Inside one of the suites within the main castle of E-Rantel.
Momonga sat at the edge of his large bed. His face scrunched in deep thought. His hands clasped in front of his lips, with his foot tapping against the carpet.
It hadn't been hours since the Princess' resurrection, and while things had been quiet, the same couldn't be said regarding his mind.
'I admit... I had barely planned for the New World. But this...'
Momonga's mind wandered to the days of Yggdrasil and his struggle against the other Transmigrants. Each of them vying relentlessly for personal strength, magic, and power.
His dedication was fueled and driven by the same maniacal desire for freedom as the others.
Others wanted it for gold. For wealth. There was even one who just wanted to eat real food. Then there were those who did it for lust.
Though he never expected things to end the way they did, he didn't regret it either. He may have been Suzuki Satoru. But his ending was far from inconclusive.
'Now it's come to bite me in the ass...'
Momonga ran his hand through his hair, rubbing his temple due to the rising headache.
With a grunt of frustration, he reached into his inventory and pulled out his Overlord Mask, and put it on.
In a soft burst of darkness, he shifted into his Undead Form.
His mind cleared along with flesh and bone. His frustrations and fears were swallowed by the darkness like his eyeless sockets. And as his mind sharpened, so too did red dots blaze like his pupils.
With barely a hitch, he thought to address the unshackled freedom he had granted Albedo. But the thought of the beautiful succubus had him reeling at the very thing in her possession.
Avalon and Excalibur.
Not just one World Item, but a pair. One of a kind.
Items that could raise a Paladin of the Highest Order to the heights of a World Champion.
It was an insane item on its own. A Sword of unimaginable offense and a Scabbard of pseudo immortality.
It was once wielded by the Guild Leader of Seraphim, Gabriel. The man who dominated the game with a broken build, possessing an Angelic Race boosted to insane proportions that even other World Champions like himself and Touch Me struggled to defeat.
The whole Paladin, Cleric, and Priestly Class Skills, along with every spell with correlation to the Holy Element, became accessible just by merely possessing the two.
That wasn't including the fact that the sword fell under the same categories as a Staff, a Spear, a Sword, a Club, an Axe, and even a Dagger.
And the Scabbard could be used as a necklace, a ring, and an earring, or any form of accessory.
Every player could wield it. Leading to it passing hands with little to no problem.
'It took three months of relentless conflicts since the discovery of the Item before the Devs caved, and nerfed the damn thing. But then again, the game received quite a popularity back then when we were killing each other for it.... until frustration kicked in and players started leaving en-mass.'
He remembered how angry Tabula was with the item, especially when Ginungagap fell into their hands. And its comparison to Excalibur made the World Item redundant and frankly, lesser in every aspect. Specially since the shape-shifting weapon was barely on the same level as a Divine Item.
So when the so-called fix was released, everyone—from Angels to Demons—groaned in exasperation.
The so-called 'fix' made it so that no one of Positive Karma could ever hope to wield it. Effectively making it an item exclusive only to Neutral and Evil aligned players.
'Shitty Devs...' Momonga mentally sighed out, before his emotion was whiffed away.
'Once again, they lived up to their name.'
His thoughts were more of fondness and unspoken thanks. Partly due to that patch that drowned the competition until they vanished in less than a month.
But now... now things were different.
He felt it like a familiar warmth. The moment Lakyus chanted those lines... The moment the Princess let out a gasp of life. The World Item reacts and something gazed at him.
Momonga felt the eyes of a being far more powerful than him peering at his soul.
Whatever that was had found him curious enough that even hours later, he could still feel the lingering caress on his skin.
Momonga gently ran his hand against his bony cheek and shivered. So strongly that even his emotional suppressor felt like it was working overtime.
He looked at his hand and closed it. That shiver came again, like a soft whisper telling him to let go. He could even feel his hand lose strength.
With a powerful wave of emotional suppression, Momonga's eyes snapped wide, and with gritted teeth, he forced strength into his hand.
He sat there, struggling as his arm shook. As if fighting the dark whispers of laziness while he forced himself into action. Slowly, his fist closed, but before he could rejoice, he felt the foreign gentleness softly pry his fingers open.
With a grunt of defiance, he struggled until—
*knock- *knock- *knock-
His attention snapped to the door and then to his hand and found himself...
"...alone?"
The wind from the open windows blew as if to answer his question. But Momonga knew what he had felt.
His frayed nerves were his proof while they slowly repaired themselves. Held in one piece due to his current Undead Nature.
He didn't need to hear it, but he knew. This was far from over.
He let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging with it. And with his self collected, he opened the door and—
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH —!!!!"
Momonga looked in confusion at the back of the running messenger, and froze when he shouted—
"Undead! Undead in the castle!"
" • • • maybe I should have accepted that rest."
—.—.—.—.—
"An impressive magical artifact..."
Ramposa whispered, inspecting the bone-white mask Momonga had handed him.
His foot hadn't lost stride as they walked side by side, with his Warrior Chief and Albedo just a couple of steps behind them.
Ramposa smiled softly, remembering the commotion it had made. He was simply glad that Momonga had been wise enough to be up front about it.
"...even Heroes are humans it seems."
His comment earned him both a glare from Albedo and a small laugh from Momonga. The latter of which set his heart at ease.
"But I must ask," continued Ramposa. "for what purpose do you keep such a... Uhmm... Dangerous, artifact?"
"Peace of mind your Majesty." Ramposa sent him a questioning look, prompting Momonga to continue. "It wipes the fear, doubt, even attachments. Sorrow, triumph along with hate and love. It may sound dark, but when cold hard logic is needed, it would have more than served its purpose."
Ramposa nodded in addition. "That certainly would have been helpful."
He remembered doubt all too well. The uncertainty and difficulty of sending armies forward to their deaths. Just so a chance at victory might be had or at worst, lives be saved in retreat. But still...
Ramposa's mind wandered to the field of battle. The corpses strewn about, the dried blood on the open fields, and bodies torn apart beneath hooves and steel. And all his noblemen could shout was 'Hold the line!'
'And they stood...' Ramposa lamented.
Courage, valor, or surrender. Questions he wanted answered but would never know. Not when they were too dead to answer.
"As enticing as such a power may be, it is far too dangerous, and I can't help but believe it to be wrong." Ramposa turned to Momonga with a question. "Would it not be a disservice to move forward with no regard to the efforts spilled to reach it?" he asked mournfully.
It hadn't even been two years, but he could still remember the men who died to slow down the Emperor's Four Imperial Knights. Just so Gazef might arrive in time to save him.
'No!' Ramposa mentally shouted. 'I will not forget that sacri–'
"It would indeed be a disservice your Majesty." Momonga admitted, cutting off his train of thought. "But so is failure to those expecting your success. In the end, choices must be made. Whether it's a man, or a king. All ask themselves, if what we do next is worth what we have now."
"I am a King. The man... the man would fail this Kingdom."
"Then this–" Momonga gestured to the masks, "-would suit you well."
The listening warriors, even Gazef, frowned at his words, with Albedo barely holding back her smug smile. But Momonga clarified, mainly due to the offended look on Ramposa.
"A man thinks of lesser things. The food on the table, the roof over their heads, coin for their future and most of all is his family. Those he considers his loved ones. While a King is father to all children, provider to all homes, and guardian to all lives."
Ramposa looked confused at the obvious words coming from his mouth, so Momonga answered.
"That mask will be the bane of the former, and boon of the latter. After all, how many families would have fed those jewels you paid to resurrect your daughter?"
The King's eyes widened while his heart clenched at the mere thought.
"What this mask represents, is a choice." added Momonga. "Whether for the greater good, or for yourself. Choices, is what it would show. Choices you will make, that in turn define you."
"...what if I just wanted to be a better King? Is that really so hard?" Ramposa asked, confusion spilling from every word.
But Momonga's answer was not what he expected.
"History does not speak of sweat and blood. Not the effort, not the path, but the outcome. You don't fear those your majesty. You fear walking them."
Ramposa stopped, eyes closed fiercely as if debating whether he should listen. And despite his reluctance, he looked to face Momonga, silently urging him for his answer.
And while Momonga hesitated, feeling the pressure of inadequacy of advising a King, he instead decided to be honest.
"You already have your answer." Momonga said, his mind churning the King who offered his head in an attempt to save his Kingdom.
Cowardice, courage, or surrender. Momonga didn't know, that wasn't yet the King that lives.
"So long as you know that every step you take is of your own doing. Whether for the greater good or the few, the full truth or a partial lie, family or Kingdom, there should be no excuses. If a man can own up to his mistake, then a King is expected to be more. Is that not a better King?"
Ramposa nodded with a small smile. It wasn't a perfect answer... but it was, as he said, his. And he could respect that.
Ramposa's laugh was small until it turned into a full-blown one. "Is that your standing in life young man?" Ramposa asked with a smile.
"Hahaha! It is your majesty. Makes it easier to sleep, knowing I was honest with myself, both for the good and the bad."
Ramposa's smile was soft, but most of all, it was relaxed. And as they continued their walk, the old King remained silently thankful. That the person may be beyond any mortal he had ever known, yet his heart, it seemed, remained human.