The Slane Theocracy – The Sanctuary of the Six Great Gods
The sky over Kami Miyako didn't break; it bowed.
A pressure, ancient and suffocating, descended upon the capital of humanity. It wasn't the sharp, killing intent of a demon. It was the heavy, crushing weight of a mountain deciding to float.
Zesshi Zetsumei sat on the altar, swinging her mismatched legs. She chewed on her thumb nail.
"He's here," she hummed. A tune of bored violence.
The Captain of the Black Scripture stood by the massive double doors, sweating. He was a man who could slay dragons, yet the aura leaking through the wood made his knees want to buckle.
"Zesshi," he hissed. "Behave. If we provoke him, the Theocracy ends today."
"Let it end," she smiled, her eyes glinting with madness. "If he's strong enough to end us, maybe he's strong enough to give me a child."
BOOM.
The doors didn't open. They disintegrated.
Platinum light flooded the sanctuary, erasing shadows. Through the dust, a figure walked. It was human-shaped—a suit of armor so ornate it hurt to look at. Thirteen remote-controlled weapons floated in a halo behind it.
Tsaindorcus Vaision. The Platinum Dragon Lord.
He stopped ten paces from the altar. The air smelled of ozone and lizard scale.
"You possess a World Item," the armor spoke. The voice was telepathic, bypassing their ears to vibrate their skulls. "The Downfall of Castle and Country. Bring it out."
The Captain stepped forward, trembling but holding his ground. "Lord Dragon. By what right do you demand—"
"By the right of survival, little human."
One of the floating greatswords detached from the halo. It didn't attack. It simply drove itself into the marble floor, sinking in up to the hilt like a hot knife through butter.
"The Sorcerer King," Tsaindorcus rumbled, his helmet turning toward Zesshi. "He is an infection. A cancer on reality. I felt him tear the sky an hour ago. Did you feel it, Half-Elf?"
Zesshi hopped off the altar. She dragged her scythe, Charon's Guidance, behind her. Sparks flew.
"I felt a challenge," she grinned. "Are you afraid of the skeleton, Dragon?"
"I am prudent. There is a difference."
Tsaindorcus ignored her mockery. "Ainz Ooal Gown is growing. The barrier between worlds is thinning. Soon, more like him will come. Or worse... the ones who created him."
"Players," the Captain whispered.
"Filth," Tsaindorcus corrected. "I intend to kill him before he anchors the invasion. But his stronghold... Nazarick... is impenetrable to Wild Magic alone."
He extended a gauntleted hand.
"Ally with me. Use your World Item to strip his mind defenses. If you bind him, I will crush his phylactery. We will end the threat together."
Silence stretched in the hall.
The Theocracy taught that non-humans were vermin to be exterminated. Yet here stood the mightiest non-human, offering them the head of the devil.
"And if we refuse?" Zesshi tilted her head.
"Then I burn this city to ensure he doesn't capture your Item," Tsaindorcus stated. No malice. Just a statement of strategic fact.
Zesshi laughed. A sharp, biting sound.
"I like you! You're almost as arrogant as me." She looked to the shadows where the Cardinals were hiding, listening. "Well? Grandpa? Do we deal with the lizard?"
A voice quavered from the hidden passage. The Raymond Zarg.
"We... accept the alliance. Temporary. Until the Undead King falls."
Tsaindorcus nodded. "Prepare your forces. We march on the Sorcerer Kingdom. Not for territory. But for extermination."
As the Dragon Lord turned to leave, Zesshi watched his back. Her grin faded slightly.
"Hey, lizard."
He paused.
"If we kill the Skeleton... who kills you?"
Tsaindorcus didn't look back.
"If we win, I will let you try."
Nazarick – The 1st Floor – Entrance Hall
Ainz adjusted his gauntlets for the tenth time.
Right gauntlet. Tight. Left gauntlet. Tight. Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown. Secure. Divine-class robes. Immaculate.
He was stalling.
He stood before the massive gates of Nazarick, staring into the dark gloom of the outside world. It was raining—a cold, miserable drizzle that slicks armor and depresses souls.
"Ainz-sama."
Albedo knelt beside him. Her head was bowed, but her hands were gripping the hem of her dress so hard the fabric was tearing.
"Please. Reconsider." Her voice was tight, strained. "Taking the Twins is dangerous. Allow me to accompany you. If this... 'Knight' is truly a threat..."
"No," Ainz said. He tried to sound regal. He sounded, to his own ears, like a man trying to explain to his mom why he couldn't take her to the cool party. "Your duty is here, Albedo. You must command the defense if this is a diversion. I cannot risk the Guardian Overseer on a reconnaissance mission."
I can't risk you because you're a loose cannon! his inner voice screamed. If it really is Touch Me, or an imprint of him, I need people who will listen to 'Retreat!' instantly. Aura and Mare are obedient. You... you get weird when other Supreme Beings are mentioned.
Ainz remembered the formation of her "Search Squad." He had approved it, thinking she wanted to find his friends. But lately, looking at the Tabula Smaragdina settings... he had doubts. Dark doubts.
"But—"
"Enough."
Ainz unleashed a fraction of his aura. The black smoke of Despair Aura V rolled off him. The Level 1 NPCs in the hall collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
Albedo stiffened. She looked up, eyes wide, cheeks flushing pink.
"Forgive me, my love! Your dominance... makes me tremble!"
"Umu. Good. Stay here."
Ainz walked past her, signaling to the two small figures waiting by the gate.
Aura Bella Fiora and Mare Bello Fiore. The Dark Elf twins.
Aura bounced on her heels, her dragon-skin whip coiled at her hip. "Ready to go, Ainz-sama! Is it a raid? Are we killing it?"
"We are investigating, big sister," Mare mumbled, clutching his staff Shadow of Yggdrasil. "A-Ainz-sama said to capture, not kill."
"Correct," Ainz said. He placed a hand on Mare's head. The boy froze, trembling with joy. "However... this entity may resemble one of my old comrades. Do not hesitate. If I give the order, you attack. Even if he looks like a friend."
Because if it's Touch Me, he can one-shot both of you.
"We won't hesitate!" Aura saluted.
Ainz looked at the smartphone in his inventory one last time.
[Target: TouchMe]
[Status: Hostile]
[Distance: 10km]
"Let's go."
Ainz cast [Gate]. The purple vortex swirled, smelling of rain and betrayal.
As they stepped through, Ainz didn't see the look on Albedo's face. It wasn't the usual lust. It was a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred, directed not at him, but at the portal itself.
When the gate closed, Albedo stood up. She smoothed her dress.
"Nigredo," she whispered into the empty air. "Track them. Prepare the specialized unit."
"Albedo," a shivering voice echoed from nowhere. "Lord Ainz... forbade it..."
"Lord Ainz is too kind," Albedo said, her smile stretching too wide, splitting her face into a crescent of beautiful horror. "He believes his old friends abandoned him by mistake. He does not understand that leaving him... was a sin worthy of death."
She drew her axe.
"I will correct that mistake."
The Abandoned Plains – Re-Estize Border
The mud sucked at Ainz's boots.
The [Gate] deposited them in a desolate wasteland. This area had once been a series of farming villages. Now, after the war, it was a graveyard of burnt timbers and wild grass reclaiming the dead.
The rain fell harder here.
Ainz cast [Life Essence]. Nothing.
He cast [Mana Essence]. Nothing.
"Master," Aura pointed. Her sharp elven eyes saw through the gloom better than magic. "There."
Ainz squinted.
Through the grey curtain of rain, a figure was walking.
It didn't trudge. It glided. Every step was measured, perfect, mechanical.
A silver cape, soaked red with... rain? No. The cape was naturally crimson. The armor shone with a brilliance that defied the cloudy sky. Pure, white-silver plate, inscribed with runes of justice. A shield shaped like a scarab.
Ainz felt his breath catch.
Touch Me.
The silhouette was unmistakable. It was the World Champion. The man who had saved Ainz when he was just a weak skeleton mage being PK'd by humans. The man who built the guild.
A lump formed in Ainz's throat—the Phantom of emotion.
Is it you? Really?
"Touch Me-san?" Ainz called out. He didn't use magic amplification. He used his human voice.
The figure stopped. Fifty meters away.
It turned its head. The helm was a sleek, insectoid visor. No eyes visible. Just smooth, justice-infused metal.
[Scanning...] a mechanical voice echoed across the field. Not spoken, but projected.
"Identity confirmed: Momonga. Guild Master. Ainz Ooal Gown."
Ainz stepped forward, hope battling paranoia. "It is I. Touch Me... how are you here? The servers..."
[Target Identified as: CORRUPTED VARIANT.]
The voice changed. It wasn't Touch Me's friendly, heroic baritone. It was the voice of a Text-to-Speech program reading a death sentence.
[Protocol 4: Purge.]
The figure vanished.
"Ainz-sama!" Aura screamed.
SHING.
Space tore open directly in front of Ainz. No spell casting time. No teleportation circle. Just pure, instant displacement—a World Champion skill: [Dimension Gap].
A blade of pure light descended toward Ainz's skull.
Too fast.
Ainz's mind registered the attack, but his mage stats couldn't react. This was warrior territory. This was the gap between a casual roleplayer and a competitive champion.
CLANG!
The earth shattered.
Mare.
The timid elf had reacted on instinct. He had swung his staff upward, not to attack, but to block. The Shadow of Yggdrasil clashed with Touch Me's sword.
The shockwave liquified the ground for a hundred meters. Mud geysered into the sky like black oil.
Mare flew backward, skipping like a stone across the mud. "Ugh!"
"Mare!" Ainz roared.
He saw the health bar of his Guardian drop by 40% in a single hit. Blocked? That was a block? One hit took half a tank's health through a divine weapon?
The Silver Knight didn't pause. It spun, the cape swirling like blood, preparing a follow-up strike on the airborne elf.
"Don't you ignore me!" Aura cracked her whip. [Skill: Galactic Shot].
The whip extended, breaking the sound barrier, aiming for the Knight's legs to trip him.
The Knight didn't dodge. He stepped into the whip, took the hit on his greaves—taking zero damage—and grabbed the leather cord.
He yanked.
Aura, Level 100 Ranger, was hauled through the air like a ragdoll.
"[World Break]," the machine voice intoned.
The Knight raised his sword. The space around the blade fractured like broken glass. This was the ultimate skill. The skill that cut through reality itself.
If that hits Aura, she dies. No resurrection. It cuts the soul data.
Panic exploded in Ainz's mind.
DO SOMETHING!
"[Triplet Maximize Magic: Call of the Greater Thunder]!" Ainz screamed.
Three massive bolts of yellow lightning struck the Knight.
[Damage Immune.]
The Knight didn't even flinch. His magic defense was legendary.
"Sorry, Aura!" Ainz cast the only thing he knew could stop a physical powerhouse.
"[Body of Effulgent Beryl]!" (On himself).
"[Perfect Warrior]!"
Ainz transformed. His robes vanished, replaced by the obsession-black armor created by his magic. He drew two greatswords from his inventory—weapons he had taken from other guild members.
He didn't cast a spell. He threw his body between the Knight and Aura.
SHUNK.
The World Break came down.
Ainz parried. Not with skill—he had none compared to a champion. He parried with health points.
His swords shattered. The strike cut through his pauldrons, deep into his skeletal shoulder. His HP plummeted.
[-75%]
One hit.
"Guh..." Ainz fell to one knee, sparks flying from the wound. The pain was dull, muted, but the shock was absolute.
He was Level 100. He was a God. And he almost got one-shotted.
The Silver Knight looked down at him. The visor reflected Ainz's broken form.
[Elimination imminent.] The Knight raised the sword again.
"Why..." Ainz rasped. "We... were friends..."
[Friends are data,] the bot replied. [Data is corrupt.]
It was an execution. Ainz couldn't move. The stun status from the blow was still active.
The sword fell.
BOOM!
A blur of black and violet slammed into the Knight from the side.
It wasn't a spell. It was a tackle. A tackle fueled by insanity and obsession.
Albedo.
She was fully armored, her massive axe 3F buried deep in the Knight's shield arm. The impact sent the Knight skidding back ten meters.
"Albedo?" Ainz gasped. "I told you..."
"You told me to stay!" Albedo turned. Her helmet was gone. Her face was a mask of tear-streaked fury. "You told me to trust!"
She pointed her axe at the Silver Knight—at the image of Touch Me, the Creator of Sebas, the most respected Supreme Being.
"Look at it, Momonga!" she screamed, using his true name. "Look at what they are! They aren't your friends! They are systems! They are things that left us!"
The Silver Knight re-adjusted its stance. The wound on its arm hissed, polygons re-knitting.
[Unit Albedo. Behavior Irregular. Betrayal detected.]
"Betrayal?" Albedo laughed. It was a sound of glass breaking. "You think this is betrayal?"
She spread her wings. A darkness deeper than the Abyss poured out of her. This wasn't the skill of a tank. This was the hidden setting Tabula had written—the darker aspect of her nature.
"Betrayal is leaving," Albedo hissed. "Betrayal is making him cry."
She charged.
"KILL HIM!" she shrieked to the heavens.
From the muddy ground, shadows erupted. Not Ainz's summons. Her summons. Level 80 executioners she had been secretly training. The Unit she built to hunt Supreme Beings.
Fifteen assassins latched onto the Knight, weighing him down.
"Albedo, stop!" Ainz yelled, standing up, his arm hanging uselessly by a thread of bone. "That is Touch Me!"
Albedo didn't look back. She raised her axe high, tears streaming down her face as she prepared to decapitate the icon of the Guild's past.
"No, Ainz-sama," she sobbed, swinging the blade.
"This is just trash that needs to be taken out."
CRUNCH.
The axe bit into the silver helmet. The illusion of the invincible hero shattered.
Underneath the helmet, there was no face. Just glowing blue code.
The Knight roared—a digital screech—and released a pulse of energy that blew Albedo and her assassins backward.
It hovered in the air, missing half its helmet.
[Danger Level Escalated.]
[Unlocking Restrictions.]
[Initiating World-Class Enemy Protocol.]
The Knight began to grow. Silver armor warped into dragon scales. The crimson cape became wings of blood.
Ainz stared. This wasn't Touch Me.
This was the Raid Boss they had fought together ten years ago, wearing his friend's skin.
"Retreat..." Ainz whispered, the terror finally piercing his emotional suppression.
"EVERYONE RETREAT!"