After what was already feeling like the longest day of his life, Momonga didn't think he had the capacity to be shocked anymore. The sight of the Three Floor Guardians lying on the floor unconscious, foaming at the mouth, had already challenged that idea.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. The ring of Ainz Ooal Gown, the proof of membership in the guild, giving an absolute authority over every area in the Tomb, had transported him without any problems to the Sixth Floor, where he was greeted by the usual lush forest and the great Amphitheater, the colossal building that dominated over the area. The entire floor was covered in illusion spells, even if one would be aware of the fact they were in fact underground, the brilliant star-covered night sky would still make them doubt that knowledge. Momonga felt delighted to be there, as glorious as the Throne room was, the idea of visiting every area of the long-conquered fortress, now that it has truly come alive, filled him with a certain sense of mystery and adventure. The moistness of the ground; the strong smell of pine cones, flowers and of damp moss, all of it made the experience seem fresh as if this was truly the first time he had come to this Floor. After everything quiets down a bit, he would like to visit all the Areas, and all the NPCs too, of course. That idea still made him unconsciously shudder, though. He cared deeply for all of them, he really did, but it would be a lie to say he still didn't find some of them intimidating, difficult to deal with. Or both. Especially the one in the Treasury…
Momonga immediately blocked that train of thought before being assaulted by painful memories.
Thankfully, as soon as he stepped into the Colosseum, his mind was occupied by other things. Everything had been redecorated inside. Brightly coloured ribbons and other decorations were hung on the walls, the seats were filled with cardboard cutouts of people and, most importantly, a giant stage was smacked right in the middle of the arena, complete with light installations and sound amplifiers as well. The Amphitheater had been created to serve as a grand stage where the invaders would be the stars of the show, as they will brilliantly battle against increasingly difficult opponents, putting their very lives at risk for the entertainment of the Guild's members. Now, the whole place looked like a venue for an idol concert.
Momonga could already feel his emotions reaching the level where emotional suppression would activate; that threshold was easily reached when his eyes spotted the unconscious NPCs. They were passed out over what looked like a tea table, filled to the brim with many different types of cakes and other sweets. The two white-haired children, one in a frilly dark dress, the other one in a tattered grey cloak, were held tightly in an embrace by the older woman in a vain attempt to protect them. Despite being unconscious, her grip on the two has barely loosened. Her wild, unruly silver hair with a tinge of pink combined with the sharp features and the lion ears spouting on top gave off the feeling of a lion protecting its cubs. Off to the side, one of the Nero Maids fainted while standing, tea kettle still in hand. If not for the frothing, one could think they were sleeping peacefully.
Momonga quickly rushed over to the side, quickly casting off every recovery spell he could think of. The four of them were encased in auras of different colours, gradually increasing in brightness until they shined brighter than any of the nearby light sources, but none of them as much as twitched.
'Not even a 9th-level recovery spell is having any effect, could this be the work of a World Item? Did an intruder manage to bypass Medea's barriers? Did one of the NPCs betray me? Are we under attack?' Momonga's mind was spinning out of control as he started desperately trying to shake them awake.
"Ah producer, there you are! Don't you think it's a bit irresponsible to be late for your main talent's performance? How am I supposed to secure any concerts if you start slacking off?"
The skeleton's head instantly whipped towards the sound of the voice and came face to face with the Guardian of the Second Floor. The first image that popped into his head was that of one of the idol girls Peroroncino somehow got obsessed over and kept sending videos of in the group chat. There were however a couple of differences: the pink bright hair, the slightly revealing lolita dress, and the deep azure eyes. The main difference however was the pair of horns and tail, but then again the literal skeleton wasn't in any position to judge. More importantly:
"Carmilla! What are you doing on this Floor? Do you know what happened to- " his outburst was silenced by her pointing finger making contact with the part of his face his lips should have been.
"First off, producer, don't call me by that name." Her brow had seemed to furrow for a second, but her face quickly brightened and she struck a pose. "My name is Elizabeth Bàthory, Servant class name Lan…huh? What was I gonna say? Anyways, I am the greatest upcoming idol of the Servant world, the one who shall reign supreme as the subject of love and admiration by all who gaze upon me. Please continue working hard for me, puppy!"
'PERORONCINOOOO! Why did you have to give her a character like that?!' his voice had sung into his head so loudly he thought he had screamed at the top of his non-existent lungs. 'And why the hell does she go by another name now? I never heard anything about that before. And what's with this servant stuff all of them talk about? I feel like I am the only one out of the loop, it's not fair!' Of course, none of his internal turmoil showed on his face.
He had been so caught up by Elizabeth (the name is a real mouthful, she should really just call her Lizzie from now on) that he had almost forgotten all about the potential crisis at hand.
*Emotional suppression activating*
Thankfully, his undead skill came to the rescue once more.
"Lizzie, this is very important to me. Do you know what happened to them?"
A small pout formed on the Blood Countess's face, before sighing in an 'it can't be held manner' and pointing to the unconscious woman.
"Lion girl over here was passing through my floor in a hurry and I learned there was a tea party held on the Sixth Floor." she started recalling the incident, gesturing towards the table full of deserts. "Naturally, I couldn't miss such an event, so I followed her. However, when I saw this Colosseum I knew immediately what I had to do. To perform on my eternal's rival stage, this was the perfect opportunity to put that pesky Roman in her place. Plus, the acoustics were pretty good."
She puffed her chest out, clearly proud of herself. "Those two puppies were really excited about my concert, so I had to give my best! Unfortunately, it seems they couldn't handle my talent and passed out from sheer awe. Too bad, Master, if you wanted to hear it you should have come earlier. Don't expect any private shows for you, you understand?"
Hearing those words, Momonga felt an indescribable sense of relief. He didn't know why, but something told him that the reason the NPCs were in this state definitely wasn't awe.
"You didn't use any magic with your voice, did you?"
"Of course not!"
"So this was just the effect of your singing?"
"Yup!"
Lizzie clearly expected to be praised, but all Momonga felt like doing was banging his head against the nearest wall until he woke up from this ridiculous dream.
"Captain!" He instead shouted.
Before he could blink, the leader of the Nemo Marines appeared in front of him, giving a military salute. Aside from the white turban he wore, Momonga couldn't tell any difference between him and the regular Marines. He couldn't even tell which one was a girl or a boy, but he would rather die than admit it.
"Have them rest in the infirmary until they recover. Be sure to contact me as soon as they regain consciousness."
"Yes, Sir." With a snap of his fingers, six more marines and nurses appeared, lifting off the traumatized NPCs on a stretcher and carrying them away. The Captain's abilities were very convenient, as he was the only one aside from himself that could teleport freely anywhere into Nazarick, or choose to teleport his subordinates. The ship's captain could go anywhere he pleases, after all. It was a feat that not even Medea could freely replicate.
"Also, one of the Hassans claims to have something to report," Nemo said, as soon as the whole operation was finished. "Should I send him here?"
"That would be acceptable, I instructed him to keep me updated on any new developments."
"Understood! If that would be all, I shall be taking my leave."
"Thank you for your assistance, Captain!"
"Always at your service Sir!" and with a bang, he was gone.
Momonga breathed a sigh of relief. Now that he knew that everybody was safe, he could finally relax for a bit.
"So, manager, I plan for my next concert to be held for everybody in Nazarick. Do you think you could find a suitable venue?"
Scratch that, nobody was safe. This was by far the greatest crisis Nazarick, no, Ainz Ooal Gown ever faced. If he didn't think of something quickly, everybody would be subjected to a fate far worse than death.
"A-are you sure this is a good idea? I mean…uh…why aim so low? If you are serious about becoming a superstar, you should try to expand your horizons more!"
"Are you suggesting an international tour?!"
"Y-yes, that's right!"
Lizzie's eyes shone with glee, she looked ready to start bouncing everywhere.
"He he… As expected of my producer! Keep on like that and I wouldn't mind making you my exclusive manager."
"Thank you?"
If Momonga was feeling sorry for unleashing such a calamity into the world, that feeling was immediately quashed without mercy.
"Then I shall start planning your tour, right after…. Ah, right after I hear the report from Hassan." He was thankfully saved by the shadowy, white-masked man that suddenly appeared kneeling at his side.
"You are free to speak," he commanded. A small part of him felt proud of himself for how good he was getting at playing the ruler.
"Yes, Master!" The man's voice was rougher but, just like the previous woman, it was cold and collected, with not an ounce of emotion in the eyes behind the mask. Fitting for one who serves death. "Your Majesty remembers the village we discovered."
"Of course!" It sounded familiar enough that he might have heard it before.
"There is currently a battle happening there. The knights of the kingdom defeated the invaders, but they were quickly wiped out by an unknown third party. The leader of the knights is still alive, he is currently engaged with a number of mysterious creatures in the forest nearby. What are your orders?"
No matter what anybody might say, Momonga knew an opportunity when it presented itself.
"None, I shall be heading there myself." he declared.
"But, my lord…" the assassin tried to protest.
"This will be a good chance to familiarize me with the residents of this New World, as well as their level of strength." And to get away from the idol-wannabe before he ends up in the infirmary as well.
"Indeed, let's be on our way, manager!" said wannabe chimed in.
"Aaaa… you see, unfortunately, I already promised-" Momonga spewed the first name that came out of his mouth-" Jeanne that she shall be the one to accompany me on my first expedition. Plus, your voice should not be wasted on mere villagers, you are an idol whose songs should be heard in the largest palaces of the great cities." The ex-salary man had never been so grateful for having to constantly suck up to his boss before.
Lizzie still gave him a disappointed look (that almost made him go back on his word), but eventually relented, her voice gaining back her usual boastfulness.
"I see, it can't be helped then. Be sure to make it up to me after, you hear?"
"Yes, I will do my best."
Momonga had a feeling being an overlord of death wasn't going to be as hard as being an idol's manager.
The girl named Enri Emmot wanted nothing more than to burrow herself under her blanket; to fall asleep and wake up to her little sister pulling her hand to go outside and show her a cute beetle she had found, all of the previous day's horrors a nightmare long forgotten. Yet not even closing her eyes could save her from seeing the disgusting monstrosities that roamed around her, eager to pierce her flesh and rip her apart.
The day had started peacefully, to the point that Enri remembered the morning as far away, the way one might remember the golden days of youth, so dear yet so far gone you could never see yourself returning to them ever again. Carne Village has never been well off, more than one winter they had scrambled for every last crumb of food they could find, but they were happy, content in their own little world, far away from the conflicts and tensions of the great nations. You could even count the number of villagers who had been to the capital on one hand, and you'd still have a finger or two to spare.
Enri had woken up early to help her mother with the chores around the farm; she had been sick until recently and the work had piled up. The sun was already well on its way to noon by the time she had finished, so she quickly washed herself and made her way towards one of the neighbour's houses. Madam Valle had promised her a big loaf of sweet bread the day before, and she planned on surprising Nemu with it. Skipping along happily across the dust-filled road, it took every ounce of self-restraint she had to stop herself from munching on the sweet, hot delight she carried in her arms. What made her pause was the huge group of people gathered just outside the entrance of the village. The only time so many people gathered together was for the Yearly Festival, or when a travelling merchant happened to stop by them. Needless to say, she made her way towards them, the treat in her hand momentarily forgotten.
The knights, with their shining armours and colourful banners, made their way into the village. At the sight of their noble, intimidating figures atop the strong, majestic-looking horses, all the villagers stood frozen, an expression of awe and reverence on their faces. Enri was no exception. Knights hadn't passed through Carne Village in years by then, so their sudden arrival had naturally become a huge event for the farmers and shepherds from a backwater county in the Kingdom. Renowned warriors that took part in legendary battles, slaying great beasts and rescuing kidnapped princesses, their existence was so far removed from the day-to-day life they lived, the newcomers naturally became subjects of admiration for them. Only a few more travelled people eyed the soldiers with confusion, their attire not matching the ones they remembered the knights of the kingdom wearing. But by the time they even began to suspect something was wrong, the screaming had already begun.
Enri's memory was hazy by this point, everything mashing together in a blur of sensory overlord. All she could remember was the screaming... and the BLOOD. So much blood everywhere. By the time she came to, the image that awaited her was of a drawn sword, as one of those devils clad in metal approached her sister, a twisted grin on his face. Before she could even begin to think properly, she had already thrown the sweet bread towards him; she laughed at herself when she realised that after all this she was still holding on to it, as well as any rock she could find nearby. She couldn't remember the face of the man when he turned towards her, only that she ran. The sight of the small houses and gardens being replaced by trees and high grass barely registered, all she could think about was getting further away from the sound of the heavy boots clashing against the ground, getting closer to her by the second. So naturally, she tripped.
Enri barely felt the pain as her face plummeted onto the slightly moist earth, nor as her knees scraped against a tree root. All she could do was close her eyes and await the cold embrace of steel as it punctured her heart. But it never came. Something far worse did.
Enri opened her eyes just as an unholy scream paired with an unnatural ripping sound reached her ears. What awaited her were those...THINGS. Her mind couldn't begin to describe them, their mere sight filled her with a sense of nausea so overwhelming, it was a wonder she didn't faint on the spot. Their mere existence made every drop of blood in her body freeze, a cold harsher than any winter and a darkness blacker than any abyss. The pain in her throat alerted her that she must have been screaming until now, she couldn't even do that anymore. All she could do was stare in horror, to wait once more as this time those THINGS would rap those oozy tentacles around her and rip her apart, piece by piece.
Then the man came, a blur of speed and steel as he tore through THEM, leaving behind only dismembered tentacles, yet who still twitched unnaturally as if unaware of the fact that they had been cut. He put himself between her and the THINGS, the sight of his large back sheltering her view from THEM managing to bring back a small, flickering light in her eyes. Time had long since stopped having meaning by that point, so the fight could have taken minutes, hours or days, she couldn't tell. The only indication of time was that more and more of the black, tar-like blood sullied the man's armour. And that his breath was getting heavier and heavier. Enri couldn't tell if the man was slowing down or not, nor if those tentacles managed to break past his guard more and more often. No, the only thing she knew was that the person in front of her never once faltered, refusing to budge even a step away from where she still lay on the ground. A small slither of frustration managed to make its way past the fear. This stranger was risking his life for her, and she couldn't even get out of the way. She tried to move her legs, but they were as stiff as a log. Still, refusing to give up, she started slowly crawling away, desperately forcing her shaking arms and knees to advance if only a step or two.
A heavy grunt of pain resounded behind her. The man had been strong, as strong as any of the legendary heroes sung in the stories she heard growing up, but those THINGS seemed endless. They managed to overcome his stonewalled defence through sheer numbers, wrapping around his body to restrict his movement. He struggled so hard that Enri thought she could hear the sound of his muscles tearing themselves apart, but he couldn't break free. After all this time, tears finally started pouring out of the girls' eyes. Tears for the villagers, the people she grew up with, tears from this man she had doomed with her powerlessness, tears for her family, tears for herself. Emmi wasn't sure what she was crying for, just that she hated that she would spend the final moments of her life wailing like a newborn baby.
"CHAIN DRAGON LIGHTNING!" the voice resounded all around the forest, their command going against the very natural order, making it temporarily rewrite itself, unable to disobey the owner's will.
A flash of light erupted out of thin air, the atmosphere becoming so heavy she thought she was going to drown. In the blink of an eye, the THINGS were destroyed. No, not destroyed; their existence was completely erased from the world, the only proof of THEM ever existing being the disgusting blood that still clung to her saviour's armour. Enri's eyes were immediately drawn towards the source of the phenomenon; in the back of her mind feeling the man beside her doing the same. The man was clad in purple and dark robes; the quality of which the poor villager girl couldn't even imagine. Two horn-like objects clung to his shoulders, making the already impressive man all the more intimidating. His face was hidden behind a strange mask, Enri's mind struggled and failed to find anything that ought to resemble it, but she had no doubt the one in front of her was a noble, royalty even. His posture, the way he carried himself, his mere presence, everything about him screamed of someone so larger-than-life she couldn't even begin to comprehend the size of the gap between them. Despite everything that happened, she suddenly felt improper; her dishevelled hair, her tattered clothes stained with blood and the dirt covering every part of her visible skin. She felt her blood flowing again, hurryingly making her way towards her face as she assessed how she might look in front of this person. She hurried to stand up, only to stumble again and find herself clinging to the arm of the man beside her.
After what seemed like an eternity, the magic caster in front of them finally spoke:
"Greetings, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ainz Ooal Gown."
Author's note:
My brother brought home some baklava recently. He really likes it, but it's a bit too sweet for me.