"This isn't something to hesitate about, Momonga-san!"
Momonga glanced at the "Message" bar. There were private messages from Peroroncino, Variable Talisman, Beast King Mekongawa…
Outwardly, he kept a calm and thoughtful demeanor, but in reality, he was frantically opening each one.
Every message read the same:
"Ah~ this condition is too good. Every time I see one of Peroroncino's creations like Shalltear, I get so xxx…"
Hey, hey, what the hell is this dangerous remark? And what kind of unspeakable filth is hidden behind that censored "xxx"?!
"My path as a warrior is one of solitude. I will not be swayed by temptation from worldly things."
Momonga felt a rare relief. Warrior Takemikazuchi was at least dependable.
But before he could savor the thought, he saw the second half of the message.
"It's absolutely not because I envy Tabula Smaragdina's Albedo… but if we had an extra 500-level slot, surely creating a figurine wouldn't anger Master Miyamoto's spirit in heaven."
Your Master Miyamoto would rise from his coffin, make you wait three hours, then beat you with two rolling pins before finally letting you pull out the Thunder God Sword, damn it!
"Even though I'm just a grade-schooler, I… I also want to…"
Yamaiko-san, that's a dangerous thing to say. Even if you're female, that's still jail time!
Momonga panicked. To stabilize the situation, he quickly skimmed through the rest of the guild members' messages. In short, every single one of them supported accepting the GM's commission.
Bukubukuchagama's words carried the most weight:
—"This is basically free real estate."
Free… real estate????
FREE REAL ESTATE!!!!
Those two words carried a power surpassing even super-tier magic. In an instant, the entire guild had united under a single stance.
"Momonga-san—no, Guildmaster. Let's do it."
"Yeah, Momonga-san, this is an opportunity we can't miss! As a housewife, I never skip a bargain at the market, and I won't skip one in-game either!"
...
Oh my, it's rare for everyone to be this fired up. When was the last time? Right—the time they all raided and conquered the Great Tomb of Nazarick together.
Momonga let nostalgia wash over him for a moment.
"Alright! I've decided!"
He struck the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown against the ground, adopting a solemn and dignified tone.
"I—Momonga, as Guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown, hereby represent all guild members in officially accepting the GM's commission."
The moment his words fell, beams of radiant light pierced the clouds and shone down upon every guild member present. At that moment, they were the brightest stars in the sky.
"What… is this?"
The onlooking ordinary players were dumbstruck, flooding the chat with "shocked" emotes.
One particularly experienced player, wide-eyed, muttered: "No mistake… I've seen this before. This is the divine blessing of GM protection."
"Nani? These heteromorphs, whose justice values are lower than the bandits I kill, are being blessed by the GMs? Where's the justice? Where's the law?"
But perhaps this was simply the principle of overlooking the small for the sake of the greater good. Regardless of Ainz Ooal Gown's strange hobbies or skewed values, in the most crucial of moments, strength alone was the universal standard.
The radiant light also signified that Momonga's declaration had truly reached the heavens—acknowledged and recognized by the official system. Thus, all guild members of Ainz Ooal Gown received divine favor and protection.
...
Meanwhile, those players who had been waiting on the first floor for news of the GMs' victory were still locked in battle within Shitennō Heaven, desperately holding back waves of endlessly respawning monsters.
On the right wing, the leading unit was commanded by a top-tier druid clad in "obviously OP" gear. He constantly raised protective totems around his allies, occasionally toggled forced PK mode to restrain a teammate under the influence of Brahma Chant, then with a howl transformed into a massive white-furred bear. Casting buffs on himself as he charged headlong into the monster horde, he embodied the full extent of his functional versatility.
The main damage dealers were three elves clad in artifact-grade light armor sets. Their forms darted rapidly through the ranks, loosing arrows, providing cover fire, or finishing off enemies. As hidden-class [Holy Arrow Saints], their mobility and lethality were top-tier in the team. Most of the time, the three stood at different vantage points, unleashing volleys of arrows outward, dealing tons of damage.
At the very center was a large group made entirely of spellcasters. YGGDRASIL was a game without any natural mana recovery, but the ingenuity of players was limitless—especially this veteran group of "magic chanters." Ever since they were once beaten into the dirt by Champions, they had devised tactics to handle both sudden strikes and prolonged battles.
Under the team's protection, they had constructed a massive magic array at the center. This array absorbed ambient mana, creating a giant energy shield that sealed off most of the monsters outside their position. At the same time, it provided a stable output of super-tier magic for emergencies, while also casting buffs like [Accelerate Time] for allies. They were attack, defense, and support all in one. Their physical frailty—easily killed if controlled—was cleverly countered: under Brahma Chant debuffs, they would simply auto-swing their staves like melee fighters, a bizarre yet effective workaround.
Amidst this strategy, a calm voice issued orders in the voice channel:
"Buff Team One, hurry and reapply buffs—they've been dispelled again."
"Yes. [Mass Physical Enhancement], [Mass Mental Enhancement], [Mass Magic Resistance]..."
"Tank Team Two, rotate defensive skills and replace the front line. Watch your debuff timers—if they pass 80%, retreat immediately. Strip gear, prepare for resurrection."
...
The tactics were solid and professional. But the sheer number of monsters on the first floor exceeded all expectations. Endless portals poured out monsters in an unbroken tide, surging from every direction.
"Captain, at this rate the shield won't hold. Even with the array recycling mana, the casters can't keep up with consumption. We'll…"
"Another wipe?"
The temporary overall commander was a man clad in black World Champion armor. His commanding ability had already been proven over the past days—his growth and adaptability were astounding.
But against this difficulty, even he felt powerless.
"Damn it! If not for the monsters suddenly entering Berserk state, we wouldn't be struggling this badly."
In Berserk, monsters became nearly immune to all debuffs and control except instant-death, while gaining a massive boost to both attack and defense. He had done everything he could.
"Don't tell me—even with elites from three worlds united, we can't even clear the first floor of this dungeon?"
As a World Champion, his pride would not allow surrender. Yet the hopelessness before him left him without options.
Every player here, after three days of desperate survival, longed for reinforcements. Someone, anyone, who could break this deadlock—perhaps a world-class item holder, or a hidden class. Who could save them now?
Suddenly, across the chat channel, a massive line of explosive subtitles appeared:
"Hahahaha~ With a thunderous crash from the sky, your grandpa makes his dazzling entrance!"
From the same teleportation gate through which they had first entered, a red-skinned gnome less than half a meter tall suddenly appeared in the middle of their formation.
The already-tense mages stiffened instantly. At the sight of this gnome, three spellcasters immediately force-logged off. The rest stared at him, trembling with unease.
His skin writhed and bulged grotesquely, covered in tumors that vented scalding steam. Wearing nothing but a tattered robe barely covering the essentials, he looked poorer than any pauper—no gear, no equipment.
—Except for the one thing around his neck: a shining silver cross.
"S-s-s-s-self… Self-Destruction Maniac!"
Some sharp-eyed players had already recognized the gnome's identity.
As the scourge of an entire world, the infamous "Self-Destruction Maniac's" real name had long been forgotten. After all, most players, the moment they glanced at his ID, were already blown to bits in the next second.
Thus, a legend spread through that world: "If you see a red-skinned gnome with a cross around its neck, don't hesitate—log off immediately~."
Judging from the length of that trailing "ah" and its symbols, one could imagine the psychological trauma behind those words.
Several of the magic chanters present had once traveled to other worlds through portals, and so they too had heard whispers of this legend.
And now, they finally stood before it—whether fortunate or unfortunate, none could tell.
"Hahahaha, looks like I've got fans here too. But I don't have time to chat with you lot right now."
The gnome's red head swiveled side to side. "Hey, got any launching devices around here?"
"Eh?"
The mage he'd spoken to was maintaining a key part of the magic array. Being suddenly addressed by such an infamous being nearly caused the array to collapse.
With a "nervous" sticker, he answered: "Self-Destruction Lord, we're on the mystic side. High-tech stuff isn't our specialty."
"Clicking my tongue! You wizards who pride yourselves on wisdom can't even make a catapult or something? Failing that, no 'Mage's Fist' or similar to toss me out there?"
The gnome hopped impatiently. "Fair warning—my debuff's almost full. When I detonate, don't you dare blame me."
"Uhh!!"
The threat had its intended effect. Even the World Champion commander had to pause his orders and step forward. The moment he saw the unimpressive gnome, an overwhelming sense of doom filled him. Especially watching the creature's two yellow eyes rolling independently in different directions, he wondered if the heavens were playing a cruel joke. Was this even a player? Or had the dungeon spawned a monster?
"Um, Self-Destruction Maniac, we can't build siege engines right now, but… there's another way."
"What way? Hurry up—I'm about to blow!"
The commander quickly signaled to a nearby spellcaster. Blushing with a "shy" sticker, the caster swung his staff, conjuring a portal.
"Self-Destruction Maniac-sama, this portal can send you to a designated nearby location. But its range is only 3,500 meters…"
"So basically, more than 3,000 meters? Hehehehehe."
Not even letting him finish, the red-skinned gnome spammed "hehehehe" emotes like a madman.
"You pick the spot—I'll go blow myself up."
With that, the gray-skinned gnome dashed headlong into the portal.
"Commander, what now?!"
"Don't worry. I adjusted the exit beforehand. He'll land exactly where he's most needed."
Portal redirection was a trick any World Champion had to master. Otherwise, fighting spellcasters was impossible.
"Commander, where did you send him?" the others asked, curiosity burning.
"Take my advice: don't look northwest."
As he spoke, the commander put on a pair of sunglasses.
And then—
BOOOOM—
From the far northwest corner of the battlefield came a deafening roar. Players at the center saw, in the distance, a massive fireball expanding at blinding speed.
In reality, looking straight at such an explosion would mean guaranteed blindness. But thankfully, this was only a game. Those who stared directly at it merely received a short blindness debuff, quickly dispelled by pre-prepared purification totems.
The colossal orange-white fireball rose into the sky, expanding outward. The shockwave spread rapidly across the land, annihilating everything in its path—grass, trees, monsters—obliterated instantly by the sheer force of the blast.
The immense shockwave even shattered nearby portals, scattering all those in the northwest. The entire land of Shitennō Heaven quaked violently under the force.
Even players 3,500 meters away, upon witnessing it, were struck dumb.
Some players who hadn't been up to date on the rumors had scoffed at the unimpressive red gnome. Self-destruct? At best it might kill a few dozen, maybe a hundred monsters. At most, a super-tier magic equivalent.
But after seeing this world-shaking explosion, their faces froze solid.
"What kind of monster is this…?"
"Don't tell me this world will be saved through self-destruction?"
"I… I don't want to get turned into greenery!"
...
In the face of the Self-Destruction Maniac's overwhelming might, some players even began to doubt their chosen paths.
In reality, for explosions of this scale, the destructive power was typically distributed like so: shockwave about 50%, light radiation about 35%, early-stage nuclear radiation 5%, residual contamination 10%. The lethality was split accordingly.
But in the game, things like shockwaves or radiation were nothing but visual effects. The essence of this skill was simple: a 3,000-meter-radius AoE instant-death nuke.
At that moment, every monster within range simply fell before the "light wave" even reached them. It was sheer brutality.
And then, a few seconds later—
"With a thunderous crash from the sky, your grandpa makes his dazzling re-entrance~!"
Alongside the mushroom-cloud spectacle, under a flash of light, the familiar red gnome appeared once again in the players' midst.
This time, however, their gazes had completely changed.
Where once was disdain, now they looked as if they'd gladly grovel at his feet.
"As expected of Self-Destruction Maniac-sama… That blast's power surpasses super-tier magic by who knows how much. With your aid, this dungeon will surely fall."
"Yes, with you here, no End-Tier dungeon, no Berserk monsters, can withstand such might!"
"Self-Destruction Maniac-sama is this game's savior!"
The red gnome chuckled hehehe, basking in the flood of flattery and private messages. Twisting his hips mockingly, he lifted a finger—making a bold middle-finger gesture.
And under the stunned eyes of the players, he turned away and dove once more into a portal.
This time, the explosion erupted in the southeast, shaking heaven and earth. Nearly half of all the monsters in Shitennō Heaven were obliterated on the spot.
More importantly, the monster-spawning portals themselves collapsed under the force. The endless waves finally ceased. After days of struggle, the players finally saw hope for clearing the dungeon.
Just then, beams of teleportation light shone from the resurrection point in their midst.
"Reinforcements again?"
"Could it be companions of the Self-Destruction Maniac?"
...
When Ainz Ooal Gown's guild members entered the dungeon in all their grandeur, they were greeted by the blazing stares of the surrounding players.
"Uh…"
As a heteromorph guild—especially one known for less-than-'benevolent' playstyles—they weren't used to such gazes. Well, everyone except Takemikazuchi.
For guildmaster Momonga, however, his passive skill immediately triggered. He knew he had to say something. Clearing his throat, he amplified his voice with Banshee's Wail, exuding authority.
"Everyone, thank you for your hard work~ From here on, leave it to us—Ainz Ooal Gown!"
The moment his words ended, under the players' complex stares, the ground shook violently once more. From one corner of the land, a familiar mushroom cloud rose high into the sky.
BOOOOOOOM—