The Great Tomb of Nazarick, Tenth Floor, Throne Room.
"Monsters… scheming…"
Nigun Grid Luín stood rooted in place, staring at Helant in naked horror.
The once-holy, handsome face—flawless skin, silver hair, gentle blue eyes—now looked like the mask of a devil. The divine light that had shielded him moments ago felt like mockery.
Do I... can I escape...
Nigun stiffly turned his head, taking in the rest of the hall.
Momonga sat enthroned, crimson pinpoints glowing in empty sockets.
Beside him stood Cocytus, ice-blue carapace radiating killing frost; Herox, three meters of obsidian-scaled draconic menace; Demiurge, fox-like features curved in delighted anticipation; Shalltear, Aura, Mare, and Albedo arrayed like living weapons.
Every single one radiated power like demon gods descended.
Huff.. hufff....
Do we even have a chance....
Nigun began to tremble uncontrollably. His heart pounded so violently he thought it might burst.
Had these demon-level monsters gathered from the very beginning to plot against the Slane Theocracy?
"Foolish humans can never fathom the thoughts of a Supreme Being."
Demiurge's tail wagged slowly behind him, a rare sign of genuine delight. He gazed at Helant with fervent reverence, the pieces of the grand design finally snapping into place in his brilliant mind.
The other Guardians—Herox, Shalltear, Aura, Mare, Albedo—looked at Helant and Momonga with the same fanaticism, eyes shining with worship.
Under those fervent stares, Momonga felt noticeably less at ease than Helant. He shifted slightly on the throne.
"Demiurge," he said, voice calm but edged with cold intent, "make him tell us everything he knows about the Slane Theocracy and any useful intelligence about this world."
Momonga's gaze settled on Nigun. Murder flickered in his thoughts.
He had not forgotten that this man had insulted Ainz Ooal Gown.
Insulted my guild.
"Yes, my lord."
Demiurge bowed deeply, then turned to Nigun. A strange psychic ripple laced his next words—clearly the activation of [Dominate].
"Nigun, recount everything about the Theocracy."
As the spell took hold, Nigun's eyes glazed over. He dropped to his knees and began mechanically divulging every detail he knew.
Helant and Momonga listened in silence, mentally sorting the flood of information.
"Six centuries ago, six gods had descended upon this world and founded the Slane Theocracy. With their overwhelming power and world-class items, they carved out a sanctuary for humanity in an age when dragons and other monstrous races ruled supreme.
After the Six Great Gods perished, eight new Players—the Eight Greed Kings—arrived wielding their own world-class items. They nearly eradicated dragonkind in a cataclysmic war. But internal strife among the Greed Kings allowed the surviving dragons to turn the tables.
Since then, dragonkind had nursed a deep hatred for Players and gradually faded into legend and seclusion.
Three centuries of relative peace followed.
Then demon gods suddenly descended, ravaging the land.
Thirteen heroes rose to defeat them...."
While Nigun rambled on in his compelled monotone, Momonga sent a private message to Helant.
"Helant-san, he knows about Players and world-class items."
"I know," Helant replied instantly. "Let him finish. Then we decide."
Helant and the Guardians continued listening patiently.
Nigun's grasp of broader world history was shaky and biased. His knowledge of other nations—Re-Estize Kingdom, Baharuth Empire, Argland Council State—was vague and propagandized. But he knew a great deal about his own homeland.
"...The Theocracy maintained six elite Scripture orders:
Sunlight Scripture (divine casters and summoners)
Water Illumination Codex (intelligence and reconnaissance)
Windflower Scripture (assassination and covert operations)
Flameshroud Scripture (close-combat specialists)
Black Scripture (the ultimate trump card)..."
"I belong to the Sunlight Scripture… I took every elite this time… and the Sorcerer King wiped us out." Nigun's voice cracked, no longer fully robotic as the spell loosened slightly.
But Momonga and the Guardians cared most about one name.
"The Black Scripture is the Theocracy's trump card," Nigun continued, lips cracked and flecked with foam. "Every member is Hero-class or higher, armed with relics left behind by the Six Great Gods. They… they can even kill god-kin…"
He knew little more and finally fell silent, awaiting the next command.
When Nigun finished, Momonga sent another private message.
"Far-sighted as ever, Helant-san. Still, this world is dangerous. Dragons that can match Players, world-class items still in circulation, and a Theocracy whose full strength we cannot yet gauge."
What Momonga truly wanted to ask—whether other Players had come here, whether any of Nazarick's old friends might have been transported as well—he held back for now.
He glanced at the fanatical Guardians and decided to discuss it privately with Helant later.
"Lord Helant, did you foresee this from the very start and stage that play with Lord Momonga?" Shalltear clasped her hands together, eyes shining with worshipful adoration.
"Of course!" Aura crossed her small arms, brimming with excitement. "Even Lady Buku praised Father's brilliance!"
The other Guardians nodded vigorously, gazing at Helant in open adoration.
Full marks for emotional support, Helant chuckled with a wry smile, basking in it for a moment. "All right. Momonga and I have matters to discuss. We're leaving."
He nodded to Momonga and vanished in a soft flash of teleportation.
Momonga looked down at the still-kneeling, dazed Nigun and spoke coldly.
"For insulting Nazarick and Ainz Ooal Gown, throw him into the Count of Terror's chamber. Keep him alive until I say otherwise."
Then he, too, teleported away.
"We bid farewell to the two Supreme Beings!"
The Guardians' gazes shifted instantly from reverence to cold loathing as they turned toward Nigun.
"Now then," Demiurge rose smoothly and faced the assembled Floor Guardians, "what do you all think of the first step in our lords' grand design?"
Shalltear tilted her head, silver hair swaying. "First step? What exactly do the Supreme Beings intend?"
"Shalltear…" Albedo sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Demiurge, explain their great objective to her—and to everyone."
Demiurge adjusted his round glasses, voice trembling with barely contained ecstasy.
"They said this world is a jewel box… and seizing it might be amusing."
He lifted his gaze to the throne where Momonga had sat moments before.
"Lord Helant's first move perfectly embodies the Supreme Beings' will."
His face flushed with fanatical excitement.
"World conquest!"
From the very beginning, they had established a two-pole strategy. No enemy would ever guess that Lord Momonga and Lord Helant stood on the same side.
Anyone who targeted one would inevitably be drawn toward the other.
Just like that arrogant priest from the Slane Theocracy.
"I see!" Shalltear's eyes lit up in sudden understanding.
Every NPC grasped it in an instant.
"We shall offer the whole world to the Supreme Beings!"
Besides admiration for Helant, Herox recalled Nigun's earlier intelligence.
"Dragons that can rival Players probably hold world-class items," he rumbled. "Father said they will be our final enemies."
Albedo maintained her lovely, serene smile, but her mind raced.
Players had come before. Might past Supreme Beings return?
She and Momonga shared the same unspoken question—yet her fear ran deeper.
But.. they abandoned us.. There is only one world now.. and Nazarick already has two Supreme Beings.
No more.
A ruthless plan took quiet root in her heart.
(Novel readers know about Albedo's full personality. Anime-only guys, she was thinking this when you see her trampling and tearing the Guild flags in her room when she hatefully mutters Ainz Ooal Gown.)
"C-Conquer the world? In your dreams!"
Nigun suddenly broke free of the lingering mental compulsion and roared, veins bulging in his neck.
"He is rude, interrupting like that," Mare muttered, gripping his staff in disgust.
Albedo's smile turned icy.
"Then this meeting is adjourned."
She glanced at Nigun with casual disdain.
"Demiurge, deliver him to the Count of Terror's room."
"With pleasure."
Veins throbbed on Demiurge's forehead. He had not forgotten Nigun's insult to the guild name—and it was Lord Momonga's direct order.
Crack!
"Ahhh!"
Bone snapped as Demiurge seized Nigun by the ankle and dragged him across the marble floor toward the exit.