Meanwhile, at a most crucial meeting of the Floor Guardians.
"Mmm?" Shalltear, stepping out of a portal, scanned the Throne Hall. "Was it not Lord Momonga who summoned us? Or will he be arriving shortly?"
"No, Shalltear. It was I who summoned you," Albedo replied, her wings swaying peacefully back and forth. She didn't even turn toward the final guest. The demoness's eyes were half-closed, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the veil of ordinary reality.
"Hey! What is the meaning of this?" the vampire frowned. "Just because you are the Overseer doesn't give you the right to call a general meeting for any little reason! Especially not in the Throne Hall! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to style one's hair before being allowed to appear before the Supreme One? Though, how would you know?" Bloodfallen waved a hand dismissively. "You always walk around without even brushing the hair out of your face."
"Ehehe..." Aura muttered, anticipating nothing good from the start of this meeting. Mare simply hid behind his sister.
"Your petty attacks do not move me," Albedo responded in a soft voice, continuing to squint happily. "They only prove that you are still an utterly mindless child, thrashing about and failing to find your place in the world."
Demiurge gave an imperceptible shiver, wondering if it had been wise to interrupt the work organized by Lord Momonga's order for the sake of an "extremely important meeting." Cocytus and Sebas, however, remained motionless; being exceptionally powerful warriors, they possessed equally exceptional fortitude and willpower.
"Ha! And you think you know something about that?" Shalltear replied with superiority, walking toward the main group with the grace of a true lady. "Roleplay, as I have said before, is capable of making a relationship two hundred percent deeper and more intense in terms of mutual pleasure."
"Is that so?" Albedo finally surfaced slightly from her tranquil state, casting a sidelong glance at her rival.
"Oh, yes!" The vampire was now openly radiating self-satisfaction. "When My Lord and I went on our reconnaissance mission, it was so thrilling, so passionate and wonderful... We held hands constantly, I called him 'Father,' he stroked my head, and I spent the night in his arms..." Bloodfallen closed her eyes, then with a perfectly calculated gesture, shot a look at Albedo. "What a pity that certain horned individuals will never get to feel that."
"You... you will die, you little, filthy..." A furious growl, born deep in the demoness's chest, was ready to erupt in full force and shake the walls of Nazarick, but at the last moment, the girl composed herself and coughed into her fist with an air of extreme restraint. "No matter what you say now, you have already lost, Shalltear," the Overseer informed her, diligently returning to her victorious persona. "Momonga-sama called me his beloved and gave me a ring!" The mentioned ring sparkled expressively on her uplifted palm.
"What?" All the polish instantly vanished from the mistress of the first three floors. "How can that be?! That is a Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown! A ring of the Supreme Beings! Where did you steal it?! Confess!"
"As I said, Lord Momonga himself gave it to me. Personally," the demoness said, enunciating each word as she relished her triumph.
"Ah, I see!" the vampire managed. "You must have decided it was an engagement ring! But that is a ring for floor-to-floor teleportation. The Master gave it to you so you could better perform your duties, and you have confused everything! Ha! What else can one expect from someone with such a questionable shelf life?!"
"How dare you, you jar of preservatives?!" the girl flared up, her best feelings insulted.
"So, I guessed correctly!" Shalltear bared her fangs. "You made it all up, engaging in wishful thinking!"
"Nothing of the sort!"
"Aura..." Demiurge turned to the dark elf.
"Don't even ask! I'm not falling for it a second time!" the girl recoiled. "Besides, if they finish each other off, Lord Momonga will be all mine, hehe," she added much more quietly, casting a slightly anticipatory glance at the arguers.
"S-sister is sca-a-ary," Mare shared his observation with Sebas.
"Lady Albedo, Lady Shalltear, please forgive me," the dragonoid butler decided to take the blow himself. "I value your company immensely, however, I must point out that we have much work entrusted to us by the Supreme One, and we cannot simply sit and listen to your... discussion. I ask your forgiveness once more, but could you clarify the reason for this meeting?" Sebas, as always, knew how to choose the right words to set the proper tone. Perhaps the reason was his Creator, who embodied the best traits of a Paladin and, to some extent, passed them to his creation—or perhaps it was simply that he was forced to manage a large staff of women.
"Yes, quite right," Albedo recalled herself and demurely adjusted the folds of her dress before turning to her audience, displaying perfect, proud posture. "As you know, we recently realized we have no way to prove our loyalty to the Master, which forces him to suffer while remaining in a form that does not suit him."
"Our shame," Cocytus rumbled, bowing his head.
"However," the Overseer continued, "while that is indeed true, the Master trusts us completely. Furthermore, it was solely for our sake that he remained in Nazarick!"
"Ah, my wonderful Master is so kind to his servants," Shalltear sang in a tender voice.
"Yes, my," the demoness shot another murderous look at her friend, "beloved Master is generous and magnificent. And he revealed to me that he simply has not had the time to prepare everything necessary for his Rebirth. The transfer to another world and the associated troubles take up too much time! And we are not competent enough to fully assist him. The example of Neuronist's outstanding incompetence is not unique. Though the Master's patience is nearly limitless, it does have an end. We still have not proven that we are worthy of the trust the Master has shown us. But... we must not err in our decisions, lest we be rejected by his infinite mercy."
"But... what should we do?" Cocytus was at a loss.
"It is obvious," Demiurge smiled slightly, adjusting his glasses with a reflexive gesture. "If the surrounding world causes the Master any inconvenience, we shall simply burn it and lay it at His feet!"
"No," Shalltear intervened, her brow furrowed in thought. "I also had the honor of speaking with the Master, and he once brought up this very topic. He does not wish to subjugate or destroy this world because it is too... troublesome. He said we must make it so these inferior beings voluntarily bring him whatever he requires."
"But... how do we do that?" Cocytus released a cloud of cold mist from his spiracles. "How can we make someone bring us tribute without conquering them?"
"Indeed..." Aura looked puzzled as well.
"Truly, how?!" The question caused a flurry of glances among the monsters, but no answer was forthcoming from anyone.
"Hmm," Demiurge finally spoke, having rubbed his chin for a long time. "Gifts of that nature are usually brought to a ruler... But the Master does not wish to conquer the world... Hm... Secret power? Intrigue? The creation of a religious cult?"
"Um... The Master said something about how we will do or give people things that are useless to us, and they in return will give us what we need..." Shalltear supplemented. Unfortunately, at the time of her conversation with the Master, she wasn't quite in a state to meticulously memorize his every word.
"Of course!" Demiurge struck his palm with his fist. "The Master is the True God of Death, and therefore he must be worshiped! Why did I not realize it sooner? He gave me the prisoners from the Theocracy himself so they could tell me everything, including their faith and the principles of how it functions! The Master is truly the Greatest of the Supreme Beings—he has thought everything out two... no, five steps ahead!"
"Splendid, Demiurge," Albedo brightened. "Then by all means, begin these investigations! Present the results to me immediately... unless, of course, I am in the Master's chambers at that moment... mrrr... If necessary, you may use any resources! We must show Lord Momonga how diligently we labor in his Name!"
"Naturally, I shall begin at once!" The demon nodded and hurried to take his leave. The main goal of the meeting was complete; Albedo had told them the Master did not doubt them at all, but that didn't mean they had begun to consider themselves worthy of His mercy—therefore, a mountain of work lay ahead. Moreover, the demon's mighty intellect had already identified a problem that even he did not want to face. And so...
"Now, Aura, I want to hear what you were saying about my beloved Supreme One," Albedo asked in a deceptively soft voice, possessing excellent hearing.
"Yes, something about how you want to lay your petty little hands on my adored Master," the vampire echoed, also not lacking in the hearing department.
"...one must retreat as quickly as possible before it's too late," Demiurge finished his thought, already moving away rapidly. He pulled Cocytus with him; a sturdy warrior could easily take a stray hit should the debate between those three turn into something more than a verbal spat. As for how the backs of Sebas and Mare ended up in front of him, the demon strategist would be hard-pressed to answer. Another Meeting of the Floor Guardians had concluded successfully.
---
"Hmm..." I stared gloomily at the scribbled sheet of paper on the desk and thought gloomy thoughts.
"Are you dissatisfied, Momonga-sama?" Aura whispered confusedly, even lowering her ears slightly in anxiety.
"It will be difficult to organize discreet surveillance with this," I stated, having reviewed the list provided by the elf. Aura and Mare's joint menagerie was good, no doubt about that, but that was the problem. Among the pile of exotic beasts categorized as a "collector-hunter's dream"—or a ranger's, if using Yggdrasil terms—there was almost no one who could pass for the natural fauna of the local region.
"I'm so-o-orry," the girl in the boy's suit lowered her head guiltily, practically burning with shame.
"A... M-mm..." Mare babbled indistinctly, but immediately cut himself off, taking on the full weight of his sister's guilt.
"Yes, Mare, speak up," I encouraged the elf boy. "Do you have an idea?" In principle, the backup plan where he, as a druid, would subjugate animals in the forest and organize a search using them hadn't gone anywhere after Aura's report, but would this idea occur to the younger twin?
"W-well... That is, I can try to tame eagles and other birds so they can c-circle the forest and report anything unusual. Eagles can see far and can detect an enemy's approach in advance... P-please forgive me," the boy faltered completely.
"That is a good thought," I replied to the elf with pleasant surprise. Birds hadn't occurred to me; or rather, they were only spinning in my mind as part of forest surveillance, not long-range aerial reconnaissance.
"R-really?" The druid looked up with timid hope and hesitant joy. Damn, I really need to order him to change his clothes; this permanent embarrassment and shyness gets to even me, despite being undead and knowing full well he's not a girl. Only... how would he take an order to change clothes given to him by his adored creator?
"Yes, it really is a good thought, only..." I drummed my fingers thoughtfully on the tabletop, recalling the few sparse images that depicted the enemy. "Those we need to find are unlikely to look suspicious. A small group of about a dozen people, in mismatched clothes and armor. Considering there is a large city nearby with a branch of the Adventurer's Guild, plenty of similar motley companies could be walking around. Our only hope is that they will be moving in the direction of Nazarick or Carne Village—we have no other leads..."
My speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. Shizu Delta, who was on duty with me today (I wonder if they draw lots or if the turn is decided by a female vote?), immediately went to the exit and, looking outside, reported indifferently:
"The Guardian of the Seventh Floor, Demiurge, has arrived to report."
"Very well, let him in," I ordered, involuntarily remembering another urgent task at the mention of the demon: where could I get a six-year-old child to act as an advisor and consultant on adequacy? Because if I entrust such a task to these people, they'll slaughter his entire village, kill his parents before his eyes, and drag him to me only after they've trained him to "behave appropriately in the presence of a Supreme Being." Moral trauma and psychological disorders guaranteed. And what would be the point of such an advisor? Zero effectiveness. Something was wrong with that last thought, but I didn't have time to figure out what—the demon entered the office.
"I hope I have not interrupted anything important? If so, I most humbly beg you to forgive my intrusiveness," the strategist bowed elegantly upon noticing the twin elves, his glasses flashing.
"No, Demiurge. We were just discussing a topic where Aura and Mare might need your advice." I briefly, yet without omitting important details—such as the need for secrecy while avoiding casualties among the civilian population (this is important! No witnesses, no problem!)—brought Nazarick's chief strategist up to speed.
"What an interesting task..." The Guardian tugged at his chin thoughtfully. "With limited forces, without the personal involvement of the Guardians or Nazarick's most valuable representatives, on unfamiliar territory, to identify a small group of saboteurs with a blurred search radius that can be briefly described as 'the surroundings of E-Rantel'—and all this without having any idea from which direction to expect the enemy's appearance..."
"Well said," I acknowledged the lad's ability to succinctly describe the excess of management's demands.
"I thank you, Momonga-sama!" The demon offered a respectful bow. "Have no doubt, I shall provide all possible assistance to Aura and Mare. I already have a few ideas!"
"W-we wanted to use birds for reconnaissance," the boy in the skirt spoke up timidly, but with visible interest—was he afraid his idea would be discarded now that a much more experienced strategist had appeared?
"Druidic powers, certainly!" The demon caught the thought immediately. "Your and Aura's combined abilities in animal management will provide a vast spectrum of possibilities. Now I have three more ideas for how the Master's wish can be brought to life!"
"Really?" The elf girl blinked her mismatched eyes in surprise. "I was racking my brain all night!"
"That is a-amazing," Mare echoed his sister's astonishment.
"But of course," Demiurge adjusted his glasses with a satisfied smile. "After all, I am the chief strategist and tactician of Nazarick! I know forty-six techniques for reducing a supposedly infinite series of randomly generated probabilities to a manageable set of variables! However, my mind undeniably bears no comparison to the wisdom of the Greatest of the Supreme Beings! For the practical application of these techniques is still exceedingly difficult for one such as I, yet you, Lord Momonga, managed to calculate the appearance and approximate composition of this squad based on a single effect of an external observation attempt during the destruction of the Sunlight Scripture. I can only dream of one day reaching such heights!" Another bow was made in my direction, but I felt like I had just been flushed down a toilet...
"E-e-eh..." The young elves voiced my own thought in unison, though they expressed it with surprising decency.
"And why have you come, Demiurge-san?"
The android maid was clearly the only one who couldn't care less about his grand strategic capabilities. She had approached the desk like the guest's silent shadow and remained there until her curiosity finally got the better of her. Not that she had much reason for concern—if I remembered correctly, she had a literal supercomputer for a brain.
"Ah, yes, I completely lost myself. Please forgive my carelessness." The demon adjusted his glasses again, this time managing to make the gesture look bashful. "Lord Momonga,"—an official-looking folder filled with papers appeared as if by magic—"as you commanded, I took it upon myself to extract information from your captives. Following your instructions, I decided to start with the structure of the Slane Theocracy and its religious dogma, and I immediately found something very interesting!"
"Interesting enough that you decided to report before the full results were in, Demiurge?"
"Yes, My Lord. If you will..." The Guardian opened the folder and placed it on the desk before me.
Well now. Judging by the thickness of the stack of papers inside, all covered in cramped handwriting, there was significantly more data here than Albedo had ever brought.
"The Theocracy is a democratic,"—the demon grimaced at the word—"religious state, ruled by the so-called Cardinals' Council. Formally, it is divided into six regions, each ruled by a Sect that exalts one of their Six Great Gods. However, the other gods are also recognized, and when necessary, these 'disparate' sects conduct joint operations with surprising speed. According to our guest's data, Observation Magic is the prerogative of the Windflower Scripture, which, as I mentioned previously, formally has no dealings with the worshippers of the God of Life and his Sunlight Scripture."
"I see, but what is so interesting about that? Many of the world's powerful have their own arrangements. Even when their subjects are firmly convinced their rulers are ready to tear each other's throats out."
"Forgive my presumption, Master. In my pride, I did not stop to think that such things would be obvious to Your Wisdom," Demiurge said, bowing his head.
"Do not apologize. You acted correctly. I knew this by virtue of my experience, but I do not claim omniscience." I stole a glance at the precious notebook I now kept constantly at hand and found the relevant line: If I hire someone as an advisor, I will listen to their advice, for that is why I hired them. "Yes, quite right. So, in the future, continue to inform me of everything I need to know, without assuming that certain things are 'obvious' to me. Now, continue."
"As you wish, My Lord! As I have learned, there is a certain Treasury of the Legacy of the Six Gods in the Theocracy. Apparently, it contains artifacts endowed with great power. I cannot say for certain how much. That crystal containing the pathetic Dominion Authority was also in said Treasury and was considered quite valuable, even if it did not bear the title of 'legacy.' This treasury is guarded by the Black Scripture. It is they who temporarily transfer items from there to other units at the cardinals' discretion. And it is very noteworthy whom these inferior beings worship."
"And who would that be?"
"Surshana—the strongest of the Six Great Gods. 'And He appeared as a skeleton of towering height, clad in Black, and the Staff of the Great shined in His hand, and there was no salvation from him for beast, nor bird, nor man, nor demi-human, for He is Death,'" the demon declaimed, clearly quoting a text. "Therefore, I must ask: had you already visited these lands six centuries ago, My Lord?" He looked positively radiant.
"Ooh!" breathed the elves—mostly Aura—rewarding me with the stunned gazes of people about to hear a joyous, if unexpected, revelation.
"No," I said, shamelessly crushing their expectations over my knee, "but the description is quite curious."
Yes, very curious. If this "God" was a player, he was clearly of the same race as Momonga. Or something similar; after all, the number of evolutionary paths from a simple skeleton mage to an Overlord in the game was staggering, especially considering multiclassing. In any case, his level must have been at least seventy, at most a hundred, like mine. But the question remained: what became of him? Did he wander off into research and get lost? Was he finished off by his own kind because he finally lost his mind to undeath? Did he commit suicide, realizing he was about to lose his humanity entirely? Or is there still a sorcerer somewhere in the world, no less powerful than myself, who has been worshipped as a god for six centuries, with a powerful human state and god-knows-how-many resources at his disposal? Honestly, I didn't know which option was worse.
"And what happened to him?"
"According to local legends, he was killed by certain 'Eight Greed Kings' about five centuries ago. More precisely, eight Kings united to destroy the powerful God."
So... fine. If they were roughly the same level, they could have ambushed, cornered, and killed him. I didn't know if player resurrection existed here, but if it did, it should work on game principles—which meant eating XP, anywhere from a tenth of a level up to the cost of the last five levels at once, depending on how you kicked the bucket and how you were brought back. If you were just stabbed and then quickly raised with a high-level cast, you'd lose the minimum; but if your body was tossed into a volcano and you had to respawn via the game interface, you'd better be ready to pay up. Yeah, Momonga's early career must have been one interesting gaming life. By the way, resurrection through the game interface shouldn't work here due to the lack of said interface, meaning even if I had the theoretical ability to respawn after death, I would still need someone to use a Wand of Resurrection on me. Mental note: distribute Wands of Resurrection to all the Guardians. Regardless, I'm getting distracted. In any case, if that lich is truly dead, all the better for me; I don't need the competition.
"And the other five?"
"The legends on that matter are very contradictory, but most likely they were also destroyed by the Kings, or they died of old age, as all, or most of them, belonged to the human race."
"How did you learn this?"
"There is another very interesting point here. The fact is that in the Theocracy, there are still several dynasties supposedly descending directly from these very Gods; their representatives are even called 'God-kin.' Indirectly, the truth of this claim is confirmed by the fact that all members of these dynasties, according to our guest's assurances, are far stronger than ordinary humans, and all are tightly linked to the Scriptures. Information on the 'God-kin' known to Nigun and his men is summarized in a table on page seven. Unfortunately, besides general information and rumors, little is reflected there—our informant did not have the necessary access, though he had met some of them on several occasions."
"Very well..." Could these be our unknown mind-controllists? "And what happened to the Eight Greed Kings?"
"Supposedly, the Kings slaughtered each other, unable to divide the power over this world and its riches. No one knows for sure. The time of their reign was marked by a series of great wars that led to the fall, and often the complete destruction, of many non-human races, but the same fate befell the state under their control. For this reason, some say they were destroyed by the Evil Deities, or Demon Gods, who appeared some time after the death of the Greed Kings and sowed chaos and destruction throughout the land for approximately three hundred years."
"Let me guess: they were eventually killed too?"
"Correct, My Lord. Approximately two hundred years ago, the Thirteen Heroes undertook their crusade and destroyed the Gods. Though, according to our guest from the Sunlight Scripture, he heard that the Thirteen Heroes did not destroy all the Evil Deities; some were only defeated and sealed."
"And what became of these thirteen?"
"Nothing. They returned to their countries as heroes. Most have already died of old age," the demon replied.
"A rather vivid example, don't you find?"
"Master?" Demiurge didn't understand.
"Later. Let me read first." I leaned over the folder and delved into the document. "In the meantime, you may sit and ask Shizu to bring you a snack." Noticing that the Guardians had frozen in their places with disciplined spiritual fervor, greedily watching me read, I caught myself.
"You are too kind, Supreme One," Nazarick's chief strategist bowed, the polite smile never leaving his face. The elves remained silent, overwhelmed by shyness or perhaps the weight of the information.
"Shizu, organize something for them and make sure Aura and Mare eat," I redirected the command; otherwise, they really would just stand over my soul. "If they resist, call Yuri and Sebas."
"As you command, Lord Momonga," the android responded with discipline and headed for the door.
Now then, the composition of the Scriptures...
The names and titles appearing in the report's text mostly meant nothing to me, but the overall picture of other players appearing in this world was coming together. There were between three and five waves of transfer in total, including our own. The first were definitely the Six Gods; they were the ones who began implementing Tier Magic instead of the previously existing "Wild Magic," the nature of which our captives, alas, could say nothing about. These guys didn't meddle much in big politics and generally lived quite peacefully with everyone around them, despite their leader being a lich. Also, based on indirect data, only Surshana among them was a level one-hundred; the others were of a lower level. Or they were significantly outmatched in terms of equipment—that was also possible. Most likely, this group was either a young guild where one high-level player carries several low-level ones, or just a random group where lower-ranked players simply asked a lich to help with some content and ended up in the transfer together. However, the former seemed more likely to me—random people wouldn't have stuck together after realizing their power; they would have either parted ways like ships at sea or turned on each other. If the Six Gods did quarrel, it never left the privacy of closed offices, or it would have remained somehow in the memories of the initiated cults. Examples from the ancient Greeks, Norse, and even Japanese show how much pagan religions love the theme of enmity between members of a pantheon, yet here, those features were somehow absent... Until the appearance of the next group.
The second were the Eight Greed Kings, and these were truly arrogant and insecure, strongly resembling a group of ideological gankers from WoW, or PKers in Yggdrasil terms. No sooner had they arrived in the world than they immediately started steamrolling the previous group, despite the fact that the distance from the Slane Theocracy, where the first six settled, to Eryuentiu—the flying castle of the Greed Kings—is quite substantial. The castle, by the way, was clearly a guild base with which they had transferred into this world, and it still existed today, as did the city that grew beneath it during the reign of the eight. This was very interesting information, as was the fact that the castle was currently held by one of the surviving True Dragon Lords, but I'm getting distracted. As soon as these young and bold types slaughtered their predecessors, they immediately rushed into new adventures—namely, fighting everything and everyone, except for the rather pathetic human enclaves of that time. Notably, these guys never thought to visit the lands of the Theocracy and take the legacy from the descendants of the Six Gods, and in other respects, they behaved quite... strangely, in my opinion. It felt as if the only tactic they knew was to pick a direction and go "explore a new location," "clearing" all hostile "mobs" in the process. Given that the world was ruled by non-human species then, and the Greed Kings themselves were human, entire cities and countries could be marked as "hostile mobs." And they weren't just "could be"—they regularly were! According to legend, these eight habitually used the trick of surrounding a settlement and then systematically clearing it, without dividing the inhabitants by gender, age, or social status, after which they would business-like collect everything of value and move on as if nothing had happened. Any kind of meaningful strategy, I don't know... development?... was nowhere to be seen in their actions until they created their own state on the cleared lands. All they did was wander the world, butchering anyone they didn't like, collecting "loot" from them, and moving on. Why, if the captives' testimonies—or rather, the legends they heard about those times—were to be believed, it was standard practice for these individuals to enter the home of a successful merchant on their own or allied territory and brazenly rob him, cleaning out all chests and hiding places. Simply because he had money and the "Kings" wanted to take it. And they ended in a corresponding manner—as soon as the objects for cooperative farming were exhausted, individual farming began, with a shade of cannibalism. The guys couldn't peacefully divide their jointly acquired property... Or maybe they could, but then someone decided that simple luxury and a comfortable life weren't enough for happiness; one absolutely needed the high of stomping on one's own kind. The locals didn't satisfy that need because they were literally dust underfoot; they needed someone "honor drops from," to use WoW terms. In short, one way or another, without holding power for even half a century, the extra-worldly migrants staged a massive showdown with each other, in the process turning the entire center of the continent into a lifeless desert. Only the capital and the wild periphery survived, with a negligibly small population, half-dead monsters in the forests and swamps, and a bare minimum of administration. Essentially, all current human kingdoms later emerged from this periphery, and now only the Southern Desert lies in the center of the continent, with the city of Eryuentiu, where life flickers thanks to the legacy left by the former owners.
As for the Demon Gods, these could have been Yggdrasil players of various dark races who simply lost their minds under the influence of their bodies (one of them was definitely an insectoid), or they could have been masterless NPCs who formerly served the Greed Kings or even the Six Gods. Whatever the case, after the entertainment of the previous eight, the world needed another three hundred years to recover enough to coherently cooperate against this threat. They gathered the most capable and martial folk from all over, begged the Dragon Lord settled in Eryuentiu for a few artifacts belonging to the Kings, and ganged up on the demons one by one. Fortunately, these little demons didn't suffer from sophistication of mind—at all—and all interested parties had long since learned to track their linear migrations and get out of the way in time. The Heroes, by the way, were not thirteen, but significantly more; human lands simply preferred to ignore the existence of the very non-human members of the party.
And so, just as the world was starting to breathe a sigh of relief after all this trash and fire, and human states were becoming strong and mature enough to start seriously butting heads over territory and resources, Nazarick is transferred into this world... It's quite possible other transfers existed, but they left no mark on history. And now Nazarick... This... I don't know, but my first thought is that someone is really playing social experiments on a single world.
I closed the folder.
"So..." My voice made all three Guardians jump up from the sofa at once. "At least two sufficiently powerful groups from Yggdrasil ended up in this world before us, but they all perished. Whether through stupidity or... great stupidity—the details vary. Yet the local 'Heroes,' who were inferior to them in everything and couldn't even potentially reach the same power, lived their lives peacefully in honor and prosperity, and some even live now, if the information about this,"—I glanced at the relevant page—"Rigrit Bers Caurau is to be believed. Most telling... However, Demiurge, I presume you did not come to me only to provide a brief history lesson?"
"You are correct, Momonga-sama." The demon in the orange suit stepped closer. "Your physical appearance perfectly matches the description of the Theocracy's God of Death. Should you appear to them in your majesty, that country will bow before you, providing its resources and all possible knowledge. Naturally, there may be problems and dissenters, but the forces of Nazarick are more than enough to crush any protests or dissatisfaction in minimal time."
"Hm..." The demon was offering a very valuable idea. With minimum expenditure, I could occupy a huge territory, gain access to the knowledge and resources of what I understood was one of the strongest human countries in the world, and even lay hands on the "legacy" of one of my predecessors' groups. It sounded wonderful. Too wonderful. And rational. Excessively so. And we had already agreed that all impulses of the lich essence must be stifled. To be safe. Besides... I glanced at the notebook again. Ugly mutants and uncontrollable maniacs will have their place in my Legions of Terror. However, before assigning them secret operations requiring stealth and tact, I will consider whether there are other candidates who attract much less attention. I suppose in the business of "returning as a God," the tact should be considerable, even if it is a God of Death. Especially if it is a God of Death. And I know my servants. First comes VAAAAGH and Blood for the Blood God, and then they'll be scratching their heads wondering where all the population went... so screw that. But telling Demiurge something like "you are sick maniacs I wouldn't trust to guard a chicken coop because not only would the chickens be finished, you'd burn the whole village down" would be wrong. With that attitude, he'd never progress past this level. He might even start wondering, "Why do I need a boss like this?" Oh! I've got it! Right, make the face sterner... ahem... flare with negative emotions.
"Are you suggesting I hide behind someone else's mask? To claim someone else's achievements like some pathetic, incompetent blowhard? Furthermore, to hide behind the guise of a failure who couldn't even hold power for a hundred years? Do you truly hold such a low opinion of me?"
"Forgive me, Master!" The demon fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. "I never dared to underestimate your power and majesty even in my thoughts! Only an attempt to gain more while exerting less effort led me!"
"Only that justifies you. That, and a lack of experience." I "subdued my anger." "Well, it will come with time. But since you've taken up the divine theme, think about this... There were outsiders here before us. But someone was able to kill them... and then kill their killers, and then again. No matter how it is framed or what the local churches teach—we only have one source so far, and even then... A believer's words regarding the object of their worship should at least be divided by four. And now we have ended up here. Think. Imagine the possibilities, analyze the situation. And report to me again in three days. After that, focus on drafting methodological handbooks on magic."
"I thank you for your mercy and a grain of your wisdom, My Lord," Demiurge replied, without lifting his head from the floor. "I shall begin immediately."
"Go." A wave of the hand, and the demon, rising to his feet, almost ran out of the office. Well, perhaps I overdid it; frankly, his idea wasn't half bad. But the Theocracy does not inspire trust in me. States are judged by their representatives. I've seen Gazef Stronoff and I've seen Nigun Grid Luin. And of those two, I prefer the former.
"Am-m... E..." Mare, attempting to say something, shrank and hid behind his sister. Looking at the twins, I tried to sigh and once again confirmed that it was impossible.
"Forgive me for being distracted." I pushed the demon's report folder aside. "I hope you ate well?" I glanced at Shizu near the now completely clean table by the sofa, although she had brought something there while I was reading.
"Yes, it was very delicious! Thank you, Momonga-sama, for the opportunity to eat in your presence!" Aura responded cheerfully, but with a carefully hidden trace of wariness, clearly caused by the reasons for Demiurge's retreat.
"Very well, let us continue the discussion. Have any new thoughts occurred to you?"