Chapter 2

Believe it or not, though I called it a story in the previous Chapter, this 2nd Chapter is actually as far as I got back then before I dropped it until now. So yeah, I just improved it a bit, but I ain't got anything more than this.

Then again I don't dislike this 3k-4k words Chapters, so I might keep this format for this fic and not go the 10k words route like I usually do.

Anyway, that's about it.

As always, reviews are appreciated for this fic, as are ideas regarding Classes, Skills and so on, since I mostly only have my OC's main race classes down, meaning the 30 Levels of base, high and rare class.

That leaves 70 levels for others stuff.

What kind of Job Class would even allow someone to equip/ make use of multiple swords?

Blade Dancer?

Fencer?

Sword Saint?

One thing is for sure: hell if I know.

XXX

Though he was standing motionless within the large Throne Room, the Archdevil was by no means lost in though or uninvolved in the grand-scale deployment of Nazarick forces in the search of their remaining Master.

Indeed, he was constantly getting reports via [Message] from all groups informing him of their advancement, their speed, the change in geography, everything. Demiurge for his part compartmentalized those informations, put them into tiers of importance and made a mental map of the physical as well as goal-oriented progress, relaying information obtained by certain groups to those groups who would benefit from them.

In truth, he too wanted to go out there.

To search for his lost Master and be the first to hear his praise directed at him.

But, Demiurge was a goal-focused realist.

He knew that for a mobilization of this scale the others required a central figure that could lead them. With Momonga now departed and Albedo in the state she was currently in, it fell upon Demiurge to take this role upon himself.

The [Messages] came one after another, the most occurring ones from Aura herself. With the help of the many Beasts under her command, she was making the fastest progress on her route and made sure to check in with Demiurge and inform him of any changes in the landscape and the routes she was taking, as well as how she was splitting off her forces.

In second came Shalltear and the undead forces under her command. Though not with the same speed as Aura, she was making incredible progress on her appointed route.

Thirdly came Cocytus and his many warriors, which he skilfully split into smaller groups each time they encountered new paths on their route, leaving nothing to chance and making sure no stone remained unturned.

Mare himself remained within Nazarick and was tasked by Demiurge to take care of the defences, his Skills and Spells the most suited to use the new environment surrounding the surface area of Nazarick to their advantage. A good amount of high-level vassals had been appointed as his personal force and body-guards, but the highest number of them had been dispatched on the search for Eidolon, as was only naturally.

Having just finished relaying his orders to yet another [Message], Demiurge took a moment to raise his head and gaze upon the forty-one emblems embroidered onto the regal flags placed meticulously symmetrical upon the marble pillars adorning both sides of the Throne Room.

His eyes first stopped at the emblem which closely related to a skeletal face. That was the Emblem of Momonga, the leader of the Forty-One Supreme Beings. A sense of great awe was awakened within Demiurge as he gazed upon it for a long moment.

Next he stopped at the Emblem of his Creator, Ulbert Alain Odle. It might have been hard for someone else, but Demiurge immediately recognized the goat-like face within the emblem, as well as the upwards-protruding horn. Looking upon it, he could feel his Creator's love for evil that he imprinted onto his creation, as well.

Next was the emblem which bore similarities to both wings and bows: the symbol of Peroroncino, Creator of Shalltear.

Then the emblem most similar to it's owner's own appearance, with the exception of Momonga's: the Brain Eater Tabula Smaragdina, Creator of Albedo.

One by one, Demiurge looked upon the flags and their emblems, emblems which he knew all to well. They were part of the most primal and crystallized knowledge he could think of.

But, to his own great shame, one fragment of this knowledge he was so proud of seemed to have escaped him until now.

"My Lord, Eidolon…"

On the last pillar on the left-side column, there stood one flag with an Emblem upon it which had so far been absent from Demiurge's mind.

The simple Emblem of a hooded man wearing a volto mask lacking any facial traits besides the eyeholes from which flames appeared to stream upwards.

Even before the mobilization of the whole of Nazarick, Demiurge had tried to think of any instance where his last Lord had been seen or talked about in all of Nazarick, but nothing came to mind.

It was as if a shroud of blankness fell upon his mind each time the Archdevil tried to imagine his Lord's undoubtedly glorious form.

It was most concerning, to say the least.

"...Mhm...Momonga-sama…" From behind him Demiurge heard the soft moans of the Floor Guardian Overseer, Albedo, and turned to look at her.

She was still sleeping, hugging the armrest of the Throne of Kings as it were the last lifeline she could hold onto.

It was a most disgraceful sight for she who was appointed to the highest rank within Nazarick's hierarchy, with the exception of the Forty-One, of course, to be behaving like that. For the first time, Demiurge felt a wave of shame wash upon him, shame that he was sharing the role of Creation with her.

While everyone was doing their best to search for their last hope, she was allowing herself to be crestfallen.

'Truly...such a disgraceful sight...Haa…'

Nonetheless, Demiurge could not bring himself to hate her, for hating Albedo would be the same as hating Tabula Smaragdina. A sin he would not take upon himself.

"...Eidolon-sama. We will find you shortly. Please, be safe…"

XXX

"I cast Fist!" The shouted echoed throughout the hollow desert as Eidolon moved one step closer to his approaching enemy, slipping into his reach and delivering a ten out of ten straight right into the ghostly face of the robed, floating Ghost.

Suffice to say, he had been scared by the sudden attack and even more so by the unnatural, ghastly visage of the attacking Monsters.

For one second.

Then the gamer inside of him took over.

"Come get some you sons of bitches!"

In all honesty Eidolon had little knowledge in the art of 'slugging', as some would call it. He had real-life knowledge on how to handle a gun, but that was about the extend of his combat-related abilities.

Yet even so, in this current moment his body moved on it's own, delivering punches after punches upon the enemy before him, neither stepping out of his rhythm nor allowing the enemy any chances of retaliation.

Within mere moments the ghostly figure had accumulated too much damage and dispersed into thin air. "Yeah, you like that?"

'Holy shite I just punched a ghost to death. To...undeath? Ahh, who cares?'

"Who's next? I can throw hands all day you fugly bastards."

He stated as he looked at the some fifteen such robed ghosts still surrounding him in a circle.

He had realized after throwing the first punch that he was armed. With five swords, in fact. But he also felt that now, having already thrown punches, switching to his swords would somehow look really dumb. Or rather, it would show his enemies that he was dumb.

And he wasn't about to be tagged 'dumb' by dumb-looking ghosts.

"Come at me. I'll fist you so hard-!" He did not get to finish his sentence as two of the ghosts jumped at him from both sides, as if trying to catch him in a pincer attack. "[...Phase]". Deciding to trust in his Skills, Eidolon kept his ground and did not move. The one handed sickles of his enemy came closer...and then, as expected, went through him without dealing any sort of damage.

If they had the ability to look shocked, Eidolon had no doubts they would have looked just liked that. With that said, as soon as their attacks passed through he reached out and grabbed them both by the head, slamming the Spectres hard into the ground, hard enough that they dispersed just like the one before. "...Let me finish my god damn line."

Thinking about his situation calmly Eidolon realized something.

If the strength and sturdiness he had previously tested out were his Level 100 Status made manifest, then his enemies must have been at least in the middle tier of levels, seeing how one of them survived multiple punches from him.

'So around...Level 50 then? No, maybe 60 would be a closer guess? Whatever the case, they are not completely weak-ass mobs. But...nowhere near me, anyway.'

He stretched his arm forward and called upon another Skill. "[Phantasmal Figments]"

Within the blink of an eye multiple silhouettes of himself manifested around him before they lunged themselves at the nearest enemy.

[Phantasmal Figments] was a Skill which allowed him to create one clone of himself per enemy, capped at ten enemies, which could act out on their own. They had his base Agility but only dealt one fifth of his raw damage. However, they could not be damaged or killed and they lasted for a full ten seconds.

The best distraction one could hope for.

'Except...huh. Now why is this…?' All of his enemies now engaged in battle with his spectral clones, Eidolon took the time to observe the battlefield. 'Ok, so there were fifteen of those assholes left. Then I head-slammed two of them into the ground. Which make that thirteen, right? And my Skill can only manifest one clone per engaged enemy, for a maximum of ten. But…'

Every single one of his ghostly enemies were engaged in battle.

'Why are there thirteen clones? Now that I'm complaining, mind you, but...this ain't right?'

Another realization came a couple of moments later: more than ten seconds had already passed. Yet the clones were still present. They did not dematerialize once the time-limit had been reached.

'...Ok. This is weird. In a good sense, of course, but...How does this affect my other Skills, then? Urgh, so many uncertainties…'

Though they were doing a good job of keeping the enemies at bay, his clones nonetheless were unable to kill them. Despite their ability to not receive damage they could only deal twenty percent of Eidolon's raw damage, and if one were to put that into numbers, it make them no stronger than roughly Level 20 or 25 mobs.

'No time like the present, huh? Well, if those things are of the Spectral and Ethereal race like myself, then…'

He drew one of the swords on his back and another one of the two strapped to his right hip. "Electric damage should do the trick. And Fire, just to be sure. Now…"

Luckily for him his clones were persistent buggers as always and did not allow the enemies to shake them off. The perfect opportunity for one of his other Skills. "[Phantasmagoria.]"

Instantly switching locations with one target within visual sight.

That was what this Skill was all about.

It dealt no damage of it's own and was part of his base class, so it's daily uses were more numerous than some of his other Skills. However, though it dealt no damage that did not stop many Players from reporting him, especially those Mages he switched location with, placing them within the ranks of his fellow guild mates while he took their places within the group of enemy Players.

Suffice to say, those Mages got absolutely owned by Touch Me, Nishikienrai and Warrior Takemikazuchi while he himself used Skills like [Phase] to remain safe even when the opponent Players were trying to murder the ever-living crap out of him as he stood in the middle of their formation.

'Good times.' Eidolon thought to himself as he had switched places with one of his clones, quickly slashing away at the ghostly Spectre before him with his swords. As he expected Electric damage did the trick and the enemy quickly fell.

Losing no time he dashed behind the closest mob distracted by his clone and attacked once again.

Though there was no longer any UI to display the numbers, Eidolon felt that the back-stab he performed had been a critical hit. Even had he not felt it, the fact the enemy dispersed within a single strike would have been enough proof of this.

A quick glance later he noticed the enemies turning to look at him.

He grinned under his white volto mask.

'Oh, you aren't getting used to me, don't worry.'

"[Phantasmagoria.]"

And once again he switched location with another clone. "I'm a bitch to fight in one-on-group battles, you know?"

Keeping up that very same pace, the group of enemies had been dealt with within seconds. Granted, if they were only around Level 60 then this strategy and usage of daily-use Skills was no doubt an overkill, but he needed to confirm he could rely on his Skills.

He now knew he could, which was good.

"That took care of those assholes. So, uhh…" Sheathing his swords he turned to look at his clones made of ethereal miasma "When do you guys plan to disappear?"

They simply stared at him with their trait-less faces, two of them even turning to look at each other in confusion. "I mean...You can go now. Shoo, shoo." Making a gesture for them to piss off with his hands seemed to do the trick as they all dematerialized a second later. "...Weird. Now then."

Crossing his arms across his chest after making sure there were no other enemies nearby, Eidolon took the moment to observe his surroundings.

The skies above him were dark, but he had visibility for as far as the horizon stretched out. This was not thanks to his Darkvision: the place was simply luminous despite the state of midnight of the skies.

In the very far distance was a dark-blue moon which seemed to be set ablaze by spectral flames, with a secondary twin moon placed just behind it. A moon eclipsing another moon, with only the faintest traces of the secondary moon visible.

If he had to put it into words, it looked as if the moon-on-moon eclipse was just one second away from a full Eclipse, but it remained in that unmoving position.

All around him was desert, one which was pure white like snow but with a blue tinge to it.

And as far as the eye could see there were floating orbs of various tinges of colours spread out.

Souls, in other words.

Eidolon was very familiar with this place.

He had created it, after all.

Well, not in the literal sense of the meaning.

It was no secret that YGGDRASIL as a game offered immense freedom to it's players. World Items, rare classes like World Champion and even Super-Tier Magic, it was a messed up game to be sure.

This freedom also extended to the Developers themselves, and those crazy assholes often came up with the most ridiculous of ideas.

One such idea came in the form of a PvP-centred Event which took place in all of the nine Worlds of YGGDRASIL.

The requirements were to win a certain amount of times without losing once within a certain time-frame. Then, when the deadline approached those who managed to win consecutively were pitted against each other.

As for the reward, well.

The Player who came on top of all others for their respective World were granted one personal wish by the Devs.

And Eidolon, back then still a warrior-class Half-Golem, managed to win the Event for his world. This was of course before the creation of Ainz Ooal Gown, and before Touch Me established himself as one of the strongest Players around.

And his wish had been to create his own Heteromorphic Race.

The Devs laughed at how crazy he was.

'You could ask for a World Item, you know?' One of them told him during their virtual chat.

'I can find those on my own, thank you very much.' Had been Eidolon's response.

With that said they did decide to grant his wish and Eidolon submitted his pre-written manual to them.

Then he was reset to Level 1 and the grind started all over again.

To say he was singular in his built was not an understatement.

Did this mean he was the strongest Player around?

Hell no.

At most, he was in the lower portion of the high-tier Players. He had not min-maxed his built as intensely as others, after all.

But he was strong. Even within Ainz Ooal Gown, his presence alone during a raid increased his guild's chances of winning exponentially.

Now then, how was that linked to him knowing about the place he found himself in?

Well, you can't exactly create a Race without giving them a background as well. Some juicy lore, that is. So he went ahead and wrote he lore for that in the manual he submitted, as well.

'And that brings us here…Haa...Jesus...Fucking...Christ…'

"Well, slap my ass and call me sexy. This is royally messed up. Why don't you just tell me that God is real while you're at it? Haa..." He let out a long sigh as he dropped his head, already feeling his mental fatigue building up.

"There can only be one." Then a voice began to echo all around him.

"...Shit, I just had to jinx it, didn't I?"

"You should not exist."

Turning around Eidolon came face-to-face with the owner of the voice floating above him and crossed his arms again. 'Well shit. This one looks like a Raid Boss, that's for sure.'

"You cannot be allowed to exist."

"...Hmm. I see. Yeah."

Taking in consideration his current situation, as well as what led to it in the first place, there was of course only one course of action that he could and should take right now.

"[Void Step.]"

And that was to turn around and haul ass.

'Ain't no chance I'm fighting a Raid Boss unprepared you cunts! Auf Wiedersehen and til next time!'

He had arrived in this place after using [Void Step], so he had no doubts that he could go back to the material plane if he used it again.

Luckily for him, that Skill had no daily use limits and could be used as much as he wanted.

XXX

"Still nothing, Demiurge. I'll be in contact." The red-clad True Vampire reported back via a quick [Message] before taking to the skies again, her blood-red eyes thoroughly scanning the landscape beneath her for any marks or traces of footprints, battle or signs of life.

They had made good progress as far as distance was concerned in the half an hour since they left Nazarick, but unfortunately they had found nothing that could help them in their quest to find their last remaining Master.

But, Demiurge said that Eidolon was still acknowledged by the Great Tomb of Nazarick as still being present.

Hope was present.

Hope that there was still some use for them as Creation of the Forty-One.

And Shalltear would stop at nothing to find Eidolon.

Granted, there was a cause of great shame for the True Vampire. Back then in the Throne Room, when Demiurge stated the name of the remaining Supreme Being, Shalltear felt disappointment.

'If only it were Peroroncino-sama…' The petite NPC thought to herself.

Of course, it was only for a single heartbeat and the thought dispersed into nothing in a single moment. All the Forty-One Supreme Beings were to be revered. She knew this much, and Shalltear was simply over-joyed they were not completely without Master.

But, she had still thought about it.

Once they found Eidolon, she would need to ask to be punished for her transgressions.

With that said, however, she would keep the fact that her heart just skipped a beat at the thought of punishment a secret.

'I need to focus on the mission. Finding Eidolon-sama is of the highest importance.'

And then she noticed something below her, at the ground level. Wasting no time the True Vampire immediately performed a landing just in front of what appeared to be a...Gate?

"[Demiurge, this is Shalltear.]"

"[What is it?]"

"[I stumbled upon something. Some sort of [Gate] manifested before me. It looks like a...crack in the air? Some sort of miasma is coming out of it.]"

"[Understood! Hold your ground, I'm sending the nearest groups your way!]"

The Message ended and the Floor Guardian took up her battle stance, Spuit Lance at the ready. Whatever was going to come out of that crack, she would beat it to an inch of it's life and then inquire about Eidolon-sama-

"Hahaha, suck on that you sons of bitches!"

Suffice to say when the tall, fully equipped man wearing a volto mask while screaming profanities came running out of the crack, it did take her by surprise.

But she immediately felt his presence, the presence of a Supreme Being and knew this was the Master they were looking for.

"...Ah." Was the only sound Eidolon produced as he dashed past Shalltear while turning his head to look at her.

Then he placed one foot in front of him, came to a full stop, turned around, grabbed the True Vampire, threw her on his shoulder and then continued his dash. "[Link of the Abyss]".

Within a single moment the world became enveloped in blue, as if a blue filter has been applied to anything from the snow beneath them to the stones and mountains surrounding them.

'W-W-W-Wait what?!'

"Shalltear! Speak to me!"

"Eidolon-sama?"

"Good, good. Keep your eyes on that crack. Tell me if anything comes out of it." He ordered her as he continued his extremely fast dash away from the crack, running up-hill with incredible speed.

"A-Ah. The Crack disappeared, my Lord!"

"...It did?" Her Master asked as he stopped his advance and turned to look at where the crack had been just a couple of moments prior. Indeed, after he came out it simply vanished. "...Huh. Well, that's...good? Yeah. Mhm."

Letting out a faint sigh, Eidolon grabbed Shalltear and allowed her feet to touch the ground again. "My Lord, I am happy to see you unharmed."

In return he simply tilted his masked head at her. "...Huh. Your mouth's actually moving…"

Dread washed over Shalltear like a wave and she immediately threw herself on one knee in front of her Master. "I am sorry for speaking without permission, Eidolon-sama!"

Thanks to the lack of knowledge on the Supreme Being in front of her, Shalltear knew nothing about his temper nor about him as an individual. However, his words just now made it clear that he did not appreciate her speaking without his personal permission.

She just hoped her transgression would not cause him to leave them for good, and that her apology would be sufficient.

'Still, as expected of one of the Forty-One. I can feel his iron fist crushing me down for speaking out of line-'

Then she felt his hands under her armpits lifting her up.

"Hey, you ok?"

"...W-What?"

"I asked if you are ok. Why the hell are you kneeling? Are you feeling unwell? Uhh, you are Undead so I guess that question is dumb, huh?"

"E-Eh? But, my Lord-"

"Who the heck are you calling a Lord, you little twerp?"

"…"

"…"

"...Ehhh?"

XXX

Can't wait to get to Demiurge and bring his view of the Supreme Beings to come crashing down.

That is gonna be fun.

Also, you guys realize that Albedo in this fic is madly in love with Momonga just like in canon but he is not present, right?

I ain't saying I'm gonna make my OC's life hard, but...I ain't saying I'm not gonna make it hard, either.

Also interesting how now no one within Nazarick can use the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown for resurrection and stuff, ya know?

Just some food for thought.

Kay bye.