Watching Herohero log off, Luke thought to himself that who knows when the next meeting would be.
At least in the original work, there was a very long time before any other players were mentioned. Though there were traces left behind by other players, it was obvious they had crossed over much earlier.
This meant that even if it was a group transfer, everyone's timeline would not necessarily align.
So Luke never brought up to the other guildmates the suggestion of staying together until shutdown. After all, transmigration was ultimately unknown, and no one could force others to do anything.
"They've all logged off, huh, Momonga."
"Ah, yes, once again it's just the two of us, Luke-san." Momonga turned his head toward Luke, sighing a little.
"To think, in the end, only you stayed with me. I remember at the beginning, I even objected to you joining the guild… truly, I owe you an apology, Luke-san."
"You don't have to be so polite, Momonga. To even bring up the past, haha—you're just too easily embarrassed."
"Honestly, earlier, you wanted them to stay until the very end with us, right, Momonga? You're really gentle, you know. Even though you wished it, you couldn't bring yourself to say it because you were worried about their condition, huh?"
"That's right… somehow, I feel lonely that in the end, it's only you and me staying until the last."
Momonga sighed. From Herohero's short words and voice, he understood very well how exhausted he was. But even so, he still responded to Momonga's email and logged in on YGGDRASIL's final day.
For that alone, Momonga felt he should be deeply grateful. To ask him to stay longer would not only be shameless, it would be troubling him.
Momonga's gaze lingered on the spot where Herohero had just sat, then shifted to the thirty-nine empty seats once occupied by the other guild members, before finally landing on Luke, sitting so casually in his seat.
"All that talk of 'see you again' are just polite words, aren't they?" Luke rested both hands behind his head.
"Everyone says, 'I'll log in if I have time, let's meet again when we can,' but in the end, it's just us left here, isn't it, Momonga?"
"'Hope we can meet again somewhere'…" Hearing Luke's words, Momonga finally broke.
His shoulders trembled violently, and the true feelings he had long suppressed burst forth, "What kind of joke is this!"
"This place is Nazarick, created by everyone together. It's the fruit of everyone's hard work. It's the place everyone poured their heart and soul into! How can they just abandon it so easily?!"
Looking at the collapsing guild master, Luke didn't speak. He knew well who had always given the most for every event, who had always worked to maintain fairness in the guild.
More than that, he knew this person never truly blamed his companions. The one who loved everyone the most would always be him.
Just as expected, after venting, Momonga quickly found excuses for those who left.
"…No, it must not be that. They didn't abandon it lightly. It's simply the choice between reality and virtual worlds. It was unavoidable. No one betrayed the guild. Everyone just faced painful choices…"
"You're right, Momonga. Everyone has their own life, don't they?" Luke consoled.
As someone who had once played World of Warcraft, he understood this helplessness too well. When companions left one after another due to marriage and children, when they no longer even had time to log in because of family, he felt that deep helplessness.
From 40-man raids, to 25-man raids, to the point where even 10-man raids weren't possible.
By WoW's tenth anniversary, the friends who had fought together until 2 a.m. were all gone. There wasn't even enough people for a five-man dungeon.
No one posted loot in guild chat anymore. No one joked about eating instant noodles without seasoning packets.
Perhaps this was the ultimate fate of every game. The game itself didn't change, maybe it was only us who changed, wasn't it?
"Ah, Luke-san… sorry, for letting you see me lose control like that…"
"Don't say it like it's the first time, Momonga. Haven't you lost it in front of me before? I'm already used to your sudden silly antics."
"Hahaha, true enough." Momonga let out a laugh. Only in front of this person could he completely put down the burden of guild master, like a friend to banter with.
"Really, thank you, Luke-san. After all these years… only you've been here with me. Accompanying me, staying in the Nazarick we built together. Because of you, I'm not so lonely."
"I'm just keeping my promise. Didn't I say it back then? That I would never AFK before you, that I'd never leave Nazarick? That's why you agreed to let me rename Nazarick into Naxxramas in the first place…" Luke waved his hand.
After speaking, Luke stood up. He walked toward the wall, where a staff was mounted as decoration.
That staff was the guild weapon—the symbol of their guild. If the guild weapon was destroyed, the guild would disband. So even though it was a top-tier weapon, it had always been kept in the safest place.
Seeing Luke approach the staff, Momonga's eyes flickered. He remembered the days when they crafted the guild weapon, everyone working together day after day on adventures.
At that time, members split into teams to compete in gathering materials. They debated endlessly over what the weapon should look like, then slowly integrated everyone's opinions to craft it piece by piece.
Some people dragged their exhausted bodies online after hard work. Some played so much they neglected their families and argued with them. Some even took leave from work just to help.
That was when the guild was at its strongest. That was when the guild was at its most glorious.
Sometimes, they'd spend the whole day just chatting. Sometimes, they'd prepare for new adventures. Sometimes, they'd go treasure hunting together.
Sometimes, they'd launch raids on rival guilds. And sometimes, they suffered attacks from world-class enemies, almost leading to the guild's destruction…
But now, only Luke remained.
Of the forty-two, thirty-seven had left the guild. Aside from himself and Luke, the three who remained as guild members hadn't shown up in so long that Momonga couldn't even recall the last time they logged in.
As Momonga was lost in memories, he noticed Luke had picked up the guild weapon—the symbol of their guild.
"Luke-san! What are you doing?!"
Though Momonga's expression was unseen, his tone alone conveyed his shock. Luke simply smiled, saying nothing, and walked up to the stunned Momonga.
"This staff was meant for you to use. It's only because of the guild's safety that it was kept here all this time. But now that the servers are shutting down, a weapon never once used must feel just as lonely as us."
"So why not take it? Hold onto this thing filled with all our memories…"
"..."
Wordlessly, Momonga gazed at the guild weapon—Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown—the staff sharing the same name as the guild itself.
"You're right. Letting the fruit of everyone's effort remain lonely isn't good. Then let me first equip myself with gear worthy of it."
In YGGDRASIL, weapons were divided into tiers: lower, mid, high, top, legacy-class, holy relic-class, legendary-class, and so on. Momonga chose to equip himself with the highest tier.
After donning a full set of equipment, Momonga felt he was finally worthy of the guild's collective effort. He reached out to take the staff and said, "You may be tired of hearing it, but truly, thank you, Luke-san."