Letting the ring transport him as Momonga looked to the ceiling, he phased into existence again before the gateway to his "dressing room". Dressing room, however, would be a strange way to look at his personal armoury.
Upon entrance, he found himself in a miniature throne room. The beautiful gothic architecture reflected well with the shape of his armour. With his first step, his foot impacted against a pressure plate in the pitch black floor. The high walls around him hissed and creaked, and panels slid up to reveal intimidating statues adorned with the most luxurious and beautiful armors imaginable. With his second step, the second floor of armors was revealed. With each step, more and more golems were unveiled until he reached the throne.
Its back did not reach high, compared to the grandiose of the lemegeton. Several mechanical arms and machines were embedded to the floor and throne, and Momonga sat back into the machine. Immediately, the limbs reached to clamp themselves on his armour, driving wrenches through the impossibly fine creases of the plate. As the pieces loosened, mechanical arms began to lift them off his shoulders, revealing smooth dark flesh.
His glowing red eyes shone brighter as the helmet came off, revealing the two gigantic bones that were his horns. They were not snake-like, but appeared bulky, completely contrasting his pitch black flesh; endless strands of shadow black made up his natural armour. With a final hiss, the armor disappeared in a flash into the player's inventory.
In YGGDRASIL, suits of armor required an assistant to equip, unless [Quick Change] crystals were used. Most players hired servants in their player homes to help them, but there were always other options. Some players with more… frowned upon tastes might use maid servants to do this. Many items, including cash shop purchases, allowed for users to easily equip suits of armor as well.
Momonga chose the expensive steampunk dresser to fit in with the gothic architecture of the tomb, as well as the armor golems stationed in his player home.
Narberal had finally figured out where Momonga was, judging by her sudden appearance. She followed him as Momonga stepped from the throne in only his race armor.
This is sort of embarrassing, I guess. The stinging thing from earlier is constantly working to calm me down.
Dosed on a dozen emotional suppressants, the lord of Nazarick stood there, motionless before the ground beneath him began hissing. A larger halo before the throne began glowing white, and the two stepped onto the ring. They began descending a moment later into complete darkness.
Momonga hadn't gone through the rooms in the correct order. The armor room was connected to his suite so that he could be battle-ready as soon as he spawned in beside his bed. Then, a golem would bring up any gear he called for from his personal storage rooms through the elevator.
I feel like someone pretending to be rich and showing off a bunch of useless toys to my friends...
And that feeling was more than justified as he peeked at Narberal's ever-cold and most likely unimpressed gaze.
I came here to test this world's rules. Let's not delay this any longer.
If there were other players, Momonga thought, it would be best to know how damage work here.
Turning to a rack of wands and staves, Momonga carefully retrieved a [Wand of Heal]. The wand contained the sixth tier spell [Heal], which was only effective up to level sixty. Anything further and the ability could not even heal a single hit's worth of health.
Focusing his mana, he let the circuits run into the wand. He felt a jolt of electricity in his arm as the wand clattered to the ground, eliciting a startled expression from Nabe.
I can't use a priest's gear, as expected.
Returning the item to its spot, Momonga picked a Legacy tiered staff he looted from a wizard who thought Nazarick was a regular mid-leveled dungeon. She paid the price for it.
The eye that served as the gemstone of the staff would not open unless a wizard of the appropriate levels used it. Momonga closed his eyes and searched into the depths of his body.
[Champion's Expertise]
A silent cast of the skill was all that he needed for the staff to activate. It boosted his low magical power and brought a shiny purple glow to his skin.
It was not necessary to mutter any incantation to cast a spell or skill, and being a frequent PvP and PK player, Momonga never announced his attacks unless the team would benefit from doing so. [Champion's Expertise] allowed for its user to temporarily gain access to any item outside of their class for 13 seconds, once an hour. There existed an alternative; it allowed the user to use three items outside their class every hour.
Momonga had not chosen the other option. The ability complimented his never-ending assault philosophy better. It just meant he had less healing potential.
This choice, however, allowed him to use items that would immobilize the enemy first, meaning he could use much more items.
It was one of the key skills for winning in the World Championships. It was awarded to anyone who won their first matchup. While overpowered skills and items awarded to participants only sounded rather unbalanced, the world champion grade players were rare enough that it was not a problem. Only twelve players were allowed to participate every season, after all.
At least, that's what the devs tell everyone. They just bribe the champions to not participate in future regionals or world tournaments.
Humming with satisfaction, Momonga made a checklist of all his viable abilities, finding the exact motion he needed to feel in his mind to activate them.
His interest landed on two particular skills. Reading over their abilities, Momonga decided to test them out.
[Manifest Swordsman's Dream]
A pair of massive blades flashed into existence in his hands. Black as the darkness itself and adorned with a sinister edge and tip, the sword appeared unwieldy but intimidating.
The blades were built-in with a dual link and several powerful stats, around a [Legacy] tiered weapon's level. There were no spells of any kind embedded, as he was not a vampire hunter or cleric knight. It was just a pair of blades with static power, unable to grow.
Peering into his inventory, a wave of blue mana washed over him, cloaking the player in expensive jet-black armor. Momonga stared at the less intimidating but more dashing version of his armored self.
The armor was gifted to him by an unusually powerful mage in the early days of the game. The human mage was already level 60 by some unknown means, while most of the players barely hit 40 at the time. The benevolent man carried Momonga's public raid team, gifting them magically created gear.
The downside to these items was that they were worthless when the player base reached the level required for the skill. They could also not be sold on any official trading platform or to NPCs.
That actually turned out to not be the case, Momonga noted. He spent some time testing the rules when he discovered that there was no longer a trading system with rules— much closer to reality.
"Hold up!" His eyes widened.
Momonga retrieved his exchange box, setting the item down on one of the workbenches. He quickly created another blade, randomizing its stats before depositing it inside the box. He waited with excited breath.
…
And handfuls of coins spilled out of the box.
"Nice." Momonga quipped, quoting autistic people.
The guild master watched as the coins flashed blue before depositing themselves in the guild reservoir, a joyful smirk coming over his demonic features.
Well, as close to a smile as one could get with a creature that did not even have a mouth. Or nose. Or ears. Or hair for that matter.
If this is the case then monster summons should drop their gear as well. Now we have an exploitable source of income!
"Narberal, I will be absent for a moment to collect my thoughts."
"My Lord, the guards are waiting for you outside." The maid calmly informed.
Momonga saw his eyes flash in the mirror before him. "Spare them the trouble. I simply wish to take a walk."
Narberal began tearing up. "I-I beg of you My Lord. If some intruder wished to do you harm, it will be our duty to perish as meat shields."
He dismissed the servant with a wave of his hands. "A foolish waste of resources. I understand your concern… or could it be that you doubt my combat abilities?"
The maid had a terrified expression on her face unfit for her character. "I-of course not, My Lord."
"Then there is no need for a bodyguard at this time. If it comforts you, I shall leave in my armor."
Dismissing the set he had made himself, Momonga returned to don his gear.
While it pained him to treat the creations of his friends— their children, with such attitude, Momonga had to endure if he didn't want to become a slave to their desires. The player saw their fanatical devotion as a double-edged sword. They might take everything he said as law, which would no doubt lead them to defeat from the misinterpretation of his words. On the other hand, having servants that were utterly devoted would mean he didn't have to worry about anyone unconsciously or consciously trying to undermine him.
No doubt the dream of any manager.
Sighing, Momonga walked up the steps of one of the hidden entrances. His [Master Key] disabled any friendly traps in the area, but they would not do any harm to him anyway since it was on the first floor. The area was designed to lure noobs who didn't know what they were in for. Standard low-tier traps littered the halls unless anyone had the misfortune of meeting Kyouhukou or any of the… less pleasant NPCs.
His view of the sky was disturbed when his demon senses picked up several of his kin standing guard. One of the four presences felt familiar…
"Demiurge?"
The archdevil's three generals kneeled at the sight of their master, and the mastermind quickly followed.
"Lord Momonga—"
"Call me Momon."
The demon froze, then chuckled. "I see. As usual, My Lord, your attention to detail is impeccable."
What's he talking about now? I just plan to use this form to play hero and gather more information.
While he didn't know anything about the world yet, he could already theorize that it was going to be very similar to the game itself. That said, going in an alternate form would be best.
Confused, the player stepped forward.
"I'm afraid I can't let you leave without an escort, My Lord. Forgive this lowly servant for his selfishness…"
As expected, he saw right through me.
Sighing, the guild master left without another word. "Just one, then."
He could hear the servants getting up to leave and the light steps of Demiurge heading after him.
I've got to find a way to turn this demon sense thing off. A sixth sense is not as comfortable as I thought.
Staring into the skies, Momonga tried to forget about everything. About the questions and the anxiety in his mind. His eyes eventually turned to a black spot in the skies.
"I presume that is the scouting party, Demiurge?"
"Indeed, My Lord."
"What stealth abilities were chosen?"
"We used servants with racial abilities of flight and [Perfect Unknown], My Lord."
Momonga nodded. That would have been what any experienced player would do.
"Then I hope they will not be bothered if we join them." Momonga decided, sending a [Message] to one of the Eight Edge. The arachnid assassin stepped out of the dimensional gateway a moment later, and bowed to his master, before being called upon by his name.
"My Lord?"
"Use you [Assassin's Link] skill on Demiurge and me. That will be all."
As the arachnid left, Demiurge casted [Perfect Unknown] on his master and himself.
The preparations were complete, Momonga announced. He took his eyes off the beautiful moon and twitched before pitch black wings sprouted from his back. He turned around to see Demiurge morphing into a frog-like demon with insidious wings covered in slime.
He turned back. Momonga did not like most of the more… disgusting races of YGGDRASIL. If there was a monster he liked, it had to have features that at least looked cool. That said, he also didn't mind a good Lovecraftian horror. Monsters were just… not as comfortable to around. One of the major reasons he stuck around with the guild was because of all the disgusting and intimidating heteromorphs that had normal monotone voices.
I don't know why, but it was so ridiculous to me in the beginning.
He breathed in heavily.
Oh, that's right. The air is also clean enough to breathe without lung implants. Was this what it was like back in the early 21st century?
He was amazed and a little ashamed of himself at the same time for not appreciating the quality of the air.
I suppose I'll have to put down anyone that tries to burn coal or oil, then.
He quickly dismissed the idea.
If this world is as strong as around Midgard, then I should be high on the tier list. Soldiers in Midgard are only 80 at most, and with the ridiculously unbalanced level scaling, only world enemies and Divine enemies would impede my goals.
Level scaling was… He didn't know how to put it exactly, but it was as ridiculous as it could get. The gap between levels was large enough that a level 100 should be able to duel 3 level 95 players without a problem, even if the three had access to over tier spells.
Most of Nazarick's defenses came from the large sums spent on the traps that would kill even level 100 beings and the endless waves of level 80-95 mercenaries. The mercenaries and NPCs were boosted by special items in the dungeon that would bring their level up to 100.
The other option, of course, was a guild-exclusive item that would bring up the powers of players while they were in the guild hall. Nazarick never chose this option, as most of its players were salarymen and therefore unable to work on the game at night. Their two "night shift" players had left long ago, too.
Sighing in sadness, Momonga took flight. The wind rushed against his face, pulling him higher and higher into the clouds. As he broke through, he marveled at the sight. Taking off his helmet, Momonga felt the rush of wind around him and the chilly atmosphere.
Protected from the cold, the player was fascinated by the stars that flowed brilliantly. A nova blue galaxy was before his eyes— and he couldn't recognize a thing.
Momonga knew, according to recorded first-hand accounts, that the Milky Way galaxy in all its glory was visible to earth's children some time until the 1950s. After that, the light pollution clouded the stars one by one until it would be easy to see in the dark if it wasn't for all the smog and air pollution.
His lack of recognition terrified and excited him at the same time.
Does this mean I am in another galaxy? Another universe, maybe? Or could it be that another planet's view of the stars is different? All are plausible, yet none of them feel right.
As much as Momonga wanted to say that this was the result of some higher power, his former self still felt fear. What if this was some kind of simulation? A social experiment? He didn't have the answer.
If my body is still out there somewhere, drugged in a government lab or something— or maybe in a computer, turned into an AI, I hope they won't notice my birthmark.
Looking back at his ass again, he was relieved to find it no longer there.
"Demiurge, isn't this sky like a chest of jewels?"
"Indeed they are, My Lord. If you allow it, we servants of Nazarick will do all that we can to obtain this box of treasures for you."
"You are right, perhaps I came here to obtain this box of jewels… which I will use to decorate my comrades of Ainz Ooal Gown with."
The demons were silent for a moment, watching over the untainted lands.
"If the conditions are right, conquering this world might be enjoyable."
A/N: Sorry for everything being a copy of Overlord canon events for now. Some major events will always occur, but the fates of many characters will be different and a lot of things will be changed. I promise you the ending won't be anything you've ever expected.
Make sure to review and share your thoughts, I've had wonderful PM conversations with many reviewers last time. I received replies from most reviewers, so I won't need to post a response here. However, I can't contact guests!
On the subject of pairings Momonga is not the only main character (and no, not Climb or Gazef or some shit like that), so there will be a vote for who will pair up with bone padre.
Next chapter is done, but it's long as fuck since it includes the "battle" of Carne village, and I did not want to cut off the "fight" with the Sunlight Scripture.
Review!