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The red glow in Ainz's eye sockets was no longer flickering. It had dimmed to the brink of going out.
Every bone in his body creaked under unbearable strain. He poured every ounce of strength into keeping himself from collapsing to his knees—though, technically, he was already seated. Even so, the tremor rising from the depths of his very soul was impossible to suppress.
Right before his eyes, that colossal sword of light—vast enough to pierce heaven and earth—descended… slowly… almost like a scene in slow motion.
A single micrometer.
Just one micrometer.
BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!
An indescribable shockwave and explosion of light erupted from the sword's tip, expanding outward in a perfect sphere. Wherever it passed, the earth didn't just crack—it vanished. As if some invisible maw had swallowed all matter in its path.
The shockwave tore straight toward the procession.
Death Knights and their Nightmare steeds were vaporized in an instant. The luxurious carriage began to disintegrate like a flimsy toy made of paper.
Ainz and Albedo's pupils—well, eye sockets—contracted to their limits. Neither of them doubted that in the next instant, they would meet the same fate.
And yet—
Just before the wave of destruction could swallow them whole…
Everything stopped.
The pure white sky snapped back to blue.
The massive rift of light across the heavens silently sealed itself.
That hundred-thousand-meter sword of judgment vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed.
The devastating shockwave, the trembling earth, the annihilation of matter… all of it ceased.
Sunlight poured down once more, gentle and warm. A soft breeze brushed past.
And yet…
From where Illya had stood, stretching all the way to the distant horizon, there now lay a chasm—hundreds of meters wide, bottomless, smooth as a mirror, as if carved open by a god's blade. The streets, the houses, the mountains beyond… all had been replaced by this abyss.
A fresh scar upon the world.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
It smothered the land that had just witnessed something akin to divine judgment—or perhaps heavenly punishment. Even the wind seemed to have stopped. The sunlight felt cold.
The only sound was Albedo's ragged breathing—and the phantom pounding of a heartbeat she didn't even possess.
The faint red glow in Ainz's eyes flickered like a candle in the wind. His skeletal body remained stiff, the fingers gripping his staff cracking under the strain. His data-processing core was still flooded with red alerts and incomprehensible fear.
For a fleeting moment, he had truly felt what it meant for "existence" to be denied.
Then—
At the center of all that destruction, the golden-haired girl slowly turned around.
Her white skirt fluttered gently in a wind that didn't exist. Her radiant blonde hair spilled down like strands of light. She glanced back, her sky-blue eyes—clearer than the purest heavens—crossing the abyss and landing squarely on Ainz and Albedo.
Then she smiled.
It was a light, delicate smile. Perfect. Almost sacred.
But reflected in Ainz's hollow gaze, that smile was more terrifying than the grin of any demon lurking in the deepest levels of Nazarick. It transcended good and evil, stood above life and death—a smile belonging only to an absolute being who viewed all things as insects.
The holier it looked, the colder it felt.
"Lord Ainz…" Albedo forced the words out, her voice breaking.
As a supreme demon, she should have been fearless. But now, like prey caught in the gaze of a natural predator, her instincts screamed at her to retreat—to shield Ainz behind her. Yet her body was nailed in place by an invisible pressure. She couldn't move a single finger.
Her flawless face twisted under the weight of pure terror.
(Lord Ainz! This entity is too dangerous! Please allow me—!) Her voice rang urgently through their mental link, filled with panic and resolve.
(Silence, Albedo! Don't move! Absolutely no hostility!) Ainz cut her off instantly. His magical voice remained steady, but beneath it, his thoughts were in chaos. (Calculate losses. Assess risk. Survival is priority one. We cannot afford to provoke her. That… wasn't even her real power. It might have just been… a warning.)
Inside, Ainz was screaming.
Level 119! That was level 119! And that kind of power?! What the hell is this?! How can a player like that exist in this world?! This completely breaks YGGDRASIL's rules! Where's her guild? What does she want? Was that attack a show of force? A response to us being here? Damn it—there's not enough information! Every step feels like walking on the edge of a blade!
Just as his mind spun through possibilities—and escape plans—
Illya seemed to realize something.
Her smile faltered slightly. She blinked, tilting her head as she looked around at the empty void and the massive abyss beneath her feet. Then she lightly tapped her forehead, her expression turning into something almost… sheepish.
"Ah…" she murmured, her voice soft and almost cutesy—completely at odds with the catastrophe she had just unleashed. "I didn't mean to go that far… guess I overdid it."
With a casual flick of her hand, a softly glowing crystal appeared—its surface covered in impossibly complex runes. Without even glancing at it, she crushed it between her fingers.
Hummm—
A gentle resonance spread out, nothing like the destructive roar from before. This sound carried life. Restoration.
Time itself seemed to reverse.
Countless points of light appeared from the void, gathering like fireflies. The annihilated land began to "grow" back from the bottom of the abyss. Shattered rock reformed. Buildings reduced to dust rebuilt themselves.
In just a few breaths, the massive chasm vanished.
The streets, the houses, the distant mountains—all restored as if nothing had ever happened.
Even the lingering aura of death and destruction was gone.
As if that apocalyptic scene had been nothing more than an illusion.
…Not entirely.
The people who had been reduced to nothing—including the rude mercenaries—reappeared where they once stood. They collapsed to the ground, pale as death, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for air as though waking from the deepest nightmare.
"I… did I just die?"
"D-demon! That woman is a demon!"
"That light… that sword… what was that?! Divine punishment?!"
"Run! She's a witch! A witch who can destroy the world!"
Panic erupted across the town.
Survivors screamed, cried, scrambled over each other in desperate attempts to flee. They remembered—every moment of being erased, every instant of their destruction. That terror was now etched into their souls.
Standing in the middle of the restored street, Illya scratched her golden hair, looking mildly troubled.
"Hmm… I might've gone a bit overboard," she muttered. There was a trace of helplessness in her tone, but little real remorse—more like someone commenting on a game that didn't go as planned.
Then, as if losing interest, her gaze swept casually over Ainz and Albedo, who were still frozen in shock and vigilance. A faint, unreadable smile touched her lips again.
Whoosh—
A soft white flash.
And she was gone.
No trace. No presence.
As though she had never existed.
All that remained was a town in chaos—and…
Ainz Ooal Gown, seated once more upon his restored carriage, his mind shaken as if by a magnitude-ten earthquake, his data core still unable to stabilize.
And Albedo, standing guard at his side, her body still trembling.
The red glow in Ainz's eyes flickered slowly as he stared at the spot where Illya had vanished. His skeletal hand tightened around the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown until it creaked.
(Ainz-sama… we…) Albedo's voice trembled.
(…We return.) His reply was cold. Heavy. Urgent. (Immediately back to Nazarick. Activate maximum alert protocols. Summon all Guardians.)
(This world… now contains a variable we cannot comprehend.)
He abandoned any pretense of dignity as the Sorcerer King. Ignoring the chaos around him, Ainz activated his teleportation spell at once. In the blink of an eye, he and Albedo vanished—more like fleeing than departing.
Great Tomb of Nazarick – Throne Room
The atmosphere was heavier than ever before.
All Floor Guardians and key NPCs had been summoned at top speed. Demiurge, Sebas Tian, Cocytus, Aura Bella Fiora, Mare Bello Fiore, and Albedo—who had witnessed everything firsthand—stood in solemn rows before the throne.
Even Pandora's Actor, rarely present, had arrived, along with representatives like Narberal Gamma of the Pleiades battle maids. Victim hovered silently nearby.
Seated upon the throne, Ainz rested his hands against his cheekbones, the red glow in his eyes steady and deep. His presence radiated unprecedented gravity.
Without any preamble, he recounted everything—the golden-haired girl he tentatively named Illya, her immeasurable power, her terrifying Level 119, and that world-splitting sword of light.
"…That is what occurred."
His voice was calm, but the weight behind it tightened every chest in the room.
A brief silence followed.
Then Shalltear Bloodfallen let out a sharp, uneasy laugh.
"H-hehe… Ainz-sama, could it be… I mean… is it possible this was some kind of advanced illusion? Or perhaps Albedo made a mistake? Level 119? That's… that's impossible! YGGDRASIL's rules can't be broken!"
Her doubt wasn't disrespect—it was disbelief.
Aura and Mare exchanged uncertain glances, equally shaken.
Demiurge adjusted his glasses, the lenses gleaming. His sharp eyes flickered with calculation, though his tight lips betrayed the strain of trying to process the unthinkable.
"..."
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