GOD IS AN IDIOT
Chapter 13 – The Snake
The Struggle of Green vs. Orange became more aggressive with every moment. Soon after the mint-coloured dots had started amassing at Slane's northern border, the warm-coloured ones began to react and scurried from the scattered centres to meet the growing threat past their own lands. None of their strongholds could equal their enemy's numbers concentrated in Humanitas, and even together, the green dots severely outnumbered them – yet, what the orange ones lacked in heads, they made up in individual power.
The [Omniscience System] had, after weeks of tuning, further supplements with undead satellites, and his constant improvements to the magical code evolved to a level of sophistication where it could discern a wealth of information for even a singular life. The chance of a mere mortal escaping its gaze was virtually non-existent. It knew, for example, of Graza'show Brarr-Kr'ka the [Ursin]'s location down to the centimetre, registered his agitation at being so close to the 241 kins of his race for so long after the order of his lords to move south reached him, checked the filling of his bladder, his heart rate and blood-sugar, the slight limp in his left leg from a badly-healed wound, the dwindling fat stores in his lump due to a lack of free hunting grounds, – all these were already catalogued and distributed to the old guards of Nazarick just as it did for the 4.876.300 other sentient mortals living in the lands of the Argland Councils state; noting, evaluating, and storing their every movement and action day after day, with none aware of it.
They were as ignorant of the forces watching them as the Kingdom of Re-Estize was to the massive troops mobilized both beyond its southern and northern borders. The humans were not spared from his scrutiny, and were controlled just as much as the people of Slane, Baharuth, the Roble Holy Kingdom far to the west, the Dragon Kingdom south-east, the beastmen of the Albelion Hills, and all the other sentient, gifted souls squirming on the planet. There was no escape. For now, there was only merciful ignorance to the total loss of privacy.
His agents, first among them the Pleiades combat maids, were marked as red crosses, and controlled with [Omniscience]'s guidance every soul crossing the border of the Kingdom. They abducted and modified memories of every traveller, and sent them after a brief check back on their ways with select news he wanted them to have, so as to keep Re-Estize in the dark from the gathering storm just beyond its scope, while fanning agitation in both the Theocracy and dragon-ruled lands.
Sometimes, they would also bring him true morsels like that other deserter from Slane – one who did not leave service because she was forced to do so by him, but by her own volition. She was quite strong by human standards, and a pure monster deep inside. She would soon serve as an excellent tool of his, for the first track of green coming from the Crescent Lake had nearly reached Slane's capital Humanitas.
'It is finally time to meet the cardinals in person. Those six have been boiling in their own nervous sweat since Aura and Mare let their pet loose in the capital, and should now be just tender enough to swallow.' Momonga mused, disconnecting the system. His attention returned to the walls of his personal room. The luxury of the precious materials used to construct it were lost on him. Back on Earth, only the most elite could have afforded the heavy furniture made of dark, hard tropical wood which had become a relic of a better past, just like the black natural leather covering his comfortable armchair and the silken sheets of the gigantic bed.
They were pointless to Momonga. He slept no more – the room's always perfectly-mild temperature becoming irrelevant, since he felt no cold – and the soft ergonomic cushioning of his seat was unnecessary since his incredibly hard bones felt no pressure from his own weight, even when sitting on only a few corners of his pelvis and femur. As an undead of formidable might, all necessities of a living body and the pleasure of satisfying them with more than the bare minimum had been stripped of him, along with the flesh and skin. Although he could still smell and taste – by virtue of the same unnatural powers which allowed his empty eye sockets to see, and missing ears to hear – it was only a mental comparison to his fading mortal memories of the nutrition pastes, letting him appreciate the exquisite cuisine and drinks Nazarick offered its living inhabitants.
The only wealth of note in the room he cared for were the artful engravings in walls' dark stones, whose grates and edges had been accentuated with fine lines of gold. They depicted a skeleton with an uncanny resemblance to him, flanked at some distance on both sides by all the other members of Ainz Ooal Gown facing him. Strangely, he could no longer remember when he had added this modification to his personal room, or where he might have acquired the impressive piece of art in the first place.
It could not have been a direct copy-and-paste of the guild members' avatars, because though each and every one might have been easily identified, they all sported a lifelike flow and facial expressions Yggdrasil had not been programmed with in the first place. There had not been one byte of code describing the snarling fangs of goat-headed Ulbert Alaine Odle, or the permanent rage plastered on Warrior Takemikazuchi's face, and all the other monstrous members of the guild as they brayed to him; therefore, it had to be custom-made, and hence extremely expensive. But it also could not have been a gift of the developers for besting and claiming this dungeon, for they had not had all the members and equipment shown in the carvings at that time.
"Mein Herr, ich bringe euch die gewuenschten Schriftrollen." My lord, I bring you the scrolls you asked for. Pandora's Actor broke his contemplation. The Doppelgaenger stood in the door with a tablet on which he balanced 9 neat stacks of small papers, none larger than a little note. They shined golden from the sides, but the visible tops revealed their true pale-yellow color, encrusted corner-to-corner with fine-printed runes and sigils, each with such microscopic detail no mortal could simply copy them by hand.
As Momonga rose from his seat and accepted them, the fine structure he felt on the pages betrayed their true nature. It was not paper, but incredible thin parchment. Below the symbols, he could still see faint shadows of old tattoos, yet there were no pores, like the skin never had any body hair since birth.
'The [Elder Liches] of Ashurbanipal really did the best possible with the material Aura made. This work is truly astonishing, considering they were only Level 30 creatures in Yggdrasil. Despite their limited understanding, they replicated my instructions perfectly.' he thought, checking the scrolls for possible flaws. He found none.
He had watched Aura slaughter their first captives from the south, and found it curious how she never showed any sign of sympathy when slitting their throats despite being an elf herself, hanging them up to bleed dry and skinning and disassembling them afterwards. Granted, after disconnecting the Elf King from his network, they had lost almost all motivation and drive, but they still squeaked like desperate piglets when poked with a blade. In moments like this, he regretted having limited his studies of Nazarick's NPCs to their combat stats and abilities. Momonga knew almost all their strengths and weaknesses by heart, yet almost nothing about the background the other guild members had invested them with, and who now had become alive.
Only his own creation, Pandora's Actor, was no hidden chapter to him. He stood heel-to-heel with his arms behind his back at attention, because Momonga wrote his fascination for the old Wehrmacht in the [Greater Doppelgaenger]'s background. He envisioned him as the caretaker of Nazarick's Treasury, and thus decided he would be a meticulous collector and obsessive hoarder like himself, and it was Momonga's silly idea he would only speak German with rolling Rs and a rapid pace in his true form and had a fable for the dramatic, among other silly quirks.
It had been so easy as a human to blame other humans for the faults and misgivings, when they were apparently the only ones to blame.
But it did not apply to the people of Nazarick. They were who they were because their creators willed it, with no room of deviation by a third-party chosen existence. Powerful as they were, gifted with formed intellects and vast knowledge, they were still infants in their own way, innocent of any blame for their deeds. The only one truly fit to accept the responsibility and the judgment for Nazarick's actions was Momonga alone. Perhaps this was the reason why he still felt sympathy and loyalty to them, while he gave a rat's ass for the inhabitants of the New World.
"Entsprechen Sie etwa nicht euren Anforderungen, Herr? Ich hatte Sie selbst noch einmal mit euren Plaenen verglichen und fand keine Abweichung von der zulaessigen Genauigkeit. Auch Fraeulein Auras Pergamente passierten meine Qualitaetspruefung ohne Tadel." Are they not up to your requirements, lord? I compared them myself with your plans, and found no deviation from the acceptable precision. Miss Aura's parchment also passed all my quality checks without fault. P.A. inquired, already losing himself in his musings.
"No. They are just as ordered. That's not the issue."
"Was bedrueckt euch dann? Bereiten euch etwa die nationalsozialistischen Kommunisten im Sueden Kopfzerbrechen? In diesem Falle habe ich bereits Plaene ausgearbeitet für eine… endgueltige Loesung. Wenn ihr es verlangt werden wir sie in einem rasenden Marsch unter unseren Stiefeln zermalmen. Nur ein Wort, mein Herr, und wir vernichten Sie in einem beispiellosen Blitzkrieg. " What vexes you, then? Do you worry about the southern Nazi-communists? If so, I have already prepared plans for a… final solution. Ask, and we will crush them under our boots in a frenzied march. Just one word, my lord, and we will destroy them in a unprecedented blitzkrieg," P.A. presented his services of genocide like he was offering him canapés.
"That is nice of you, but Slane acts just as predicted. Erasing them is not in my interest."
"Es verläuft also alles nach euren Plänen?" So everything is proceeding as you planned?
"Perfectly so. No reason to worry. So far, everything occurs within expectations, and with these…" Momonga held up a score of the small scrolls barely larger than Post-Its. "...I can proceed to the next step."
"Es ist also soweit, dass ihr die Kardinaele kontaktieren wollt. Ich vermute das heisst die ersten Zeugen eurer Darbietung werden bald in Humanitas eintreffen. Was ich nicht verstehe ist, warum ihr so lange gewartet habt. Bitte nehmt es mir nicht krumm, aber waere es nicht klueger gewesen sich erst der Fuehrung zu praesentieren und dann im Elfenwald eure Macht zu demonstrieren? Ein erster Hammerschlag um den Sargnagel zu fixieren und dann ein zweiter, um ihn endgueltig reinzutreiben?" So the time to contact the cardinals has finally come. I guess this means the first witnesses of your show will arrive soon in Humanitas. What I do not understand is why you waited so long? Please, take no offense, but would it not have been wiser to show yourself to their leadership first, and then to demonstrate your power in the elven forest? A first hammer blow to fix the coffin nail, and then a second to drive it in?
Momonga let the stacks vanish into his inventory, and handed him the plate back when he answered. "That would have been, in fact, counter-productive to my designs."
"Aber ohne Vorwarnung werden die Kardinaele gar nicht genug Zeit haben, um eure Offenbarung gegenüber dem Volk zu rechtfertigen. Viele, sehr viele wahrscheinlich, werden an der Niederkunft eines neuen Gottes zweifeln." But without warning, the cardinals will not have enough time to justify your revelation to the people. Many, very many, will doubt the coming of a new god. P.A. objected
Momonga hummed while he reviewed his collection for a fitting attire for the occasion in his mind, and his creation continued with more vigour.
"Ich meine; wenn auf einmal eine alte Garde zu mir kommen wuerde und behauptete, das eine neuer, keine alter, nein, ein neuer Erhabener erschienen waere und die Herrschaft über Nazarick forderte, da.- da wuerde ich sie auf der Stelle zermalmen. Und jeden weiteren ihrer zehntausend Kameraden, selbst wenn es absurder Weise stimmen wuerde! Wenn die Massen keine Zeit haben, der Botschaft einer Stimme, der sie Vertrauen koennen, zu lauschen, werden sie sich alle gegenseitig tot schlagen." I mean; if suddenly an old Guard came to me and claimed a new – not an old – a new Supreme One had appeared and claimed rule of Nazarick, I… I-I would destroy it right there, and every other of its ten thousands comrade, even if it was true against all odds. If the masses have no time to listen to a voice they trust, they kill each other. P.A. rambled on, as he begun to walk back and forth in his parsing. "Ich las mal auf einem Item, es war [Cain's Regret] denke Ich, einen Spruch, der lautet 'Hass folgt der Liebe.'. Das wird ein wahnsinniges Blutbad, oh mein Schoepfer!" I once read on an item – I believe it was [Cain's Regret] – a saying which goes, 'hate stalks love'. It is gonna' be mad bloodbath, oh my creator!
P.A. Cried suddenly, "Mit jeder Sekunde in der ich die Szenarien durchspiele bleibt nichts als ein Scherbenhaufen von Slane zurueck. Ihr wollt sie gar nicht erobern, ihr wollt sie ausloeschen und muesst nicht mal einen einzigen Schuss abfeuern! Ihr habt diesen Krieg in einer einzigen Schlacht geschlagen und euer Opfer weiß es noch nicht einmal! Das ist brilliant!" In every scenario I think of, only a terrible mess remains by the end. You do not want to conquer them; you want to annihilate them, and you do not even have to fire a single shot. You have won this war in a single battle, and your victim does not even know it yet! This is brilliant!
"Or…" Momonga stopped him with a raised index finger. "Or, instead of letting the water boil over, we put on a pressure lid and let the whole contraption sizzle… till it blows up."
"Natuerlich, natuerlich, sehr gerne, wenn es euch erfreut, Lord Momonga, und was kommt dann?" Of course, of course; gladly, if it pleases you, Lord Momonga… and what comes then?
"Then, the endgame starts."
"Das Endspiel? Mein Gebieter, ich muss gestehen, dass ich mit diesem vagen Begriff nicht viel anfangen kann, da ihr uns Waechtern nie eure langfristige Absicht anvertraut habt." The endgame? My lord, I must admit I cannot fathom this vague term, since you never told us Guardians your long term intentions.
"The endgame. The end boss. The big-bad-boo. The term is rather clear, no?" Momonga mocked, threateningly raising his arms.
"Was denn für ein Endboss? Mein Schoepfer, Lord Momonga, wenn ihr von einer echten Bedrohung wisst so flehe ich euch an, sagt es uns Waechtern, damit wir euch schuetzen-" What endboss? My creator, Lord Momonga, if you know of a real threat, I beg you to tell us Guardians, so we may protect- P.A. started to grow agitated, but he stopped him in his tracks.
"Pandora's Actor. Give me now your full attention. Do I have it? …good. Now, try imagine a fiend – something like an evil copy of mine."
P.A. became very quiet, but after a brief moment, he shook his head. "Ich kann es einfach nicht. Es tut mir leid, aber ich schaff es nicht." I just can't. I am sorry, but I cannot manage to do so.
"I was expecting something along that line," mumbled Momonga to himself, before saying, "Okay, how about me, but I am controlled by a World Item which tells me I don't like Nazarick very much. Like, at all."
P.A. visibly shivered. "Ein Furcht erregender Gedanke." A horrifying thought.
"I know!" Momonga concurred. "And now, imagine me arriving several hundred years earlier than Nazarick in the world. Think of what you could do, given so much time at your leisure. So much time to hone your abilities, to accumulate mighty items, so many opportunities to shape society according to your own needs…"
"Wie der Elfenkoenig?" Like the elf king?
"Yes, but I am sure he was just an unwitting pawn. If he really was preparing all that time for my expected arrival, why did he confine himself only to the elven forest? So far, he was the most formidable opponent Nazarick detected in this world, easily on par with the might of even the old Dragon Lords we located."
"Aber es koennte auch sein, dass keiner von ihnen Willens für das Risiko eines Kampfes um die Vorherrschaft war. Ich hielt es eher für ein Gleichgewicht der Kraefte." But is it not possible none of them was willing to face the risk of a battle for supremacy? I thought of it as a balance of force.
"But no system is that stable for centuries unbroken. No, my gut tells me – figuratively of course – there is some other force at work, waiting for us to walk into its trap. If I had that time to prepare for an incoming enemy, I would remake the whole world into a trap for him. And the most obvious proof: The world is still standing."
P.A. obviously did not understand.
"We are in a world with numerous quite powerful beings: the Dragon Lords, the former Players… us, of course, and even some rare mortals from all kinds of races – most of which could easily destroy large cities, many whole countries. So many individuals filled with pride and arrogance, with their fingers on the triggers of pure destruction, while answering to no one.
The world only keeps spinning another day if everyone agrees to stay their hand. Each day, each year, each century. Yet, when you and I look outside of Nazarick, what do we find? Nations bickering, forests teeming with life, and no normal mortal concerned with the fate of the whole world.
Maybe it never occurred to you since you were made with considerable power, but in truth, this too-small world holds far too many chaotic elements of catastrophic property to allow a sane soul to bet on its continued survival."
"Lord Momonga, darf ich frei sprechen?" Lord Momonga, may I speak freely?
"Be my guest."
"Eure Worte stimmen mich traurig. Sie lassen mein Herz in Sympathy an seinen Lagern zerren, als muesste es auf einmal einen Tiger antreiben. Doch fehlt mir, wie ihr ja schon weise angemerkt hattet, die Erfahrung, um zu verstehen, wie ihr so pessimistisch von der Welt denken koennt. Mir kam diese Idee vielleicht desshalb nicht, weil ich nur das geordnete Zusammenleben der Diener Nazarick's kenne, aber damit existiert bereits ein Beweis, dass auch maechtige Individuen koexistieren koennen." Your words make me sad. They make my heart tear at its bearing, as if it had to propel a Tiger tank. Yet, I lack the experience to understand how one can think so pessimistically of the world, as you wisely mentioned. Maybe the thought never occurred to me because I know only the orderly society of Nazarick's denizens, but it proves powerful individuals can co-exist.
"You co-exist under my command, not under your own volition. I am the factor uniting you all. Do you honestly expect the Tomb to hold together, should I go missing? Don't forget you are unique among the Guardians. Your creator is also the Guild Master of Ainz Ooal Gown. In the absence of their own creators, the other inhabitants of the Tomb all bow to my rank..."
"Aber solltet ihr auch gehen erwartet uns hier auch ein Blutbad." But should you leave us, we face a massacre. P.A. understood. "Die Chance, dass wir uns gegen einander wenden wuerden sind leider sehr hoch." Chances are quite high we would turn against each other, unfortunately.
"Unfortunately, yes – and that is why I absolutely believe there has to be some force keeping all those parties in check."
"Und deshalb all das Chaos, das ihr anzettelt? Warum konsolidieren wir dann nicht lieber Nazarick's Kraefte und schaffen ein starkes Reich, um es gegen diesen Feind einzusetzen?" And that is why you create all that chaos? Why do we not instead consolidate Nazarick's forces, and create a strong empire to use against this enemy?
"All we find in this world has been a playground for the enemy for a very long time. It is his home turf, just as he needs it. In this environment, he can act as he pleases, so I'll level the field. Fuck to centuries of preparations of the enemy. Fuck to all his carefully laid out plans. Fuck to all he's built just to 'welcome' us. I'll burn it all down and start at ground zero, on even ground!
Although I have found not one trace of this enemy out there, this foe of incalculable power, I know it is waiting. The signs are plain to see, if one is aware of the possibility of its existence. We know for a fact inhabitants of Yggdrasil have been appearing in this world for centuries. The elf king, by his own words, 1200 years ago; the Six Gods of Slane, 600 years ago; the 8 Greed kings, 500 years ago; and so on.
Yet, where are they now? Either they are dead by all the historic accounts we had access to till now, or, in case of the Elf King, they did not do much but wait just for me. I am sure most of them were extremely powerful by the standards of this world, since all arrivals seemed to have tremendous impact on the course of history, yet strangely, fate saw to it almost each and everyone did not live very long past their arrival."
"Sie besassen nicht die Weisheit und die allumspannende Macht der Erhabenen, Lord Momonga. Sicherlich wird dies großzuegig zu ihrem Untergang beigetragen haben." They lacked the wisdom and almight of the Supreme Ones, Lord Momonga. Surely, this generously added to their doom.
"Yes, but you would have to say the same about yourself and the other Guardians, and I bet even without my presence, most of you would think very carefully about fighting another powerful Guardian. Especially when you have been gifted with so much power and potential. Few of you would squander that easily, and the same applies to the immigrants from Yggdrasil.
You'll find a lot of convenient coincidences when looking at history.
So five of Six Great Gods died of old age? Fluder Paradyn, a mortal from this world, limited to Tier 6 magic even after 200 years of study, managed a half-assed eternal youth spell, but they did not? And the god of death Surshana had no fail-safes ready for his defeat in a single battle? A guy who had led a nation for a hundred years is supposed to not have thought of some kind of back-up? That is bullshit.
And don't get me started on the 8 Greed Kings. These guys storm over the globe, almost exterminated the until then dominant race of the world, and then they squabble all to death with no survivor? By sheer chance, even the last two combatants managed to kill each other simultaneously. Who would have thought?
It all sounds like stupid, stupid, stupid coincidence. Just like some power is actively trying to rid the world of Players. Except for our little space elf, although I am not sure if he got spared because he was actually in space and not on the planet, or because he had his sights set on me.
There are just too many nonsensical patterns. The existence of Players here already hints at the presence of a powerful force at work, and this force maintains this improbable balance of the world and keeps every other threatening force in check, while staying in the shadows."
P.A. took his time, before he responded, "Ich kann nachvollziehen, wie das euch besorgen kann. In diesem Kontext erklaert ergibt eure Beobachtung Sinn, aber dennoch solltet ihr nicht ausschließen, dass es doch einfacher Zufall ist." I see how this might trouble you. Your observation make sense in this context, but you should not exclude the possibility of it being pure chance.
"Ha ha ha…" Momonga cackled very briefly. 'Oh, how I wished it was chance. Pure chance I, of all people, awoke as my game avatar. Pure chance this reality filled in all the missing gaps in Nazarick's history to make you, and the other Guards, not notice your true origin. Pure chance a place such as this even exists.'
'Pah! Chance.'
'What's the chance your custom NPC coming to life, and lectures you about the improbability of the existence of an extremely powerful end-boss? That is just absurd.'
'Yet it is kind of cute how P.A. tries to play a rational role. A shame he lacks my perspective; otherwise, I am sure he could offer some decent advice and support. Yes, with a little guidance and experience, he could become an exceptional leader. Rational, meticulous, dedicated, cold-blooded, without being unnecessarily cruel… and if there is one being in this world I can trust, it is him.'
"I hear your advice, but this… you can't understand for now."
"Dann entschuldige ich mich für meine begrenzte Sicht." Then I apologize for my lack of vision.
"Don't do that. You don't lack intellect, only experience, and I aim to correct that."
"Ihr meint…" You mean...
"Yes, I want you to accompany me to meet the cardinals." Momonga clapped P.A.'s shoulders, and could feel him becoming wobbly at once. "It will serve as a good lesson for you. I get to judge your abilities first-hand, and I can give you some positive critique."
"Ich werde euch stolz machen, Vater!" I will make you proud father!
'Say again?! '– "Say again?!"
For a second, P.A. was petrified, before he fell to his knees and his hands clasped, praying.
"Vater unser auf dem Throne, geheiligt werde dein Name.
Dein Reich komme, dein Wille geschehe,
Wie in Nazarick so auf der Welt.
Unser weitere Existenz erlaube uns heute.
Und bestrafe unsere Schuld,
wie auch wir bestrafen unsre Schuldiger.
Und fuehre uns mit Verruchtheit und erloese uns von den Schwachen.
Denn dein ist das Grab und die Kraft und Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit.
"Amen."
Father on the throne, hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom comes, your will be done.
As in Nazarick, so on earth.
Tolerate our continued existence and punish our sins,
As we punish those who sin against us.
Lead us with wickedness, and deliver us from the weak.
For the Tomb, the power and the glory are yours, now and forever.
Amen
'He made that up on the spot. There is no way something like that is circulating in Nazarick!'
Either P.A. was a perfectly devout follower who found no point of shame in his fanaticism, or he was a case-hardened actor who intended to carry the scene longer than the one doubting audience – Momonga – cared.
A long moment of contemplation later, P.A. rose under Momonga's blank stare.
"What's the point of a silent prayer when standing right in front of your god?"
"Kacke." Shit.
Just a few minutes later Momonga stepped outside the Tomb and the borders of Nazarick's anti-teleportation field. He decided to switch his usual dark robes for something brighter. The white tuxedo with black pants and bow-tie might have only been of [Legendary] class, but they still put everything the New World could produce to shame. They should serve well to impress the cardinals.
P.A. already stood at attention and saluted him, despite having spoken to him just a few moments ago. "Es ist alles bereit, Gebieter. Demiurge informierte mich, dass die Kardinaele sich gerade zusammengefunden haben und Sie scheinen unter großen Stress zu stehen." Everything is prepared, Lord. Demiurge informed me the cardinals just met and they appear to be under a lot of stress.
"Very good. Our present?"
"Genießt noch immer die Schleife. Ich nahm mir die Freiheit es ein wenig gegen Ersticken und Frost zu schützen." Is still enjoying the loop. I took the liberty of protecting it a little agaist suffocation and frost.
"Good thinking. Now, I want you to assume your [Overlord] form."
P.A. bowed, before his whole shape rapidly boiled up into gray foam, quickly setting into, at first glance, a perfect mimicry of Momonga's, clad in his divine gear. Just a second later, an imitation of his tuxedo also boiled to completion. Yet, despite P.A. almost absolute ability of mimicry, his copy was not perfect. Although they were identical down to the last fibres of their cloth and every measure and angle of Momonga's bones, it was like comparing two gems of identical cut, but one of perfect glass and one a unique diamond. Pandora could only imitate his original form before Momonga ascended to [End], because that racial level was an achievement class restricted strictly to Players. Seeing them standing side-by-side, even the most ignorant mortal could have pointed out the difference in the dark majesty P.A. exuded, and the uncaring entropy oozing from Momonga, but said mortal could only do so when they served as each other's reference.
Momonga waved his hand and turned his skull for a test, and P.A. imitated him so perfectly Momonga might as well was moving in front of a mirror.
'This is so creepy.' he thought, trying to surprise his creation with turns, spins, gestures, and even a duck imitation, but P.A. never slipped up once. Satisfied at last, he said, "This copy is most impressive. Your attention to the details is laudable."
"Thank you, Master."
"We will go to Humanitas by [Gate] and proceed to the cardinals. You will stay your hands until I tell you otherwise. For now, I just want you to stay at attention and watch carefully."
P.A. responded with a crisp salute, and both cast powerful stealth magic on themselves, including [Perfect Unknowable] and [Hidden Thoughts], before Momonga opened the [Gate]. One step through, and they were floating several thousand meters above ground outside the walls of Humanitas.
'"To your right."' Momonga [Message]'d P.A. when he saw the black rune-encrusted hull of the Doppelgaenger search for him. He still did not understand how P.A. or other casters of Nazarick failed to see the patterns of magic. '"Start by focusing on your own Mana flow from your soul. Collect your thoughts, and discard every sensation or idea not coming from your very inner being step-by-step."'
P.A. obeyed, and Momonga could see how he relaxed, taking a deep 'breath' and letting it out very slowly again. He gave him a moment, and then asked, '"What do you feel now?"'
'"... I feel... a potential..."'
'"Like a whole world on the edge of your thoughts?"'
'"...bleeding into reality..."'
'"Hold on to it. Immerse yourself in it, and tell me what you experience."'
'"It is... wild... chaotic... without reason. It is pure chaos."'
'"Is it really?"' Momonga asked, seeing the rune layers on P.A. shift and quiver with his concentration.
'"Yes. It is a complete mess- no, wait. It is not. They are not."'
'Good. He is getting closer…'
'"Lord Momonga, it is not a world of chaos – it is a chaos of worlds I am feeling!"'
'"The key is focus and attention. Reduce your experience further, and try diving into one of those worlds. Feel how this particular potential is brushing against our reality."'
'"I do…"'
'"Look for the edges where those realities collide. Each one is a different set of rules clashing with each other, and wherever they meet, you can discover the particular pattern of their interaction. By casting magic, we turn this whole idea inside-out. We form these clashing marks with our imposed perception of the world, and thus initiate the merging of base reality and a, until that moment, pure fictional dimension.
Now, I want you to cast [Resistance]."'
[Resistance] was one of the starting spells of every caster in Yggdrasil. It offered a minimal boost to physical and magical resistance, and was practically useless in combat to high level beings like them… but that was not its purpose this time.
'"Set all your senses, all your intent and mind on the difference between the before, and then… soak it all in."'
Normally, it would take a Level 100 magic caster barely a few picoseconds to activate the spell, but Momonga saw satisfied how P.A. took his time and iterated each fraction of the most primitive spell slowly. At last, the final layer appeared, and after another moment, P.A. answered calmly, "It is done. All my attention was focused on casting [Resistance]. My creator, I have committed this moment to memory like the day of my birth."'
'[Resistance]', Momonga now commanded and challenged his patience to the very limit, as he deliberately delayed the spell so it would manifest even slower than P.A.'s. The Doppelgaenger betrayed no reaction as he called forth the first element, and he did not at the 2nd and 3rd one, too. Neither at the 27th or 33rd one, but when he placed rule 34, P.A. twitched slightly. Peeked, Momonga set #35 and #36. As he created the swirls of #37, P.A. definitely turned his head.
'He is grasping it! Wooohooo! He is really getting it! This is so awesome!' Momonga cheered, and suddenly felt an intense wave of déjà vu dragging him with it. He was conquering the Great Tomb of Nazarick again, while laughing together with all 41 members of Ainz Ooal Gown simultaneously, despite already rising as the scourge of Yggdrasil, the [End].
Momonga was at a loss what all these moments had in common with the now. Was it a victory? A price? Perhaps an overlooked chain of cause and effect? He placed #38 as he lazy circled around P.A., and the Doppelgaenger followed his movements.
Momonga remembered his first paycheck and his first pubic hair right along… and realization hit him. The common theme of all those ones was pride.
He was amazed to discover pride in P.A.. It was a first time for him. Of course he had felt pride in many things before, as his memories attested, but even the pride in Ainz Ooal Gown was centred on the bond. He cherished the people, but there was still a fundamental difference to his feelings for P.A.. With Ainz Ooal Gown, his pride in his friends ended at the actions they did in the guild, but Momonga knew right then he would always feel pride in P.A.'s intellect and talent, even if he would turn forever against him, against all odds.
He started modulating his speed as he continued circling around the black rune shell hiding P.A., and finishing the spell's remaining components, he floated close to him again.
The spell finished, and Momonga offered his hand. The dark phantom facing him hesitated briefly, before accepting it. The handshake was brief but vigorous.
"Well done. Really." Momonga was all too glad himself P.A. managed only timid nod. More words would have been awkward.
"So the Slane..."P.A. finally asked.
"Right! The Slane; we should get moving."
"No, Lord Momonga, I am talking about the Slane." P.A. shook his head.
'Oh, he means Nigun.' – "What about him?"
"Why?"
"Ah... Knew that one was coming."
"Please forgive me if I overstepped, Master. I did not intend to-"
"It is fine, Pandora's Actor. The moment is appropriate to ask such questions." Momonga said meaningfully. "He is my perfect proxy, even if he does not know it and hates me. The captain does everything I require to the point of perfection, and does so better than any servant of Nazarick could ever hope to equal. He is a most potent weapon in my shadow war."
"How can this mortal shame us so, Lord Momonga?"
"The captain is completely predictable to me. Plain and simple. I don't mean it even in a derogatory way – I personally find him a formidable character – but he will always do what I expect of him, because I only have to ask myself what I would have done. He is so very much alike to how I was: completely dedicated and uncaring to the suffering of all others. He is willing to do absolutely anything for his perceived betterment of his people."
"There are thousands of souls like him in this world."
"Oh, absolutely – picking him was just good luck – but who would have thought I would find a perfect native to domesticate so early? There are many other suited candidates for the job, but I happened to pick him… and I'm honestly starting to like him."
"He hates you, Lord Momonga. I even suggest adding 'guts'," P.A. pointed out.
"I can't hold that against him when he has all reasons to, so it doesn't count. I simply appreciate his way of thinking; you don't need to explain pure sympathy," Momonga shrugged.
After an unexpected long minute, P.A. said, "Thank you very much for this information. I will do my best to study the manling."
"You shouldn't underestimate him because you could snap him with a badly-aimed sneeze. The human is extremely resourceful, and has years of experience fighting vastly superior enemies. This is a mortal ruthlessly dedicated to his ideals – the most dangerous kind of all. And he will do everything literally humanly possible to get at me." Momonga would have grinned should he have been capable to do so.
"Ha... Ha ha ha…" P.A. started to chuckle, and Momonga could not help himself from joining in. Soon, they both laughed heartily under the picturesque blue sky with its faint puffy clouds. Undeath was good.
"Hey, he he he..." Momonga tried so sober down. "Let's have a quick side tour to the captain."
"He he he… I was hoping you would suggest that, Lord," P.A. admitted, huffing.
Guided by [Omniscience] they soared over Humanitas, over thousands of ignorant humans still in the dark to their true insignificance, and past many golden effigies to dead gods who claimed to watch over the plebs. They finally arrived at a dominating flat-topped brick building 8 stories tall, shaped in a thick hexagonal ring with each side over 50 meters long. Hundreds of equally-high columns spread in straight lines away from all corners, enforcing the impression of a rainbow sun from an overhead view. Each of the columns was painted differently, and while many looked new, most were worn and withered by time.
The red directional arrow which had guided him here spread into a rectangle marking the window in the 5th floor, behind which Nigun spoke. They floated slower, nearer, till their stopped just outside the window, not even 5 meters away from the captain, and listened in:
"Tell me about this heaven, Elyah..."
They both snickered like immature brats before every other child in the class, when Nigun allowed gravity to crush a snoring student's head into his desk, and then they listened quietly as he spoke of his work and his understanding of spirituality.
When one of the children objected, Momonga leaned closer to P.A.. "So, tell me what you think about his idea, Pandora's Actor. Death and resurrection is common enough in Nazarick. Had the problem ever crossed your mind?"
"You want my opinion first so I won't be biased? Very well, but I do hope you will forgive my lack of wisdom," P.A. said. "On one hand, he describes a scenario - a whole universe at that – where there is only one conscience, and every other 'character' is only an imitation. My first intuition was to discard it as nonsense, but if we think of it as highly-similar parallel universes, especially in their life-supporting ability, it becomes a quite self-contained theory. They are so similar they became difficult to differentiate, and if one of those universes exists, I think the probability for another, very similar one existing as well is higher than most other universes, although I admit this is just intuition and not proven. By binding each universe to one soul, he turns the question of the afterlife into the question what lies beyond the South Pole. He tries to solve the problem of the lack of divine intervention by pointing to the path laid out by them as a means of salvation, but I doubt it offers solace to the common human. They seem to be a desperate lot, expecting unearned mercy and morsels. Slane's leadership must rely heavily on the knowledge of the existence of the god-kin to legitimate itself."
"Agreed. And it works for a good scam."
"I concur. Am I right this is the part where the scrolls come into play?"
"They will be a terrible drug for the old folks at the head table."
"I can imagine." P.A. chuckled. "So, should I goad him some more to make sure he stays on track? On your behalf, of course, to save you the hassle."
'On my behalf my ass. You know damn well I don't not mind. You just want to have fun yourself. You could have just asked… but okay.'
'"Sure, go ahead." Momonga recognized a [Horrifying Portent] spell activate on Nigun next, just as he looked out the window. The poor guy turned ash pale. As fine pearls of sweat spread on his face, he backed off and stumbled onto the edge of his table, losing his balance. Staggered as Nigun was by the spell, he made no attempt to cushion his fall, but P.A. thoughtfully used [Lesser Protection] to stop him from hurting himself.
"I am done." P.A. said a moment after Nigun had lost consciousness.
"And what did you do to him?" Momonga asked as they flew off to Cor Sanctum, the great palace fortress of Humanitas.
"I only gave him a good scare, my Lord. Rest assured, I tried my best to stay in character."
'That information doesn't assure me at all!'
'Oh well, what's done is done.'
Momonga tried to calm his kindling agitation as they landed before the central dominating tower of the top deck of the palace. Despite standing over 400 meters above the city, the top level was wide enough to block all vision of the city below them. Hundreds of guards watched the otherwise strangely plain floor. Apart from the parapet and the hundreds of guards and guests, the level was almost featureless, but the central tower and entrance into the palace proper easily made up for it.
In opposite to the massive white walls of the castle, a 30 meter-high artful bird cage made of ornate ranks of gold existed. The gaps between the metal had been filled with perfectly-fitting glass plates. Even Momonga felt reminded of the gates of heaven as they walked towards the open double doors, almost equally high, and the sun filtered through the masterwork to greet them with scintillating light.
The confusing layers of gold swirls he saw from the outside dissolve into separate depictions of the Six Great Gods here. They watched over a wide stairway lit with magical light, circling along a great pit into the depth.
Thanks to [Perfect Unknowable], not one of the guarding soldiers bat an eyelid as they strolled past and walked on air to the centre of the pit. It went so deep the light smog of all the lanterns stopped even Momonga from seeing the bottom. [Omniscience] pointed down, and so they slowly descended. At first, the floors they passed were mostly open, with further doors and corridors some distance past the stairs and lots of mingling humans scurrying from A to B, but from the 30th or so level on, those entrance halls turned into ever-smaller rooms.
When they reached their goal – Level 62 – the rooms had turned into no more than long and wide corridors leading away from the stairs. Every 40 meters, it made a hard turn, forming a zigzagging line over 300 meters long, with every corner watched by squads of soldiers behind blindspots. Momonga and P.A. strolled past them as they languished in their boredom, till the two con artists reached the last long corridor, which gradually widened till it met the edges of a huge portal the height of a small church, and of the same gold-and-glass style as the entrance far above.
No soldiers waited before it. Instead, a lonely high bar stool offered questionable comfort to a lonely woman who defined dichotomy. Her black-and-cream colored clothes had no matching part. No arm, no leg was alike, and even the pale girl's curls were strictly split along the hair line into platinum on the right and black on the left. An enormous scythe with a blade her size leaned on her shoulder, and made it clear she was no mere secretary.
'So this is Zesshi Zetsumei, the Trump Card of the Theocracy…'
Intrigued, he leaned closer and noticed despite her slight slump forward, she did not sleep – she was just extremely bored. The barely-open eyes stared hopelessly at the ground before her, and her jaw muscles could just as well have been made of jelly.
'What a poor thing. Setting you up as an underwhelming guard dog is just cruel.'
He pulled some hair back, and found her pointed ear tips similar to an elf's, just not as long.
'And the analysis was right. She is indeed a hybrid.'
Zesshi gave no hint of noticing anything, even as the towering guest leaned down on the petite girl and scrutinized every angle of her, just shy of touching her in silence. She was the first godkin, a descendant of a Player they saw first-hand, after all. [Omnicscience] could tell Momonga the basic attributes as currently augmented on her body, but it could not – not yet – tell him her detailed abilities. They still spoke of a formidable fighter hidden behind that seemingly-delicate frame.
"The cardinals are just beyond the door, Lord Momonga. How do we proceed from here?" P.A. asked as they finally leaned back, their curiosity satisfied.
"Eh?" Momonga's hands were already about to push on the towering door wings. "We are showing a little act I call 'Morgan Freeman – Ego Sum Deus'. Just relax and watch till I tell you otherwise."
"As you command, Lord Momonga." P.A. bowed slightly while he pushed the door in.
Under six chandeliers, high but thin and each styled after one of the classical 4 elements, life, and death, sat five men and one woman around a generous, simplistic round table of white marble with golden edges on simple marble cubes. Under a larger chandelier of crystal sat the seventh and most powerful member of the Theocracy's government: the Pontifex Maximus. His cube sat on a raised dais furthest away from the door, currently overlooking a verbal brawl.
The Cardinal of Earth, Raymond Zarg Lauransan, a keen-eyed man in his mid- 40s, had the floor at the given moment, and addressed the shriveled old mummy across him, Ginedine Delan Guelfi, the Cardinal of Water, "We have to mind our long-term goals, despite this crisis. If we lose our head now and abandon our previous work, decades of investment will be lost. If that peasant movement in Re-Estize gains even more support, the Emperor won't be able to annex the Kingdom even when he beats King Ramposa's armies. They soundly defeated a force of 5000 noble troops a week ago without significant losses."
Momonga could not identify the Cardinals of Water's expression behind all his wrinkles, but his words betrayed no agitation. "Further actions without more intel would be a waste of resources. You have no new information about their leader. How can we act, while a real threat to the work of the gods is gathering beyond the borders, when we basically know nothing about this 'Sebas Tian' apart from him possessing an enormous strength?
"Your Excellency, when we commit troops now on this man, we might miss them at the most crucial time in Humanitas, if worst comes to happen."
"Ginedine is right." The Cardinal of Fire, Berenice Nagua Santini, an elderly woman with a mother's smile, nodded. "Our first obligation is with the people of Slane and the legacy of the gods. Losing our investments in foreign countries may hurt mankind's ambition, but this heresy has to take priority."
"We have no prove it really is a heresy," the Cardinal of Light, Yvon Jasna Dracrowa, objected and patiently weathered the coming onslaught behind his narrow eyes.
"How dare you say something like that in the very spot your Lord used to hold council!" The Cardinal of Wind, Dominic Ihre Partouche, spat. "You endanger all the Theocracy has built, Yvon, if you even suggest there could be other gods besides the Great Six. The strength of mankind is unity, and a division of faith is just the thing which might spill its doom!"
"Then we have all the more reason to get to an understanding. We wouldn't want the people to see us divided, right?" The Cardinal of Light countered, and turned to the Pontifex. "Which is why we finally need a decision, Your Excellency. We accepted your reluctance to decide for the time being, but now, there is none left. We were able to stop letters from the front reaching Humanitas, but we can't realistically silence ten of thousands of mouths without even more uncomfortable questions being asked in turn. If we do not provide the people with an answer, they will find their own, outside of our control and guidance."
The Cardinal of Earth nodded and added, "I still side with Dominic, but Slane's well-being takes priority. If that means we have to interpret the facts, I believe it to be a worthwhile trade if it keeps the peace and preserves our strength-"
"You can't be serious!" The Cardinal of Wind turned to the Cardinal of Earth, who held his calm and fixated his gaze at the Pontifex, ignoring the outcry.
"What are a few decades of half-truths, if we get to save the legacy of the gods? History can be rewritten, especially if no more witnesses are alive. It has been done before – you all know that. I would never lecture you on the strength of your faith, but do not let misplaced fanaticism blind you to the needs of humanity."
At last, a voice, thin like a wind gust on a dry summer day, echoed from the greyish lips of the Pontifex Maximus. His blind crossed eyes and naked head sprinkled with age spots betrayed him as the most senior member of the seven, and deep, tired breaths followed his every sentence. "Yvon, you are still the only one who does not oppose the idea of a new god. You read the same reports as us, and still, you come to a different conclusion than our brothers and sisters. It is because of the former captain of the Sunlight Scripture. Do you believe him?"
"Captain Luin is a PTSD victim, like countless others before him. You can't put stock-" the Cardinal of Wind objected.
"Do you still believe him?" The Pontifex stressed his question to the Cardinal of Light, making it clear it was not the Wind's time to howl.
"Captain Luin suffered a horrible ordeal by his own words, and he was always an exemplary soldier and commander. I can-not easily dismiss his warnings, especially when they came right before the start of this crisis, but I have to give ground to Dominic. Soldiers, even the best of them, regularly break under the demands of duty, and the sad truth is a mental breakdown is still a far more likely reason than the captain's experience having anything to do with our current problems.
"Your Excellency, the reason I still do not dismiss the possibility of a new god should be clear to everyone here. The gods descended once from the realm of Players to guide us. We cannot rule out the possibility of another god having descended from the divine realm. I am as always still a loyal servant of the gods, my heart could never abandon the truth of their salvation. I just cannot disprove the possibility of new Players having come to us."
"Then we are of the same mind, Yvon. I also ask myself who we are to deny the existence of divinity, but with the lack of definitive proof..."
"See how they are still paralyzed after weeks of knowing? They won't make their decision based on logic and calculation, but on feelings and emotions. We only need to touch their souls, and they will rally behind me," Momonga explained to P.A., amused.
"So is this the moment where you will intimidate them with your overwhelming power?"
"Not quite."
"Maybe I can help you decide?" Momonga suddenly canceled [Perfect Unknowable].
The discussion stopped at once. Those Cardinals sitting next to the Pontifex Maximus turned pale as the dead, and quills and papers dropped on the table. Of those having to turn around to face him, only the Cardinal of Wind had the presence of mind to scream, "Zesshi!"
The doors slammed open, propelled by a single delicate boot. Zesshi had risen from her spot, and the giant scythe in her grasp was ready to harvest. Discovering him, her eyes narrowed, and she had barely bent her knees before she sped forth like a bullet towards Momonga, ready to separate his skull from his shoulders.
Momonga evaded her swing and let her shoot past him over the table, but he was still impressed by her speed and the fantastic strength accelerating her massive weapon. She was no doubt a warrior way past the mortal level, but he had no interest in testing the limits of her capabilities.
'"Send the present."'
Zesshi's momentum carried her over the marble, and just as she just crossed the center of the desk, he saw a gate leading to the stars open above her. The object crushed her into the stone, splattered like a bloody fragmentation grenade. Several of the cardinals cried out as they were hit and cut by bits of meat and bone, while the rebound propelled Zesshi over to the Pontifex Maximus.
Wasting no time, Momonga teleported right next to her mid-flight and grabbed her right upper and lower arm while casting [Time Stop]. He pulled and dislocated them from each other, then proceeded with all her limbs' larger joints. The damage was in truth minimal to a being the likes of Zesshi. Momonga was sure she could have easily flexed her muscles to pop all her joints back in the blink of an eye, so he bound her wrists and ankles with her own hair behind her back.
Finally, he rammed her scythe hilt-first into the center of the table, and hung her like a living pinata on the weapon's blunt tip, before letting time to flow again for the rest.
"Your Excellency, are you alright?!" The Cardinal of Darkness fussed, himself bleeding from a deep gash over his forehead.
"I am fine, Maximilian; just tell me what is happening!" The Pontifex demanded.
"We had an intruder, and Zesshi..." he tried to explain but his voice failed as he discovered the groaning trump card of the Theocracy dangling from her own weapon, while Momonga lazily leaned against it and gave her a slight spin with a shove. "...Zesshi got beaten..."
Judging by his wide fearful eyes, he could not comprehend what was happening, and the other Cardinals were no better. The moment they saw Zesshi hanging and Momonga nodding at them, they stopped wiping at the blood and filth covering them. Only the blind Pontifex was not stunned into silence.
"What?! How did this happen? Is she alive?"
"The woman will be fine, Pontifex," Momonga answered, and gave her one last spin before slowly walking over towards the Lord of Slane. The cardinals twitched with every click of his shoes on the table, as they watched him in stunned silence. "I did no permanent harm to her. I am also sorry about the mess I created. Here, let me clean that up."
'[Wish: Raise Dead]'
A strange life seemed to pool into all the remains caking the humans and the room. The blood flowed with new vigour from their faces and headed for the table's centre. Small and large pieces of flesh convulsed and started to crawl too toward Zesshi like grotesque caterpillars and worms; all over, solid pieces of bone and armour, including dozens of small plates of different metals, flipped themselves over akin to domino pieces in their eagerness to get there too.
When they all met below the broken super-soldier, they reassambled into another woman below her, faintly breathing in her sleep.
She had short orange-blond hair, and the muscular-yet-slim body of an athlete, which fit her cat-like face. Her bronze-coloured armour consisted of massive claw-like gauntlets and shin armour for her left leg, but otherwise, she relied only on a breast and hip armour made of little metal plates, each showing a different name. They were adventurers' insignias, worn around their necks to show their rank and skill.
"This is the traitor Clementine!" The Cardinal of Earth gasped.
"I found her while trying to flee this wonderful nation with a valuable trinket of my brothers," Momonga said, letting a delicate headband made of fine gold chains and jewels dangle from his open hand. He carefully dropped it before the Pontifex Maximus.
Hearing the soft jingle of the gem, the old man's hand searched for it, and after feeling every corner, he awed, "It is really the Crown of Wisdom. I thought we lost this irreplaceable heirloom forever. Who are you?"
"See for yourself."
Momonga bent down and lightly tipped the Pontex's forehead with the tip of his claw, casting '[Wish: Cure Ailment]'.
Momonga could have easily used an item for the same purpose and saved himself the sizeable mana cost of the spell, but he felt it would impress way more if he kept the workings of his magic subtle in their appearance, but impressive in their effect. For the same reason, he had opted to subdue Zesshi while time was frozen, and let Clementine explode on her back after accelerating for hours between a pair of dimensional gates P.A. placed at his instruction over the ocean and the edge of the atmosphere.
The milky orbs of the Pontifex turned a pale blue again, and his greyish face gained a new rosy tint which made him look decades younger. He stared wide-eyed at the squatting End before him, before he searched the faces of the other cardinals.
"How old you have become, Berenice..."he muttered, perplexed, before looking up to Momonga again. "How shall we call you?"
"I will listen to 'El Elyon'."
"Are you the one who killed the Elf King?"
"The Elf King's not yet dead," Momonga corrected him and snapped his finger, prompting P.A. to place a velvet-covered object the size of a small beer cask between him and the Pontifex. To the humans, it must have seemed like it appeared from thin air.
After an encouraging nod from Momonga, the Pontifex grabbed and pulled at the clothes, causing another wave of gasps and murmurs course through the humans. The shrivelled head floating in the liquid of the glass-and-metal tube was comatose, staring through his half-open eyes into nothingness. He was not dead, but neither was he truly alive any-more. Momonga had been deeply disappointed when trying to search his mind, only to find absolutely nothing –as if the elf had scrubbed his own soul clean the moment defeat was upon him – which was why he did not mind handing him over to the Slane.
"If this is the Elf King, what did we find at the shores of Crescent Lake?" The Cardinal of Darkness wanted to know.
"A puppet he controlled from far away to deceive. The Elf King has not been in their forest for hundreds of years. I tracked him down between the stars and cast him from his throne."
'Technically, I screwed him out like a light bulb, but who cares for the details.'
"You have been to the stars?" The Pontifex asked, caressing the Elf King's prison.
"You doubt me?"
"No, of course not!" The Pontifex hastily apologized. "I am only stunned by what effort you put up for the people of Slane. I am deeply grateful for this mercy, my Lord El Elyon."
'Gotcha!' The old man finally spoke the words he had been waiting for. He stood up again, turning to the other cardinals, and said, "I came to Slane to renew what my brothers built. Mankind is ready for a new age of prosperity, as was promised, and I descended to make up on that promise."
Suddenly, the Cardinal of Wind bolted from his seat toward the open door.
"What are you doing, Dominic!?" The Cardinal of Fire cried after him.
"No longer stand by and watch this heresy! I will warn the people of this corruption, even if I am the only one who can see it!" He shouted while he ran down the long corridor.
"Wait." Momonga stopped the rising woman, and they watched together as he gestured to make a cut out of a distant corner.
'[Gate]'
Just a few seconds later, he came back from running around the corner. After a few meters, he stopped and turned around to run past the corner again, but he returned just a moment later. This cycle repeated several times until he, the Cardinal of Wind, finally collapsed on his knees, drenched in his own sweat, and a flash of light later, he sat once more under his chandelier, unable to look at anyone.
Momonga was not upset about this rebellion. It served him well, and so he stepped down the table and circled it till he stood right behind the shivering Cardinal. He placed both his large hands on the man's shoulders, and felt him tense at once at the touch. "Dominic, I'm saddened by your lack of trust. Would you have rejected the hope my brothers offered 600 years ago as well, had you been there?" He saw even more tiny sweat pearls pour from his skin as he slowly drummed his long fingers on his shoulders, and he leaned closer right next to his ear when he added, "I would never willingly harm a human, my son. Please believe me the well-being of mankind is always on my thoughts. Speaking of that… you should check out that lump soon."
'Minimized [Curse of Perverse Growth]'
The Cardinal of Wind's day were numbered as the silent spell finished. Already, dozens of tiny tumours started growing in all his organs, and it would only be a matter of weeks before he would succumb to a degrading end. And just days before that, the pain alone would force him to abandon his position.
Another groan came from the centre, and the Cardinal of Wind collapsed on the table with tears running down his face when Momonga released him, before facing the source. It was not Zesshi, but Clementine who began to stir first. One look from Momonga's flashing eyes told everyone to wait patiently.
Rubbing her head, Clementine rose shakily to her knees. She looked addled for a moment at the cardinals and the woman hanging above her, before realization hit her and she jumped up. She managed only one step before Momonga held her up, dangling above the table with one hand around her throat.
"Have no fear, child," Momonga offered kindly, and had to work very hard to suppress a snicker.
Clementine did not heed his advice, and tried all she could to get loose of the vice-like grip while cursing him, "Let me go, you stinking monster! Do you have any idea who you are dealing with? I'll carve myself a piccolo flute from your ribs!"
In an impressive display of body control and flexibility, she bent her back and slammed her whole body against his skull, despite the extra strain it forced on her neck. Momonga did not budge one millimetre; he barely felt anything when she hit him.
"Your fucking skull will become my shit bucket if you do not release me at once!"
"End her life, Lord. She is a traitor and madwoman. Killing her is a favour to mankind. She deserves no mercy!" The Cardinal of Earth encouraged.
"Everyone is worthy of my attention, Raymond. Even she."
"I don't want your mercy, asshole. I want you to release me!"
"Oh, I will. I will release you from all your fear and insecurity," Momonga said, whipping out a scroll between his free hand like a playing card. "Find peace at last."
"What shit are your talking about! I have no-"
Momonga slammed the scroll onto her forehead, where it stuck and she stopped here tirade and struggles. The scroll started to glow ever brighter for a few seconds, before it was gone without a trace, and he gently let her down.
The rage and the mad look in her eyes were gone, replaced instead by kindness and peace. Despite Momonga's extraordinary presence, she hasted suddenly to the Pontifex and scrambled to her knees in front of him, placing even her head on the table while she pleaded, "Your Excellency, I have wronged the people of Slane. I confess having stolen the Crown of Wisdom and having killed loyal servants of the gods. I stand ready to accept death as demanded by law."
"Is she really asking to be killed?"
"Just a moment ago, she was fighting tooth-and-nail and slandering."
"It is a trick. It has to be!"
The Cardinals wondered.
"Hand me your dagger, Maximilian," ordered the Pontifex, then accepting the asked for item. He inspected the lovingly-crafted item, before placing it tip first on Clementines offered neck. "Tell me one more time what you are asking of me, Clementine."
"I wish for you to kill me, so I can peacefully die knowing justice prevailed," Clementine spoke, betraying not the slightest bit of fear or regret for her request.
"So be it." The Pontifex rose to place all his weight on the dagger. Spilling blood and liquor, the blade dug between the vertebrae of her neck till its tip hit the table. The Pontifex released the blade and stepped back as Clementine death rattled, and her blood pool started spilling over the edge.
"My... gratitude...Your..." Those were her last blurred words before she stopped breathing.
"What did we just witness…?" The Cardinal of Light uttered curiously. "A late repentance? Was she under some of curse forcing her to commit crime?"
The Cardinal of Darkness shook his head. "No. Clementine has always been a monster. She never cared for justice, or the good of Slane. I recruited her for the Black Scripture for her strength, and it was only strength she ever respected. Such a change of mind should not have been possible. For those of you who did not read her dossier: She was a textbook psychopath. Someone like that is incapable of regret for her misdeeds."
"The evidence proves you wrong, Maximilian," the Cardinal of Fire said.
"I came to gift all of mankind with peace, even if you have lost hope for many of them," Momonga spoke, picking up the carcass. She really did look peaceful as he held her like a sleeping child, and put her hair behind her ear so it would not obscure the change he wrought on her. "No soul is lost to damnation before it breathes its last. Together, we can save every human and gift them with purpose and righteousness."
"Is that what you did with her, Lord El Elyon?" The Pontifex wanted to know, and Momonga nodded.
"Yes. I imparted her with a tiniest fraction of my love and justice. When fate and tragedy have damaged a soul beyond the reach of mere words, I can infuse them as a last resort with the Holy Scripture, writing my compassion on their heart, but I do not like to use it lightly. I reserve it only for the most unreasonable and dangerous ones who refuse to listen to just reason."
"You can really turn people good?" The Cardinal of Fire marvelled.
'Lawful-Stupid, but close enough.' – "Basically, yes."
"Amazing!"
"I never read of the Great Six doing something similar."
"That such a thing is even possible…"
"The possibilities this creates..."
'This is working even better than I expected. Time to settle the deal.' Momonga giggled in his mind. "Do not use this gift lightly," he warned, and summoned the rest of the scrolls P.A. had brought him to hand the Pontifex and the Cardinals a stack of thousands of the hair-thin items in each of their awed hands.
"The use of these scrolls should be reserved for the sake of the state. Each script can turn even the most hardened criminal into an absolutely loyal and faithful citizen."
'"They are eating right out of your hands, Lord Momonga."'
'"Ha ha ha ha ha ha! I could tell these children just as well to not push the red button."'
'"What button?"'
'"Never mind."'
"Lord El Elyon, how can we ever repay you for this mercy?" The Pontifex asked, marvelling at a scroll he held against the light of the chandeliers.
"This is not a 'business'. I don't need anything from you in return. All I want is to say goodbye to my brothers." Momonga answered.
The previously-lively cardinals looked down, embarrassed, and the Pontifex cleared his throat. "Ehm… This... could be problematic. You see, Lord Surshana laid their remains to rest in the inner vault of Cor Sanctum. No one has entered it successfully since he passed by. I am ashamed to say we can not help you with this request, Lord El Elyon. Please forgive us."
'Unfortunate, but not unexpected.'
"That sounds just like my old friend Surshana. He always hated to makes things too easy."
'"Pandora's Actor, have Albedo, Demiurge and Aura stand ready. We are going dungeon diving."'