Grassland near the Tomb of Nazarick
The Weeping King stood at the tree line that bordered the Forest of Tob and the grassland where Nazarick resided. Excitement made his nonexistent heart pulse when he saw, far out in the distance, the familiar ruins that marked the entrance to the Tomb of Nazarick.
It seems I am a bit late. Mare has already hidden part of it with geomancy.
Lord Ainz told him that today was when Nazarick would converge unto the New World. He was commanded to go out and meet with his master personally, which also meant that it was time to march on Carne and protect it.
He cared little for the humans that lived in Carne. Were it up to him, he would have left the villagers to their fate and gone straight to the subjugation of everything his lord conquered in his home timeline.
Alas, his master insisted that the Weeping King send out Tsuareninya and her forces to the backwater village. The loss of E-Rantel through Zuranon must have moved some parts of his twin's plans. Electing to eliminate them was certainly the right move.
Lord Ainz does not disagree with the notion, so surely he approves to a degree.
If Zuranon proved too much of a nuisance, he would personally go into battle himself and slay the executives. Many of them were powerful necromancers, around the level thirty to forty mark. The head executive was approaching night lichdom so he would be even stronger.
He doubted he would need the assistance, but he could always call upon Zaral Bonehead if need be. He was a weaker player that possessed his uses. The thought that the lazy idiot would somehow die in the crossfire made him grin internally.
Observing the surrounding grassland, he could see that no one else was present. No shadow demons were hiding in the darkness of the grass, nor were any summons patrolling the surface entrance. That was to be expected since Lord Ainz did tell him to meet up here.
The moment he set foot within a certain distance of the tomb, Lord Ainz assured him a proximity alarm would go off inside Nazarick. That would be his lord's cue to meet face-to-face. Two centuries of planning, backstabbing, and accumulating his power all led to this moment.
All of his hard work, everything he strove toward as both a hero and a monster, would come to fruition.
How should I approach it? Should I allow some of my essence to leak out? Lord Ainz always suggested that one exude a regal air. I am a king, a god even! I must showcase the appropriate display of power.
His mind settled and he felt the seams of his very being start to drift apart. Pure darkness swept out as a fluid mantle, devouring the light of the sun. Some of the trees near him wilted and died, rocks reduced to rubble from his immense pressure.
Birds fell out of the sky. Deer crumbled to their knees and breathed their last. Grass decayed and dirt became loose gravel. As a god of death, everything submitted its life to him, whether alive or dead.
He drew his cape in close around him so that only his head was visible. His iron crown burned visibly between the horns of his helmet. This was a proper visage to greet Lord Ainz.
He shall be most pleased with this.
Inside Nubo's Room
All of Nubo's mirrors began blaring an alarm, which was slightly disjointing since mirrors shouldn't make noise at all. Nubo the ophanim templar, the eyes and ears of Ainz Ooal Gown himself, was alert and ready for this day.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think you're supposed to be here, 'Weeping King'," Nubo mocked, every mirror of his pulling up the same image.
He had been on the lookout for the figure ever since he learned who he was, but what frustrated him previously was that all of his methods to scry the secretive individual failed. It felt as if there were particularly powerful measures placed on the Weeping King, a skill or effect that negated all divination magic.
This was concerning to a player like Nubo. As a templar, part of his entire purpose was serving as the "anti-mage" to those who wielded magic. His whole kit was designed to dampen enemy magic and allow harder-hitting warriors like Touch Me and Connaisdiam to get in close.
Conversely, his racials allowed him to spec into magic spells like scrying so that he could more easily spy on the guild's enemies. Skills like [Hastened Casting] allowed him to cast these spells faster than normal mages, and his innate light, [Radiance of Dawn], burned through magical illusions so that nothing escaped his sight.
In the mirror, he saw a player who would be his easiest target yet. He looked to be an undead that released massive amounts of shadow magic. A cloak of shadows covered his body and obscured any weapons he may have carried on his body. With how dense it was, it was either a magical or cosmetic effect.
So how did this person elude him at every turn? He could be jumping to conclusions by assuming this was the Weeping King at all, but the fact that he was so casually strolling up to Nazarick meant he knew where he had to go. The statues of Momonga and now this? This couldn't be a coincidence.
Time to call it in.
"Ainz Ooal Gown, this is not a drill. I repeat this is not a drill," he spoke into the guild messenger. "All members assemble in the Throne Room. We have an unknown individual approaching the guild. I believe it is the Weeping King."
A variety of emotions flooded over the messenger from every guild mate. The first was surprise intermingled with annoyance. Then came a dead seriousness from those who heard what he had to say.
"Nubo, bring your scrying mirror and show us what you have. We need to act fast to determine what this guy wants if he is the real deal," Punitto Moe responded immediately.
As soon as he closed the messenger, all the mirrors followed him out of his room. They floated behind him while he went to the portal that led to the tenth floor. Using the guild ring would just leave his mirrors behind if he did.
Right as he entered the hall of the Throne Room, the guildmates of Nazarick were assembling. They teleported en masse, taking an emergency call from him deadly seriously. Even the NPCs were present for some likely were with their creators and came into the Throne Room.
It was the most people Nazarick had in one room, which made it quite crowded. Luckily for Nubo, he could simply fly over the large gathering.
Punitto Moe and Ancient One stood next to each other. Momonga was seated on the Throne of Kings and Bukubukuchagama stood on his left. On the right was the Head Overseer Albedo. All eyes were on Nubo, which didn't bother the angelic player since they'd had similar situations before.
Reminds me of Typhon when he wandered over to Nazarick in Muspelheim. That was a mess and a half.
"Give us a full analytics report," Punitto Moe called out to him, his voice carrying well throughout the throne room.
All of his mirrors spread out, giving his friends enough room to see the source of his concern. Images of the Weeping King popped up, showing him walking up to Nazarick in real-time. He was slightly closer, steadily gaining ground toward where the mausoleums were.
A host of murmurs rang out while he spoke. "Well, the Weeping King, if this is him, has found us. I don't know how or why, but he knows where we live and is heading directly toward us. From the looks of things, he means business."
"Does that mean he wants to make an enemy of Nazarick?" Connaisdiam the massive player asked. "It is foolish that he would arrive alone if that is the case."
"Maybe he wants to be our friend," Tigris Euphrates, the Mongolian Death Worm, suggested. "Cona is right, trying to take on the whole guild is pretty stupid. Is it possible he's hurt, or seeking help for something else? You said he has followers right?"
Nearata the golden dragon huffed. "He appears to be undead. There are no visible injuries on him nor any sense of desperation. No one else approaches."
"Even still, we can't discredit the idea that he could require help. Ariel might need to be on standby in case he's hiding something bad under that cloak of his," Tigris Euphrates insisted.
"There is a reason why he is coming to Nazarick. We've known for a while that other players came to this world that knew of us. It could be just as likely he is one of them," Tepas Smith the Vampire Lord said.
Bukubukuchagama barked a laugh. "Maybe, but that doesn't explain how he knew where Naz was! Mare did a hell of a job with Luci*Fer covering this place up. Unless he knew exactly where we were, there's no way in hell that he could have seen this place."
Ancient One, thoughtful as always, gave his two credits. "No, that is slightly less important than his intentions toward Ainz Ooal Gown. While he walks with purpose, it is clear from the body language that he is non-hostile, at least for now. He is not here to fight us, but that does not necessarily mean he does not intend harm."
"Lord Ancient One, are you saying that the 'Weeping King' as you call him could be open to negotiation?" Demiurge asked, who stood resolute with Ulbert Alain Odle. Ulbert looked pleased, patting his NPC on the back.
Nubo had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, both at Ulbert and having seen the "Weeping King' name was catching on. It was the most idiotic, edgy thing he'd ever heard.
Temperance the Core Spawn Seer walked up close to one of the mirrors, his many centipede-like legs propelling him. "He does have a fine sense of style though. I like the way his shadows contrast with his cape. Maybe I should do that for myself more often!"
"What, and drown the rest of us in your insufferable chuunibyou tendencies? Your whole nickname scheme is dumb as rocks nonsense anyways."
"Oh please. You're just a walking reference yourself, jealous of how well I play into my inner darkness."
A small argument erupted between the two players, eventually fizzling out when Jo-bro and Temperance mutually agreed to let the issue go. However, an electric undercurrent between the two persisted, indicating the issue would continue at a later date.
Punitto Moe sighed. "Negotiating with the Weeping King is not a far-fetched idea. It would be our best course of action to figure out what he wants, given the number of villages he has conquered."
"You truly believe we could resolve this peacefully?" Tigris asked hopefully.
"Possibly, and I have just the person in mind to send out," Punitto Moe said.
The battle priest turned to their guild leader. Momonga looked back with a startled look. "Punitto, I understand where you're coming from, but I believe that it would be best to send Pandora's Actor instead to do the job. With his ability to assume any of our shapes, he can take the brunt of the blow and give us enough time if things turn dire."
"Obviously. We won't risk our leader, but we'll risk his NPC instead. Sorry to burst your bubble, Bukubukuchagama, but the NPCs were designed for this purpose. Where is Pandora's Actor?"
It seemed like a spotlight shone down upon the group, focusing on the NPC of the hour. Nubo noticed this, and Pandora's Actor did as well. He was previously hidden in the crowd of Nazarick's inhabitants.
With a flourish of his hand and dramatic sway of his coat, Pandora's Actor strolled to the front of the crowd where Momonga was. Nubo couldn't help but cringe slightly at the dead stare Momonga gave his NPC.
"Worry not, Lords of Ainz Ooal Gown! I would be delighted to help with this expenditure of yours! If it might mean that I keep my father, Lord Momonga, safe, then I will gladly take on this task!"
Flabbergasted guildmates parted around Pandora like the red sea, struggling to hold in some snickers. This emboldened the doppelganger to keep up his act.
"Indeed, this figure that approaches Nazarick so carelessly has an agenda! I will decipher his purpose, and keep the rest of you safe! My duty in the Treasury wanes, so allow me to take on this new temporary one!"
Pandora's Actor finished by taking a knee at the foot of the Throne of Kings. Albedo and Bukubukuchagama stared him down, the slime player with amusement and Albedo with a seriousness that did not match Pandora's absurdity.
"What say you, Mein Vader?"
Momonga's jaw hung open, unsure how to proceed with the situation at hand. Nubo felt for his leader, but now he couldn't help but find humor at the moment. He had an aversion to cringe most of the time, but with how heavy everything began, the Treasurer of Nazarick offset it a bit.
The other guildmates agreed, Whitebrim more so with how he took off his oversized sunhat and tipped it towards the theatrical NPC. "You and I need to have a discussion, Pandora's Actor. That was flawless, absolutely flawless!"
A dam broke inside of all of them, and they began to laugh. The arrival of the Weeping King and his pathetic name, Temperance being called out for his idiotic chuunibyou tendencies, and now Pandora's Actor displaying a fragment of Momonga's past in his dramatic declaration helped to soothe the oppressive air they had.
Whatever possessed Momonga to freeze melted away. Nubo swore he saw... relief pass through his flaming eyes. Now that he thought about it, everyone in Nazarick had established a relationship with their creations, but he never really noticed Momonga with Pandora.
It was probable that the Overlord didn't have the time with how busy everyone kept him. However, Nubo now suspected that he may have been slightly ashamed of his NPC.
Momonga held up a hand to calm everyone down. "Thank you for rising to the occasion, Pandora. Disguising yourself as myself will be greatly beneficial. Before we proceed, I must check something."
He turned towards Bellriver, who had made his way to the front of the crowd. "Bellriver, have the bug soldiers arrived in Carne and Sprigganson? Have Rubedo, Nigredo, and Citrinitas returned to the tomb?"
"We're all clear. The guild is at one hundred percent strength now that everyone is back."
"Excellent. Pandora, you will shape-shift to look like me and meet with this 'Weeping King' above ground. Under no circumstances must he discover our ruse, and you will find out every last detail about him. It's time to lay our suspicions to rest on where his allegiances are."
"Lord Momonga, if I might suggest something?" Albedo piped up, "Why not have the rest of the Floor Guardians accompany Pandora to the surface? It would provide sufficient security as a task force, and we can sell the image that the 'real' Momonga is meeting with this Weeping King?"
"That is a good idea. However, we should not send everyone, as that could compromise the tomb's integrity. As Head Overseer, determine who is best to go with Pandora's Actor. The rest of us will remain in the Throne Room and watch what happens. If trouble starts, the guild rings will teleport us directly to the top."
Albedo was pleased with this. "If it is my decision, then I elect myself to go. It is obvious that this Weeping King knows who we are, and having the Head Overseer with the leader of Ainz Ooal Gown may convince him of Pandora's authenticity."
The guildmates muttered in agreement. Nubo personally saw no problem with that plan, and Punitto Moe and Ancient One didn't disagree. It was unfortunate that he didn't have more time to research the Weeping King, as whatever protections he had on him hid him from his sight too well.
It's a bit of a gamble, but it is our best option. Who else would erect statues in someone's honor if not because they worship them? It's weird, no doubt about it. Celebrities received similar treatment and our guild was infamous back in the day.
Regardless, what happened next would either show they had a new ally or enemy. Someone who could be their guide in the world and show them how to navigate the alien politics they would encounter, or someone willing to make an opponent out of the strongest Heteromorph guild that existed back in Yggdrasil.
The Weeping King had just arrived at the entrance to Nazarick when he saw a brief flash of light. Inside the entrance stood his lord and master Ainz, alongside the Head Overseer Albedo.
He suppressed a growl at her presence and knelt. "Lord Ainz, it is good to see that you have arrived safely. I expect that your trip went off without a hitch?"
"Yes of course," Ainz said back, somewhat robotically. "It was no trouble at all, none whatsoever. You have done well, Weeping King."
The undead sovereign mentally frowned. "There is no need for formalities my lord. Now that you are here, we can get started! I am sure with your knowledge of foresight that we can conquer Re-Estize without the need to genocide the people. Emperor Jircniv will also be like putty in your hands. My offerings to you shall be a great boon, I assure you."
"Naturally. Of course, the… Leaders of Re-Estize and Emperor Jircniv will fall before me."
Again, the way his master spoke was somewhat deadpan. Had he upset Lord Ainz somehow? Was that why he was truly commanded to meet in person? He looked up at Lord Ainz to ask these questions, only to stop dead in his tracks.
His master's eyes were no longer green. Instead, they became a solid flaming red like his own. His alarm rose slightly but settled when he saw the orb in his stomach. For a brief moment, he thought that he might have been dealing with Pandora's Actor.
The sorcerer-king would never depart with his beloved world item, even when he sent out his son to do reconnaissance. He recalled vividly the battle that Tsaindorcus and Pandora's Actor had during the fall of Re-Estize. The NPC was lacking the orb, which would have been a dead giveaway that not all was as it appeared.
There were many tales his twin shared with him about the first timeline. His adventures into the Elf Kingdom and defeating the elven king, foraying into the Azerlisia Mountains to meet the dwarves, and planning the demonic invasion of the Holy Roble Kingdom. He was quite familiar with the king of Nazarick.
No one knew Lord Ainz better than he, save for his old friends in Yggdrasil.
"Lord Ainz, forgive me for asking but are you feeling well? Your natural eye color has changed from green to red."
"Lord M-Ainz had a difficult time transporting all of Nazarick to this land. As you can see, the strain left some… Unusual side effects on our master," Albedo smoothly explained.
The Weeping King bit back a retort. "I see. I imagine the dragon lords of the first age did not miss the opportunity to impede his descent upon this timeline. Their failure to stop him in the first would not go unnoticed. Bah! It does not matter. I am thankful that you are safe."
He did not miss the glance that Lord Ainz and Albedo shared. Taking her on as his queen a short while ago meant they were still traversing the nuances of a relationship. He expected that they might share the occasional glance.
It still left a bad taste in his mouth even if he lacked a tongue. "As per your orders, Tsuareninya and her undead army march on Carne Village. The other recruits wait back in my fortress. Shall we go? Your offerings await you, and I would not dare leave you waiting."
"As well you shouldn't," Albedo agreed, "Yet it would be wise for you to recount everything that has happened since we last spoke to one another. We wish to make sure nothing happened to the… Timeline during our arrival."
The Weeping King stared at her, confused by Albedo's order. "Lord Ainz and I just spoke only a few days ago. I was not aware that the time dilation was so severe this time around. From our many conversations, the Sea of Possibilities should not have changed the flow of time at all."
"Unfortunately, such a situation happened. The Dragon Lords were vicious in their efforts to prevent us from coming here. All we ask is that you humor us for a bit and answer some questions so that we didn't miss our schedule."
Understanding filled the Weeping King now that Lord Ainz explained himself. While time dilation should not have been an issue, he recalled that there could be exceptions based on how the veil was torn open.
If the dragon lords had a hand in manipulating the veil adversely, they could force whoever used it as a gateway to appear in any timeline they chose. Lord Ainz should be immune to this because of the World Items Nazarick possessed.
On the other hand, he knew the dragon lords held trump cards that could bypass World Protection because they did not rely on Wild Magic to function. The breath attack of Tsaindorcus came to mind as the top of those trump cards.
A phantom pain bit him in the right shoulder, where the beam of frosty-white light struck him nearly two centuries ago. As the Dragon God he should've been unstoppable, but that one attack ate away at his soul. World Protection could not stop the disintegration until Lord Ainz chopped off nearly his entire right flank to save him.
The Platinum Dragon Lord, that wretch, must have invented a new trump card specifically for Lord Ainz. If they were aware he was coming, it would be simple to know where to target.
The Weeping King stood up. "Of course, of course! I would do anything to aid you, old friend. Ask me anything so that I can get rid of your worries."
The King and queen of Nazarick nodded with appreciation. "Let's not delay then. Please share with us your history to confirm your identity."
"My history? Ah, now that takes me back. It's been a long time since you asked about me. I'd be happy to indulge."
He gestured towards the entrance. "Might we go inside? We can sit in the meeting room and be more comfortable-"
"No!" Lord Ainz said and then cleared his throat. "Sorry, there is damage inside from the trip. The maids are taking care of the worst of it while the actual base repairs the rest. I would not have our distinguished guest sit amongst the rubble."
A friendly warmth bloomed in the Weeping King's chest. "Ha! You honor me, my lord. It might be uncouth but I will make furniture from my shadows. We won't have to sit on the steps."
He waved his hand. The shadows of his cloak bent to his will, creating a smoky haze that solidified into the desired shape. It was second nature to him as a result of his limit-breaking. He had to hone it over the last century, and now every shadow obeyed his command without needing to speak a word.
A table and three chairs manifested. Because they were made of pure shadow, they looked two-dimensional. It was off-putting at first, yet one quickly got over it. They sat down and he made sure to provide an extra cushion for his master.
"With that out of the way, I can begin. It was nearly two centuries ago when the convergence began and world items came again into the world. Hamada Tamotsu and I spawned right in the old kingdom of Re-Ruth, the super nation that would eventually become Baharuth and Re-Estize."
A flood of memories came in, bits and pieces of his time as an ordinary player. "Hamada and I were under-leveled at the time. I was barely approaching level seventy, and he was a measly level sixty. We were not competitive players like you, my lord. The game was secondary to us, simply a fun past-time."
"Of which there is no doubt," Lord Ainz said.
"Certainly. We had no name for ourselves. No guild, no renown, only our world item, the Tarnhelm. I remember thinking we somehow made ourselves into a sequel to Yggdrasil, at least until we were attacked by minions of the Demon Gods and felt pain for the first time."
"That was when reality came crashing down on our heads. We were no longer in a mere video game, but truly fighting for our lives! A special thrill filled me when I recognized the monsters were real and I could kill them to save the common people."
Fondness filled him when he said that. "Hamada and I used to pretend we were great heroes back in Yggdrasil, wayward demi-gods that were shining beacons of hope. Imagine our elation at recognizing that we could be the real deal! Re-Ruth was ravaged in those days, beset by all manner of monstrosities. We spent days going from village to village, city to city, to save the people."
It was nothing short of a nightmare if one wasn't a player. Hamada, in his brilliant armor and divine light, and he with his blackened cuirass and flaming crown. They fought against creatures both native to the New World and hailing from Yggdrasil.
They battled for months trying to keep lowly peasants and their noblemen safe. There were days where the fun dissipated when lives were cut short and the horrors of war revealed themselves upon the pair.
Dimly, he thought he felt terror in those days. Players of his level back then did not have the same indestructible nature they did at max level. While most low-level trash was quickly killed, there were still close calls.
"Our fame began to grow. Sometimes we'd arrive at a village asking for help and they'd already know our names. Hamada the Golden they called him, and me… I was-"
He stopped there, suddenly unable to recall his original name. That was odd. He could've sworn it was on the tip of his tongue. Was it a side effect of having part of his soul torn, or just the natural result of two hundred years of new memories?
In due time. Lord Ainz knows my name anyway so it's not an important detail.
"Where was I? Yes, yes now I remember. Our name spread and caught the attention of others. Just as we were, a group of great heroes was being gathered to stave off the Demon Gods. We came from all lands and backgrounds, some humble and some extravagant."
"Extravagant? This is a difficult notion to believe about any of the inhabitants of this world. Lord Ainz does have a good eye for worthwhile gifts, though they are few and far between in this world."
The Weeping King chuckled. "For once we agree about something, Albedo. Anyway, there were many individuals of varying backgrounds. There were elves and dwarves and giants and humans, even a little vampire. Of course, the one hiding amongst them was Tsaindorcus Vaision, the Platinum Dragon Lord."
"A 'coalition of talented samaritans', that reptilian filth called us. We'd come to be remembered as the Thirteen Heroes in the end. Those mortal idiots, as if they could ever comprehend the sacrifices we made, the indignities I suffered while I spilled blood for them!"
Lord Ainz nodded sagely. "You refer to the discrimination you faced as a heteromorph. Not at all uncommon for our kind."
"You know what that was like Lord Ainz! All the lords of Nazarick did! I was made out to be a fool! Mocked and sneered at behind my back, forced to be the brunt of jokes and sheer hatred. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was outcasted by those pious morons!"
Because he lacked an emotional inhibitor like his master, his rage came to a boil. His shadows lashed against themselves. Like before, the world died in a ten-meter radius with him as the center. Even the furniture started to fade from his righteous outrage. When he saw this, he took a deep breath to settle his emotions and allow the shadows to solidify again.
Those cowards! Nothing more than wasteful insects that piggybacked off his and Hamada's success. They were the bulwark upon which their enemies fell, their spellsword builds making them balanced equally in martial power and magic. With the sizable group they had, they were unstoppable.
Yet time and time again, Hamada got the credit! For every ten monsters that the Weeping King slew, Hamada was praised for just one. For every ten villagers that praised him, at least a hundred more kissed the ground where Hamada walked.
"The second coming of Alah Alaf" they called him. And of the Weeping King? He was branded a demon warrior, forever cursed to bear the weight of unholy heritage. Bloodthirster, undead abomination, and hell-spawn of Surshana were just a sample of the nicknames they gave him.
People scorned him. When he walked, people hid in their homes at the mere sight of his shadow. He was a revenant to them, a shackled demon the Heroes made use of to destroy his supposed "brothers and sisters".
He relayed all of this to Albedo and Lord Ainz. "Never mind the Demon Gods that I slew. It was I that strangled Divanack, the Demon God of Excess, but Hamada was given the credit because of one measly blow to the side of his head, a blow that never even hurt him!"
Albedo covered her mouth with sympathy. "That a heteromorph would be so blindly mocked by the insects he deigned to protect. I would have squashed them myself if I were in your shoes."
"Hmm. It matters not anyways. The Slane Theocracy may be remembered for slaying the Demon God of Insects, but it was I that weakened it enough so their Dominion Authority could kill it. The overall point is that I was the one that helped take down many Demon Gods because Hamada and I still leveled up as we would like in Yggdrasil."
"In those days, I always felt so… Defeated. In the eyes of those who should have been my friends, I was made to feel worthless. Anytime camp was set up, I was forced to rest outside the boundaries on guard duty. Anytime we ate and drank, I was never asked to sit at the table. I did not need to eat, drink, or sleep back then, but they excluded me nonetheless."
This path of his old life was usually the most dangerous since it signified his lowest point. Hamada Tamotsu, who he called his brother, was influenced by the words of his new clique. They were gamers, not exactly traditionally attractive people in the Old World. If someone were to try and pick out the Weeping King and Hamada in Real Life, they'd disappear in the sea of workers.
But in the New World? Hamada wielded the advantage of being extremely handsome in his avatar. There was nowhere they went where he wasn't swarmed by doe-eyed village girls and lonely noblewomen. Even some of the women in The Heroes took notice of him too. Rigrit was the most prominent one, flirting with Hamada the most.
It added an extra layer of isolation to his situation. Where once Hamada continued to support him despite the cruel remarks, he became coldly distant. He dismissed his concerns as just "introvertedness". He was popular and beloved by all. That was an addiction he'd compare to Cyberware Assimilation.
In other words, he was steadily losing the only friend he ever had to the dopamine rush of being a genuine hero.
"I very well may have killed myself by the end of that campaign," he admitted, "if it was not for your timely intervention, my lord."
Lord Ainz tilted his head in curiosity. "My intervention… Ah yes, I understand. How could I have not intervened, seeing such a lost soul as yourself? To think of the way that you were treated, it was a travesty."
"Out of everyone in the New World, Lord Ainz, you were my true supporter. It began slowly at first, the way you whispered in my ear promises of vengeance. The vision of being given the credit I was due. How I could ascend to my rightful place as a god! It was the least I deserved, a sentiment you shared with me!"
The Weeping King slammed his fist on the table. "When you finally revealed yourself to me, I could scarcely believe what you were saying. I thought I'd finally gone mad from my mistreatment. I was still in denial back then, falsely thinking I'd still somehow win their love. Do you recall what you said to me then, which began to slowly open my eyes to the truth?"
Lord Ainz and Albedo shared another look. This one he did not understand like the first one they shared. There was no fledgling love there, at least like he thought. Instead, he saw a calculating gleam. He interpreted it as them considering the meaning of Lord Ainz's wisdom.
That was expected. Even the brightest minds of Nazarick scarcely understood Lord Ainz at times. Figures like Demiurge were convinced they could never unlock all the facets of the ten thousand-year-long plan in progress. A plan that culminated in coming to a new timeline.
Finally, Lord Ainz spoke. "Finish your journey and see for yourself what I mean. Tell me I am wrong and deny me if it isn't the case."
He grinned, though his skull was permanently grinning anyways. "Something along those lines. To be honest, I don't know the words verbatim, but you have a far better memory than I do."
"I am your old friend, after all. It would be unfair for me to forget such a pivotal moment in your life."
"And you are right in that it was pivotal, my lord. However, the true pivotal moment wouldn't come until the heroes and I dismantled the Demon Gods one by one to bring the Demon God King out of hiding."
In his mind's eye, he saw the ruined capital of Re-Ruth. It would one day become the modern Katze Plains. It was named after King Katze, with only the towers of his castle had remained after the onslaught of battle.
"On that day, the Demon God King Fabris came to face all of us. I was about level eighty at the time, and Hamada was approaching seventy. Months of campaigns and bloodshed had led to that moment, backed by the losses we suffered."
He leaned back in his chair. "Fabris was about level ninety if I had to guess. He was the most destructive fight we had yet. Some of us died in that battle, the dwarf king of the Azerlisia Mountains being impaled on his storm of spears. A member of the elven royal family lost half his head from a glancing blow of his punches."
"Only the strongest of us like Hamada, Rigrit, Landfall, Tsaindorcus, and I managed to stay standing. Everyone else was too wounded to continue or lay dying. I took on the most punishment, having to serve as our group's tank for the time being."
Albedo chose that moment to interrupt. "You were made to be a tank? Why not get one of your lesser companions to do the job for you? It must have been obvious the disdain you held for them, so why not eliminate them indirectly?"
The Weeping King tapped the side of his head. "Because in my mind back then, I thought that if I could be the one to ultimately destroy Fabris, I would finally win the love of the others. Lord Ainz warned me, but I was determined to try and prove him wrong at the time."
"It wasn't until Hamada weakened Fabris just enough for his magical defense to go down that I saw my opening. With my sword, I beheaded Fabris myself! Cleared that horned dome of his straight from the neck! Never before had I felt so elated to win a fight!"
The glory he felt when he made that final blow filled him to the brim. He couldn't help but puff his chest out with pride. For the first time since he'd arrived, he heard cheering aimed in his general direction. He fooled himself into believing that the other heroes recognized his accomplishment.
When he had turned around to greet them and lift his head for all to see that a different sight met him instead.
They surrounded Hamada as if he was the one to behead Fabris. They cheered him, praising his name for his part in the battle. They didn't look my way, even as I lifted Fabris's demonic skull.
The memory fractured there, dissolving into a hazy maelstrom of intense emotions. Despair, utter dismay, and a deep shame at what he was as a person. The urge to run off and end it all so they wouldn't find his body was overwhelming.
And yet… There was something more prominent than any other emotion that day, an emotion that swept all else away in a black tide. It was so encompassing, setting his metaphorical blood on fire.
He was furious.
The Weeping King clenched his fists. "I know that you came again then and there. You offered me your power and I took it. If I could not be their hero, then I would be their villain. I would become worse than a demon. I would become a dragon."
"The result of that battle goes without saying. We would not be here otherwise."
Having retold his story lifted a weight off his chest that he didn't realize was there in the first place. Now he could look forward to their future conquests without his overbearing humanity. Where would Lord Ainz want to go first?
The armies in Inveria were nearly ready. Maybe only a year or so until they were unleashed. Their special forces near the center of the continent were eager to get started, so much so that they were worming their way into the under-cities they prepared.
Their only real hurdles would be the Lord Species not aligned with the Sorcerer King. The surviving Kraken Lords pledged their allegiance save for the Kraken Queen and her remaining son. The Titan Lords were all but extinct, their last member wandering a different continent.
Dragon Lords, such insufferable creatures. Ah well. No matter the timeline, they are always among the first to fall from grace. That much is assured.
"Weeping King," Lord Ainz said suddenly, "To be sure I understand your story correctly, you ascended past your limits with my help. You defeated the Coalition of Heroes you were with?"
The Weeping King winced. He could not escape reminders of his failure he seemed. "I was wounded by the Platinum Dragon Lord's Breath. Even the protection of my World Item could not stop its power. It was just as devastating as any World Item or Wild Magic, yet was not. You had some theories about it yourself."
"Yes yes, that is clear. What I am getting at is that when I helped you become a dragon, you… severed all ties with your former friends? There was no uncertainty they wouldn't forgive you for what you did?"
"My very existence was unforgivable to them already! If anything, I only satisfied their need to hate me. I will do whatever it takes to erase your doubts, my twin King of Ruin!"
"In other words, you… have willingly betrayed everything that you once held dear."
If he could frown, the Weeping King would have. "Is this a test of yours, my lord? You are the only one I hold dear now, save those in Nazarick for the most part. The heroes of that time mean nothing to me! The world means nothing to me! Hamada means nothing to me! Did he think that killing himself would have allowed him to run away from his mistakes, instead of trying to atone for them?!"
That last part he practically roared. He was tempted to ask Lord Ainz to give him back his emotional inhibitor. He cringed at himself for losing control as he did.
An intense pressure smothered him, preparing to crush him under the momentous weight. The shadow furniture flickered in and out of existence, and the aura he seeped was beaten back. Lord Ainz's anger was palpable, as was Albedo's. His outburst would be punished to be sure. His master began to rise from his seat, and the Weeping King was quick to react.
"W-wait! I did not mean to lose my temper with you! I-I have taken the proper precautions to ensure your will is done! Carne will be saved from the Sunlight Scripture, and whatever your plan for that place will be unimpeded. Your armies stand ready, your minions are willing to serve you! I will earn your forgiveness!"
"How dare you assume anything about the King of Nazarick?!" Albedo hissed, a deep shadow highlighting her demonic eyes. "The Sunlight Scripture already serves us. They have served us for some time now, working with the villagers according to Lord Ainz's will!"
"W-what? But then why did you send me out here? Why did you have me order Tsuareninya and her undead to liberate the peasants? What is your angle here, please enlighten me! I do not understand!"
Something about the world shifted, coming to a halt in response to a force that was not welcome. The wind stopped, and the earth quieted to listen for what approached. A presence like the void, an infinite, cruel nothingness, filled the air.
It was a dead space, an aura that ate away all auras. A bottomless abyss in the deepest trenches of the ocean. The darkness between stars that not even their light could touch. He could describe it only as entropy, the natural conclusion to a Black Hole's existence.
Ice tickled his spine, a feeling like a thousand eyes boring into him. Whispers surrounded him, a chorus of voices that couldn't be made sense of. One voice rose above the rest, capable of endless malice.
"Because you have been dealing with imposters, my old friend."
Albedo's breath hitched, and the one he thought was Lord Ainz stepped back from the chair he rose out of. The Weeping King slowly turned to the source of the new voice, a familiar comfort amidst his turmoil of emotions.
Floating in the air was the real Lord Ainz. Unlike the one he had been speaking to, the eyes were an emerald fire that burned. A halo made of umbra hovered around his head, bits of stardust floating about its reality-bending properties.
He shot up from the chair, the furniture disappearing. His jaw hung open in shock. A green orb hung in his open robes. The only thing missing was the guild staff, but he recognized his one true master.
"L-lord Ainz? But you are- Why is- Who was I speaking to this entire time?!"
His mind was a mess. He glanced back and forth between the one he thought was Ainz and the one that was Ainz. The color difference was night and day. Has this been his true test? Was he supposed to have known that the person he was speaking to was a fake?
It truly was Pandora's Actor! But his eyes should have been green like his father's, so what has changed between Nazarick's arrival and now?
"You need not worry about such matters, my faithful one," The true Lord Ainz said like he was reading his thoughts. "All that matters is that you have done as I have asked. Hello, Pandora's Actor. Hello Albedo. I trust that you serve your masters' will well?"
"You are the one the Supreme Beings have been hunting! You are Linnormr, He of Many! Why do you reveal yourselves to us now?" Albedo spat, pure rage distorting her beautiful features.
Having been discovered, Pandora's Actor reverted to his true form. He held the Orb of Lord Ainz in his hand, which stayed a crimson color. "This is beyond the scope of the mission, Lady Albedo! We must retreat!"
"No. I do not think you will. At least you will not have the opportunity to in three, two, one…"
Several flashes of brilliant light blinded the Weeping King. He jumped back far enough that he stood directly underneath his master. What greeted his side made him wheeze in genuine fear.
The forty-one… all forty-one of them are here?! What the hell is going on here?!
They were arrayed in a large line, standing directly behind Pandora's Actor and Albedo. The one that caught the Weeping King's attention was the other Ainz there, who was missing the orb in his stomach. His halo shone with beautiful light, a stark contrast. The dopplegänger wordlessly handed off the orb to his creator, who reinserted it into its rightful place.
Every guild member's body glowed with magical power, the result of their mages placing powerful buffs on their allies. The sky darkened with a host of flying summons, ranging from heavenly seraphim to demon princes to Lovecraftian horrors. They were armed to the teeth.
Out of the earth rose golems of impeccable build, crackling with elemental power. Wind spirits and grass sprites joined them. A host of animated armors materialized out of thin air alongside automatons that assembled themselves out of nothing.
Ravenous undead crawled out of the packed dirt as well. They were Nazarick's Old Guard, accompanied by mighty Death Knights and Warriors. Doom Lords and Elemental Skulls headed that part of the army, glaringly apparent to him.
What little of the sky the Weeping King could see changed colors, the result of anti-teleportation magic being cast. A few disembodied eyes floated in the air, [Arcane Eyes] keeping a lock on their every position.
There is no escape. Lord Ainz, what do we do? How do we survive this?!
A harsh laughter filled the air. Lord Ainz floated down and stood next to him, providing some comfort amid this madness. He laid a hand on his shoulder to show he was truly there, not an illusion or minion disguised as him.
"Good, all of you are present. I trust that my ministrations over the last few months have caught your attention. I see that Bellriver is in good health, though that does not prevent Blue Planet from guarding him with jealousy."
A satyr with many bells in his antlers snarled. "Linnormr! You have some nerve showing up here! I guess the three of us in Tob pounding you into the dirt wasn't enough? Now you need all of us to get the message through?!"
Lord Ainz ignored him with cool air. "Let us see. There is Touch Me, the World Champion. Ulbert Alain Odle, the World Disaster. Nishikienrai the Ninja and his accomplice, Flatfoot. There is Yamaiko and Variable Talisman and Shijuuten Shizuka. The last two look different in this timeline, but it is no concern."
"And there are some who do not exist in any timeline. Ra Ra Rasputin, the Automaton. Small Cuttlefish, the Mindflayer. Tepas Smith, the Vampire Lord. Dynamite, the Harpy. What joy to have you all assembled like this. I am certain it is a dream come true for one."
The emerald flames of his master met with raging red ones, that of his counterpart. The Weeping King could not make sense of anything yet, still reeling from the fact the full might of Ainz Ooal Gown the guild was on display. All that was missing were the other NPCs.
His twin took a special kind of relish in recognizing himself. "Hello, Despot. It has been a long time since I last saw that face. The Sea of Possibilities provides many infinite wonders. I will cherish what comes next."
The Ainz of the guild stepped forward, runes lighting up his forearms. The guildmates behind him readied their armaments.
"And all of us will 'cherish' ending your little charade once and for all. You come into our lives, hurt those we swore to protect, harm my friends, and plague us with your minions for months. Who, or what are you?" The other Ainz asked in an icy tone.
Lord Ainz had another laugh. This one was filled with amusement as if a child asked him the most obvious question in the whole world.
"You will get your answer soon enough, so allow me to entertain you all first. It is the very least that I can do for you, my creator."
Carne Village, Outer Wall
Tsuareninya watched the guards on the outer wall scramble at the sight of her. She and her forces had just arrived, freshly teleported by the Weeping King for this battle. She believed the ones on the wall to be members of the Sunlight Scripture, based on the Angelic summons that hovered around them.
The wall was a mixture of fortified stone and wood. Combined with the power of magic casters who were an elite fighting force, it would be nigh-impossible to break through such a powerful defense. At least, it would be impossible if she was an ordinary commander leading ordinary soldiers.
I'm sorry your Highness. It seems we are too late. The Sunlight Scripture has already captured this village you desired.
Her master said to expect exceptional resistance, to try and conquer Carne as quickly as possible before the mages of the Slane Theocracy arrived. That was no longer a possibility. Her next best option was to try diplomacy and make the Sunlight Scripture back down.
She walked right up to the wall. "You of the Sunlight Scripture! I am Tsuareninya Veryon of the Knights of the Weeping King. On behalf of His Majesty, I demand that your group leave this village at once, or surrender yourselves to me."
The guards on the wall glanced at her, and then back at the small army she headed. "Sorry lady, but there's little chance of that! Carne Village is under our protection, and we'll be pressed if we let undead worshippers like you take over."
"This does not need to end in bloodshed! Gather your leaders instead, for perhaps they may be more willing to listen to reason."
"Apologies, Miss Tsuareninya, but I don't think you'll meet much more success with us than with my men here."
Climbing up a hidden set of stairs and joining the guards were who she assumed to be the village's leadership. She saw a grizzled man with salt pepper hair and a beard, dressed in white robes. Beside him was a young village woman who possessed a strong build, and she was joined by a young man whose hair covered his eyes.
"I am Rowan, commander of this scripture. I am joined by Enri, the chieftain of this village, and her partner, Nfirea Barreare. Why would you have us surrender this place to the likes of you?"
"To protect this place from the likes of you. On the orders of my own master, Carne Village must be liberated. The people will be taken care of, and they will be peacefully converted to His worship."
Rowan scoffed. "You say 'peacefully', but I do not know of any missionaries that come with an army. It seems the Knights have been preparing for this sort of day for a long time. I can only imagine the Cardinals back home would be beside themselves."
"Your people know of mine already?"
"The upper echelons of the Theocracy keep tabs on all threats to national security. This means your Knights as well, on account of utilizing undead to raid and pillage places in the past. If it offers any comfort, you were lower on the list of active threats, since your leader Destrus targeted only corrupt individuals."
The older man gazed out beyond her. "Given what lies behind you, it seems your policies have changed."
Tsuareninya winced. There were no humans among the forces that were transported with her. A horde of armored skeletons, zombies, undead animals, floating ghouls, ravenous spirits, flesh juggernauts, and more jumbled restlessly. The Death Lords hid in her shadow, ready to jump out as soon as the fighting started.
She would've preferred to have some of her newer recruits join her for today, but the Weeping King demanded that they pull out all their undead forces for this conquest. "There is no time to coddle young pups when you have full wolves ready for war," was what he said before transporting them.
I wish I could have convinced him the human elements were necessary. Maybe then there would be no need for casualties.
The longer she waited to make a decision, the more members of the Sunlight Scripture came up onto the wall. Warriors dressed in thick, metallic gray armor jumped over the wall's edge. They held their backs to the gate, aiming strange, box-like objects at her.
Their helmets were shaped like skulls, disturbingly reminiscent of the chosen image of the Weeping King. Short swords were attached to their hips and shields strapped to their back. There was a professional quality to them, like the Death Spreading Brigade.
Things were worse than she thought. The Sunlight Scripture must have hired mercenaries to keep tight control of the people. Were the "chieftain" and her partner just hostages?
The sound of marching feet behind the stone fortifications indicated that more lurked inside. A drawn-out battle was looking unavoidable. Tsuareninya was dressed in her full blessed armor, but she took off her helmet briefly to convey the severity of the situation.
"Please, from one leader to another, just surrender. Surely there are women and children inside Carne. Innocent families are at stake. Stand down, surrender control of this village to me, and return to the Slane Theocracy."
Instead of Rowan replying, it was the woman named Enri. "No. We do not know who you are or why you would convert us. We already have protectors we look toward, the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown. The Sunlight Scripture is just as much a part of this village now, our friends. I won't have you tear us apart for this 'Weeping King' of yours."
Her answer shocked Tsuareninya. She saw the man named Nfirea grab Enri's hand and squeeze it in reassurance. Enri smiled at him and then glared down at her. The faces of every person on that wall were dead serious.
"Then so be it."
She walked back to the head of her army. Once she was close enough that she could practically feel the undead breathing down her neck, she put on her helmet and hardened her heart.
I'm so sorry Cecilia. What would my sister think of me now?
Drawing Heatstriker from her sheath, she raised her sword and roared a battle cry. The undead joined her in a symphony of the damned. They surged forward in an unholy tide, the Death Lords leaping out in front of her to lead them.
And so the battle for Carne Village began.
Hello dear readers,
I hope that you enjoy this chapter! This is the beginning of the end of this act, as the next three chapters will be a three-part finale titled "The Black Dragon". I can't wait to write them and give you all the explosive finale that you guys deserve. It'll end the first act of this story with a bang. After that, I'll do a bit of cleanup of the older chapters and cross-post this story to other websites for you guys to enjoy on.
As always, I'd like to thank my beta team and the Library of Ashurbanipal Discord server. If ever you guys want to reach out to me and chat, shoot me a message on my Gmail of dynobot0102. You can also use the discord link in my profile to find me there as well. Without you guys, I wouldn't have been able to make it into this story as I have.
Until you collect the other eight!