To address one point about Ainzly being too human and saving everyone, please consider the fact that he let every single one of Gazef's men (who fought the scripture) die when he could have saved them. He ordered Shalltear to hunt down retreating enemies. He brutally bisected almost a hundred soldiers instantaneously without feeling a hint of emotion. He took twenty dead bodies just because he wanted the money.

He's not nice. He just aided the Kingdom.


After the defeat of the Sunlight Scripture, the crown of Ainz Ooal Gown returned victoriously to the village, healing the injured Gazef Stronoff. The warrior thanked them with all the gratitude he could muster and insisted on accompanying the two on their journey to E-Rantel.

Ainzly's alibi of travelers heading for the kingdom had come to bite him in unexpected ways. He had two options now: claim that they travelled using [Mass Fly], or accompany Gazef. Avoiding Gazef or making an excuse would just raise suspicion, which Ainzly did not want to cause in an important figure.

If they accompanied Gazef, they might acquire loads of information and potential support from the kingdom, but they would be also feeding information directly into the kingdom. They didn't have enough intel on this world to form a reliable cover, which would just cause unnecessary suspicion.

Momonga, or rather, Ainzly (he still experienced turmoil over his choice) went with the safest option. He would be getting into direct contact with the nobles if he went with Gazef and he did not want to be used due to his lacking knowledge of the world, so a short trip with Shalltear would be best.

The encounter with the theocracy and the kingdom was thus put to an end with a large group of shadow demons trailing the head warrior and the villagers cheering for their saviors as they left the settlement.

"I suppose this is it, Mr. Stronoff. I hope our paths will cross again."

"The same to you, Sir Ainzly. Remember, if you ever need anything, simply visit my residence. It's just to the right of a tavern called "The Dancing Lizardman"."

As Gazef's mount, healed as a courtesy of Sangria. trotted down the grass hills, Ainzly looked to his red companion.

"Well, Sangria?"

Shalltear placed her left hand on Ainzly's shoulder and together with a blue glow they lifted off into the skies, shooting past the foliage and forests.


Ainzly was not sure what to think of Shalltear's hand on his shoulder. He felt like telling her about it, but something in his instincts told him that would be a dangerous move.

This is getting awkward. I mean, none of the NPCs are older than six.

The NPCs, although they took on their intended personalities, only had so many memories. None of them were even close to being an adult. What really sent a shiver down his spine was their apparent sentience before the game ended.

They took everything we said as… As if we were gods.

He did not know if they truly had sentience when they were in the game, but something was amiss.

I can't deal with that now. I just memorized some key data about the NPCs, but it's time to think of a way to deal with the city.

Thanks to the scouting provided by Nazarick, Ainzly felt a breath of relief when the Eyeball Corpse monsters did not report any type of high-level watchman. It seemed this world was incredibly weak on YGGDRASIL standards.

Pre 1.1, I would say.

A detailed report of the city would be awaiting him at home.

Home, huh…

"Shalltear, communicate with me using a [Message Ring] if it's required. Once we see some more developed civilization, dispel your [Flight] spell and we'll walk the rest of the way."

"My lord, is it really necessary for you to walk among human filth? May I suggest a steed, perhaps?"

Ainzly chuckled. "That would be suspicious if that man Stronoff asked the guards about us."

Shalltear looked like she didn't get it for a moment, but quickly understood her lord's intentions.

I don't plan to stay for long, but I've got a good cover figured out.

[Shalltear, I believe this may be uncomfortable for you, but rest assured, this will be a short trip that will give us much insight into this world.]

After an apology from the Valkyrie, Ainzly made his subordinate recite the cover they'd made. There wasn't much else to be said; they wouldn't become adventurers or anything. They would just let their scouts infiltrate the city.

With Shalltear silent, Ainzly pondered over his current circumstances and remembered another affair to be taken care of.

[Demiurge, may I have your attention for a moment?]

[My lord?]

[How goes the progress of your research? Has Neuronist acquired any information from the prisoners?]

[Lord Momonga, I've determined that the humans are identical to YGGDRASIL's low level humans. Our scans revealed that none of the Knight prisoners had a resurrection anchor, so we revived them and began interrogation. As you ordered previously, we also reforged the low-quality weapons and turned them into gold using the exchange box. One interesting phenomenon, my lord, is that undead summons can now become permanent if the spell is cast near a corpse.]

[Oh? And tell me, how did you confirm this?]

[Titus discovered this when he attempted to create a soul eater for one of the homunculus maids. The spell locked on to one of the dead horses at a 57 meter range. I suspected this effect, so we used a time acceleration spell on Titus and the soul eater.]

[I see. I assume the dead will be converted to death knights and soul eaters, so use them to reinforce the security of Nazarick. I also permit the use of undead summons for excursions to the outside world. Otherwise, once there is a sufficient force, have the Overlord librarians summon as many undead as they can and take their gear to the exchange box.]

Though he had never confirmed it, judging by how his skill-created items could be exchanged for coin, the undead summons could theoretically drop their items and could create a small income for the guild.

[Understood, my Lord. As usual, your insight is—]

[What information has been extracted from the prisoners?]

[Ah, I feel the information best summarized in a written report. Should I…]

[Summarize the key points. I have the time.]


They approached the gates of the fortress city, confident expressions on their faces. Ainzly strode forward, the guards eyeing the sword at his hip. Sangria's blade was attached to her back for carrying. Normally, drawing a blade from the back was dangerous and slow, but her skill more than made up for that.

A man in light armor, gripping his spear with a light sheen of sweat over his face pointed them to a guard sitting at a desk.

"Names?" The man asked, face devoid of emotion, only showing fatigue. Ainzly understood the pains of working at a boring job but held back from commenting.

"Ainzly and Sangria Oras."

The heat in the room increased by several notches, the guards around them shivering from the strange aura that surfaced. Ainzly was too nervous to notice this change, but continued on regardless.

"Are you citizens of the Re-Estize Kingdom?"

"No. After we left the Holy Kingdom, we've been travelling around."

The guard raised an eyebrow.

"The Holy Kingdom? Then… Who is the king of the Holy Kingdom?"

Ainzly smiled. "You mean the queen? Calca Bessarez, if she hasn't been dethroned by the nobles."

"What is the age of conscription?"

"Around 15."

"And why is that?"

"They give us a year to get married."

"Can I see proof of your citizenship?"

"Here are the papers. I doubt it'd be of any use, though. We don't have contact with the Re-Estize, or much with any nation for that matter."

"Your purpose of coming to E-Rantel?"

"We're considering moving here."

The man sighed and set down his notes.

"That should be it. Amon?"

The guard who was looking through their bags gave a thumbs-up, returning their luggage.

Ainzly was surprised at the process. It reminded him of airport security. He knew that E-Rantel was a fortress city, so he expected tight security, but didn't expect it to be logged. From the information extracted from the soldiers, this world was as medieval as it could be; reading and writing was a rare skill that would only be useful for the rich and the nobles.

There must be an ulterior motive, then. Maybe they're looking for someone.

Ainzly and Sangria walked through the streets of E-Rantel, exploring the districts of the city. It consisted mostly of residential areas. Arrays of competing market stalls broadcasted their goods, brought in by traders, to the city before them. He carefully observed the life around him, eavesdropping on conversations.

Much of their talk was about their own lives, money and food and whatnot. It provided him information about life as a citizen of the kingdom. What really interested him, however, was the talk about the nobles. From what he had heard, the people seemed to hate and fear the nobles, who forced them to fight against the Empire annually. There was talk of figures they liked— some praising the king, some calling him a senile fool. There was even mention of a "golden princess".

He was cut from his thoughts when he heard a scream of pain, a crowd gathered around the voice. Ainzly sifted through the crowd to see a boy, no older than 10, sprawled on the ground. A gruff man kicked him in the ribs with unrelenting fury. Surrounded by thugs, it seemed that this man was feared by the people…

Amidst the chatter, Ainzly understood the situation better. The crying woman that resembled the boy, the jewelry and expensive ring on the man's finger and the dazed look on his face pieced together to form a story.

No need to cause trouble. Sorry, kid, beggars can't be choosers. Wait, how does that even make sense or work at all? I'm speaking Japanese, that's an English expression that died out like a century ago.

Ainzly turned and left. There was nothing to gain from helping the boy. The air fluttered behind him.

"Let's go home, Sangria." He smiled.


The Pleiades bowed before the guild master, lining up and taking some of his gear to his armory before servicing Shalltear. They quickly parted to reveal Albedo smiling serenely at the duo. As she walked all too perfectly for Ainzly, he felt a chilling aura washing over him.

Like a white devil...

"Lord Momonga, Shalltear…" She trailed off with a hint of distaste. Ainzly suddenly felt a lot more uncomfortable, but the relief he approached was more welcoming.

"I trust that you were successful in managing Nazarick in my absence, Albedo?"

"I believe so, My Lord, I hope that my abilities were up to your standards."

"Good. Why don't you two get ready while I…"

Silent to the outside world, Ainzly felt a wince in his abdomen. It was almost like a growl and he felt a foreign sensation.

I'm… Hungry?

"While I call the other guardians to have lunch with us. Yes, that will be all."

Ainzly turned and left the two surprised floor guardians, chuckling to himself. The guild ring he had been presented with teleported him back to his chambers.

Unravelling his disguise skill, Ainzly prepared the short speech he planned to give to the NPCs of Nazarick. In short, this "lunch" he had arranged was not just a gathering of the floor guardians, but nearly all the NPCs that could attend. This required hours of preparation, replacing area guardians with summons and non-sapient monsters.

Invitations had been sent and Shalltear was the only uninformed. Ainzly felt amused at the confusion the true vampire must be feeling.

All thanks to the tailor NPCs, we have a supply of formal dress even for the mercenaries.

He ordered the servants to begin immediately. At once, the halls to the great throne room opened with a grand finality and revealed it to be arranged into a massive banquet hall. The invited NPCs that had been waiting nervously at the hall entrance all trembled at the might of their creators, taking each step as if the hall was a holy ground.

As the NPCs converged into the hall, taking their reserved seats in their humanoid forms (form changing items were involved), Demiurge gave Ainzly the signal for his entrance.

The demon found himself materializing in front of his throne, much to the surprise of many NPCs. They all stuttered and bowed before the sight of Momonga in his full glory, the [Sword of Ainz Ooal Gown] pushing his simplest of auras to an extent that terrified the floor guardians themselves.

"Loyal servants of Nazarick," Ainzly began. "We have been delivered to this New World for a purpose... And that purpose will be our goal from now on, under my authority as the leader of this glorious guild; Make Ainz Ooal Gown an eternal legend! Whatever gods and heroes the insignificant dwellers of this world praise will be replaced with the glory of Ainz Ooal Gown for ETERNITY!"

The collected NPCs roared in approval. Ainzly allowed the bloodlust to die down before finishing his speech.

"From this day forward, I will be known as Ainzly; your demon king and eternal ruler! Onwards to conquest!"


There was not much else to be said for Ainzly, but to the NPCs it was different. Their leader; their god had spoken and his command was to dominate the world. As they were served the finest of delicacies, the NPCs found themselves chattering excitedly about the new plans. Demiurge, Neuronist, and Shalltear (much to the disappointment of Albedo) shared their master's intricate plans.

It may not have been official, but Carne village and the area surrounding Nazarick was already theirs. The servants chuckled at Demiurge's reports of the New World's military strength. Chances of Ainz Ooal Gown victory against any known military stood at 100%.

The weak inhabitants of the New World were thanked for being a step to Lord Momonga— no, Lord Ainzly, some remembered. He would be a hero to the people despite his intimidating presence, Shalltear explained. Wrathful to those he deemed as enemies, a mastermind of puppeteers, and a merciful ruler; the very image of a perfect king.

Everywhere the NPCs treated and socialized in the event, they could see their master, the Supreme Being Ainzly standing watch over them from his throne like a god. Their hearts were warmed at this sight.

The NPCs were soon acquainted with their first real social gathering. When Ainz Ooal Gown was but a shell of its former self, they worked themselves faithfully to protect the guild and craft items to upkeep the base's expenses. With their intricately crafted personality settings, the NPCs became more real than ever.

The aftermath of the celebration was a sight to behold. Tables that held feasts of legendary creatures and wine aged for centuries in the heart of a glacier— Ainzly was delighted to find that he could eat, but his sense of taste was dull, like his nerves had been fried.

This worried him to no end, but he still appreciated the texture of the food itself. Nonetheless, he had bigger problems to worry about. There was no way to prove that his world wasn't a simulation, so it was best to ignore it for now.

As the hours passed, the NPCs returned one by one to their stations, finding detailed instructions of their next steps in world domination. Aura and Mare were in charge of leading expeditions to map out and control the monster-infested territories around Nazarick. Albedo would continue re-organizing the work structure of the NPCs, providing balance between defence and field work. The librarians were charged with materials research in place of Demiurge, who lead groups of doppelgängers and shadow demons to replace and monitor political figures.


I was too scared to go down and talk… I think their view of me has been lowered now...

Ainzly reviewed a few of the plans Demiurge put in place, the demon refusing to explain his own plots.

Fucker… Well, it looks like we're doing this world domination thing for real. I'm not so sure about our chances, but whatever. We still have a [Guild Relocation Stone], so I can cut teleport us to a safe place if it ever comes down to that.

He would need to find a few good locations, then. Somewhere his potential enemies will never expect or take a while to figure out.

Then again, I don't have any good maps. It'll have to wait.

He looked down at the golden blade in his hands. He had entrusted the [Sword of Ainz Ooal Gown] to Aureole Omega after taking the world item under her protection, but Ainzly wasn't so sure about his choice. While her floor did host the strongest NPCs created, some stronger than their creators, it wasn't the most secure out of all places.

I'll have to deal with that another day, then.

As he looked at a vacant table being cleaned by the homunculus maids, Ainzly remembered a magic party trick performed by Titus, the head librarian.

Super tier magic was an art available to only players. There were items that contained the over-tier spells, but they were also exclusive to players. It was something of a strange move by the devs, as NPCs depended on orders and had a mediocre strategic AI.

This made most magic-based NPCs weaker than actual mages, so they were not very popular, especially ones that required combinations of many abilities.

It can't be [Five Elements Overcoming], but I guess the real problem is that super-tier magic is lost to us. Potentially forever.

He felt a bit… somber at that realization. His spies had begun to confirm the lack of existence of any magic in this world beyond tier 7…

Losing the power of super-tier magic would be a huge disadvantage to the guild. Ainzly planned to have someone— perhaps Demiurge, perhaps one of the librarians and a mage NPC, to research the lost art.

"Lord Ainzly, Narberal will be here to attend to you in a moment, as you ordered. Is there anything else you require?" One of the maids inquired, bowing as her fellow servants left the hall.

"That will be… all." He confirmed, surprised at how much time had passed while he was in his thoughts.

As the halls of the Lemegeton closed with a final thud, devoid of the aura of celebration, Ainzly began to think about something that had been on his mind ever since he reviewed his stats.

My race…

In YGGDRASIL, there were many hidden race and class options out of over 2000 choices. Many of these had not been made public knowledge by any means, but Ainz Ooal Gown had its eyes and ears…

One race that had become popular after the second World Championship series was the demonic parasite race. It was a cousin of the demonic spirit race and the player would have to choose that as their starting race to become a demon parasite. There was, however, a hidden challenge beyond just race level progression.

After choosing the demon spirit race, players would be thrown into the game under less than usual circumstances. Since the demonic spirit was an astral being that only had a few telekinetic and debuff abilities, players entered the game in a human host randomly selected from one of the hundreds of villages in Midgard.

Momonga himself entered the game in a priest's caravan, possessing a village boy. According to his randomly-generated backstory, the boy's mother had sensed something wrong with her child and called the nearby church for assistance.

(The lore of YGGDRASIL involved the corruption of the Norse universe— great spirits and gods from other had fallen into the realm of the Norse, explaining the appearance of out-of-place beings like Georgian demons and vampires.)

The challenge had a simple premise— to obtain 15 demon spirit race levels. Unfortunately, it was much more complicated than that. There was a catch: never abandon the human host, or get it destroyed. Once the human host died or was switched out for a better one, becoming a demon parasite was no longer possible.

The lore behind this process was a slow bonding and replication of human biological processes— the spirit bonded with the host's nerves, muscles, and mana circuits; if this continued, then the host and demon would become one, forming into a real, physical demon, an icon of corrupted sin and emotion. The quest for the demon parasite would have thus failed.

The hidden route could be realized if the demon spirit had a neutral or good karma, something difficult to achieve. It would rationalize its urge to become a demon and instead leak out its demonic essence, forming a shell of demonic power to protect its host— the only thing capable of keeping it alive now that it has bonded. This shell would take after human flesh, but it would be imbued with the properties of demonic energy to become an organic mass of unprecedented power, protecting the human inside.

And then— in a moment of shock, Momonga had acquired the demon parasite race. He would be one of the first to discover it, but at that time, his mind was less focused on that and more on the choices in front of him.

Warrior and mage shell.

The warrior shell took after armor; it was constructed like a set of heavy armor. Players who chose this were thus warrior centered. Mage shell also took after its name. It was a robe-like mass of flesh that had a cape capable of flight.

The race change also meant several other changes to the quality of life. Regular sustenance was now required, so Momonga always brought food items. He did not want to waste a ring slot on basic needs, after all. Sleep, on the other hand, was not required, since the host was basically unconscious inside the shell.

Resistances and race abilities were much better than a traditional demon, but there were some disadvantages. They were extremely vulnerable to exorcisms; anything higher than level 90 and the host would be ejected. The problem was that the demon required the host to live, so it would also die once the weaker NPC host was killed.

The devs did not go much further; the race was mainly done on the basis that it was a cool idea. Its stats were balanced easily with the algorithms developed after more than a century of data collection from various MMORPGS.

Ainzly felt the [Eject Host] skill within him, feeling the chitinous locks on his spine flutter and click as a confirmation that it was operational.

In the game, I had a level 80 mage NPC as a host, the highest level he could go to. Should I wake him up?

He almost never brought out his host— ever since his arrival at the New World, his mind and instincts shunned the thought as a taboo but Ainzly… was curious.

He was a player and loss meant nothing to him.

"[Eject Host]!"

His skin felt hollow, like a shell abandoned. The completion that was within him became no more and his innards felt the rush of cold air. He turned around to face the human being that was the host to Momonga, or rather, Ainzly, leader of the supreme beings of Nazarick.

His curiosity lasted for a split second. His warm thoughts turned cold. His body seized and stopped breathing.

It was him.

Oh, sure, he was a coughing, groaning mess rolling all over the floor, covered in a layer of translucent slime but it was him, all right. With his youthful brown hair, not old like a messy, thin tangle of black, white, grey, and black against seamless milky skin, he was the picture of his youth moment captured into a single being.

It was him.

Lvl 3

Suzuki Satoru