craving a dose of Blue Planet’s wisdom for the first time in a while, Momonga looked to his side.
Of course, no one was there. There was no way anyone would be there.
Dimly feeling something akin to loneliness, Momonga heard the sound of flapping wings—Demiurge had transformed.
Black wings made of some kind of moist-looking membrane had sprouted from his back, and his face had turned from a human one into something vaguely frog-like. This was his half-demon form.
Some grotesques had multiple forms. In Nazarick, for example, Sebas and Albedo had other forms, too. Those types of grotesques took some trouble to make, but they were consistently popular because people enjoyed having multiple forms like a final boss. Many of them were set up so they took penalties in human or half form but received bonuses in their full grotesque form.
Looking away from Demiurge, who now had an appearance quite befitting a demon, Momonga turned once again to the twinkling stars, sighed in wonder, and uttered some words as if speaking to his friend who wasn’t there. “Being able to see just by the light of the moon and the stars—this definitely can’t be the real world, huh, Blue Planet? Everything sparkles like a box of jewels.”
“Perhaps it is a box of jewels. This world must be beautiful because it contains jewels you are meant to adorn yourself with, Lord Momo—Dark Warrior,” Demiurge answered with what seemed like flattery.
The sudden interruption made it feel like his memories of his friend were being trampled upon, and he grew irritated for a moment. But looking at such a beautiful world made all his anger fade away. Actually, looking down at the world like this made it seem so puny; he felt like maybe acting like the ruler of some league of evil wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“It truly is beautiful. Perhaps this untouched box of jewels exists to be mine for the taking.” Momonga held his hand up near his face and made a fist. Almost all the stars in the heavens fit inside. Of course, they were only hidden from view by his hand. He shrugged at what a childish thing he’d done and murmured to Demiurge, “No, I shouldn’t monopolize it. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, my friends in Ainz Ooal Gown—they should be adorned as well.”
“That’s a very attractive idea, my lord. If you so wish it, and if I might get your permission, I would mobilize Nazarick’s entire army and take this whole box of jewels for you. Nothing would make me happier than to do that and offer it up to you, whom I respect most highly.”
Momonga chuckled softly at the melodrama. Demiurge must also be a bit drunk on this ambiance…
“But that sentiment is nothing but foolish when we don’t even know what kind of beings inhabit this world. It’s possible that we’re nothings here. But…hmm… Taking over the world does sound kind of fun.”
“Taking over the world”—I sound like the villain from a kids’ TV show.
It wouldn’t be such an easy thing to do, either. There’d be the issue of how to rule the world after it was taken over, how to maintain public order and stop rebellions before they started—so many problems crop up when various countries get brought under unified rule. If you think about all that even a little bit, it makes it seem like there are no benefits to world conquest.
Even Momonga knew all that. He’d said it out of a childish desire: The world was pretty, so he wanted to have it. Also, it seemed like something the infamous guild master of Ainz Ooal Gown would do. And the last reason…was that his tongue slipped.
No, there was one more.
“Ulbert, LuciFer, Variable Talisman, and Belliver…?” He’d just recalled the former guild members who had joked that they should conquer at least one of Yggdrasil’s worlds.
He felt safe in the knowledge that Demiurge was the smartest guy in Nazarick and would therefore probably get that he was about as serious as a kid making a joke.
If Momonga had seen the look that played across the froggy face behind him, he wouldn’t have let the conversation end there.
Instead of looking at Demiurge like he should have been, he gazed at the boundary line of the heavens that embraced both the earth and the stars, the horizon.
“An unknown world… But am I really the only one here? Couldn’t some of the other guild members be here, too?”
It wasn’t possible to make alts in Yggdrasil, but he could imagine a scenario where someone who had once quit made a new character and came back for the last day. HeroHero was logged out, but there was even still the possibility that he was here. Momonga being in this world was strange enough. If he considered the fact that the entire situation was an unknown, he couldn’t completely deny the possibility that guildmates who quit the game had been sucked in, too. Message hadn’t worked, but there were any number of potential explanations for that, like that the geography was different or the effect of the spell had changed.
“In that case, I should spread the name of Ainz Ooal Gown throughout the world…” If someone from his guild were here, they would hear of it, and once they did, they would surely come to find him. He was confident that their bonds of friendship were at least that strong.
Tossed on the ocean of his thoughts, Momonga looked at Nazarick—a huge spectacle was just beginning. A span of dirt more than one hundred yards wide began to undulate like the sea. The little swells rising one after the other out of the plain slowly moved in one direction; swallowing each other up, they gradually began to form one mass, and eventually it grew to the size of a hill and swept toward Nazarick. The attacking dirt broke on the solid walls and scattered. It was just like the spray of a tsunami.
“Earth Surge… Not only did he use a skill to expand its area of effect, he’s using a class skill as well?” Momonga whispered, impressed. There was only one person in Nazarick who could use magic like that. “I’d expect nothing less of Mare. Seems like leaving the camouflage work up to him was the right choice.”
“Indeed. Besides Mare’s efforts, we are utilizing undead, golems, and other minions who do not experience fatigue to do some of the work, but unfortunately they are making little progress. When they move some earth, the land is left bald—we’ll need to grow some plants in order to conceal it, which only makes more work for Mare…”
“The walls of our castle are so vast—it makes sense it would take some time to cover them. The problem will be if we are discovered partway through. What precautions have we taken?”
“An early warning network is already in place. We can now detect any sentient being that comes within about three miles instantly without their knowledge. “
>
“Splendid. But are there minions in that network?” Hearing Demiurge’s affirmative, Momonga thought they should create another warning network without minions, just in case. “I have an idea for that warning network—please use it.”
“Understood. I’ll include it after consulting with Albedo. By the way, Lord Dark Warrior—”
“Ah, that’s enough, Demiurge. You can just call me Momonga.”
“I see. Lord Momonga, may I inquire what your plans are?”
“I’m thinking to go check up on Mare, since he’s carrying out my order so perfectly. I’d like to give him a reward, but I wonder what would be appropriate…”
A smile played across Demiurge’s face, a kindhearted one unbecoming to a demon. “I think your talking to him will be plenty reward enough… Ah, my apologies. Something has come up. I won’t be able to—”
“You’re forgiven. Go, Demiurge.”
“Thank you, Lord Momonga!”
At the same time Demiurge flapped his wings, Momonga began his descent. On the way, he put his helmet back on.
The dark elf situated at Momonga’s landing spot looked up as if he sensed something. Surprise broke out across his face when he laid eyes on the armored figure.
When Momonga alighted softly on the ground, Mare came scampering over, skirt fluttering. Argh, I can almost see underneath. Not that Momonga had any interest in seeing, but he did wonder what was going on under there.
“L-Lord Momonga, w-welcome! I m-most humbly th-thank you for coming!”
“Mmm… Mare, you don’t have to be so scared and don’t feel like you have to rush around. If it’s hard for you, I don’t even mind if you drop the formalities…when it’s just the two of us, at least.”
“I-I can’t do that, not toward a Supreme Being. Sis ought to do better, too. W-we can’t be so impolite.”
He didn’t really want to make children stand on ceremony, but… “Is that so? If that’s what you’ve decided, then I have nothing further to say. Just know that I don’t mean to force you, Mare.”
The Undead King Page 12
