In the reaches of a dense swamp, a band of several people wearing assortments of armour could be seen wandering through the shrubbery. Their appearances were different to each other in both height and build, and their varying items suggested a particular role for each individual. It's due to adventuring groups such as this who often looked around the surroundings of the most twisted Realm.
Helheim - the homeland to Heteromorphs and natural evils, the kind of place that seemed almost eldritch to a common explorer or blade-for-hire.
However, to these brave adventurers, a terrifying place like this was less a promise of death, but more so a promise of treasures and ancient relics. Among these riches, the realm of Helheim was known for another unique quality, one that earned the ire of every human in the Nine Realms.
That strange element... was EXP.
It was natural for players of the famous DMMORPG known as YGGDRASIL to desire levelling their characters, and the most efficiency method to achieve this goal was to simply hunt the Heteromorphic player on the servers. That was common for people who played the game, and was never viewed as something negative or shameful due to the big amount of EXP, gold, and powerful items that would be dropped from these virtual monstrosities.
The game YGGDRASIL was released in the year 2126, and proved to be the most innovating franchise to be created within the last century. It allowed players to design their own characters, produce special items, and produce the most incredible and aw-inspiring guild bases ever seen.
Currently, the group of players were searching around Helheim for the opportunity to face against a powerful guild base and steal its most valuable treasures before YGGDRASIL was shut down forever, a fact that had the entire fanbase in a state of bitterness and regret. That seemed to be enough reason for some players to be a genuine force of spite and desperation, hoping to find something of interest, and value, before the shutdown.
The guild base these adventurers were searching for was one of the most infamous in the Nine Realms. A force that proved neigh-unbeatable roughly five years ago, when a force of over one thousand players and hired NPCs tried overcoming the guild, only to find themselves defeated before they could reach a single member of the guild. It was known throughout the game as a total bloodbath.
The name of this powerful guild was Ainz Ooal Gown, a collective of Heteromorphic players who wanted to be secure from the threats of being hunted down for their items and EXP stores. With their great name, they had managed to conquer the Great Tomb of Nazarick which became their official base of operation for many years.
Nazarick became the product of 41 comrades working together, and the base of Ainz Ooal Gown expanded to encumber a total of 10 floors in their hideout. They had continued growing in power and enhancing whatever issues they found with their previous defences. It was infamous, known for being one of the top ten guilds in YGGDRASIL, and most were smart enough to back off.
But such things were all in the past now...
For this reason, some players had become emboldened enough to attempt breaching the Great Tomb of Nazarick and its many floors. The several adventurers currently attempting to rush through the swamplands of Helheim were tracking down the tomb for this very reason, and found themselves getting excited at their new mission.
The leader of the group -a male in bright red armour- had stopped at the edge of the swamps, finding himself at the main entrance to the Tomb of Nazarick. There was a dark yet familiar sensation that overcame each of them as their gaze landed on a strange figure, looming at the entrance, but neither the crimson-armoured man or his allies could tell what their sudden uneasiness was supposed to mean.
Contemplating their next move, the band of adventurers attempted to move forward and begin their quest as they had planned before venturing into Helheim. However, it seemed their desire to approach was not destined to be.
Before the group could reach the edge of the Tomb with their virtual boots, a sudden flash of light emanated from Nazarick's entrance, causing them to gasp in shock. They backed away from the guild base and remained stood in place due to the uncertainty of the light's source. There was no use in pondering this as one of the party's main members -a female wizard- released a shocked scream.
The others watched in horror, unable to move due to a returning sense of dread. It didn't take long for them to realise what had happened to their teammate, as her avatar began to shimmer into shards of light. She was scarred across her chest and face and the HP bare that once stood full above her head was now emptied. The woman had no time to speak as her avatar vanished.
Another member of their group quickly joined her. And then another. And another. Their numbers continued to dwindle as more and more were slaughtered, leaving a sense of defeat inside the remaining players' hearts; the mission to destroy Nazarick was a colossal failure, and there seemed to be no chances of victory in the future.
The red-armoured man, whose hands were now utterly shaking, attempted to rush forward despite his growing fears and searched for the one responsible for causing whatever had happened to his band of comrades. The embarrassment would be repaid, he would make sure.
He took a moment to check his menu, reading the stats, as well as the Job Class abilities, that emanated across his UI. Perhaps the use of his limited -but powerful- spells would help face whatever had caused such large damage to his plans? He moved to click an incantation, raised his hand towards a nearby area, and then-
The world became white, his game interface warned him of multiple status ailments, and then he watched in immense confusion as his 'HP' bar plummeted into the negatives. He Looked at his virtual hands. Bright shards of light shattered away into the nearby forest and swampland, shimmering.
His character faded away, confirming his demise.
The so-called 'battle' was over. There was a moment of calming silence that surrounded the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, like the resting place of the divine. It's brilliance was soon interrupted when another individual appeared at the edge of the swamps. Although, he was much taller and muscular-looking than those before. It seemed that he was the one from before, looming over.
He remained calm and steady, watching the slow breeze of the nearby trees, and then promptly sheathed his blade. It was obvious that the mysterious man was familiar in the art of battle. The brilliance of his silver armour acquainted with his equally magnificent blade was a true assurance of his status amongst the strongest warriors in YGGDRASIL.
Shining platinum white armour, with a helm in the design of his chosen race, and a chest piece that had a sapphire embedded in the middle over the sternum/heart; the armour itself was absolutely radiating with a pure divine light. He was also adorned in a blood-red cape with gold accents attached around his left shoulder, and a draped coat tail from the hips of his armour at ankle length.
The figure was a well known, and well respected, figure in the community. He was a legendary player who managed to reach the pinnacle of strength in the game, reaching an incredible rank that placed him within a tier of capability and talent that most would consider utterly unreachable.
This man... was TouchMe.
The [Insectoid] Paladin, TouchMe, positioned himself against the roundtable of Ainz Ooal Gown. The place he and his comrades once used to hold meetings, and also conversed about their lives. He could remember a great many conversations, most of them from years ago before he stopped playing the DMMORPG in abundance just to spend time with the love of his life, and their shared joy.
He loved those moments. The laughter, the cheers, the arguments over stupid nit-picks and bygones. Now, it was like the guild itself had become a bygone, as there was no one remaining for after his own departure. It brought him much pain and anguish, knowing that he abandoned one of the only things he cherished, but there was too many responsibilities on his shoulders for him to play the game.
Then, just when everything seemed to be going fine, he received news that his beloved wife and daughter - the most important and valuable things to ever grace what many assumed to be a 'good' life - were tragically killed during an accident. The ones responsible were charged, but once it was discovered that they were of a high class the entire case was dropped without a second thought.
He spent the last three years mourning. The memories of the family he loved and lost were too great to ignore, and once the nightmares started, cold voices that constantly berated him for his failure to deliver justice, he found the very notion of returning to YGGDRASIL insulting. The cold feeling of emptiness was too much, and he stood alone.
But now, looking back on everything, he wished that it hadn't come to this. He could have visited, during those terrible moments that were still very much prominent to this day. The members of Ainz Ooal Gown would have provided an escape from the madness that was his new, pitiful existence amongst the depressed rabble. He was certain that sharing his woes, no matter how personal, would have earned him the sympathies and support of everyone in the guild - even Ulbert, he was rather sure!
The truth was, TouchMe hated himself too much to grant himself an escape. He felt that running away from these problems would be disrespectful to the memory of those he'd lost, even if that did not make sense to him now. It sounded reasonable at the time. The constant fighting in the back of his shattered mind, gnawing at his most deep and darkest thoughts, tempting him to end it all. He was unsure if he agreed with the voices or not, but whatever.
'Maybe... Once the servers shut down...'
Yes. The final moments of YGGDRASIL would be the final positive memory he would allow himself. Afterwards, he would end this. The nightmares, the self-blame, the old memories of his childhood - the visage of his wife from when they were young and foolish, searching for even a flicker of interest from the other. These memories had to end, the pain becoming too much to fight through.
TouchMe had tried to move on. He gave it his best, that much was certain. The truth was, if the world had been a little more bright and accepting, provided even a single positive aspect beneath the dreary haze, he would have continued fighting. He would have focused his heart, to give himself a chance to earn his own redemption. But truth was hardly so forgiving, and reality wasn't worth it.
"Ah... I-I should probably look around Nazarick! Maybe I could even take in the Throne Room one last time!"
He nodded to himself, ignoring the mental ramblings that revealed his own mental downfall, and pulled himself up. The moment was calm, yet bittersweet, knowing that he was completely alone in the Great Tomb of Nazarick. The guild had been kept in amazing condition, based on how everything had been funded and paid for with gold. Why the base was suddenly empty, TouchMe wasn't certain.
The most likely reason was that Momonga -and maybe a few others- had been keeping the place running for the past couple of years while waiting for the other members to join them once more. He could imagine how they must have felt, watching the others slowly leave one by one, as the realities of the real world finally begun to set in. The thought alone was enough to make him want to hang-
"L-Let's move on, hmm!"
TouchMe managed to catch himself, and continued down the main hall towards the Throne Room. On the way, he noticed a handful of NPCs looming beside the walls, the sight earning a small breath of humour from the Paladin. He stood before them, taking in the sight, before using a simple command to move them. He wanted to give the remaining essence of the Tomb a chance to live, because this would likely be the last chance they would ever get.
The silver-adorned Paladin continued wandering the grand magnificent halls, taking in the sights and colours. He soon reached the main entrance to Nazarick's Throne Room, its set of doors depicting a beautiful goddess reaching out in both love and acceptance, while on the other, a monstrous demon that clawed desperately at the enchanted material.
"Aaah..." TouchMe gawked at the contents of the chamber. He could remember when the members of Ainz Ooal Gown began construction for the Throne Room, creating rows of pillars that seemed to reach into the heavens. He loved its themes of divinity and grace, believing it matched greatly with his own stance on Justice, purity, and comradery.
He moved to enter the room, the NPCs still following in his stead. The short walk took very little time, and TouchMe was soon positioned before the [Throne of Kings] - one of the Great Tomb of Nazarick's many World Item treasures. Its brilliance seemed neigh-inescapable, and ebony plates were grafted to the main body while evolving upwards to form a very, very, very high throne. He was a little off-put.
TouchMe decided to ignore his personal emotions and he mounted the flight of stairs. The man had barely finished before taking notice of another familiar NPC. She was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever witnessed, if not considering his late wife, and the demonic elements that 'plagued' her avatar proved to be little more than a new distraction from his own self-attacking thoughts. It caused TouchMe to watch Albedo closely for a moment.
"Tabula really outdid himself." He commented.
The perfect smile that decorated Albedos' pale, soft face proved TouchMe's words to be truth. He wondered how Tabula managed to create such an incredible NPC when compared to the other members of Ainz Ooal Gown. He released a powerful breath of contempt before moving himself towards the [Throne of King] - taking a seat on the World Level Item and attempting to get comfortable.
The Throne Room was quiet. A tranquil, but well-heard tapping emanated from the Paladin's hand as he felt a need to keep himself somewhat moving. Eventually, it became too much. He wanted to read Albedo's private settings and learn more about the NPC, but first he'd require the [Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown] to access what awaited him beneath the administrator privileges.
He removed himself from the throne, returned to the meeting room, took the guild weapon into his hands, before returning to the Throne Room and retaking a position upon the [Throne of Kinga]. The Insectoid chuckled to himself before using the staff to open the administrator menu, which revealed the official data paragraphs describing Albedo's character settings.
TouchMe was amazed by the wall of text that graced his vision. The symbols and font patterns became skewed within the mass of black text, and the man struggled to understand what it meant. He decided to give himself a moment to recollect his thoughts, and then attempted reading the sentences that revealed all that he wished.
The ticking of his virtual clock earned a glance from him, but the notion that he was already out of time was a bit disheartening for the Paladin. With the knowledge that YGGDRASIL was mere minutes from its own destruction, and not wanting to miss the shutdown, he pulled up to force the paragraphs of text downwards. It continued scrolling for five seconds before revealing the final line.
'By the way, she's also a slut.'
TouchMe froze.
The atmosphere in the Throne Room changed. The once calming and bittersweet sensations that surrounded the World Champion now felt cold and disappointed, like it somehow offended him to witness such a beautiful NPC being violated with such a horrendous line of text. There had to be something he could do to fix this problem...
...TouchMe looked at the [Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown] before raising it towards the administrator menu, granting himself the authority to edit the final sentence. He tapped a small button on the right corner of the virtual keyboard, and the disgraceful dialogue was cleansed from Albedo's character. He released a jubilant laugh and patted the woman on her head of raven-black hair, somehow finding it all amusing.
"There! I am glad to have helped you, Albedo!"
The woman's smile pleased the man, although he knew that it wasn't real. Even so, the idea of performing one last act of justice in the name of a defenceless maiden proved somewhat therapeutic. TouchMe wanted to do some nice things before leaving, even if he could only help one NPC.
However, as he stared blankly at the empty space, the Paladin thought about how unfortunate it would be to leave such a gap in Tabula's hard work. Even if the man didn't seem to respect females as much as TouchMe, it proved too distracting to leave his work unfinished. To rectify this issue, he raised the guild weapon again.
'She is devoted to TouchMe, the Paladin of Justice.'
TouchMe laughed once again. "Now, that is what I call a great change to a character!" He exclaimed before using one of his gloved hands to scratch the side of his helmet.
The time on his virtual clock read 11:59:40. He felt his previous merriment fade, and now hopelessness began infesting his mind like a parasite. To think, that he could lose so much in such little time. Momonga and the rest would probably have supported him if they were here in Nazarick to enjoy these final moments, but nevertheless.
11:59:54
11:59:55
11:59:56
TouchMe closed his eyes and leaned back against the [Throne of Kings]. Once he felt comfortable, he gave a pitiful wheeze of pain that was followed by fresh tears. Whatever he did next - we all knew what - he would be forever grateful that Ainz Ooal Gown had been here to experience the end alongside him, truly bittersweet.
11:59:58
11:59:59
00:00:00
He opened his eyes.
"H-Huh...?!"
He had not returned to his familiar home, nor was he now within the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. TouchMe instead found himself sitting upon the [Throne of Kings, vibrant grasslands and forests surrounding him from each side. The cautious whispers of the wind earned a lost and bemused look from the Paladin as he attempted to stand from the extravagant throne, analysing his surroundings.
"This... I don't recognise this forest." He commented to himself, using a hand to shield himself from the glaring sunlight that reflected against his silver-plate armour. It took a moment for him to realise that such realistic and data-straining features were not prominent in the game.
TouchMe was filled with panic and uncertainty, but the World Champion knew better than to remain stagnant because of his feeble emotions. He attempted to use a familiar YGGDRASIL channel to contact the game devs. Forced connections that did not require a console; chat functions, [Gm Call, forced logout–
None of them responded. It was as though TouchMe was removed from the game, no longer allowed to access the different player comms that he was so familiar with. His inability to speak with the developers caused him much strife and discontent. He wanted to enjoy YGGDRASIL in peace before the end, and he couldn't even have that.
TouchMe thought for a moment, desperate to know what had happened to cause such a strange phenomenon. The Paladin decided that standing alone in the grasslands did not provide answers, and so he began wandering toward the closest forest line with the intention of finding others who were trapped in the same scenario as himself.
"...[Fly]"
He instinctively called the name of a spell. One that he'd learned a few years before leaving the game, as it had a plethora of uses in combat. Ordinarily, warriors couldn't learn such spells due to level restrictions, but TouchMe managed to find a perfect match between his strengths with the blade and incantations. He may not have large benefits to his magical power, like Momonga, but there definitely existed a talent for spellcasting within him.
Members of Ainz Ooal Gown -namely Peroroncino and Ulbert- would call TouchMe the spellcaster equivalent to [Perfect Warrior] due to how easily he could switch his abilities between swordsman-tank, and then to caster. When placed on a tiered list, the World Champion was roughly the same as a Level 40 magician build in skill, however, his magical attack and magical defence were balanced enough to make him equal to a Level 60 magician.
The spells he used were minimal - seventy in total. The reason he could use so many incantations despite his lacking number of spell-wielding classes was due to a collective of permanent Cash Items he used to provide himself an edge against YGGDRASIL's magician builds.
TouchMe, freed from the shackles of gravity, wandered through the land and contemplated what he should do once he confirmed his whereabouts. The longer he was trapped here, the more he questioned the nature of... whatever happened to him. Everything felt too real. It caused a strange tightness in the man's heart. He didn't know of the cause, but he continued as he had planned.
The World Champion found himself lost in thought. It managed to provide him a moment of calmness that, previously, was missing from his life. He looked to the grasslands that surrounded him still, and soon found himself looking up towards the blue skies, his mind a collection of bitter memories and contemplation. He wanted to search deeper, but he was also reluctant.
Suddenly, as if the world had sensed his trepidation, TouchMe began to hear something within the forests. Voices of... No, wait... These were screams. Feeling a natural duty to protect whoever was in need of help, TouchMe rushed through the forest at an incredible quickness that caused ripples in the air and sent the surroundings trees fumbling towards the dirt below.
He arrived to the source of the noise in no time, being extremely quick and agile for an armoured warrior. It seemed that his effort had been for naught, however, gatherings of knights in cheap armour could be seen meandering through a small village of humans, their weapons slashing and stabbing into the people with bellows of wicked laughter that could chill the soul.
TouchMe watched as they cleaved and butchered the remaining people. Innocent people, whose lives were reduced to that of mere cattle being hurdled by their executioners who saw no further use for them. It was something that reminded him of his homeland, there appeared to be a similar discontent for the low-class.
He balled his fists in rage before moving forward.
The closest people TouchMe could see from the trees were two young-looking humans - children, the eldest being at least below the age of sixteen based on her short figure. It seemed like she was holding a small child in her arms, her own figure being used to shield them from potential harm. This was most likely her little sister, who she was trying to protect from the monstrous knights. Speaking of which...
Behind the two sisters loomed a towering male knight. He wielded a shortsword crafted from silver, specks of blood staining the edge. TouchMe assumed that this was a cold mixture of different people's remains, the fresh specks of the crimson liquid originating from the older woman who continued clutching her little sister defensively.
The combination of witnessing such a bloodbath, along with the knowledge that a trained knight was willing to cleave two innocent children -sisters- proved too much, and TouchMe immediately sprung into actions. He used one of his armoured hands to grasp the sheaved blade hanging from his enchanted belt, raised it to his side in defiance of the knight's cowardice, and then ran with a finalised aura permeating his admittedly-divine visage.
He was a fool, he understood. The idea of attempting to wield a sword when the only weapon he was familiar with happened to be a modern assault rifle was rather dumb, but the Paladin refused to watch innocent people suffer. With or without training, he would face this knight like a true bringer of justice and make him pay for his crimes.
'Today,' he thought. 'justice shall prevail!'
Enri Emmot, a village girl from Carne Village, rushed deep into the forest with her sister's hand clutching her own. It was difficult to breath, and her legs were shaking with an unnatural fragility that caused the young girl to wince in pain and discomfort. Soon enough, she would be utterly exhausted and collapse onto the ground in defeat. This proved enough to make Enri push onward, for her sister.
The sound of clanking metal continued approaching from behind her as she ran. It was a rhythmic scraping of two metals, indicating that one of the armoured knights were chasing her and her sister through the forest. She looked behind with a prayer in her heart — unfortunately, it was the worst-case scenario. A knight was hunting them both.
'Just a little further.' She told herself.
Unfortunately, Enri's sister was even more tired than her. She released a desperate yelp as she stumbled, almost falling to the ground. The sudden shift in weight caused Enri to falter herself. Both siblings needed a moment to gather themselves, but this also gave the knight enough time to reach them and raise his sword to strike.
Enri, in a moment of selflessness, pulled her sister back into her arms and turned away from the knight. She bit through her lip and tightened her eyes shut — and then scorching heat bloomed on her back. She trembled in response to the agonising pain, holding her little sister closer in an attempt to hide her away from their fate.
"—Ggk!"
"E-Enri!"
The cries of the smaller girl were ignored. Instead, Enri looked at the blood-stained longsword raised with the intent of cleaving through them both. Panic was now beginning to enforce itself within Enri's heart as both herself and the knight seemed to realise how the brief chase was destined to end. The hunt was finally over.
Although she wanted to abandon her struggle, and to accept the inevitable death awaiting her, there was a reason why Enri had not given up until now. That was because the warmth pressed against her chest — her younger sister, cowering against her, shaking fiercely.
As long as she had the strength, she would continue to fight the knight until the flame of her life guttered out. Perhaps using herself as a shield, and then holding on tightly to the evil knight as his sword pierced her flesh, would give time for her little sister to escape her death.
Enri closed her eyes. The world seemed to freeze as she prepared herself for the pain that would surely come in these next few moments. Her acceptance seemed to be annoying to the knight, who suddenly moved his sword downwards to cleave the girl's head from the neck—
—The sound of breaking metal rung through the forest.
Enri gingerly opened her eyes which had been forced shut. The first thing she noticed was an incredible wall of silver and red fabric, shielding herself and her little sister from the wrath of the heartless knight who stood on the other side, unable to reach them.
The twisted knight raised his sword, preparing to be done with the unknown warrior, but paused upon noticing the lack of a blade attached to his hilt. He struggled to think, eventually looking down towards the grass out of sheer instinct, and felt his blood run cold at what he witnessed:
Fragments of his sword lay scattered, broken into tiny specks that could barely be associated with a blade. It earned an awed breath from the knight as he raised his helmet back up towards the silver-adorned man, there seeming to be no chances of his survival against him.
Before the knight could vocalise his disbelief, he felt a burning sensation through his neck. He couldn't gasp. There was something blocking his throat, but what he never expected was for his own blood to spill down his armoured chest and splatter upon the ground.
He struggled to think. Before he could reach out with his remaining strength, which hadn't been enough, the entire world slowly vanished and he slumped to the muddied earth beneath. His body was limp and unmoving from the position in which he had fallen without grace or glamour.
The knight was dead.