Nearly nine years had passed.
By now, I had already raided almost every guild—small and large alike. Around ninety-five percent of them had fallen to my hands, and my suspicion had proven correct.
Even back in the eighth year, many players had already stopped logging in. By the ninth year, perhaps only eighteen percent were still active—and even they rarely stayed long. Two hours. Four at most.
Raiding became easier with each passing month.
Because of the overwhelming amount of loot I had obtained from countless raids, I expanded the Vault of Nazarick even further.
The developers themselves were actually surprised that someone was still actively playing their game after all this time. Amused—or perhaps impressed—they granted Henry a significant discount on the massive number of vault expansions he requested.
After all, few players would invest so much into a game that was slowly fading away.
The Treasury of Nazarick expanded to nearly sixty times its original capacity, swollen with countless spoils of war. Gold, divine-class equipment, rare materials—everything piled higher than ever before.
And most impressive of all, I had managed to collect nearly one hundred and eighty-seven World Items from dungeon raids and conquered guilds. The remaining ones had yet to be discovered by any player… which meant I would have to search for them myself.
Pandora's Actor also seemed especially delighted when I ordered him to organize the accumulated treasures.
I permitted him to play with items up to seven-star rarity, anything above that was strictly forbidden.
To prevent accidents, I created a separate experimental chamber where he could freely test the abilities of those items without risking damage the other artifacts.
I also had an additional room constructed for him to use as his personal chamber. The one originally provided by Ainz had been little more than a sofa and empty space. So I designed a proper resting area for him.
And when he saw it, he looked genuinely pleased with his new room.
Oh, right—since I'm living with Ulbert now, I decided to rent out the mansion.
I leased it to one of the remaining YGGDRASIL players. He wanted a private place to spend time with his wife—basically, a honeymoon. And the fee he offered wasn't small at all.
So, while I was busy taking care ublert, the mansion was temporarily rented out. No point in letting such a grand place sit unused, after all.
-----
Henry also often spent his time playing and speaking with the NPCs—whether it was the twins, Alastor, Demiurge, or others like the maids and Sebas.
At times, he would spar with Cocytus, Alastor, or Shalltear, treating the battles as both training and entertainment.
Occasionally, he gave gifts to the NPCs as well—elegant dresses, formal suits, high-level armor he no longer used (aside from World Items, which were a different matter).
He would give beautiful hair ornaments to the female NPCs, and refined decorative accessories for the male NPCs' outfits. None of it was low-grade, even the items he gave away were of exceptionally high level.
Ulbert's condition had also gradually begin to improve. However, he still needed proper rest after undergoing physical therapy, and most of his time outside the game was spent recovering.
With little else to occupy my time, I resumed my hunt for World Items, making use of old forum archives and hidden discussion threads. I even purchased several special maps from the developers—maps containing information about World Items that were still scattered across the world. They offered them at a fairly low price.
Perhaps because I was one of the very few players still actively logging in.
Well… Momonga still played as well. But he spent most of his time wandering through Nazarick, overseeing its halls and guardians. He never seemed particularly interested in raiding anymore.
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[TIME SKIP]
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The final day of YGGDRASIL was drawing near… and at last, I had collected every single World Item.
Now, there's only three of us who were still playing—Momonga, Ulbert, and me. But because of Ulbert's leg condition, which caused him to tire easily, he only logged in for short periods. Most of the time, he simply talked with Momonga rather than going out adventuring.
Two days remained until YGGDRASIL's shutdown.
Then, Ulbert and I received a message from Momonga. He asked us to come on the very last day.
Ulbert initially wanted to refuse.
The shutdown was scheduled for midnight, and he already knew he would need to rest by then. His body still wasn't fully recovered, and staying up that late would only exhaust him.
But I pleaded with him. I asked—no, I insisted, that he log in at least once more. Just for a little while. Just to speak with Momonga one last time before everything ended.
At first, he remained silent.
Then he sighed.
Perhaps it was because he understood how much it meant to me. Or perhaps… because he still felt a sense of gratitude for everything I had done to help him through his illness. In the end, Ulbert agreed.
He would come—because it was my request.
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Before the world transfer… before everything shifted beyond return, Henry made one final decision.
He transferred all money to his former guildmates—especially to those who needed it. To friends like TouchMe, who had once struggled to balance his salary with the needs of his family, and to the others as well.
In total, he divided it among thirty-eight members. He used the old transfer numbers they had once provided back when he helped fund Nazarick's upgrades. The accounts were still saved.
After all… if he was about to close this chapter of his life for good—then there was no sense in leaving the wealth to gather dust in a place he would never return to.
Money meant nothing if it could no longer be used.
Better to give it the people he once stood beside him, who could actually benefit from it.
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I logged in first after having dinner with Ulbert. He said he would join later, after resting for a while.
When I entered the game, I saw that Ainz was already there—but none of the others had arrived yet. It was only half past five in the evening, after all.
With nothing else to do, to occupy my time, an idea suddenly crossed my mind.
I asked to borrow the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown—offering a reasonable excuse, of course, and after a moment of hesitation Momonga finally agreed. With the staff in my hands, I began adjusting several NPC settings… specifically, the way they perceived me.
It was only a small change. Nothing that would disrupt Nazarick—just enough to slightly alter how they addressed and saw me.
"I only want to adjust how they see me," I said calmly. "Their creator keeps calling me 'Daddy.' Maybe changing their perception of me to 'Grandfather' or 'Father' would be quite funny and amusing."
Since what I intended wouldn't alter any core character data or fundamental settings, Momonga visibly relaxed. It wasn't a drastic modification—merely a minor adjustment to my title in their eyes.
After a brief pause, he allowed it.
He even remained at my side while I made the changes.
Perhaps because he didn't feel comfortable leaving me alone with the guild weapon… or perhaps on this nearly final day, he simply didn't want to be alone.
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And to our surprise, when we checked my information in the NPC settings, many of them listed me as the father of the Forty-One Supreme Beings.
Momonga froze. Then he slowly turned his skull toward me "…Father?"
I blinked. "Don't look at me like that."
"You never told me we were related."
"I didn't know either!" I shot back. "Forty-one children? Do you know how expensive that would be? Raising all of you was exhausting."
Momonga placed a hand on his chin. "So that makes me… what? your rebellious undead son?"
"Very rebellious," I nodded. "sigh... But you've always been the quiet one," I replied solemnly. He let out a hollow chuckle.
Momonga sighed dramatically. "I see. So all this time, the guild weapon belonged to my father."
"Correct. You should show more respect."
He paused, then added carefully, "Wait… if you're the father of the Forty-One Supreme Beings… does that mean we all had the same parent? Where is the other one?"
I gave him a slow look. "Do you really want to question the lore right now?"
"…No," he answered immediately.
For a moment, momonga and I could only stare at one another—then quietly laugh.
"But I do not recall ever getting adoption from anyone," Momonga said dryly.
"You don't remember the paperwork?" I replied with a straight face. "It was a very emotional day, lots of crying."
"…From whom?"
"From me," I answered solemnly. "Forty-one signatures. My hand still hasn't recovered."
Momonga shook his head. "This must be their last prank. There is a possiblelity that they secretly coded you as our father."
I shrugged lightly. "If I am the Father of the Forty-One Supreme Beings… does that mean I outrank you?"
Momonga went completely silent. "…Absolutely not."
"Grounded."
"Henry."
"Yes, my child?"
He let out the long, exhausted sigh of a guildmaster who had clearly lost control of the situation. "…I regret logging in early."
I smiled faintly. Momonga assumed it must have been one final prank from our old friends—something they had secretly left behind for Henry. Maybe he truly believed it was just a prank, but I knew better.
I knew exactly why that setting existed...
The NPCs had already begun to show signs of sentience—even before the world transfer.
Which meant—Somewhere along the way, they had decided that I was their creator father.
Shaking my head in amusement, I decided to add a few details of my own.
I wrote that Henry was extremely territorial. No one was allowed to enter his room unless there was an emergency. The only exception would be Demiurge, who was permitted to enter freely and take care of Henry.
After all, according to the story setting—Demiurge was his husband.
----
As we walked through Nazarick, we noticed some of the NPCs were visibly damaged.
Like one of Albedo's sisters had a distorted, ruined face. A few maids were incomplete—one without a face, another without vocal cords. There were even rooms assigned to certain NPCs that looked uninhabitable, neglected remnants of unfinished designs.
Momonga and I exchanged a silent look. Without needing to say much, we agreed. We would fix them.
Carefully, we repaired the damaged settings—restoring faces, voices, and structural details. We also renovated the broken rooms, making them properly livable.
We both knew that the other members, if they were here, would have wanted the very best for the NPCs they had created.
This might be the last day of YGGDRASIL. But Nazarick would not end in a state of neglect.