Chapter 2 Misunderstanding

Ainz mentally cursed, feeling his non-existent pulse rise with alarm.

He panicked. The emotional suppression activated and forced him to calm down. Then he panicked again. This was repeated a few times before he was finally calm enough to think something other than: how did it end like this?!

Because, seriously, what the hell happened that made them reach this exact point? There was suddenly an enemy that was of his same level, could control those around him and extract information from them, and had already gotten knowledge about the farm's existence—

Could this be the person that brainwashed Shalltear?

He asked as much out loud. Albedo refuted that theory, but even as she listed off the reasons, Ainz couldn't fully dismiss the possibility.

After all, Albedo's analysis was based on what they knew about how Yggdrasil worked. There was no guarantee that this world worked in the same way. It was entirely possible that the people of this new world could have completely different skills and limitations in these matters.

It could, also, be the work of a World item. Wasn't that the most probable scenario? And this dangerous individual was currently alone unsupervised in Aura's fortress!

They needed to act, as soon as possible. The more time passed, the more probable it was for Jim to escape and that would be a complete disaster. They couldn't afford to lose sight of such a dangerous threat, not before they had gathered enough intel at least.

What if Jim was another player? Even worse, what if he wasn't alone? What if the man belonged to another Guild? A single slip could mark the beginning of a Guild War between them and Ainz couldn't be too sure Nazarick would come on top.

Perhaps he wouldn't have thought so negatively if the World items hadn't disappeared from the treasury, but with them gone, only two had remained: The Throne and the red orb Ainz always had equipped under his ribs.

With only these… their chances of victory if this came down to a Guild War decreased considerably.

What should he do?

…what would Harry do?

The thought made his inexistent stomach clench painfully. His mind went back to that day, when midnight struck and Harry abruptly vanished without even finishing his sentence — they had been reminiscing about how the Throne room came to be — and Momonga had almost suffered a heart attack when Albedo and Jarvis suddenly cried out, almost agonizingly…

Ainz's first order had been to desperately search every centimeter of Nazarick, trying to locate Harry. It was only when that didn't bring any results that he had ordered Shalltear to go outside, clinging to the idea that — maybe, for some reason, — Harry would be just out of the Tomb.

He hadn't been.

Harry had vanished, while the rest of Nazarick had been transported to a place completely different to their own swamp, and the reason remained a mystery. It didn't make any sense, since they both had stayed until the server shutdown; what made Harry disappear, leaving Ainz alone to run the guild? Wasn't he dealing with enough already? Hadn't he suffered enough loss already?

Why take away from him his only remaining friend?

Another wave of forced calmness went through him. He internally chastised himself, this was not the time to lament his loss. Mourning wouldn't take them out of this mess, he needed to think of the best way to deal with this situation.

Should he ask for the Guardians' opinion?No, if he did that, he wouldn't be able to send the most capable person in terms of combat.

That person was Ainz himself.

In all honesty, Ainz thought that his ability to adapt to unknown situations was unmatched within the Great Tomb of Nazarick, since he was the only one with combat experience in PvP (Player vs Player) and PK (Player Killer) scenarios.

Thus, he mentally examined the benefits of going personally to confront someone that may be another player. Obviously, if Ainz as the Guildmaster went in person, it would be a clear sign of his sincerity, just like a company manager personally going to another firm to conduct negotiations. Furthermore, Ainz's perspective was different from that of his subordinates— who tended to view those outside of Nazarick as inferior forms of life— so going himself was probably the best option if he wanted to negotiate and establish diplomatic relations.

Plainly stated, the most sensible action would be for Ainz to go alone. However, if Jim really was an enemy player here, it would also be the most foolish move he could make. Ainz would need to have a numerical advantage nearby, bodyguards that could buy him time to ensure he could get away to safety if the situation called for it…

Still, if this ended in a battle and the enemy had a world item, then there was only one course of action to take. After all, Ainz was the only one that could have one equipped now.

"A World item won't affect the holder of another World item. I will go first," Ainz declared in a tone that didn't accept any objections, but still hurried to add, "Albedo, you'll coordinate from here. Nigredo and Pandora will take over remote surveillance and recording, tell Pandora to keep switching spells and skills until one gets through the enemy's anti-detection magic, he can't be protected against everything. Demiurge, Jarvis, and anyone else capable of summons will leave the Tomb and work from a safe location, one that can't be easily spotted. Don't give the summons any intel that is not strictly necessary. This army will be in standby and is to dive in either if I request it, or if you determine I am in mortal danger. Also, Mare is to cover as many escape routes as possible, from a safe distance—"

Ainz delivered his orders as clearly and detailed as he could, while mentally choosing his own equipment and battle strategy. He needed to go meet with Jim as soon as he was able, it would be extremely dangerous to give the opposition too much time. If Nazarick assumed a passive stance, the enemy might as well choose the right moment to launch an attack, so it was better for Ainz to take the initiative and make the first step, although…

Hmph, as expected, this was a dangerous gamble. Still, there was nothing he could do about it.

Ainz would try to establish diplomatic relations with Jim — extending to his Guild if the man belonged to any — and, well, if that didn't go as planned and the male launched an attack, Nazarick could use it as casus belli and answer in kind. Whichever the case, the most important thing was to gather information.

Jim had stated that he didn't want to fight, so Ainz could only hope that he stayed true to his words.

(x)

Deciding to gather intel on where exactly this building was located, Harry apparated out of it.

The wood structure was huge, easily recognizable even from a long distance. Looking around, he saw some sort of forest… and nothing else in the immediate surroundings. No, that wouldn't do, this wasn't enough to locate this place in a map.

Turning on his heel, he apparated to the top of the, incredibly tall, building. The forest covered most of the visible area, he could see nothing but the variety of trees as they extended with no end on sight— no, wait, wasn't that a lake?

It was so far away that it was hard to notice, but now that Harry was focusing on it, he was sure it was a great lake, with a very particular shape. Huh, so this place was near the Great Forest of Tob? There were Trolls, Orcs, Lamia, Goblins, Lizardmen, Frogmen, Snakemen…. yeah, there were quite a few demi-humans here, if he recalled correctly.

This building was somewhere near the junction of the human borders then, close to the end of the Re-estize Kingdom and the beginning of the Slane Theocracy.

Well, at least no demi-humans seemed to be around, so there should be no casualties if this really ended up becoming a fight. That was unusually lucky, considering Harry's shit track record. Momonga had used to tease him about how his poor Luck Stats got them in trouble, and Harry was pretty certain his friend was at least partially correct.

Harry blamed his shitty luck for how he got discovered in the Empire, really. Merlin, it was such a stupid reason, and it was someone so problematic too…

Huffing self-mockingly at the memory, Harry nodded to himself — for now satisfied with his analysis on his surroundings — and apparated back to the ground. Now, all he needed to do was wait for—

"Harry!" A male voice screeched panickily in his head, so suddenly that it made him stop in his tracks, startled.

"…Gondo? What's going on?" Harry asked worriedly.

Gondo was a close friend he had made during his visit to the Dwarf Kingdom, so much so that he had gifted him a Communication Ring. The people of this world were distrustful of the [Message] spell, since its misuse had brought down quite a few nations before, so Harry had to be creative whenever he wanted to keep in touch with specific people.

…even more so after the awful mess that had happened two years ago. Harry had ended up blocking all [Message] attempts after that particular event.

"The Frost Dragons are attacking the place! They're starting to tear down the— eeaark!" Gondo shrieked, before exclaiming, "IT'S DOWN!"

Shit.

Harry had placed basic wards in some key places, but the whole damn mountain was a labyrinth of tunnels. The dragons had most likely found an unprotected spot. Then again, the proximity should have been enough to trigger a ward, to at least alert him, so why hadn't he felt anything of the sort?

Harry searched inwardly, trying to discern which line of the spiderweb was the one that connected him with the Dwarf Kingdom. Ugh, he had placed too many wards in too many places over the years, he needed to start anchoring them to runes instead of to himself. He couldn't keep up; it had reached the point where he was struggling to discern which was for what—

…huh? There was a place nearby that had a full set of wards. He didn't recall having placed such complete protections anywhere—

"HARRY!"

Shit, now was not the time to investigate. Heck, Harry couldn't even afford to stay and face whoever had been summoning the demons. The dwarves had absolutely no chance of survival against a bunch of Frost Dragons, and he was pretty sure they wouldn't be strong enough to bear Resurrection magic if Harry arrived even a few minutes late.

Inwardly cursing, he took out a self-fulfilling scroll and muttered his message to it, before pinning it to the side of the building in a manner that was easy to spot. Satisfied with his quick work, he turned on his heel and—

"—[Dimensional Lock]—"

—apparated away to the Dwarf Kingdom with an unintentionally loud Crack! Unaware of the restrictive magic that had been casted in the area precisely to prevent that.

(x)

In the end, Ainz hadn't even been able to meet face to face with the man.

"He teleported away, even after placing [Dimensional Lock]" Ainz repeated unnecessarily, still processing the words; still processing the fact that the enemy had escaped, with only a short note left behind.

"A-and [Delay Teleportation] [Unfair Duel] and [Age Seal]" Mare sobbed, hands twisting the end of his skirt worriedly.

If only they still had Depiction of Nature and Society in their possession… that World item would have been able to seal the target into a closed-off space, converting the real world into a painted landscape to prevent the enemy from escaping.

Ainz wondered, not for the first time, why the World items had disappeared, why Harry would ask Albedo and Aureole Omega to hand over their— no, now was not the time for this.

"Mare," Ainz said softly, but the dark elf still flinched, "this is not your fault, you did all you could. This is probably the effect of this world's magic, one that didn't exist in Yggdrasil. Something unique to this world— something that man must have learned here."

There was no longer any doubt in his mind that Jim was a player. The note he had pinned to the building was a short, "Something came up, gotta leave. Let's talk later," but the most important detail was that it was written in Japanese.

Ainz had no way of knowing that Harry's self-fulfilling parchment would show its message in a language its first reader could understand, and that it had been written in Japanese since one of Ainz' summoned Elder Lich had been the one to open it — a measure that was taken in case the scroll was a trap, and contained harmful magic — so, as far as Ainz was concerned, the man had written it in Japanese.

Mare let out a small, shaky sigh, but still looked ashamed at his own perceived failure. Not wanting the child to dwell on that, Ainz cleared his throat and continued.

"Rather than focus on this, let's go over the intel we have managed to gather. Demiurge, you can start," Ainz said with a slow hand gesture that he had practiced for hours in front of the mirror, until he got it to look regal enough.

"I hear and obey," the demonic guardian bowed politely, before starting to list off his findings. After him came the deductions of Albedo, Pandora, Nigredo, Mare, and Jarvis.

The overall picture wasn't a good one.

Jim could garner knowledge from the creatures he took control over. The limitations in terms of how many he could control at the same time, of which levels or races, and just how much knowledge he could get from them were unknown. Jarvis had requested to leave the use of his zerglings as the last resource, in case the domination of a zergling could allow the enemy to infiltrate the hive-like mind link, which would end up reaching the Overmind, Jarvis. Ainz inwardly shuddered at the possibility — why hadn't he considered that? — and agreed.

Jim could play with his presence, making himself appear as low-level even when he was not — Demiurge was convinced Ainz had already known that was possible in this world, how had he reached that conclusion?! Was it something he had said? Give me a break! — which allowed Jim to easily slip away from their notice, if they didn't pay enough attention. After all, why look twice at a passing ant?

The robes Jim wore where those of a magic caster, and probably were Divine class. Still, without seeing him fight, Ainz wouldn't say for sure that Jim focused only on sorcery. There were some job classes, like the Magic Knights, that could equip both, robes and armors, be sorcerers and warriors at the same time, although they ended up being unable to specialize in either field. The weapon Demiurge had seen was a simple, very weak-looking wand made of wood that was probably only Relic class or so. He had put it away once the Evil Lord arrived after all… it was probable that he could only use it against low and mid-tier enemies.

Still, Demiurge had said that the man looked at ease in front of the Level 85 summon, so perhaps he was confident if it was only one foe, but didn't want to risk fighting against multiple enemies? Or maybe fighting against demons just happened to correspond with Jim's specialty?

There were two main types of characters in Yggdrasil. There were those specialized in a particular field, and those whose abilities were evenly distributed. In the first case, even if they obtained information from an enemy, they would have difficulty dealing with it if the information did not correspond to their specialty. In the second case, it was possible that they could deal with their enemies, but due to the uniform distribution of the abilities they possessed, such countermeasures against them wouldn't be infallible.

Of course, there could be people like Ainz who knew many spells and who possessed many objects left behind by his comrades, and who were therefore able to adapt to circumstances, or people like Touch Me, with unfairly high skills, but that was the exception to the rule.

Maybe if Jim's specialty was only against demons— no, assuming that would be careless of him.

Jim was human and a fellow player that knew Japanese, but had probably been in this world for much longer that Ainz, since he seemed able to use magic different from the one in Yggdrasil. This was the most important fact. If Ainz could, he would rather be in good terms with him, to gather knowledge without creating unnecessary conflict… but, well, if it couldn't be helped, then having him interrogated as a prisoner should also work. The important thing was to gather intel and strengthen Nazarick, the methods to achieve that weren't really relevant.

Although if Jim was also part of another guild, Ainz couldn't act carelessly— ugh, they just didn't have enough information. All they could do now was prepare for the second encounter.

"Judging by his note, he may intend to go back to Aura's fortress at a later time. Let's prepare the area accordingly." Doing so would be incredibly stupid from Jim's part, since Ainz could place all sort of traps and defenses in the area, but perhaps the man was confident enough in his non-Yggdrasil magic to overlook such scenario? Or had a World item that may cover for said threat?

His stomach hurt just by dwelling on the possibilities. The unknown really was terrible. Without understanding that magic's limitations… it could cost them anything. It could cost them everything. The risk was unmeasurably high, but it was one they had no option but to take, since it would be worse if they were caught unaware later. It was better to do it on their own terms.

For now, everyone that was outside had been ordered to return. Sebas, Solution, Cocytus, the zerglings that had been lurking around certain areas of the Re-estize Kingdom, the demons that worked in Demiurge's farm in scroll production, the pets Aura had in the Great Forest of Tob. The only one that wasn't preparing to come back was—

"Ainz-sama," Narberal's [Message] reached him, almost as if he had summoned her with his line of thought.

He needed to temporarily pause his adventuring mission, at least until Jim was taken care of, one way or another, but he needed to give it a proper closure if he didn't want his efforts — the network and reputation he had earned — to go to waste. Thus, Ainz had had no option but to leave Nabe in the Inn, to take care of things in his stead until he returned.

"I can hear you. What is it?"

"Yes. There is someone requesting an audience with the adventurer Momon," Narberal stated with no discernable emotion, "the Adventurer's Guildmaster is acting as intermediary."

Ainz internally groaned. If the Guildmaster was interfering, then whoever wanted to talk with Momon was someone very well positioned. Influential. Exactly the kind of contact he would have loved to add to his network, if it was under more favorable circumstances.

"…what do you know about the requester?" Ainz should take note of that person, so he could properly apologize at a later date for not taking their request.

Or for taking too long to accomplish their request. Perhaps he could use it as an excuse to have Momon out of town for an extended period of time.

"Some sort of renown warrior called Jim."

Ainz froze. He would have cursed out loud if his emotional suppressor hadn't activated, but in the end, panic receded and gave space to gut-clenching anxiety.

"That bastard," he hissed, drawing the attention of the NPCs in the room, "how did he do it?"

How had he managed to link the scroll-production farm with the adventurer, Momon? Did this mean he already knew about what linked both parties together? About Ainz Ooal Gown? About the Great Tomb of Nazarick? About his precious NPCs?

Had they been dancing in the palm of his hand all this time?!

(x)

Harry was leaning against a wall in the restaurant-bar that was inside the luxurious Inn, calmly waiting for the adventurer Momon to arrive.

After the Frost Dragons were taken care of, Harry had stayed to diligently work on stronger wards — this time linked to the surroundings with runes, instead of to himself — that could manage to cover a wider area. Hopefully there were no blind spots this time around, and the Dwarf Kindom would stay nice and safe. He needed to put stronger ones once he had more time to do so.

Once that was done, Harry had decided to go back to the Abelion Hills, to remove his current wards and repeat the process of placing a new set with runes. He had yet to confront the Summoner of demons, and the last thing he needed was having the demi-human alliance wiped out for his carelessness.

It was just as Harry placed the last ward that one of the Centaur's Bards had made an off-handed comment about a new adamantite adventurer, someone he had heard about in his last travel.

Someone going by Momon.

Momonga had never been particularly good with names. The guild name "Heteromorphic Zoo" still made Harry inwardly snort, whenever he recalled that particular memory.

Then again, Harry was probably just jumping to conclusions. After all, he had only been five years here, and players weren't supposed to arrive in between such short year-gaps. Every two centuries was the norm, from what he had gathered, so the possibility of this being Momonga was low. It was, most likely, just an unfortunate coincidence.

Still, it was one he had decided to look into before reassuming his dealings with the Summoner of demons. After all, adamantite adventurers weren't known to stay put in a single place, so it was better if Harry got him before the dark warrior left E-Rantel.

Besides, his "Jim" character was the one he used when acting as a Worker — people like adventurers but that weren't officially enrolled in the Guild — so he already had the right visage. He only had had to change out of his robes, equipping a golden armor and grabbing his weapon, a lance that also served as a magical staff of sorts.

His "Jim" lancer guise had been the first character Harry had fucked up. Having just arrived to this new world, the lance had earned him a lot of unwanted attention — how was he supposed to know Divine class weapons weren't common? — and he had gotten a lot of proposals of all kinds — and he really meant all kinds — as the Re-estize Kingdom tried his damnedest to anchor him to the nation.

In the end, Harry had been able to bullshit his way to freedom, and the events after that mess were surprisingly fortunate, so he had chosen to keep the character instead of inventing a new one.

Still, lesson learned, he chose a low-tiered armor to compliment his lancer guise instead of anything that would call for even more attention. People already thought Harry had some country's treasure as a weapon, there was no need to add more to the list.

Thus, with the lance tied to his metal-covered back, Harry analyzed the few people gathered in the bar, entertaining himself by trying to determine their respective professions. No one dared to approach him, although a young boy with short, bowl-cut blonde hair that covered half his face kept stealing glances at him, in a way that wasn't particularly discrete.

The kid was dressed in ragged work clothes that Harry recognized were used for potion making, so his profession wasn't difficult to guess. Harry nodded at him, ignored the embarrassed "eak!" and moved over to analyze other patrons.

Around an hour later, just when Harry was starting to consider leaving, heavy armored steps resounded from the bar's entrance. A warrior dressed in a black, full-body armor entered his field of vision, the adamantite plate tinkling softly with the movement.

Momon was alone — wasn't he supposed to have a female teammate? — and his movements were stiff, hands closing into fists for short moments before relaxing again. He was wearing a helmet, so Harry couldn't see any expressions, but he got the feeling that the adventurer was seriously bothered about something.

"You must be Jim," a deep, baritone voice — that didn't sound anything like Momonga — greeted him with an incensed undertone. Yap, something must have seriously pissed off the bloke.

The voice was different, and Momonga wasn't the kind of person that would make another wait for a whole hour, and then not apologize for making them wait. His friend was overly polite with everyone, always trying to avoid unnecessary conflicts. Reserved and paranoid, he wouldn't go around with a bad attitude making needless enemies…

No, Momon really couldn't be. Harry felt stupid for getting his hopes up.

"Correct. Nice to meet you, Momon," Harry said with a light nod and a polite smile. Neither gesture was returned by the warrior in front of him.

"Where did you get that?" the adventurer asked instead, making a hand gesture towards his lance.

Harry internally huffed. Momon wasn't the first to inquire, but it was bothersome to explain the full cover story each time, so he tried to shrug the matter off.

"Found it in a land far away— or, well, more like earned it. It's rightfully mine, if that's your concern," Harry summarized simply with a lazy gesture.

The worst kind of people — that believed could get away with it — tended to try to dig for information on where he 'found' his weapon, and then try to claim it was, somehow, an heirloom of their family or of their country, insisting Harry ought to hand it over. It was an old dance he didn't feel like doing, so it was better to keep things short and vague.

For a second, Harry could swear he felt killing intent emanating from Momon, but it was gone before he could fully register it.

"I see," Momon said simply, fists clenching — what the hell was wrong with this bloke? — before the man untensed again, "it seems I have made an unnecessary question."

"No— uh, no problem," Harry replied to the unapologetic statement, momentarily at loss of what to say. Yikes, no way this was Momonga, that much was certain… which meant it was time to improvise a request. Clearing his throat in a vain attempt to dispel the obvious animosity, he continued, "and, uh, thanks for coming to hear my request. I just wanted to—"

"Wait," the dark warrior interrupted him, and Harry was momentarily tempted to kick him in the shins, "not here. Let's go."

As if that was supposed to explain everything, the adventurer turned and started to walk out of the Inn. Harry sighed exasperatedly, but still jogged to catch up, asking, "where to?" with the tone of someone that wanted nothing more than to go back home already.

"A larger area of course. You must know, I won't accept the request without trying out your strength first," Momon said as if such a thing was obvious, and Harry threw him his best 'excuse you, what the hell' look.

"Is that… so. Guess I'll be taking back my request then," Harry muttered uneasily, not understanding shit and not wanting to try anymore. He had already confirmed this person wasn't Momonga, there was no need to keep up appearances at this point.

Momon abruptly stopped in his tracks, so Harry had to move to avoid bumping into him. In an instant, the warrior turned to look at him, still emitting a dangerous aura, and—

"I insist," Momon replied with steel determination, placing a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that somehow managed to feel threatening, "it's not every day that I can have a friendly spar with someone on my level, after all."

…oh.

So that was it? Momon was used to having the spotlight in terms of strength and felt the need to prove himself against Harry? That was childishly stupid!

Harry wanted to decline. He still needed to go confront the Summoner, and then he needed to go checkup the place that somehow had Harry's most powerful wards, enjoying a full protection. He didn't have time for this nonsense.

Momon's gloved hand squeezed his shoulder, denting the low-level armor.

…on the other hand, Momon was the kind of person he really couldn't get along with, and knocking him down a peg or two shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. It would also serve as an outlet for the disappointment of not finding Momonga.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Harry agreed with a strained, thin smile.

They stared each other down for a small eternity. It was on.

(x)

That's not yours. That's Harry's. That's not yours.

Ainz's anger had erupted the second he saw the familiar lance in hands of someone that was definitely not its rightful owner. He had taken one look at it from a distance, a little more than an hour ago, and stepped away instead of going into the Inn.

He had Narberal use [Message] to instruct Nfirea to go in his stead, to make sure the man didn't leave the Inn while Ainz prepared himself for battle and the NPCs arranged the pre-selected area.

…that lance.

Every time he thought about it, he got more and more furious. Although the feeling had been suppressed in an instant like all his intense emotions, the murderous rage still had spiked up frequently during the whole conversation with Jim, so much so that it had been a miracle that he didn't end up throwing his careful plan off the window and attacked him on the spot.

Harry would never leave his main weapon behind; something must have happened to him. Harry, if he— if he fought and lost, if he was— if Jim or anyone had done anything to him—

I earned it. It's rightfully mine.

IT'S NOT. GIVE IT BACK. GIVE HARRY BACK.

His emotional suppression activated three times consecutively, and even then, he could feel a calm, cold fury crawling right under his nonexistent skin.

Any hopes of avoiding conflict, of avoiding a potential Guild War went down the drain. He would have this son of a banshee imprisoned and tortured until he spilled what had happened to his friend, if it was the last thing Ainz did.

He was fighting for Harry's sake now.

Barely managing to contain his bloodlust, Ainz continued to stride forward.

AUTHOR NOTE:

They both think they have everything figured out and are not happy with their findings. My, oh my~

Not gonna lie, writing misunderstandings is fun as heck, I now understand why Maruyama (Overlord's author) does this to Ainz all the time. The way things develop in a manner that is both, incredibly lucky and at the same time terribly condemning is GREAT.

Hope you liked it! Happy reading, dEBB987.