Chapter 42: At the End of Distortion (3)
The world shifted violently.
The sky was swallowed by darkness—or rather, a darkness born from nothing engulfed everything around him. He tried to resist, but his resistance was devoured along with him. His hands, his feet, even his Taoist arts—all of it was useless. He flailed in the void, moving for real, yet striking nothing, grasping only emptiness.
What is this?!
It felt as though he had become nothing more than a helpless insect, plucked from the air by some unseen collector. A crushing, suffocating helplessness wrapped around him on all sides. And when the darkness finally receded, Monkyspanner found himself cast into an unfamiliar realm.
A world aflame.
Rivers and lakes of molten lava coursed across the land. Patches of black earth, choked with ash and smoke, declared this a place where no life could survive.
Looking up, there was no sky—only a cavern ceiling of rock and stalactites, studded with countless crystals scattering the glow of the magma into an eerie, burning light.
Where am I? A volcano? Transference magic? How can someone drag me here without even my consent?
It was as if he stood in the heart of a living volcano—hell itself given form. No creature could last long in such an inferno. But Monkyspanner, one who had surpassed the limits, could still move freely within it.
Even so, sweat beaded across his brow.
Since falling into this world, never once had he felt true mortal peril. At most, he had angered fellow high priests or governors in Shinshi, chased by their wrath—but that was never life-or-death.
Shinshi was family. Quarrels between family never reached the brink of death. Orochi's experiments had made him fear for his safety, but even then his life was not truly at stake.
Damn it… I knew something felt wrong…
But now his instincts screamed louder than ever before. His very being, honed to its pinnacle, trembled in alarm.
He was a level 100 existence, one who had reached the limit. His resistance to sorcery was immense—yet his enemy had cast him here with contemptuous ease.
Monkyspanner raised his hand. This was a life-or-death moment. There was no room to hold back. If this was the enemy's lair, or a trap prepared for him, he had to unleash his full strength.
"Invocation: Ruyi Jingu Bang!"
A short, rainbow-hued staff appeared in his grip. With no obvious handle, its two ends were capped with rounded iron weights.
This was Monkyspanner's cherished weapon, a relic bestowed by the god who had created him—his most treasured armament.
And he was not done. For the first time since falling into this world, he equipped the full array of treasures he had never once revealed. Each was a supreme artifact, impossible to replicate even if Shinshi poured forth all its strength.
Upon his head he donned a coronet adorned with the plumes of a sacred bird. His body was clad in the White Phoenix Armor, a gleaming suit of eastern-style plate etched with golden sigils, with a dragon-embroidered robe flowing over it.
On his hands he replaced his gauntlets with golden fist-guards and rings that gleamed with power.
On his feet he wore the Cloud-Stepping Boots, granting freedom to walk the heavens as though upon mist.
Nor was that all. His belt, his brooch, his necklace, and every ring on his fingers blazed with enchantments.
Each one was no mere trinket, but a legendary-tier magic item of immeasurable worth, treasures that would be priceless even by Yggdrasil's standards.
Arrayed in full, Monkyspanner unleashed his true form.
Shrrrrk—!
Fur bristled. His body swelled. Already towering over two meters, his frame expanded further, muscle and armor alike bulging with power.
From the gaps in his armor and helm burst tufts of golden fur, gleaming with a divine radiance.
He had cast aside his restraint. This was his true self, unbound.
The face revealed through the gaps in his helmet was unmistakably that of a simian. His eyes, once human, now blazed redder than blood, their depths encircled by a golden radiance. With that, his visage was no longer that of a man, but of a beast—a monster.
In his hand was the staff. Upon his body gleamed divine armor. Across his form bristled golden fur. And with his blazing Fiery Golden Eyes, Monkyspanner cast his gaze across the world.
This was his true nature revealed: Monkyspanner, one of Shinshi's Twelve High Priest, famed for his unmatched adaptability—the unruly Immortal Monkey Sage.
Here, he stood at full power, ten parts of ten unleashed. Even if hidden techniques and reserves remained, he was already prepared to fight with everything he had.
And yet—even at full strength, unease gnawed at him.
His enemy had not yet shown its form, but the crushing sense of danger shook him to his core.
Then, slowly, shadows began to take shape.
"So, you were a monkey immortal all along. It seems you weren't even using your full strength before. Truly… Lord Ainz's foresight is unmatched. From the start, you should have been ranked on par with a Floor Guardian."
"It was you who laid the groundwork, Demiurge. Thanks to you, this stage is set. Now—let us enjoy it to the fullest."
"Hohoho… how exciting this shall be."
"Con-cur."
"U-uh… will this really be alright?"
"It's fine, Aura! After all, we've gathered everyone here, haven't we? Against one opponent, there's no need to worry!"
"Still, do not let your guard down. Lord Ainz himself marches with us. Do not disgrace yourselves by letting arrogance make you careless."
As the figures emerged into view, Monkyspanner felt a cold sweat soak down his back.
The masked demon he had briefly clashed with in the capital was there.
Alongside it stood a woman clad in full plate and wielding a bardiche, a dark elf girl with a staff taller than herself, her twin with shackles of black and white upon his arms, a girl in crimson full plate bearing a spear, and even an insectoid aberration wielding four weapons in as many hands.
Each radiated strength equal to—or perhaps even beyond—his own.
That one…
His eyes fixed on the girl in crimson plate.
She wasn't a demon. Her form, her weapon, her face—he remembered them clearly.
She was the very same girl shown in Cha's recordings.
So it had been a lie when they said she was defeated. Or perhaps she had fallen, only to be resurrected.
And if these truly were the forces of Ainz Ooal Gown, then the resurrection of a level 100 servant would hardly pose difficulty.
They were strong.
Terrifyingly so.
To have so many gathered at once—Monkyspanner could only think one thing: This must be them—the players' guild. Ainz Ooal Gown. One glance was enough; they were all heteromorphs. The only question was—how many had crossed into this world?
Yet as he watched, it seemed not only their servants but the guild itself had crossed intact. This was a calamity beyond calamity. A force not merely threatening to Shinshi—its power might even rival it.
Somehow, he had to bring word back.
And at the very center of them all, like a sovereign among vassals, stood a single figure. His face hidden behind an ornate mask, his body draped in regal robes, he held a bizarre golden staff.
Though he seemed to be a magic caster, the dreadful aura that radiated from him eclipsed all the others assembled.
This was no guess, but certainty—this was their master, their ruler. His subordinates, whether knowingly or not, deferred to him with every motion.
And more than that—this one, without question, was a Player. A god-like existence. Monkyspanner gripped his Ruyi Jingu Bang tight, his body tense to breaking.
But Ainz, watching him, was in high spirits.
How delightful when everything falls into place according to plan.
Once again, Demiurge had proven himself flawless—the brain of Nazarick, crafting perfect schemes.
Seven benefits in all, capped with an unexpected final gift.
Though startled at first, Ainz now saw how every one of them brought profit to Nazarick. His mood had lightened.
And now only one task remained—Monkyspanner's capture.
I won't kill him. He's far too valuable.
Ainz had considered it, but Demiurge insisted on subjugation instead. At first, he had wondered—how could one possibly capture a level 100 NPC?
But then came the answer: world-class power, and the will of Ainz himself.
Yes… with the "Scroll of Mountains and Rivers," Aura can capture him without fail.
That artifact—one of Ainz Ooal Gown's eleven World Items—took the form of an immense scroll. Its true ability was terrifying: to forcibly summon its target into a chosen domain.
The Scroll of Mountains and Rivers could create an artificial field within its effective range, forcibly dragging its chosen target—be it living or inanimate—into the painted world contained within.
There were a hundred different fields it could manifest, and the wielder could freely select one. An enemy with strong affinity for water could be cast into a realm of molten magma, while one with a mastery of flame could be hurled into a polar wasteland or the crushing depths of the sea. If one wished, it could even produce nothing more than an empty, endless plain.
Normally, conquering the scroll required fulfilling one of forty randomly chosen conditions—none of which were ever simple. Should those conditions be met, ownership of the item would transfer to the opponent. But Ainz had no concerns over that.
"If we enter with multiple Guardians at once, we need only ensure the enemy never fulfills the condition."
By simplifying the field's parameters and omitting penalties, the conditions could be locked to something the opponent could never realistically achieve. Thus, the scroll became not a treasure to be conquered, but a weapon for ambush.
Back in Yggdrasil, when this artifact had been stolen, they had seized it only by overwhelming the wielder with a host of guildmates clad in world-class equipment and narrowly seizing victory through sheer coordination. But against an opponent without such equipment? Resistance was futile.
This made it perfect for assassination play: isolate a target, drag them into the scroll's field, and unleash overwhelming numbers until they were erased.
That was exactly the stratagem used here. Ainz had ordered Aura to set the scroll's effect to target Monkyspanner alone, then allowed himself and his allies entry as the caster's companions, stripping away penalties and simplifying the field's parameters.
With that, the combination of inescapable capture and violence of numbers was complete. Unless the victim bore a World Item of their own, there would be no escape.
"No matter what he is—whether a level 100 NPC or even a Player—it doesn't matter. I am a full-gear veteran ranked among the server's strongest, and behind me stand NPCs of equal level, armed with world-class treasures. Even if he bore a World Item, it would change nothing. Perhaps only something like Touch Me's absurd strength could break through, but NPCs cannot wield World Classes. He has fine equipment, yes—but so do we."
If the enemy had somehow resisted the scroll's pull, then they would have shifted to Plan B: an all-out encirclement by seven of Nazarick's most elite, with teleportation sealed by Demiurge's wards and the capital itself blanketed by anti-transfer barriers.
At that point, even a level 100 would have no chance. Not against this.
And with the scroll's capture confirmed, the conclusion was already decided. Even if he was a Player, there was always the 10th-tier spell Dominate, capable of enslaving the will of even the proudest NPC or man. In the right state of weakness, even a Player could be broken and forced into obedience.
For Ainz, the situation was victory absolute. And so, with a rare trace of confidence, he raised his bony hand, pointed at the tense Monkyspanner, and spoke in a voice that echoed across the field:
"Now then—before the hunt begins, I would like a word with you… would that be acceptable?"
*******************
*******************
If you want to read 10 advance chapters ahead.
Visit my patreon: patreon.com/Vanity01