a.n.: Bonus chapter!
Heavy mahogany doors of Ashurbanipal closed silently behind me.
Shutting out the scent of old parchment and ink that filled the library's interior, the chilly air unique to the 10th Floor enveloped my black fog in its place.
Time still remained before the scheduled hour of my audience.
Remaining suspended a few inches above the floor, I began to advance down the vast marble corridor leading to the Throne Room, intentionally dropping my speed.
There was no need to rush. Rather, this very walk - the physical movement through space itself - was an extremely fresh and valuable experience for the current me.
Great Tomb of Nazarick, 10th Floor.
According to the Omniscient Database stored within my brain, the environment of this floor is perfectly indexed.
Paving the floor is marble processed from Chalk-White Divine Starstones, the highest-grade building material in YGGDRASIL.
The sculptures adorning the walls were modeled by players with art-creator classes who spent months of their time on them.
The chandeliers placed at equal intervals are perfectly adjusted via 1st Tier [Continual Light] magic so as not to cast a single shadow.
From the width of the passageways to the height of the ceiling, down to the coordinates of hidden defensive gimmicks, my brain grasped them all without a millimeter of deviation.
However—
"Knowing" and "Experiencing" were phenomena on entirely different planes of existence.
Moving my hundreds of pupils, I slowly looked up at the chandeliers on the ceiling.
What was merely a light source object in the data was now reflecting iridescent prisms onto the marble floor as actual, physical light. Particles of light danced faintly in the air, softly illuminating the surface of my black fog.
Unevenness of the reliefs carved into the walls birthed faint magical shadows. They existed not just as a collection of polygons, but as works of art possessing undeniable mass and history.
Directing my gaze down the passageway, the endlessly continuing chalk-white corridor created a majestic depth accompanied by perspective.
The faint resonance of magic power traveling through the air. The microscopic sound of the cluster of pages orbiting my body cutting through the air.
"...It is beautiful."
A low voice of admiration, meant for no one to hear, escaped my lips.
Stationed on the 8th Floor, my 『Vault of Wisdom』 is a massive warehouse for stuffing knowledge, a chaotic, dark abyss.
Ever since I was born, I had continued to observe the world from within that darkness.
Precisely because of that, the overwhelming beauty of this 10th Floor, surpassing even a temple of the gods, evoked an intense emotion in my visual processing sector.
Just how much passion and time did the Forty-One Supreme Beings spend to create this space?
Squeezing it in between their real-life jobs, arguing back and forth, they laid down these marble tiles one by one.
This is no mere defensive stronghold. It is, quite literally, a Golden Castle where their dreams and youth took physical form.
Extending an ink tentacle, I gently touched the edge of a luxurious tapestry decorating the wall.
The smooth texture of the silk, and the faint repulsive force of the anti-dirt magic imbued within it.
...I thought I knew absolutely everything about Nazarick, but...
Narrowing my hundreds of pupils, I quietly reflected on my own omniscience.
Even the beauty of this great tomb, my own home, I had never tasted with my own eyes until this very moment today.
...I really need to stop being such a shut-in.
While turning over such self-deprecating thoughts, I was gliding down the elegant corridor when it happened.
Up ahead in the passageway, from another intersecting corridor, my detection skills picked up the presence of multiple people approaching.
They were not intruders. The wavelength of the magic power they emitted undoubtedly indicated they belonged to Nazarick.
Eventually, appearing around the marble corner were three women.
Frilled aprons, classical long skirts based in black, and white brims resting on their heads. In their hands, they each gripped magical tools.
Homunculus maids, who shoulder the daily cleaning and maintenance of Nazarick.
Happily exchanging words, they were likely on their way to their duties to maintain the beauty of this floor.
However… the moment they turned the corner and captured my figure floating in the center of the corridor in their vision.
The three maids froze perfectly rigid, as if struck by lightning.
It was no wonder.
Suddenly appearing in the sacred, chalk-white corridor was a massive lump of black fog.
A Cthulhu Mythos monster possessing no defined contours, writhing with ink tentacles, and glaring with countless, brilliantly glowing bluish-purple pupils. Around it, countless pages swirled madly, defying gravity.
Homunculus maids have their levels set extremely low even within Nazarick, most of them are just slightly stronger Level 1.
In contrast, I am a Level 100 Elder Aberration who rules Vault of Wisdom in the 8th Floor, Nazarick's greatest taboo.
"Hii...!"
"A-Ah... L-Lord Tawil...!"
Desperately holding back from dropping the cleaning tools in their hands onto the floor, the maids hastily yielded the way to both sides of the passageway and fell to their knees on the marble.
They then took a posture of deep prostration, as if rubbing their faces against the floor.
I could tell that their slender shoulders were trembling in small increments, exactly like the Chief Librarian of Ashurbanipal earlier.
...Crap. I thought I was suppressing my intimidating presence, but I still scared them, huh.
Inwardly, I felt a slight pang of guilt.
From my perspective, they are splendid colleagues and hard workers who support this massive Nazarick behind the scenes.
From the sensibilities of a former salaryman, higher-ups who walk around intimidating the cleaning staff sweating profusely in the field are nothing but objects of contempt.
However, if I were to casually call out to them with a "Hey, good work," it could confuse them and inversely fan their terror even more.
The wall of hierarchy in Nazarick is just that absolute.
I understand you, Suzuki Satoru-san!!!!
Maintaining a constant speed, I decided to quietly pass between them as they prostrated themselves.
But simply ignoring them and passing by lacked courtesy toward the ones maintaining this beautiful floor.
The moment I passed right beside them.
A few of the parchments orbiting me broke from their trajectory and gently came to a halt right in front of their eyes.
And upon those pages, runes tinged with a faint, warm, pale blue light were gently printed.
『—Your daily cleaning duties. You have done well.』
『—It is the fruit of your devotion that this Supreme Domain is kept so beautiful. You should be greatly proud.』
I did not utter a single word.
Only the messages of those letters floating in the space gently jumped into their vision.
Timidly, the maids raised their faces and read the runes floating in the air.
The next moment, their trembling stopped completely, and the color of terror swiftly vanished from their eyes.
What surfaced in its place was surprise, and an overwhelming joy beyond words.
"S-Such generous words...!"
"Lord Tawil...! T-Thank you so much...!"
"We shall continue to dedicate these bodies with the resolve to crush our bones and smash our bodies for the Supreme Being and the Guardians!"
Some maids were moved to tears, while others once again rubbed their foreheads against the floor deeply - this time not out of fear, but out of pure gratitude and respect.
Direct appreciation for their labor from an absolute powerhouse guarding the deepest part of Nazarick.
To low-tier NPCs like them, it was likely the greatest reward, irreplaceable by anything else.
...Alright. That should have conveyed at least a little bit that I'm not just a terrifying monster.
Feeling relieved inwardly, I returned the pages to my orbit and advanced my walk without looking back.
Their existence gave me a certain conviction.
Not just Lord Ainz and the Floor Guardians.
Including those small maids working so desperately, this entire organization known as Nazarick are the "Comrades" I must protect.
My resolve to stop Demiurge's rampage and guide Lord Ainz to the best possible path had become even more rock-solid by walking this beautiful corridor and seeing their smiles.
Eventually.
At the dead end of the marble corridor, those massive doors appeared.
The heart of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the entrance to the Throne Room.
Heavy, double-leaved doors boasting a height that required one to look up.
Carved onto its surface as a meticulous and horrifying relief were the designs of the seventy-two demons recorded in the 『Lesser Key of Solomon (Lemegeton)』.
The heavy pressure of magic power emitting from the doors themselves was so overwhelming that it would be impossible for the maids from earlier to even approach it.
Beyond these doors sits our Supreme Master, Ainz Ooal Gown.
Coming to a halt before the doors, I neatly arranged my black fog tentacles.
Synchronizing the blinking of my hundreds of pupils, I settled the chaotic wavelengths of my magic power into an extremely flat state.
Data preparations are perfect. The magic system of the New World, the analysis of Martial Arts, and Nazarick's future action guidelines based on that... I will present everything to Lord Ainz in the shortest and most logical format.
Pulling the index of the 『Executive Summary』 stored in the database within my brain to the very front, I completed a simulation of the presentation in fractions of a second.
From here on out, I am not merely a Keeper of Knowledge.
It is a battlefield as the ultimate Advisor who sways the future of Nazarick.
The moment I released my access privileges and poured magic power indicating my will for an audience into the doors.
Rumble, rumble...
Accompanied by a heavy bass sound that echoed in the bottom of the stomach, the massive doors carved with the seventy-two demons slowly began to open to the left and right.
From the gap in the doors, the dazzling light of the Throne Room overflowed into the marble corridor.
I directed my hundreds of pupils deep into that light, toward the throne of the Absolute Ruler set up far on high.
Without a single shred of hesitation, Tawil Balah glided his body of black fog into the majestic hall of the King.