The evening of the following day.
"According to Aura's reports on the surrounding area, there have been no contacts with other players from Yggdrasil. She is currently attempting to expand the surveillance zone to the great forests west of Nazarick. Additionally, our prisoner named Nigun appears to have been the commander of a special operations unit of the Slane Theocracy, the Sunlight Scripture." Albedo placed a sheet of paper before me.
"And that is all?" Today she was especially quiet and submissive, not recalling yesterday's meeting by word or gesture, and behaving so impeccably perfect that it instinctively made me suspect a trap.
"Yes, Momonga-sama." The girl bowed, smiling meekly and folding her hands modestly in front of her.
"Albedo, is this a joke?" Glancing over the contents of the paper, I found nothing new beyond what the succubus had already told me.
"What do you mean, my Lord?" The beauty blinked her yellow eyes with completely genuine confusion.
"The fact that he led one of the Six Scriptures of the Slane Theocracy is something Shalltear and I learned back in the village," I began, explaining basic truths as if to a small child. "When I ordered him to be interrogated, I was interested in everything else he might have to tell. The political landscape within the Theocracy, the composition and capabilities of the other units within the Six Scriptures, how many Yggdrasil items they possess similar to that crystal, and if there is anything more. The names of their country's rulers and what they are like as individuals—their ambitions, goals, dirty secrets, political and economic relations with other countries in the region, and everything he knows about those countries and their respective rulers. By virtue of his position alone, this Nigun should have known a sea of top-secret information closed off from the public, and in an entire day, you managed to extract only what we already knew?"
"I beg your forgiveness, Supreme One!" Albedo collapsed to one knee where she stood, lowering her head almost to the floor. "I was negligent and have committed a grave error. I am ready to accept any punishment from the Lord and will rectify the situation immediately!"
"Albedo..." A vivid scene of the first night in Carne flashed before my eyes. "How did your conversation with Shalltear end yesterday?" The girl's fingers, clutching the edge of her dress, twitched.
"Once more, I beg you to forgive your unworthy servant..." She faltered. "No, I mean to say, there can be no forgiveness for my shameful delusions, but I implore you, Momonga-sama, allow me to continue serving you. In any capacity you desire! Just do not leave us! Give me a chance to prove my loyalty to you!"
"Hmm..." Here it was, the second act of the play. "Albedo, you do not need to torment yourself so. I have no intention of abandoning you, let alone casting you out." Leaving the chair behind the desk, I approached her and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Come now, stand up." I lifted the feebly resisting Overseer. "Let us return to business—you need to distract yourself from these heavy thoughts. And wipe those beautiful eyes; I do not want to see you cry." I ran a finger along her cheek, wiping away the moisture. Fortunately, I was still wearing my soft black leather gloves; sharp bones are not exactly convenient for wiping things.
"Momonga-sama, you are so kind," the succubus's eyes only grew wetter. "I am unworthy of such words."
"Enough." I wiped the transparent rivulets away again. "Tell me, who was in charge of the interrogation? Surely Demiurge did not put someone incompetent on the task?"
"N-no." The flushed demoness tried to pull herself together and quickly wiped her tears with the backs of her hands. "The prisoners were sent for interrogation to the Frozen Prison, to the best torture specialist in Nazarick, the Special Intelligence Gathering Officer, Neuronist Painkill."
"That would be the one... the Worst Job?" As I tried to dig through Momonga's memories, the back of my skull started to itch on the inside. And the more I remembered about that chthonic horror those yellow-faced psychopaths designed for the ambiance of the decorative torture chambers, the more my bones throbbed. Oh, there's the green wind! How I've waited for you, my good friend! Do it about three more times!
"That is correct," Albedo confirmed. "Neuronist belongs to the group known as the Five Worst."
Oh god! Shove me into a dry cleaner and douse me in the most pungent chemical... How do I wash all this filth out of my memory now? Parasites, cockroaches, feminized obese illithids with the personality of a body-positivity activist—argh! Now I know what a body-positivity activist is! How am I supposed to live with this?! Why can't I even close my eyes?! Those freaks were practically competing for the right to create the most vile incarnation of the word "nauseating!" Yes, I am talking about Momonga's guildmates. How does the earth even support people with such an imagination and knowledge of the subject?!
"Lord?" Albedo tilted her head in confusion, peering into my face. I wasn't sure if she could read anything from a motionless skull; likely the pause had just gone on too long, but I was grateful to her for snapping me out of my stupor.
"Yes, let's go." Another wave of wind, almost unnoticed now, rolled through my skull. "We need to check what is happening there." We need to, and fast! Or these monsters will turn all the prisoners into vegetables just for the love of the craft without ever asking a single useful question...
Neuronist's "domain" could impress even the most hardcore BDSM enthusiasts, garden-variety sadists, and the completely unhinged. Hooks, knives, chisels, incomprehensible contraptions with clearly very bad purposes... but all of that was merely scenery. The worst lay ahead.
The mistress of the torture chamber met us in high spirits and smiled joyfully—if you could call it a smile. Her head was that of a distorted octopus with two slanted, bulging "fish eyes." Her mouth was hidden between two front tentacles, flicking out a long tongue that looked like a thin rubber tube. Her bloated and warped body resembled a human's but with the corpse-pale skin of a drowning victim, and the clothes... If before I had nothing against women in latex, now, seeing these tight leather straps barely covering the fatty flesh—evoking images of the netting used to pack certain types of sausage—I realized I would never be able to look at that sausage, or even Albedo in latex, ever again.
And all of this quivered with every movement, in rhythm with the six writhing tentacles descending from her head to her hips, so vile and repulsive that disgust managed to break through even the icy wind blowing through my skull on a continuous basis at the moment.
"Supreme... gh... Momonga... vlzp..." the thing bubbled. "It is... kha... a great honor to behold you." Albedo, who accompanied me, winced slightly. If even she was affected... well then.
"Neuronist." The wind was still blowing through my skull, so I found the strength to nod to this mangled creature. "Where is the Scripture commander who was brought to you?"
"He... is already... finished." The monster's voice sounded mournful. "His screams were so beautiful! A symphony of tearing flesh! A contralto of moans and shrieks!"
"A complete lack of information." The wind, my dear friend... Thank you! God, how I want to incinerate this filth and scum on the spot! Or should I not hold back?
"How? I... khp... provided you with all the data!" it bubbled.
"Worthless crumbs!" Albedo stepped forward, she who only ten minutes ago had considered the "report" exhaustive. "We need to know much more!"
"Mrgl... but he won't say anything else. Bring me more... and I will make them talk... khhh." The idea of incinerating this monstrosity is looking more and more intriguing. If I were sure about the other denizens of Nazarick, I would have already tested Fire Storm; for a level twenty-three creature like Neuronist, it would be more than enough.
"I need his body." I'll have to spend one charge of the Wand of Resurrection. I hope the cleric hasn't lost his mind completely and that getting answers will still be possible.
"I wanted... phk... to give him to Kyouhukou... glh... He said his children were short on food..."
"How dare you?" Albedo hissed with a sepulchral voice, becoming shrouded in a light-purple mist of released power. "Do you realize what you are saying? To utter such a thing after a direct order from Lord Momonga..." The demoness began to tremble. "Your thoughtless behavior has already drawn the Greatest One's displeasure! You have completely failed the assigned task and managed to lose a valuable prisoner whom the Lord went to capture personally! And after this, you dare to object?!"
"Of course not, I did not mean to offend the Supreme One!" The torturer recoiled, forgetting even to bubble.
"There can be no excuse for this!" The beauty continued to work herself up. "I shall finish you right now! Only that will wash away the shame you have brought upon the entire population of Nazarick in the eyes of the Greatest of all Supreme Beings!"
"Albedo, enough." The demoness's rage hit a wall. "Neuronist, do you understand the reason for the expressed displeasure?"
"I... I misspoke. Of course, the man's body must go to the Supreme One if he so desires. The corpse you need is in the freezer; I will bring it immediately!"
"Wait." Raising my voice slightly, I stopped the monstrosity as it started to scurry off. "I asked something else: do you understand the duties that rest upon the chief interrogator of Nazarick? What exactly should you be doing in this position, in your opinion?"
"Responsibility... mrgl... for the torture and punishment of prisoners who dared... prh... to defile the holy place where such an exalted being as You lives. To cause them pain, suffering, and... hrr... extract information from their sweet screams." The bloated body of "this" began to sway again, suggesting that "it" was literally becoming aroused by its own words. "When they shriek and cry, feeling... glh... how I eat their brains through their ear canals, they are ready to tell everything. To reveal their most sacred secrets without a thought of lying. That moment... pff... is the sweetest. Their brains, trembling in the anticipation of death, are unforgettably delicious, and their screams of pain are a magnificent song dedicated to Lord Momonga, sounding in honor of the glory of Nazarick!"
"So as soon as they are ready to tell everything, you devour their brains?" I clarified, holding back from drastic action with the last of my strength.
"N... Not quite... mgl... I listen to their screams and collect information, and when those screams no longer contain anything useful, then I proceed to the meal, praising the greatness of the Supreme Beings."
"I see... Fire Storm!" A wave of fire engulfed the warped figure. A few seconds of thin shrieking and the sound of sizzling fat. And then a scorch mark after the killing heat vanished. That was all that remained of Nazarick's chief executioner. Excellent, now I need to set the right parameters to reinforce loyalty. The wind... thank you. "Albedo..."
"Yes, Momonga-sama?" Albedo looked at the roasting of her—however distant—"housemate" with a look of bewilderment that slowly shifted into grim triumph.
"This is not your fault, or anyone else's... among the denizens of Nazarick. She was created this way solely through our error. I am sorry..."
"No! You must not say such things!" The girl leaned closer, her wings quivering. "Neuronist deserved her punishment! She was perverse and insolent! She failed you and could not understand her mistake even after you graciously explained everything to her. You gave her a chance, Momonga-sama! Do not regret this! The purpose of us all is to serve you and die for you! If someone proves unworthy, I implore you, destroy them without any mercy, just do not regret it and do not blame yourself! And even... even if you deem me unworthy, just say the word—I will kill myself immediately! Only I beg you..." The demoness's legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching her hands before her in a prayerful gesture and looking at me with eyes glistening once more from rising tears. "I beg of you, Momonga-sama, do not speak as if you intend to leave us... I implore you... I beg you... Only you alone stayed with us. Our benevolent Lord Momonga. Please, stay with us and rule over us. I beg of you! Please... please..."
"Well then," I thought, silently lowering myself to the girl and pulling her into an embrace, like a small child in need of comfort, "distracting ourselves with work clearly didn't happen. Act three, was it?"
What was the matter with these NPCs? One was a child through and through, crying for half the night—though at least her build and height were appropriate—while the other fell to her knees at every turn, with so much heartache in her eyes it made me want to hang myself from shame. And you couldn't even blame the settings. Shalltear was created as a bundle of adolescent fetishes, and Albedo was originally made as a bright and pure angel before being tweaked with demonism and all the associated obsessive tendencies. Yet nowhere in them was it specifically written that they should be driven to madness by the thought that they had somehow disappointed the guild master.
How was any of this to be understood? What were they? Living, sentient beings with will and desires? Then where did all these game constraints and tropes come from, where without a massive kick directly to the brain they aren't even capable of realizing the most obvious things? Take Neuronist—there was no torture in Yggdrasil, just as there was no 18+ content of any kind. She was simply created for ambiance, with a script written within the limits of their understanding of such things. They were capable of describing torture methods and the vile predilections of executioners—Asians know their stuff in that department, making the Spanish Inquisition look like amateurs—but Momonga's buddies lacked the brains to put in anything beyond the stereotypical image of a dark dungeon in a sinister citadel of Evil. They observed the outward attributes, and that was that; they didn't care that the packaging was just a shell for the actual essence of a master of torture. Either they genuinely didn't get it due to adolescent ignorance, or they were too lazy to flesh it out, but the result—there it lay, as soot on the floor. A perverted, insane being that didn't just have no concept of the essence of her position—she actually did, "gathering information" she admitted herself—but despite knowing it, she couldn't even conceive of stepping outside the bounds of her programmed algorithms. It didn't matter that the task wasn't being accomplished, it didn't matter that she was being scolded and practically explained exactly what to do—the very thought that the approach might be wrong never occurred to her.
Then what? Are they just animated dummies with a limited set of behavioral patterns? But then where did THIS come from in the behavior of two completely different NPCs, created by different people, performing different roles, and belonging to different races? Where did their fear of being left alone come from? Where did the memory of their existence in Yggdrasil come from, when they merely walked a predetermined path or stood motionless at their posts? How could these pleas and emotions be born if we take as an axiom that they are only creating an appearance of will and intellect?
There was no answer. There was only a beautiful girl, gazing at me with desperate entreaty through tears in inhuman yellow-green eyes with vertical pupils.
"Albedo, I will not leave you, I promise." Perhaps it was despicable of me to play on her feelings using knowledge obtained from my home world, but it would calm her best right now. "I know how scared and pained you are, but do not cry, for you are my beloved dark angel, and angels should not be seen in public with tearful eyes. Come now, stop, and rather give me your enchanting smile." I wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes, inwardly regretting that the bones of my skull could not convey a warm smile.
"Be-beloved..." The demoness singled out the most important word, visibly leaving the black abyss of despair. "Enchanting..."
"Yes." A note for memory: another vital bonus of a reroll is the ability to smile! "And one more thing." Lifting the girl from her knees, I reached into my inventory. "Here, I have wanted to give this to you for a long time." On my hand glittered the Ainz Ooal Gown guild ring, which allowed free teleportation between floors and possessed several other useful functions.
"A ring that only the Supreme Beings are worthy to wear..." Albedo reached toward the extended relic in "sacred awe," but suddenly stopped, her fingers in their white gloves clenching into a trembling fist. "...No." With torment clearly written on her face, the girl pulled away, averting her gaze.
"No?" To be honest, I was greatly surprised. In the canon, if I recall, she jumped for joy upon receiving this ring; that was exactly the effect I was counting on.
"Lord Momonga is boundlessly kind to us, and now, to comfort his foolish servant, he offers her the greatest of Relics, a sign of belonging to the Supreme Beings..." The demoness dabbed her eyes with her fists, smearing tears across her cheeks. "But... I know that I am worthy of neither this gift nor your faith. I... cannot accept it."
"What makes you say that?"
"I know that the Lord does not trust us." She turned to me and bowed deeply. "For we have done nothing to justify his trust. No," she shook her head, "we have done nothing to justify our existence. You have no reason to trust us. You are even postponing your Rebirth because of this, though your current state weighs heavily upon you."
"Tsk, Shalltear talks too much. As does Sebas."
"Please, do not punish them! It is entirely my fault! As Overseer of the Guardians, I have utterly failed. If Lord Momonga does not trust us... hic," Albedo wept softly—quietly, without hysteria, just an inconspicuous and... completely hopeless sobbing. But what could I say or do in this situation? On one hand, I had a Greater Demon driven nearly to the brink of despair; on the other, what sane human would place even an ounce of trust in the entire panopticon gathered beneath these gloomy vaults? Except... it would be incorrect to call me a "sane human," not after what I had already experienced. Though it was but a drop in the ocean, even that drop had been enough.
"I had no intention of punishing them. I was merely stating a fact: that having received a mere pittance of information, you managed to interpret it in the most ridiculous fashion. And then spread it further."
"My Lord?" Albedo lifted her gaze to my face.
"I am Momonga, Lord of Ainz Ooal Gown, the King of Undead, a Supreme Being." It wasn't difficult to exert authority over the girl, who was short compared to me. "Had I deemed you unworthy of my trust, you would have shared Neuronist's fate, and that would be the end of it."
"T-then why?" The despair was gradually receding from those beautiful eyes with their vertical pupils.
"Why have I not yet undergone the Rebirth?"
"Yes..."
"There are several reasons. First, now that we find ourselves in a different world, I simply do not have the time. Second, being undead, despite the drawbacks, carries a multitude of benefits—such as the complete lack of need for sleep. And most importantly, I have not yet calculated the Rebirth Ritual, nor have I decided upon the form I wish to take once it is complete."
"Forgive us, My Lord, we thought that you..." The Overseer of the Guardians bowed her head in penitence.
"I understand. For all your power, you lack experience. Even basic life experience. That will pass with time." I certainly hoped so. "Learn, grow, and above all—if you have doubts or uncertainty, come to me for counsel." I hoped this would be enough so that when Demiurge gets the "brilliant" idea to vivisect a hundred or so... thousand people, he might actually discuss it with me first rather than presenting me with a finished project. This reasoning also allowed me to "save face," because the shift from "he doesn't trust us" to "he is afraid of us" isn't a long leap. And personally, I have no desire to find out what bloodthirsty dark creatures do when they scent fear—especially when it's mine they're smelling. So, it's not that I'm shitting myself... ahem, hesitant to reroll; it's just that I'm busy and haven't decided yet. Yes. Actually, that wasn't entirely a lie—I really did have a lot of questions regarding the final skill point allocation.
"We will exert every effort to justify the hopes placed upon us!" the girl cried out, visibly coming back to life.
"Splendid. In that case, I insist that my beloved dark angel accept this gift from me!" I once again held out the ring to her...
"Beloved... ring..." There! That was the reaction I wanted! That is how the proper Albedo should react to a ring from Momonga! The subscriber is unavailable or has temporarily entered Nirvana. Oh, she took it, good. And she put it on... the ring finger of her left hand... ahem... well then. Fine, let's leave it at that.
"Well... ahem." I really wanted to clear my throat, but alas. "Let us go. We still need to interrogate the head of the Scripture." My legs led the way toward the freezer where the corpses were kept.
"Yes, Supreme One," the girl chirped in a voice like ringing bells, hurrying after me with a face full of absolute bliss. Judging by her expression, she couldn't care less about miserable Nigun or the rest of the world at that moment.
In the cold storage, besides the Slane noble, lay five of his subordinates. The sadist had clearly developed a taste for it, having sucked the skulls of all those poor devils dry—a gruesome sight. At least she hadn't turned them all into lunch; I really didn't want to waste Resurrection charges on disposable material.
Furthermore, Nigun's body was quite badly damaged. In the game, it wouldn't have mattered, but this wasn't a game. Perhaps I should use True Resurrection? On second thought, no—wasting a ninth-tier spell... he can do without. Besides, according to game mechanics, it simply resurrected without experience loss, unlike standard Resurrection. Anyway, we'll raise him as is, but keep a healing potion handy. Nodding to my thoughts, I pointed the wand at the body and activated the spell.
A golden light enveloped the corpse, closing wounds before our eyes and even regrowing missing fingers. Moreover, an old facial scar the man had possessed before our "acquaintance" also vanished. So, the spell returns the body to an ideal state regardless of how old the injuries are. I'll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, the light faded, and Nigun opened his eyes...
"Oh... a n-nightmare... it waf juft a n-nightmare..." For a fraction of a second, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. I also wondered—is the speech impediment due to incomplete brain restoration, or is it supposed to be that way? And if so, why? If magic can restore an entire devoured brain, why are there issues with a much simpler system? It would be interesting to stud—I cut the thought short, realizing I was already calculating how to best organize data collection. This lich essence is really starting to get on my nerves.
"Well then, the warm-up is over." Tossing the extraneous thoughts aside, I drew the prisoner's attention. "We'll repeat this a few more times, and then we can start asking questions. I believe that after Neuronist, the other members of the Five Worst would also like to show their hospitality to our esteemed guest." The man shuddered and s-l-o-w-l-y turned toward my voice.
"Aaaaaaaaah!" A screaming naked man is not a particularly aesthetic sight. Though, after everything he'd endured, encountering his captor again—now with the mask removed, revealing a skeletal skull beneath—it's a wonder he didn't soil himself. Or perhaps he simply had nothing left?
"Albedo, please call Demiurge." With a gesture, I opened a portal to the seventh floor, the Blazing Temple—the residence of Nazarick's chief strategist. Of course, the girl could teleport herself now, but Demiurge couldn't; the rings only worked for the wearer.
"As you wish, My Lord!" the demoness bowed and stepped into the dark haze of the gateway.
"No-no, please, no more," whimpered the completely broken little man. "I... I will tell you anything you wish, My Lord... please." A pathetic sight.
Again, I ground my teeth. My intellect understood perfectly well that after what he'd been through, anyone would be whimpering and crawling at one's feet, provided they remained sane at all. Yet that contemptuous, arrogant judgment kept rising in my mind, as if I hadn't been an ordinary human myself just a week ago—one even weaker than him.
Nigun was still babbling something, trying to crawl toward my feet to kiss my robe, praying and swearing loyalty... I cast Sleep on him. It's a shame I can't cast it on myself; losing myself for ten hours would be very welcome right now.
"I have come at your call, Lord Momonga!" By the time Demiurge stepped through the portal and bowed elegantly, I had resurrected the rest of the Theocracy mages as well, sending them too into the land of dreams—and, I feared, nightmares. Albedo appeared behind the demon, looking satisfied and radiant.
"Excellent. I want you to handle the interrogation of our guest and his men. Question him in detail about his homeland. I am interested in everything: its structure, politics, economy, dirty laundry..." Wait, he might take that literally. "...that is to say, compromising information on the Theocracy's organizations and their members. Find out who the Cardinals are as individuals, what other Scriptures exist, whether they have separate bases, vaults, or monastic lands. All rumors of powerful artifacts, relics, and spells—where they came from, who made them, what they can do. What the situation is on the borders and inside the country, how the Slane Theocracy lives, and with whom it is at odds. Military potential, resource volume—essentially everything a noble, a mage, and the head of one of the country's most vital security units would know. Furthermore, I am especially interested in their magical tradition. I want everything, from the most primitive tricks and nursery exercises to the pinnacle of their arcane art. I want to understand why they are so weak and what the difference is between our schools of magic despite their outward identity. In Yggdrasil, humans were quite capable of reaching the tenth tier of magic, but here that is clearly not the case. Compile the acquired knowledge into reports using their terminology with brief explanations. If possible, consolidate everything into working methodologies. It would be best to obtain copies of the textbooks they used to master their craft, but I doubt they can recall everything in such detail, so do not over-exert yourself in that direction—I have no use for pieces of meat that have lost their minds or corpses that failed to survive torture. To speed things up, enlist your subordinates and the other prisoners."
"As expected of the Ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick!" the demon cried triumphantly, adjusting his glasses with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. "You have accounted for every nuance and identified the likely root of the problem! Have no fear, we shall make them remember everything, My Lord!"
"Yes, Demiurge. And do not forget to clothe them, move them somewhere warmer, and feed them. I have no desire to resurrect these prisoners yet again."
"It shall be done, My Lord!" the demon bowed once more.
With that, we left the "hospitable" basement. I caught myself thinking yet again that... I was completely unmoved. I had reacted with total indifference to the torture of a human being—granted, not a good one, but a living creature nonetheless. Furthermore, I had threatened him with continued torture myself to finally break his will. Hmph. The only thing that cheered me in this situation was that I would obtain the coveted textbooks on the basics. Even if they truly differed from the Yggdrasil system, having "professional" literature on "correct" methodology would likely allow me to identify the differences and mitigate any flaws. Especially if I involved the Chief Librarian and his subordinates in the process. Nevertheless, even by the most optimistic forecasts, this would take a mountain of time, and world events wouldn't be standing still. The unit that managed to brainwash Shalltear in the canon has likely already set out...
Having dismissed Albedo, who surprisingly didn't object at all (the girl flitted out of the office with a mysterious, dreamy smile on her lips), I collapsed tiredly into my chair. My body felt not the slightest discomfort—it's bone, what can happen to it? But inside, I felt foul. Not with emotion, but with my mind.
Destroying Neuronist Painkill had been the right move—I had no use for such a vile and deranged personality. The problem was that I had reached this conclusion simply by assessing her efficiency and possible "corrupting influence"; I simply didn't care about anything else. My intellect understood how revolting it was, and emotions were beginning to stir, influencing my judgment, but then they were snuffed out by the lich's passive, and I can now barely recall them, considering only rational motives. Hell, after killing the bitch for merely torturing half a dozen people to death, I had seriously considered only resurrecting the leader of the Scripture—the value of the others was highly questionable and certainly less than the cost of a charge in the Wand of Resurrection. It would have been far more logical to use them for experiments as bodies for raising undead. Perhaps if Demiurge and Albedo had appeared a bit earlier, I wouldn't have resurrected them at all. Or was I moved by Nigun's plea after all? I feel nothing now... And so it goes—the perception of events from memory depends on one's emotional state at the moment of analysis and is independent of elapsed time, since so little has passed. Only the established judgments from my past life remain stable, but how much time will it take for them to distort? The outcome of that event is a cold understanding that the contempt for the prisoner's insignificance is an affectation of the body, not mine. Following that understanding comes a logical conclusion: I must fight the delusion and act contrary to its advice. Result: the resurrection of all the tortured people. Not out of the goodness of my heart, nor even obeying a momentary whim or pity, but solely due to sheer stubbornness and having the time to spare when I had nothing else to do and the Wand of Resurrection was right there in my hand. And yet, even though I was no humanist or, Cthulhu forbid, a bleeding heart, I was never an indifferent vivisector... No, I wasn't. Just a little more, and one could truly have spoken in the past tense. No, the impulses of the lich's nature must be crushed, and I must always act strictly to the contrary... the problem is that the further I go, the more correct and logical they seem to me. I think I have two or three months before I become a soulless maniac... unless the rate of decay increases. And within that time, the issue of the reroll must be resolved. Though it's easier said than done, to put it mildly.
All of yesterday, after my "heroic" flight from the women's squabbles, I spent studying Gazef's ring and... let's call them related researches. Here was another problem—the "level booster." How it works is unclear. What its potential is—also unclear. Though it's unlikely to be more than two or three levels; even if this item was created by "non-game" mechanisms, I doubt it possesses any kind of omnipotence. Otherwise, there would be packs of humans wandering around here who were in no way inferior to Yggdrasil players. But even two or three levels at the cap is a hell of a lot, and it would be incredibly useful for a reroll. Except, will the reroll even work if I go beyond the maximum possible limits of the system? Will it glitch? As luck would have it, I couldn't extract anything useful on this topic from Momonga's memories. I myself, however, perfectly remembered a similar thing in "World of Warcraft," where a certain artifact with a brilliant effect would get a tag saying "does not work on players above level X" after a new global expansion was released.
And regarding the ring itself, I had a mountain of questions—mainly how to replicate it, but other, less pressing ones remained. For instance, is the effect permanent? In the sense that if you put it on, gain a level, and take it off... what happens? Does the level stay? Does it vanish? Or is it a different effect entirely that simply adds a couple of levels to the wearer? The concept of "allows one to exceed the limit" is quite vague no matter how you look at it. However, based on the context I knew, a drop in power level after removing the ring hadn't occurred. But fine, let's assume it sticks—what about experience? In Yggdrasil, after reaching the level cap, experience continued to accumulate, but further levels did not appear even if you racked up a couple trillion points. This existed primarily to make high-level content playable, as any death (as well as the use of certain skills and spells) drained a certain amount of XP. If you didn't want to start farming your last level—or even two—all over again after every death, be it PVP or a world boss wipe, you were expected to grind a "safety cushion" in advance, which wasn't difficult. And here arose another question: did I still have that "cushion" that Momonga had grinded over years of persistent daily farming? And if so, does that mean as soon as I put on the ring, I'll level up instantly without doing anything at all?
Questions, questions, questions—one could break their brain with guesswork forever. It wasn't any easier planning the "skill" layout for the reroll. Satoru had optimized his skeletal alter-ego like a god, but he hadn't played other races or classes. As a result, his knowledge of them was second-hand at best. He knew how to fight them, what they could do, and what to expect—his psycho friends had told him plenty, and he'd spent a lot of time in the Nazarick-themed builder—but it wasn't the same. I had to sift through all the spec-building manuals in the library that the guild had dragged in from the internet and read, read, read, constantly wondering if the "expert" in question was writing something truly valuable or just talking out of his ass. The latter was very possible for Yggdrasil, as in Momonga's strange world, there were no honest online wikis describing the game's secrets. Instead, there was a deranged, pervasive spy-mania, and everyone clung to their secrets like a mouse to its grain. Wild Asians, damn them...
During my time in this world, I had found several other options for race changes—many items for this were kept right in the library—but at the moment, the most "appetizing" ones were the same ones I found on the first day. Leading the pack was becoming a Greater Demon specialized in Death Magic. The slightly reduced power of the school of death and necromancy would be more than compensated for by a general increase in spell power and purely demonic perks. Plus, all the advantages of a living being and physical stats comparable to Cocytus. All in all, a Mythical race was very tempting. If not for one "but." Here, the "Demonic Rage" skill could turn out to be a curse far worse than the lich's rationality. Hell, I'm almost certain that the urge to go on a rampage would hit me ten times as often as the intent to vivisect someone does now!
On the other side of the scale was a Fallen Angel. First, here it isn't a Giant Robot, which is already good. Second, it opens the possibility of casting Holy Magic and, most pleasantly, Resurrection. But that's where the pluses ended. Holy light wasn't particularly useful for the denizens of Nazarick, yet at the same time, it wasn't so overwhelming that I could rely on it if things ever came to "disagreements" with Albedo. Cocytus, for one, couldn't care less about all those hang-ups and vulnerabilities from his height as an insectoid cryomancer. And I would severely cut my combat advantages as an angel even if I swapped Death for Darkness in my "profession"—it's entirely different racial perks and quality of improvements. Not to mention that my gear is tailored for a lich; even if I have other equipment, it would take a long time to adjust it with a calculator, crunching stats and caps. However... an angel shouldn't lose their mind. And that outweighed a lot.
The ideal option would be to mix races; fortunately, the Yggdrasil system allowed such things, otherwise the world wouldn't be full of so many mutants—the most "distinguished" of which were settled in Nazarick. But how could such a system be implemented here? Apply both items simultaneously? Or sequentially? Or are there other special conditions required? There's no console to manage the effects! In short, it would be best to experiment on someone disposable. The trouble is, I don't have that many Fallen Angel Feathers or Greater Demon Blood samples. I understand that in Nazarick, any epic, legendary, or even mythical item that other guilds farm for months is likely sitting in some closet in bulk, but still.
And, damn it, besides all that, there were other problems: the unit that controlled Shalltear, diplomatic relations with the Re-Estize Kingdom, the legalization of Nazarick, and how to steer all these charming monsters in a positive direction.
Most importantly—the unit. I don't remember the dates at all, but they appeared in the surrounding forests quite soon after Nazarick's transport. That means I am already on the verge of meeting people who can turn both me and any of the Guardians into their slave. Momonga's memories and canon information agree that this can only be done with a World-class item and that, supposedly, the mere fact of possessing another World-class item can protect against it... And... I don't know. It's not very convincing. Yes, World items didn't allow the effect of another World item to work on their owner, but that was in the game, and even then, it was a bit ambiguous. People with World items equipped don't usually clash with each other; such noble lords generally have plenty of other ways to solve issues besides vulgar brawling. In other words, there's no real data. That's one. And second, who knows how it will work in the real world? Suppose my World item disrupts the enemy's item and prevents its full potential—what good is that to me if I turn into a half-controlled NPC like Shalltear in the canon, standing stupidly and mindlessly in one place until someone enters the aggro zone, and even after combat mode activates, unable to think and analyze my actions? No, giving World items to the Guardians as Momonga did is probably necessary—what if it actually works? But letting the Guardians come into contact with that unit—no way! Only trash and the most useless junior commanders. There's plenty of that stuff here, and it should be enough for the locals, even if they spam mind control every second. Now to decide how to find that unit in time and drive them into a trap... The forests around are vast—no Mirror of Remote Viewing can cover everything, and sending an army in blind is a bad idea.
I'll have to task Aura—she surely has someone in her menagerie for such things. That girl even has gold dragons, so surely she has some dogs or squirrels with a good sense of smell... I hope. At worst, Mare is a druid; he can tame the locals! Or we'll figure something else out...
The Kingdom is both more complicated and simpler at the same time. The King will likely send me an invitation, and there's nothing to worry about there, but there is one nuance. Somewhere in the vicinity of E-Rantel, there's a malevolent local-scale necromancer, and soon a bad girl with stilettos will join his party—someone whose brains and philanthropy are more acidic than most of Nazarick's. Then those two will stage an undead uprising in the local cemetery, planning to slaughter the entire city for some murky goals. Now, the question: what will they think in the capital when first a Captain of the Guard arrives and tells them about a creepy mage who can raise high-tier undead, and then, in the immediate vicinity of where that mage was last seen, an epic undead breakout suddenly occurs and a whole city is butchered? I would blame the mage. So, ideally, this matter must be stopped, either in its infancy or at the very beginning of the active phase. The latter is easier. Simply because setting up surveillance over the city and spotting the start of a zombie apocalypse requires no effort or special skills from the observer—just put any Pleiade in front of a Mirror of Remote Viewing and let her report. However... that would look very much like a staged performance on my part. Competent people will inevitably wonder about the suspiciously fast reaction, and even if I can convincingly bullshit them about studying the city and accidentally discovering the problem, a bitter aftertaste will remain.
This seems like an entirely insignificant detail, since "inferior beings and their problems" and all that, but if the lich in me says someone's feelings and emotions should be spat upon and ground underfoot, that's a warning bell. As the saying goes, "listen to the priest and do the exact opposite." So we'll stick to that wisdom. In short, the first option. And the first option will have to be implemented personally. Right now, I have no one who could play field agent for such an operation. They're all children, even Sebas—the wisest and most mature—is in fact very limited in his communication skills. Not to mention that most of my—forgive me, Lor... ahem... Orlangur—charges are capable of turning even the simplest and most peaceful mission into a bloodbath full of accidental destruction and unmotivated violence. Chaotic Evil characters in all their glory.
So, we go ourselves. However, Sebas won't let me go alone. I don't know if he'll block the exit, sic Albedo on me, or just nag and trail behind, but it's easier to agree to a companion than to argue with this mother hen. Whom to take? Experience has shown that Shalltear is not the best choice. Yes, if needed, she can play the innocent child quite well. But if in a small village I had to practically hold her hand constantly, fearing she'd rip someone's head off because a "miserable worm breathed wrongly in the direction of the adored Supreme One," then in a large city—where arrogant nobles might be found and the population is orders of magnitude larger—this "sweet girl" would need to be kept on a short leash and in a muzzle. Except there are two problems: the locals are unlikely to appreciate it—one. Shalltear would probably enjoy it—two. Take Albedo instead? Hmmm... No, essentially it would be the same as with Shalltear, if not worse. Not to mention her wings and horns are impossible to hide. Besides, my Overseer is really one of the few who can watch over the Nazarick panopticon in my absence and even—after my little talk—I hope she can keep the residents from total insanity. So, perhaps the canon choice of Narberal is more than reasonable. She doesn't see humans as anything but "trash" and "insects" either, of course, but at least she is disciplined enough not to require hand-holding. She also isn't strong enough for her snapping to result in a bloodbath covering half the city. I mean, I have no doubt of her potential, but it will take her longer to wreck E-Rantel than it would any Floor Guardian, giving me more time to reel her in.
Alright, the roster is decided; now for the plan of action. The city is medieval and only considered large by local standards, which means there's likely only one cemetery. Two at most. Scouring all the crypts is an easy task, so eliminating the main source of the problem will take a single day. But besides the mage—whom I could try turning into a regular Lich as an experiment, maybe even an Elder Lich would come of it... ahem, yes, that would be an interesting exp... god damn it!
A skeletal hand slammed down with all its might onto the table of enchanted bog oak. The table groaned piteously but withstood the test with honor. The fact that I was seriously calculating how to best turn such interesting material as a level 20-25 necromancer into undead... was troubling. To be honest, it wasn't even that troubling anymore... which was even more troubling, as strange as that sounds.
Anyway, back to the city visit plan. The necromancer is only half the trouble. There was also the half-naked maniac with the armored bra made of local adventurer guild tags, who might simply not be in the mage's lair at the moment of my visit. Since the thought "what do I care about this psycho, let her cut whoever she wants as long as it doesn't affect my interests" immediately arose in my head, I decided to stop her at all costs. Hmph, I now perfectly understand the words of a certain respected fellow named Mephistopheles, who introduced himself as "I am part of that power which eternally wills evil and eternally works good." Maybe he was one of us too but got stuck as a demon? An interesting theory, but it doesn't solve the problem of what to do with the killer. Searching for an assassin in a densely populated city where they are at home and you are a guest is a doomed idea from the start. That leaves an ambush in a place where she is certain to appear. First—the crypt with the necromancer's base, but that's a murky option. That crypt still needs to be found, and if I plan an ambush, I have to find it unnoticed and hide literally inside the enemy's lair unnoticed. Too many non-profile conditions for my class. Invisibility is a brilliant thing, I won't deny it, as is the trap-finding spell, but the whole thing can be ruined by a single careless movement. The second option is much simpler—the alchemy shop of that lad Enri... wait, Nfirea Bareare, whom these actors will be kidnapping. Simply plant a reverse-teleportation artifact on him or just cast the spell immediately, and as soon as he's kidnapped—port to his location. Fast, elegant, effortless.
And by the way, it offers a few other side benefits. One can surely buy a lot of useful things in the city, like world maps, legal codes, some historical treatises, and magic textbooks, after all. Serious things are unlikely to be on open sale, but surely some manuals must be circulating? Adventurer guild mages must get their knowledge from somewhere. The trouble is, I don't know where or whom to ask, but one of the city's best alchemists is a different story entirely—he's definitely in the know, and I have a letter of recommendation from his crush with me.
Hmm... And since we're on the subject of partially repeating Momonga's feats, it's worth remembering the other points. What do I even remember of his adventures at the start of the story? Saved Carne Village and Gazef, but that's fine. Joined the adventurer's guild and traveled with a team of romantic youngsters, one of whom turned out to be a girl in disguise. Saved the city, recruited the alchemist's family, caught a mutant forest hamster, defeated a brainwashed Shalltear, and... there was something else about sending Sebas and Solution somewhere in the kingdom to gather info. Not much. Oh right, Shalltear also hunted bandits and mentally destroyed one of the local top swordsmen who was hanging around with those bandits for some reason instead of sitting in a cushy job in the royal guard.
Of all this, the alchemist's recruitment is a definite plus. Nazarick's stores have enough potions to fill a couple of school swimming pools, but their volume is finite, and there's no one to craft them nor anything to craft them from. All in all, it's a necessary and useful task, no doubt. Repeat it? Probably. even if I manage to establish contact with Re-Estize and get access to state alchemists, having your own on hand is still better than not, and the lad seems talented. Plus, there's the easy means of control through his sweetheart...
"Tsk..." Thought control, control! A knife to the throat is not the only method of interacting with people. NOT the only one! Remember it. Fix it. Write a memo and stick it on your forehead!.. Actually, that's a good idea. Well, except for the forehead. But starting a notebook for basic truths is definitely something I should do.
After a minute spent sorting through my inventory, I found nothing suitable. There were writing implements, even quite modern pens, but no notebooks or sheets of paper. None in the desk either. Or in the office in general. Game location, damn it...
"Lupus," I caught sight of the Battle Maid who had quietly "taken up her post" as my "nanny" some time ago and was bored in invisibility near the door. One of my rings allowed me to see the invisible, so her presence was no secret to me.
"Yes, Lord Momonga! What do you desire-su?" the red-haired werewolf jumped in place, dropping her invisibility.
"I need a notebook for memos. Be so kind as to bring me something suitable."
"Oh? Ah! I'll be right back-su! It'll be top-notch-su! Have no doubt, Momonga-sama!" And the Pleiade dashed out the door, her tight braids flying.
So, where was I? Joining the Adventurer's Guild—definitely not. In theory, one could imagine a situation where such a status might be useful, but not now, and I don't think anytime soon. That party of adventurers with a name something about black swords? Not interested at all. I remember feeling sorry for them, but this is precisely the case where all the problems of good people stem from encountering the denizens of Nazarick. In the canon, they ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time specifically because they got involved with Momonga; since that is the case, there is even less reason to seek them out. And, for the most part, that leaves the swordsman who ran into my lovely vampire mistress. Here, it is complicated... His utility is zero, his threat level is zero. I can only rely on the memories of the emotional response he evoked in me before I ended up in this body, but even there, I am lost. He seemed like a pleasant character, someone to empathize with, especially when he overcame his breakdown after realizing the abyss that lies between humans and the monsters of Nazarick—specifically through his fight with Shalltear—but what follows from that? Send Shalltear to intimidate him and let him go just the same? Um... It is not even the lich essence here; I simply see no rational core in it, even from a moral standpoint. Yes, it supposedly helped him grow as a person, surpass himself, and find a new meaning in life, but... Damn this body! It is impossible to reflect on such matters when any emotion slightly above the floorboards is immediately snuffed out by the hardware! I need an advisor... preferably a six-year-old child who, regardless of authority, will point out to me what the world of a normal person looks like, and not that of a completely brain-damaged undead. Yes, exactly as the Hundred Rules of the Dark Lord dictate... I should recall and write them down, by the way; there are some very wise thoughts there. Especially about searching for artifacts and behavior in society... It is decided—I will write down everything I can remember and compel all the Guardians to learn them by heart. Even if it does not help with their eccentricities, it will at least keep them occupied for a while.
"I am back-su!" Lupusregina Beta flew joyfully into the office, clutching a black little book in her hand.
"Well done, bring it here," I said, extending my hand and immediately receiving the much-needed notebook... in a binding reinforced with golden metal and bearing the crest of Ainz Ooal Gown on the cover. I did not even want to think about where she had gotten it.
Well then, let us begin... A knife to the throat is not the only method of interacting with people. Three exclamation marks, underlined twice. Excellent. Now for the Rules... And after that, I will need to go and task Aura with organizing patrols and the search for our dear mind-controllists, but first, the Rules of the Dark Lord...