Demiurge studied the ring with meticulous care.
The amethyst gem in the demon's vertical pupils now outshone every treasure in his eyes.
After all, this was the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown, the pinnacle of glory.
Who but a Supreme Being had the right to wear it?
"Lord Momonga, Lord Helant."
Albedo descended gracefully in the moonlight, her black wings folding neatly as a few loose plumes drifted from her waist like dark snowflakes. She glided straight to Helant's side, leaning in close with curious golden eyes.
"Lord Helant, are you—"
Her words cut off abruptly as her gaze landed on the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown still resting in Momonga's skeletal hand.
Mare turned toward Helant, his heterochromatic blue and green eyes clouded with hesitant uncertainty, fingers fidgeting around the precious ring.
Helant smiled warmly and nodded. "Take it, Mare. It's Momonga's recognition of your excellent work."
"Mm!" Mare's face lit up with pure delight. He accepted the ring solemnly, slipping it onto his small finger as though it were the greatest treasure in the world.
Recognition of work?
Demiurge's sharp mind whirled. He glanced between Helant and Momonga in thrilled surprise. So simply completing a task for a Supreme Being could earn one this ultimate emblem of trust and glory.
Albedo's wings fluttered with barely contained excitement, her voice turning honey-sweet and almost coquettish. "Then, Lord Helant… may I also…"
Her gaze fixed dreamily on the ring gleaming on Mare's finger. In her mind, the scene shifted—if that very ring were sliding onto her left ring finger, placed there gently by Lord Helant's own hand. Her golden eyes softened, brows curving tenderly, a faint blush blooming across her flawless cheeks.
Damn it, she's adorable.
What man could withstand this kind of attack?
"All right," Helant relented with an amused sigh. He produced another Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown from his inventory. "As Guardian Overseer, this will make coordination easier. But at its core, it's recognition of your tireless efforts. Don't slack off just because you have it now."
Albedo pressed her crimson lips together to suppress a delighted squeal, then answered with solemn devotion. "This servant will redouble her efforts for you, my lord!"
She paused, voice dropping to a playful murmur. "Still… if it were a ring with other meanings, I'd be even more motivated."
She didn't spell it out, but everyone present understood perfectly. The air practically shimmered with her unspoken proposal.
"Lord Helant." Albedo stepped closer and hugged his arm tightly, pressing herself against him.
Helant's arm vanished instantly into overwhelming softness. Warm, yielding pressure rippled across his skin, and beneath it he could feel Albedo's heart pounding like a war drum.
Helant San, whatever happened to your initial fluster?
Momonga's mood soured as he watched. He'd secretly hoped to see his old friend turn bright red and stammer. Instead, he now felt utterly superfluous—like a third wheel glowing in the dark.
He glanced back at Demiurge, who had remained silent and stiff throughout the exchange.
At least I'm not the only spare part here.
"Demiurge," Momonga said awkwardly, "your ring… next time, okay?"
Demiurge's entire body tensed, the last flicker of hope guttering out. If only he could receive it now, like Mare and Albedo…
Helant shook his head inwardly. Momonga, couldn't you spare the child's feelings? Pointing it out when he's the only one without one…
He gently extracted his arm from Albedo's embrace and walked over to the crestfallen demon.
"Here." Helant pulled a photograph from his inventory—a cherished snapshot of himself and Ulbert Alain Odle, both grinning wide, flashing V-signs in front of a defeated dragon world boss.
"Th-this is…!"
It's Lord Ulbert!
Demiurge accepted the photo with trembling gloved hands, eyes glistening as tears threatened to spill.
"Thank you, Lord Helant!" His voice cracked with emotion.
He traced the image reverently—Ulbert's dramatic pose, Helant's easy smile, the colossal dragon corpse behind them. Warmth flooded Demiurge's chest; joy bubbled up uncontrollably, and his long tail began wagging despite his best efforts to remain composed.
"Right," Helant said lightly, "I'm off to the Heart of the Sanctuary. Farewell for now."
With a soft flash of light, he vanished via teleportation.
Momonga stared at Demiurge's radiant expression, stunned. Damn, why didn't I think to comfort him like that?
Honestly, Helant San really should have been guildmaster.
Albedo offered Momonga a graceful curtsy before taking Mare's hand and teleporting away. The night was still long—she had a very special surprise to prepare for her beloved.
Heart of the Sanctuary
A brilliant white sun hung eternally above a boundless sea of fluffy clouds.
Atop that heavenly expanse stood an immense, radiant palace, its spires and walls glowing with pure holy light.
Countless horned, exquisitely beautiful Sanctuary Demons flitted busily about, their white wings beating in disciplined rhythm. Most carried heavy loads of raw materials while shouted orders echoed through the open sky.
"Alchemy team, ten thousand health potions by end of shift!"
"Materials team, speed it up! The alchemists are waiting!"
At the urgent commands, the demons flew faster than startled flies, diving frantically into the massive open-air factory complex.
Above the main gate swung a large sign: Materials Production Plant.
Inside, spontaneous assembly lines had formed—demons casting refinement spells in perfect sync, turning raw ores, herbs, and ingots into top-grade crafting materials. Finished batches were immediately ferried to the adjoining Alchemy Plant next door.
Helant materialized between the two plants with a quiet flash of Instantaneous Transfer.
The moment he arrived, his powerful senses zeroed in on one particularly energetic demon overseeing the chaos.
"You useless maggots, move faster! You labor for the Supreme Being Himself—consider it the highest honor!"
A petite loli with a high ponytail and punk-style black vest stalked past the workstations, cracking a leather whip for emphasis. Metal studs glinted on her outfit, and a single tiny fang peeked from her smirking lips.
"Maggots! Lord Helant gave our lives meaning! State your purpose loud and clear!"
"To offer the finest alchemical products to the Supreme Being!" the demons chorused back, hands blurring even faster.
The loli clasped her hands behind her back and nodded in smug approval.
"Huh? I can't move…"
As she turned to continue her rounds, an overwhelming will seized her body, freezing her in place.
"[Dominate Minion]. Mino, come here."
Her vision blurred—then cleared to reveal a tall, silver-haired figure smiling down at her.
Lord Helant himself.
Mino let out an awkward laugh and hastily hid the whip behind her back.
"My lord, couldn't you give a girl some warning before using that skill…" Her tone mixed playful reproach with timid affection.
Helant's mouth twitched as he reached down and lifted her effortlessly by the collar.
"Why did you turn this entire place into a sweatshop factory?"
The last time he'd visited, only about a third of the Sanctuary Demons had been assigned to production. Now every single one—nearly a hundred thousand—was crammed inside, toiling without pause.
Mino bit her lip, golden eyes brimming with sudden tears. "I only wanted to give you a better life… more resources, more potions, everything you could ever need…"
"Ouch!"
Helant flicked her forehead without mercy.
"That's enough. I've read your profile, you know—black-hearted boss cosplay addict."
He exposed the fake loli mercilessly.
Mino had been the very first follower he summoned after binding the Heart of the Sanctuary. Sanctuary-generated followers were powerful but random in personality; she'd rolled level 100 with perfect holy-light mage specialization—far above the rest.
Her only "flaw" was her… unique settings: a century-old fake loli obsessed with playing the role of a tyrannical sweatshop overseer, cracking whips, and spreading gossip.
In short, a troublemaker who could sit right beside Shalltear at the chaotic loli's table.
As the only other level-100 Sanctuary Demon, she'd naturally risen to second-in-command.
Helant tapped her head lightly. "Eight-hour shifts from now on. Weekends off. No arguments."
Mino puffed out her cheeks in protest. "…Fine."
Suddenly, the eternal daylight dimmed. A colossal shadow swept overhead as a titanic dragon eclipsed the white sun, circling with earth-shaking wingbeats.
Its predatory gaze locked onto Helant before it folded its wings and dove, the resulting gale churning the sea of clouds into a storm.
Mino's face went pale. She darted behind Helant, clutching his cloak. "My lord, I'll protect you!"
Helant sighed, lifted her again, and gently set her in front of him.
"How exactly are you planning to protect me from behind me? Come on, go say hello."