The pale, golden locks of a kneeling beauty swayed violently under the influence of the wind around her. The threads hanging above her mask bounced to the rhythm of her erratic breathing. "So… the time has finally come. I-I must inform Lord Perugius at once," the radiant woman said, casting one last glance at the clouds swirling beneath her before forcing herself to stand up.

Sylvaril was basking under the crimson rays of the setting sun when a cold and sharp sense of dread suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, crawled into her throat. The feeling had wholly drowned out the sense of warmth and serenity the view had instilled in her and forced her to her knees.

Sylvaril's fingers clasped around the slender staff in her hands. Without the support, her legs would've buckled under the anxiety festering in her heart. It was as if the incarnation of fear threatened to crush her sense of self under its unbeatable grasp. Ordinarily, the wings atop her back would've carried her through the maze-like interior of the fortress before her, yet their current state was pitiful. They were limp, dragging themselves across the floor.

Although she bore the title of One of the Armoured Dragon King's Twelve Familiars, her existence was incomparable to that of her eleven comrades. As such, her mind was easily swayed by mortal uncertainties.

I'll never reach the throne room at this pace! Placing her weight upon her staff was an intelligent idea. Through this, she'd avoided the humiliation of falling onto the divinely crafted tiles scattered across the Armored Dragon King's fortress. Unfortunately, her legs still refused to move at an appropriate gait. If something didn't change, she'd reach her master only after the moon cast its gaze upon the world.

"Almanfi," Slyvaril called out.

The effect was immediate. Sylvaril tilted her head upwards. Her masked eyes met those of a young man covered in white. Although his face was obscured under the guise of an alabaster Kitsune, she could sense a faint trace of uneasiness on his features. Despite the stillness of the area, where one could hear a man's heartbeat from fifty feet away, Sylvaril couldn't hear the breathing of the man who had appeared just a mere foot from her. The only noise that made its way into her ears was the distraught sound of her own breath.

"Right."

Sylvaril extended her unoccupied hand forward. Arumanfi quickly grasped it, his motions brisk but gentle.

Before Slyvaril could speak another word, the walls around her melted into an amalgamation of opaque light. Once her mind registered her new surroundings, the dreadful sensation plaguing her usual serenity vanished. Slyvaril sighed with exhaustion. "Allow me to thank you." The winged woman lowered her head in gratitude.

"There's no need to thank me. Our lord instructed me to gather everyone in the throne room, so I was simply following orders."

Sylavril nodded in acknowledgment. The prospect made sense. I envy you, Almanfi. Her comrade's capability to teleport without the use of sigils or magic circles was certainly a covetable power. As one of her master's most loyal followers, the ability to appear before her lord at any moment would undoubtedly make serving him easier. No. Now is not the time for such thoughts.

Almanfi had teleported them to the vestibule between the throne room and the rest of her master's grand fortress. The doors in front of her led directly to her master's throne room. Sylvaril pressed her hands against the entrance. The cold and intrinsically decorated doorway quickly sapped the heat in her hands. The sensation was pleasant, a soothing contrast to the despair she had felt a minute prior. Once the door gave way, a cacophony of voices assaulted her ears.

"My lord, do we execute plan Orenstein or proceed with plan Hand of God?" The being furthest from her asked. The man wore an outfit nearly identical to Almanfi's. The only difference was the golden crest embedded into his blazer. Instead of wearing a bird mask akin to her own, he possessed a visor-like cover.

"Silence! Trophimus, can't you see that our lord is thinking!?"

The hall was spacious. One could comfortably fit the residence of a small city within. As such, the throne room's occupants were gathered close to the throne resting against the wall opposite the entrance. Their shoulders fought against one another; they resembled a mound of bodies instead of ten separate figures. The space between her and the holy seat was vast; it easily surpassed over a hundred meters. Even so, Sylvaril's ears digested every word spoken. Her Demihuman nature amplified her sense of sight and taste yet left her hearing unaffected. Such was the booming characteristic of the voices of those within.

Sylvaril turned around, hoping to spot a reaction from the man behind her. The only thing her eyes digested was the red carpet fused to the floor. Ah. When her gaze returned to the area before the throne, Sylvaril caught sight of Almanfi's golden hair. He'd made his way to their master's side when she'd opened the Dragon-imprinted door.

Seeing such a devout demonstration of loyalty, Sylvaril followed suit. She lowered her head once she reached her comrades to show her willful subservience. Her master spared her but a single look before raising his head toward the ceiling.

"Enough."

The word possessed enough power to silence those within the throne room. Her master's face was plastered with rage. The dark miasma contended with the dreadful feeling she felt outside the fortress.

"Harkenmail," Perugius called out.

Sylvaril turned her head to one of the men beside her.

"F-Forgive my incompetence, my lord, but I'm unable to fully grasp the nature of whatever's arrived," The man dropped to his knees. Drops of lilac-colored liquid marred the bandage covering his eyes.

"Tsk," Periguis spat in annoyance. His strained features threatened to cave his face in.

"Master, it's obvious who this aura belongs to!"

Sylvaril's eyes swerved toward the man furthest from her. His brutish and arrogant disposition became apparent by the look on his face. Most would've confused him with a Beastman from the Great Forest. His blood-colored beard covered half his face, after all.

"Relay the order, and we'll bring his head on a silver platter!" The brute spoke with enough confidence to knock Sylvaril back onto the ground.

Sylvaril watched as her master shifted his gaze toward the man. "Oh?" Perugius began. Be my guest. If you beat Laplace, I will reward you with the entirety of Chaos Breaker." A smile began to blossom on her friend's lips. "However! If you die, I won't bother reviving you."

Perugius' familiar was quick to quiet down.

"Now, Almanfi," Perugius called out.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Do you think the time has come?"

Almanfi walked forward before answering, "I am unsure. There's a distinct darkness floating in the air." The blonde spirit began to caress his chin, "The convergence of mana is far too strong. If Lapace has been revived, he'd only achieve such a shockwave by appearing right underneath Chaos Breaker, which I don't think is the case."

"Could this be a repeat of the teleportation incident?" Perugius asked.

"That could be the case. I disagree with that conclusion, though. There's something actively preventing me from uncovering its source. Isn't that right, Karowante?" Almanfi asked one of the men beside him.

"What Almanfi says bears a hint of truth, master. We connected the influx of mana in the teleportation incident to Asura as it began to coalesce. Unfortunately, this time, I cannot pinpoint its source's location. Forgive me."

"That's unfortunate."

"If you so wish it, master, I can comb the continents in search of the cause of this nuisance," Almanfi expressed, his eyes stuck to the ground.

"Oh? Go ahead."

Unlike Paramount's arrogant assertion of strength, Almanfi could easily carry out the declaration that spilled out from his mouth. Sylvaril understood this. Often, when cooking meals for her master, Sylvaril requested Almanfi's aid. If Perugius desired a meal from the Demon Continent, then Sylvaril would ask that Almanfi fetch whatever ingredient was required for the dishes she'd be cooking that day. Her friend possessed such admirable speed that he'd return before she managed to gather whatever food was needed from the kitchen. She did not doubt that Almanfi could scour the many kingdoms around Chaos Breaker in under a day.

"Your wish is my command, my lord."

Almanfi turned around and headed for the throne room's exit when his master raised his voice again, "Should you encounter Laplace, withdraw. Otherwise, eliminate whatever's caused this annoyance."

"Understood."

Perugius waited for Almanfi to disappear behind the throne room's exit before continuing to speak, "The rest of you, go sharpen your blades."

The ten remaining figures in front of Perugius genuflected before following in Almanfi's footsteps.

As Sylvaril navigated the echoing halls of Chaos Breaker, she prayed to her deity, imploring that Laplace's resurrection remain a distant hypothetical. Her plea was answered, but not as she'd hoped. The formidable foe they would face was not Laplace but a being of unimaginable power that transcended even the divine figures revered by the mortals of today.

/*/*/*/*/*/

"Is this all you managed to collect?" The Tomb of Nazarick's Head Butler asked as he lowered his gaze onto the mahogany table before him.

The piece of furniture was far too ornate for its intended purpose. Each of its legs was adorned with intrinsic carvings. The two legs closest to him depicted a pair of snakes coiling around the table's support. The two closest to the people he spoke to took the shape of tree trunks. Their leaves wrapped around the table's edges, carefully avoiding the smooth surface.

"Yes, Lord Sebas." The maid before him lowered a hefty pouch onto the table, "Is the amount unsatisfactory? Should Lord Ainz decree it, we'll retrieve a larger amount."

"That won't be necessary," Sebas tugged at the thin thread securing the pouch. He placed it onto his hands and inspected its innards. He hoisted one of the scales tuckered inside above his head and let it shine under the light of a crystal chandelier.

"These belong to a species of monster we ran into while securing Nazarick's perimeter. I estimate them to be under level 25. After discussing it with my sisters, they arrived at a similar conclusion. Narberal and I secured a specimen before returning. I assume I didn't overstep my bounds?"

"Not at all, Yuri. I'm sure Lord Ainz will be pleased," Sebas said while returning the scale to its pouch.

"We were merely doing the job the Supreme One entrusted us with," Yuri straightened her glasses, "Anyhow, a more precise detailing of our findings can be found here," the maid slid a stack of papers toward her superior.

"Understood," Sebas said, moving the report and the pouch into his inventory. "I'll repeat it; good job." He then stood up from his seat. The motion was delicate. Although the chair had no unique properties, it commanded the same respect as the rest of the Supreme Beings' possessions simply because it was a part of the Great Tomb, "If there's nothing else to discuss, I must take this information to our master."

Yuri nodded before stepping aside, allowing Sebas passage through the room. Although she led the Pleiade Six Stars, his position as their master's personal butler placed her below him in the tomb's hierarchy. Even if the roles were reversed, Yuri would have moved, much to Sebas' protest. The edges of her outfit brushed against the crimson carpet covering the room's marble floor as she made way. Her uniform, although plated, still maintained many of the signature components of a traditional mai outfit.

Yuri watched as Sebas exited the room. The door closed with a smooth click. Yuri kept still for fifteen seconds before gazing at the flowers atop the wooden table.

'These were grown on the Sixth Floor, weren't they?' Their petals hung low, like a traditional, one-piece entry doorknob; they radiated a pleasant smell. As a maid, it was her job to replace any flowers losing their allure. She'd have to contact one of the Treants residing on the Sixth Floor about attaining more.

"Alright," Yuri clasped her hands, "There's no time to waste!" She turned her body around before beginning her journey into the domain of a particular pair of Dark Elf twins.

/*/*/*/*/*/

"Your dedication to the Tomb is unrivaled, my lord!" Nazarick's Guardian Overseer broke the silence plaguing her master's delicately crafted office. "Your ability to remain calm in the face of such an unforeseeable disaster only deepens my resolve to serve you with even greater commitment. Truly, among the Forty-One Supreme Beings, only one is truly worthy of our eternal loyalty!" Albedo declared in a soft, motherly voice.

To most, the river of praise cascading from her glossy lips might have seemed like weak flattery. However, the man at her side knew that his right hand was speaking her truth, "I am undeserving of such praise, Albedo." The tall, imposing figure sitting behind a mountain of papers dismissed her proclamation of devotion with a wave of his hand, "Now, would you be as kind as to pass me Cocytus' report?"

"Of course."

With passion, Albedo watched as her beloved's crimson eyes scanned the documents she'd just handed him, "Cocytus has followed through with the orders you bestowed upon him. The blizzard around Snowball Earth has been activated per your request. Furthermore, he's requesting permission to send some of his forces to the Fourth Floor."

"I see."

Albedo waited until her master cast aside the document before continuing, "Should we reinstate the plan of action taken when we first arrived in the New World?"

"That won't be necessary. Tell Cocytus that he has my permission to dispatch some of the monsters under his command to Gargantua's domain. Make sure to inform Shalltear about this, too."

"Understood."

Albedo continued to watch as her lord absorbed the information plastered on the paperwork atop his desk. Though his face remained as calculating as ever, she could sense a hint of worry in the exasperated breaths he took. This was the second time their home had been transported to a new location. After being spirited away from the Marshes of Helheim, Nazarick had ended up amidst a sea of fertile plains. The event had taken the tomb by surprise. It was only through her master's quick thinking that Nazarick had managed to remain secluded and hidden from prying eyes for over a year. Even then, the tomb's exposure to the outside world was part of her master's undoubtedly limitless plan. Albedo did not doubt that Nazarick would never have been found if he had wished it.

Unfortunately, Albedo remained in the dark about the course of action her lord intended to take during this second cataclysm. Nevertheless, she knew that no matter what her beloved Momonga did, it'd only propel him and his devout followers into a higher standing. Her faith was more profound than Nazarick's coffers; if he were to instruct her to lay down her life for the betterment of the tomb, Albedo would willingly comply.

"Have the Pleiades returned?"

Her master's question pulled Albedo out of her distracted thoughts, "Yes. Sebas should be returning with their findings right about now."

Knock Knock

"Speak of the devil," Her master took a moment to clear his desk. After the stack of papers was whisked away into the drawer under his desk, he motioned for the silent maid at the edge of the room to open the door.

"Good day, lord Ainz." After greeting the Humonculus maid that ushered him in, Nazarick's Head Butler fell on one knee.

"Stand up, Sebas."

As the man stood up, Albedo examined Sebas' outfit. The pearly white handkerchief and tie embellishing his uniform neatly matched the discolored hair and beard resting on his face. The darkness of his blazer stood out amidst the sea of white.

"I assume you come bearing news?"

"Of course, my lord! I wouldn't dream of disturbing you without reason."

"Go ahead, then,"

"Right," Sebas cleared his throat before presenting the information that the Pleiades gathered during their expedition, "Firstly, it would appear that the Great Tomb of Nazarick has been transported into an underground system of caverns and tunnels."

Albedo let out a silent 'Hm?' of surprise.

"The tomb lays comfortable within a large cavern devoid of life. However, the mounds of moss infesting the cave's walls could mask the tomb's exterior without much trouble."

"You mentioned a system of tunnels. How many surround the tomb?" Albedo was fast to gloss over Sebas' suggestion of stealth.

"There are two tunnels that lead away from Nazarick. The first leads to a nest of over a hundred Drakes. It would seem that these Drakes control the cave system, as all three Pleiade duos encountered over a dozen during their scouting mission…" Sebas recounted Entoma's and Shizu's encounter with a large pack of these creatures: while making their way deeper into the cave, they came across a group of Drakes feasting on the corpses of giant, fur-covered apes.

"Lord Ainz, say the word, and we'll have these creatures exterminated," The scowl on Albedo's face forced Sebas to unsheath his handkerchief.

"Umu," her master shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Albedo. Culling the fauna of wherever we find ourselves won't serve a purpose. However, I am interested in procuring some of these Drakes. I wonder if Demiurge could create scrolls of the fourth tier with their remains."

"It is fortuitous that you should say that, my lord," Sebas took his master's apparent interest as an opportunity to speak up, "Those who discovered the nest, Yuri Alpha and Narberal Gamma, possessed the foresight to capture one of the Drakes. They handed it over to Lady Aura."

"Wonderful!"

The invisible smile on her master's skull attached itself to Albedo's face. It was infectious.

"Once we're done here, tell Aura to transfer it onto the Seventh Floor," Albedo watched as her lord's tone swiftly shifted from overjoyed to cold and mute, "...Anyhow, you mentioned two tunnels. Where does the other one lead to?"

"The remaining tunnel leads to a large ruin. Solution specifies that the buildings are etched into the cavern's walls. A swarm of Undead were spotted wandering around the area. Even from a distance, Solution and Lupus estimated them to be as strong as basic Skeletons. They won't pose a problem, my lord."

Sebas then handed her master a stack of documents. The Guardian Overseer and Head Butler stood silently until their lord finished browsing the report.

"I see…"

Albedo bore her eyes deep into her master's skull. She eagerly awaited whatever orders dribbled out of his mouth.

"Albedo."

"Yes, lord Ainz?" Albedo's ears perked up.

"Tell Demiurge that I wish to see him. I have a new set of orders for him."

"Very well, my lord," Albedo said, bowing her head. "I am certain Demiurge will be pleased to be of service. Since activating Nazarick's defenses, he has remained confined to his floor." While Albedo knew their master's will guided her comrade's actions, she believed his cunning intellect would be better utilized elsewhere. There wasn't much for Demiurge to accomplish within the Blazing Temple. Menial tasks such as organizing patrol routes could be delegated to his advisors.

"Yes, I feel bad for keeping him on standby while the rest of the Guardians have something to distract themselves with," Nazarick's Overlord voiced his agreement.

After concocting a plan of action for the coming days, Ainz instructed Sebas to resume his duties as Head Butler. Albedo quickly followed, needing to inform her comrade of the change in his agenda. This left Ainz and the lone maid standing by the office entrance as the room's only occupants.

/*/*/*/*/*/

"Foire," Ainz turned his head toward the girl at the room's edge.

"Y-Yes, my lord?" The Humonculus maid jumped at the mention of her name.

"I-I believe it is time for a change of shift," Ainz spoke in a soft, gentle voice. The girl's sudden reaction nearly made him flinch, as she had remained eerily quiet during her time in his office. Thus, he decided to address her in a more agreeable tone.

"You're right," Foire's eyes moved to the black clock hoisted on the wall behind her master's desk, "I-If you'll excuse me,"

"Umu," Ainz eyed the girl as she withdrew from his office. The timid look on her face as she left would've made him blush if he were still human.

…

"Ah! Finally!" Ainz sunk into his chair. Although unnecessary, he stretched his skeletal arms toward the horizon; relaxing the nonexistent muscles on his body was far too ingrained into his memory, "Sometimes, I begin to think that Undead being immune to exhaustion is a myth!" Ainz placed his head on his desk. I feel worked to the bone… heh.

Being the Supreme Leader of the Great Tomb of Nazarick had its benefits. Still, the long, arduous hours of reading mountains upon mountains of reports began getting to him. I should just hand this over to Titus. Ainz placed the Pleiades' report into his inventory. I can probably come up with some excuse about wanting a pair of whittled-down copies for the sake of archiving. Once he hands them over to me, I'll be able to actually understand what's happening. Ainz had only managed to take a carefree glance at the document during Sebas' assessment of their situation. I would've read the whole thing, but Albedo's intense stare kept distracting me! Ainz slammed his skull against his desk. No, that won't do. I won't have a repeat of last time.

During Nazarick's transportation to the New World, Ainz had delegated every task under his belt to the Floor Guardians. As such, it'd taken him a full week to understand what his subordinates were up to.

Ainz stared at the stack of papers pressed against his head. Ugh, fine. It'll be a few hours before Demiurge gets here. I best get to it! Ainz took a deep breath, straightened his back, and began to read.