Chapter 148: Ainz's Guilty Conscience
Ainz's jawbone was still slightly open.
"After all," Demiurge continued in that completely certain tone of his, stating it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Pandora was created by you, Ainz-sama. His strategic thinking and intelligence would naturally be inherited from you."
He pushed his glasses up.
"So there was no need to go through the unnecessary step. I gave him a general outline, and Pandora understood everything from that."
Demiurge inclined slightly, his expression full of genuine reverence.
"Of course, if Ainz-sama had gone in person, even a general outline would have been unnecessary."
Ainz's jawbone opened a little further. The green light of forced calm flashed through him.
A soundless groan somewhere inside him.
Pandora improvised all of that entirely on his own and pulled off that kind of performance?
No, wait.
The real point is that if I had gone instead, Demiurge wouldn't have given me even a general outline.
Which means I would have been going in completely cold.
A complicated feeling welled up in Ainz.
Good thing it wasn't me.
He counted his blessings quietly.
If I had gone, and made a mess of it in front of all those citizens —
Ainz decided not to follow that thought any further.
He held his composure and steered the conversation forward.
"Mm." Ainz gave the operation his approval. "Demiurge. You and Pandora... well done."
Demiurge performed the German military salute again.
"You are too kind, Ainz-sama. We only did what was required of us."
Ainz watched that raised right hand, and from a purely technical standpoint, he had to acknowledge that the form was flawless. As someone with deep personal experience in this particular area, Ainz could confirm the execution was impeccable.
But watching Demiurge do that gesture in front of the other Guardians still sent a wave of something he couldn't entirely name surging through him.
Something deeply mortifying.
A soundless groan.
The green light of forced calm flashed and passed.
Ainz had a momentary impulse to say something. Tell Demiurge the gesture was too embarrassing. Ask him to stop doing it.
But.
Ainz's gaze settled on Demiurge's face for a moment.
The two individuals who had contributed the most to this operation were Demiurge and Pandora's Actor.
One had devised the plan. One had executed it.
And both of them were enthusiasts of the German military salute.
Pandora went without saying — the gesture had been part of Ainz's own design for him from the beginning, and he performed it with a natural ease that looked completely instinctive.
Demiurge had seen Pandora's performance, and then independently adopted it into his own daily conduct.
If Ainz spoke up now to put a stop to it —
The employee who contributed the most just finished executing a successful operation and is in the middle of reporting to his superior. And the superior's first words are "would you mind not doing that salute?"
Ainz imagined the scene.
That would be appalling management.
As a superior, there was absolutely no way he could say that right now.
Ainz resolved to endure it.
He did his best to not look at the gesture that was making his soul cringe.
Demiurge, evidently unaware of any of this inner turmoil, continued.
"Ainz-sama, what follows from here is simply a matter of letting the adventurer Momon's heroic reputation take root and spread through the capital."
"The citizens witnessed Momon drive back the Demon Lord with their own eyes. The name of the Adamantite-ranked team Darkness will spread through every street and alley in the capital very quickly."
"And with First Prince Barbro now dead in this attack, a significant vacuum will open in the Kingdom's power structure. As the hero who avenged the First Prince, Momon will naturally become someone every faction wants to court."
The curve of Demiurge's mouth rose slightly further.
"At that point, whether it's Second Prince Zanac or the noble faction, they will all need to secure Momon's favor. Through them, Nazarick can access core intelligence from the Kingdom's upper power networks."
Ainz listened to the analysis, and something settled into place inside him.
So that's it.
He turned it over quietly.
Not only make Momon a hero — but make him an object of competition between every faction in the capital. That way the Momon identity becomes thoroughly embedded in the Kingdom's power core.
Another layer understood.
Although he still privately thought he probably couldn't have designed anything this thorough himself.
Aura, sitting on Ainz's right thigh bone, swung her legs in the air.
"So from here, we can gather more intelligence about that dragon through Momon?"
"Precisely." Demiurge turned toward her and gave a slight nod. "Though it will take time."
"Reputations take time to spread. Information takes time to travel."
"Before that," Demiurge pushed up his glasses, "Momon will need to continue operating in the capital as an Adamantite-ranked adventurer — taking commissions, maintaining his standing, while waiting for the dragon to come to him."
Ainz sat on his throne, listening as Demiurge laid out layer after layer of it, feeling his understanding of the plan deepen with each passing moment.
But alongside that understanding came a different feeling he couldn't quite shake.
This plan feels like it goes on forever.
Probe, perform, wait for word, then probably more performing...
He exhaled quietly inside himself.
His face showed nothing.
"Demiurge." Ainz spoke, his voice steady.
"Yes." Demiurge inclined immediately.
"The follow-up is yours to manage."
"As you command, Ainz-sama."
Demiurge straightened — and performed another textbook German military salute.
Ainz's jawbone parted another fraction.
The green light of forced calm flashed through him again.
Here it comes again...
He groaned somewhere inside himself. But in the end he said nothing.
Aura and Mare climbed down from Ainz's thigh bones.
The two of them stood together — one bright and restless, one quiet and shy — the contrast between them as sharp as ever.
"Lord Ainz," Aura looked up, her mismatched eyes full of admiration, "we'll head back now."
"Mm." Ainz gave a nod. "Go on."
"G-goodbye, Ainz-sama..." Mare said quietly, and followed his sister toward the exit.
Albedo's voice came from behind the throne.
She was standing behind Ainz, her gaze resting on Demiurge, something subtle in her expression.
"Demiurge."
"Yes?"
"That gesture..." The corner of Albedo's mouth twitched once. "How long are you planning to keep doing it?"
Demiurge paused. A flicker of genuine confusion crossed that calculating face.
"Gesture? What gesture?"
Albedo didn't answer.
She simply turned to face Ainz, and that flawlessly beautiful face resumed its warm, gentle smile.
"You've worked hard today, Ainz-sama."
Ainz gave a slight nod.
Albedo's gaze lingered on his face for a moment before she stepped back to her usual position.
Demiurge stood where he was, looking at the right hand he had just been saluting with.
The confusion on that calculating face faded gradually, replaced by something like dawning understanding.
Ah. I see.
He thought it quietly.
Albedo is jealous.
She's jealous that I have a way to express my reverence for Ainz-sama like this, and she doesn't have a suitable opportunity.
The corner of Demiurge's mouth lifted into a knowing smile.
He said nothing, simply straightened his jacket and returned to his usual composed bearing.
Ainz looked out from the throne across the few people remaining in the hall.
Albedo standing at his side. Demiurge standing before him. In the distance, Aura and Mare had already disappeared through the exit.
The hall grew quiet.
The light from the magic lamps poured down from the vaulted ceiling, casting everyone's shadows long across the polished stone floor.
"Well then," Ainz said. "That's enough for today. Dismissed."
"As you command, Ainz-sama."
Demiurge and Albedo bowed simultaneously.
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