After a brief counsel on how best to subdue the facsimiles of Frieren and Ainz—and to halt the advancing clones bound for the lowest floor—the four reached a solemn conclusion. Only four could proceed. And, as if fate had already decreed it, only four remained: Ainz, Frieren, Fern, and Methode. The others had left, vanishing into the labyrinth's corridors to intercept the approaching horde.
This division was not a mere whim of Ainz's own making. Methode's inclusion was obvious. With her vast reservoir of mana and her devastatingly potent offensive magic, she was an ideal candidate for this engagement.
As for Frieren's choice, Ainz did not inquire. Even so, he could guess. She had brought Fern, and Ainz believed he understood why. It was because Fern was aware of her own shortcomings. Or so he assumed.
Ainz positioned himself near the entrance, while the others kept a cautious distance. It was an old habit—an instinct ingrained by endless battles and dungeon delving, the entrance would be riddled with deadly traps. His fingers moved with practiced ease, layer upon layer of magic weaving around him, silent and unseen. The women behind him watched, exchanging glances of curiosity and apprehension.
Yet Ainz did not cast protections upon himself alone, Ainz also cast several buffs on the three women before. This was done to counter any kind of magic that might prove dangerous to them—especially coming from Ainz himself.
At last, he spoke.
"Alright. It's time."
He turned his gaze to the door, raising a skeletal hand.
"[Create Middle-Tier Undead – Death Knight.]"
A sinister magic circle flared into existence at his feet. From the abyssal depths of necromantic power, an armored warrior emerged. Its blackened steel gleamed in the dim light, a massive serrated sword resting in its gauntleted hands. The very presence of the undead warrior exuded an unnatural chill, its empty gaze devoid of life, yet filled with relentless purpose.
Methode's eyes widened slightly. "That's… unlike any magic I've ever seen." She crossed her arms, her expression a mix of fascination and unease. "It's terrifying."
"Miss Frieren, do you know what kind of magic this is?" Fern asked, standing stiffly beside her master, eyes locked onto the undead knight.
"No," Frieren answered, her voice devoid of emotion.
But in truth, her mind was racing.
The magic circle Ainz had used—it was unlike anything she had ever encountered. There was no resemblance to the known structures of this world's magic. It reinforced a suspicion she had harbored since their first meeting.
Ainz paid them no mind. His attention remained fixed on his undead servant.
"Open this door and proceed forward," he commanded.
Without hesitation, the towering knight obeyed. It strode forward, pushing open the heavy doors with ease. And the moment it crossed the threshold—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Three explosions roared through the air, consuming the undead in fire and debris. When the dust settled, nothing remained of the Death Knight.
It was expected.
"Let's go," Frieren said, already stepping forward.
Without waiting for further instruction, she, Fern, and Methode rushed into the chamber. Ainz had already moved ahead, standing at the center of the battlefield, facing two figures—one of whom he had no knowledge of their true power.
A blinding purple beam tore through the air, forcing Ainz's Clone and Frieren's Clone apart. Frieren had attacked first, unsurprisingly.
Meanwhile, Fern and Methode had already taken cover behind separate pillars, their roles in the battle predetermined. Fern's task was to strike Frieren's Clone whenever an opening presented itself. Methode's role was to prevent Ainz's Clone from casting spells.
The chamber's doors shut behind them.
The battle had begun.
White flames surged around Ainz's Clone—[Vermilion Nova]. In the split second before the inferno consumed its target, Ainz caught sight of his clone casting the same spell. But then—a sudden burst of blue energy struck the forming magic circle, disrupting the spell before it could manifest.
Ainz wasted no time.
"[Maximize Magic—Gravity Maelstrom.]"
A sphere of crushing force materialized in the air, spiraling toward his double. Upon contact, it would unleash devastating destruction—
But his clone responded instantly by using [Wall Of Skeleton].
A barrier of ghastly, chattering bones rose from the ground, intercepting the gravitational sphere. The momentary reprieve allowed Ainz's Clone to counterattack.
Three lightning surged through the air, striking Ainz in rapid succession—[Triplet Maximize Magic, Call Greater Thunder]. Energy crackled across his skeletal form. The attack was potent. But not enough to faze him.
Before this, from across the battlefield, Methode fired a devastating magical strike at Ainz's Clone, seeking to interrupt his casting.
The attack failed.
Methode narrowed her eyes. "But I hit him…" she muttered.
She observed the battle unfolding between Ainz and his clone. Neither had moved from their initial positions. It was a battle fought purely through magic, a clash of absolute precision and calculation.
Frieren's battle was a different kind of storm.
Fern's eyes darted between the two clashes, but her focus remained on her master's fight. Compared to Ainz's eerie stillness, Frieren's battle was chaos itself.
Fern could see that her master was currently in a defensive position. Wild purple flashes struck relentlessly, bouncing off Frieren's magical barrier. The roar of thunder echoed in the air as streaks of electricity crawled across the magic shield. Frieren remained unwavering, her eyes sharply fixed on her clone—a false self that mimicked her every move with terrifying precision.
Without hesitation, Frieren countered. From the tip of her staff, the same purple flashes erupted, shooting toward the clone at incredible speed. However, the clone did not defend. Instead, it moved, maneuvering through the air with almost imperceptible speed before pointing its staff at Frieren. Blazing-hot fire burst forth, glowing red, rolling like a tidal wave ready to consume everything.
The fire magic surged fiercely, scorching the air around it, but Frieren remained calm. She raised her staff, and the same fire spewed from it. The two waves of flames collided midair, creating a massive explosion that scattered sparks of light in every direction.
Fern watched closely. This battle was not just a clash of power but also a duel of strategy—and for the first time, she saw her master being forced into continuous defense.
Then, she realized something.
The clone's movements were getting faster, its attacks becoming more aggressive. It dashed toward Frieren, closing the distance between them, another spell forming at the tip of its staff.
And there was the opening.
If the clone was this close to attack, its defenses had to be vulnerable.
Without wasting a second, Fern raised her staff. Her breath was steady. Her eyes focused.
This was the moment she had been waiting for.
Below the battlefield, Ainz was currently observing his Elemental Skull—summoned using his spell—and a Primal Fire Elemental, which he had called forth using a wand from his inventory, since he was not holding the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
His clone had failed to summon an Elemental Skull—thanks to Methode's interference. But Ainz's Clone had managed to summon a Primal Fire Elemental and two Death Knights, bolstering its defenses.
Then, from the corner of his vision, a blue energy beam shot through the air, striking Frieren's Clone mid-movement.
Ainz watched as debris rained down, his eyes flickered.
A spell of at least Tier 9 or 10? Maybe I'm truly in a different world.*
Ainz activated [Message, establishing a private link with Methode.
"Methode, attack the two shielded undead near him," he instructed, referring to the Death Knights. "Use strong magic. And don't just attack once."
There was no verbal response. None was needed. Ainz got his answer through action.
Four—or more—blasts of magical energy streaked across the battlefield, slamming into the Death Knights with precision. Their armor cracked. Their bodies shattered. Within moments, they were no more.
Ainz clone turned his head toward Methode's location.
Ainz did not waste the opportunity.
Using [Fly, he ascended instantly. With no hesitation, he unleashed [Triplet Maximize Magic—Reality Slash, followed by [Vermilion Nova] from his Elemental Skull.
Flames erupted as the spells struck their target. But Ainz Clone had already evaded two of the slashes—one through [Greater Teleportation, the other by conjuring [Wall of Skeletons] to absorb the blow.
"Impressive!" Ainz called out, his voice ringing through the chamber. "You truly can imitate me!"
He spread his arms wide, his skeletal frame bathed in the flickering glow of dying flames.
"But there can only be one Ainz Ooal Gown! And I will not be replaced by a mere imitation!"
As his declaration echoed, the ground trembled—another violent explosion from Frieren's battle.
Both Ainz and his clone turned toward the source. Instinct. A reaction neither could suppress.
Frieren's clone lay on the ground, her robes scorched and torn. She had taken significant damage. Before she could retaliate, a barrage of blue projectiles rained down on her—relentless, precise.
Fern.
Frieren's clone struggled to rise, but her moment of weakness was all the real Frieren needed.
She moved — fast.
A streak of violet light, closing the distance in an instant. A final spell erupted from her staff.
The ensuing explosion consumed her clone entirely. When the dust settled—nothing remained.
"Looks like your companion is finished, imposter," Ainz taunted, descending slowly. "Now, it's your turn."
A radiant blue beam pierced the air—Methode's attack. The blast struck Ainz's clone Primal Fire Elemental, dealing devastating damage.
At the same time, Ainz's Elemental Skull and his own Primal Fire Elemental followed up, obliterating the weakened creature.
The battlefield shifted.
Ainz's clone scanned his surroundings. He was at a clear disadvantage.
Yet, he showed no concern.
The surviving Primal Fire Elemental lunged at him. It never reached its target.
A sudden detonation—[Explode Mine]—engulfed the elemental in flames, reducing it to cinders.
Ainz narrowed his eyes.
Tch. So he prepared a countermeasure in advance.*
Now, the clone was surrounded. Three magic casters capable of harming him. And the real Ainz himself.
Ainz's clone glared at his original.
Ainz pondered—what would he do if placed in such a desperate situation? The biggest difficulty in this fight was one thing: Ainz couldn't fully predict which spells would be cast, as the clone never spoke—all of its magic seemed to be enhanced with [Silent Magic] metamagic.
And then—
Darkness gathered.
A vortex of spiraling void, expanding around Ainz's clone.
Ainz's crimson eyes flared.
"Everyone!" he roared. "Hit the imposter with everything you've got!"
A barrage of attacks rained down on Ainz's clone from all sides. It seemed that he had finally entered his serious mode, completely disregarding the fact that the battle was taking place in an enclosed space.
Ainz could sense that [Dimensional Lock] and [Hellfire Wall] had been activated—clear proof that the clone intended to wipe everyone out with no chance of escape.
However, the spell had already been set in motion, and Ainz's clone wasn't foolish enough to remain in an active kill zone. He used [Greater Teleportation] to relocate—straight into the sky.
Tch, how annoying. So he distracted everyone just to pull that off, huh?*
As Frieren, Fern, and Methode halted their attacks, the vortex below erupted.
A shriek echoed through the chamber.
Then another.
And another.
Dozens of demons burst forth from the dark maelstrom—Hell Scythes, their wings cutting through the air as they swarmed toward them.
So our previous attacks wiped out the weaker demons that were supposed to spawn.*
Ainz's voice cut through the chaos.
"Be careful! Once you destroy these demons, stronger ones will follow!" He shouted.
Frieren remained still, watching the sky.
Her gaze drifted back to Ainz.
This Ainz… if he isn't a demon, then he must be something far worse.*
--
Fern, for some reason, was suddenly overwhelmed by fear.
Was this because she had nearly died earlier from Miss Frieren's clone? Or was it because she now saw dozens of winged demons flying toward her at high speed?
I don't know. But one thing is certain—they need to be eliminated.*
As she maneuvered through the sky, dodging every demon that tried to slice her apart with their scythe-like weapons, she countered with [Zoltraak, effortlessly cutting them down. A quick glance below revealed Frieren and the others engaged in battle against this horde of demons that had appeared from seemingly nowhere.
It was then that Fern's eyes met those of Clone Ainz.
That gaze—it was terrifying, far more than she had expected. She had seen the real Ainz before, and he was certainly an intimidating figure. Yet, for some reason, the aura radiating from this clone was infinitely more horrifying.
Suddenly, a paralyzing sensation swept over Fern's entire body—her movements halted.
What is this? My body feels weak.*
So weak, in fact, that she barely noticed the four—no, six—demons now closing in on her. Her altitude dropped rapidly, bringing her dangerously close to the ground.
Fortunately, she still had the strength to strike.
Her gaze met Clone Ainz's once more, but just as quickly, her view was obscured by the sudden appearance of [Doom Lord, summoned by the clone. The monstrous entity let out a deafening roar, yet it did not move. It simply hovered at his side.
And then, without warning, every single demon Fern and the others had been fighting perished.
She vaguely registered Ainz saying something, but the only word she caught clearly was "-aura, level 5".
Meanwhile, more demons emerged from within a black circle. Unlike the mantis-like creatures from before, these new demons were beyond description—towering over two meters tall, their forms exuding an overwhelming sense of dread.
At that moment, the sound of church bells rang through the space, immediately followed by the piercing scream of a woman.