While a one-sided brawl—or rather, an outright massacre—was unfolding in the back alleys of the royal capital...

In a lavish chamber within the royal palace—the room of Princess Renner—two figures sat face-to-face.

Despite it being daytime, the heavy curtains had been drawn, plunging the room into darkness. Only the soft glow of a magical lamp on the desk lit their conversation. There, Renner sat calmly, facing the "demon" she had summoned.

"Well done. You've successfully drawn him out."

"Thank you for the praise."

The demon wore an unusual outfit.

While it resembled a butler's formal tailcoat commonly worn by royal attendants, the coloring was far from typical.

A muted crimson—not quite red, not quite pink—adorned with vertical white stripes, made the ensemble strikingly alien.

His appearance was even more bizarre: upright black hair styled precisely, frameless round glasses pressed against his face, pointed ears even sharper than those of an elf, and angular, elongated facial features that gave off a constant air of sharpness.

But even stranger than all that was the tail—clicking faintly against the chair as it swayed behind him.

It wasn't a living tail, but a mechanical, segmented appendage resembling overlapping metal shells.

One glance made it obvious that the man before her was not human—or perhaps not even a proper living being.

Renner recalled the first time this demon had come to meet her.

He had radiated politeness—overwhelmingly so. Yet beneath the courteous manner lurked a presence that demanded submission. Even so, his arrival had thrilled her.

After all, despite her earlier declaration to Monkyspanner that she would raise her own value, she hadn't achieved much.

At best, she had gathered minor intelligence about the kingdom and the world, but every time she called for Monkyspanner, he'd mock her, saying he already had better sources.

She had even considered offering up the entire kingdom as a bargaining chip. But the answer had always been the same: unnecessary.

And she understood why. If they had any desire for a kingdom, they would've built one themselves—150 years ago, no less.

If they wanted something, they would simply take it. Royalty, nobility, commoners, criminals—anyone and everyone under the kingdom's banner—they were already within their grasp.

That was why the demon's arrival had been a welcomed development.

To make a proper deal, one must stand as an equal.

Her goal was to carefully maneuver between the powers behind this demon and Dragon's Dream, and in doing so, achieve her aims.

But—

This was only her third meeting with the demon, and already, Renner felt mentally exhausted.

She was well aware that her intelligence far exceeded the average person's. But compared to these otherworldly monsters beyond reason and imagination, she began to see the limits of her own intellect.

Take this demon for example—where her only weapon was her mind, he seemed capable of producing any number of unimaginable tools and solutions without breaking a sweat.

"The way you lured him into accepting the request without raising suspicion was admirable," the demon continued.

"However... whether he will perform as expected remains uncertain."

"That depends on his own abilities, doesn't it? I hear the Eight Fingers are quite formidable. Even someone like Sir Gazef, supposedly the strongest warrior in the kingdom, wouldn't take them lightly."

"Hmm... Is that so."

The demon seemed to ponder for a moment.

But then, he narrowed his eyes, directing a sharp gaze at Renner.

"Still... while I commend your cooperative attitude…"

"You are hiding something, aren't you?"

His gaze pierced through the lenses of his glasses, cutting into her like a blade.

The earlier friendliness had vanished. In its place, a sharp, suffocating pressure pressed down on her.

Despite being a princess, Renner was physically weaker than even a common soldier—she could feel her breath catch in her throat.

But she wasn't without recourse. She had saved one card for just such a moment. A card she hadn't revealed until now.

"It's nothing serious… only… there are things I simply cannot speak of so easily. I was merely trying to avoid those."

"Hmm? Cannot speak of...?"

His gaze sharpened even further.

The demon was suspicious. She could feel it in the air—as if he believed she might be deceiving him.

Before he could press further, Renner extended her hand. Upon her slender, pale finger was a ring she always kept close. Even when forced to part from it for any reason, she ensured it remained nearby. No—she had to.

"Before I explain, would you take a look at this?"

"What is it?"

A plain golden ring.

Though unadorned, the ring was a powerful magic item.

This was one of the few trump cards Renner possessed. Depending on how it was used, it could inspire trust—or hostility. In this case, she had judged it best to show it.

"This was given to me by that man. He said it would protect me, but I believe it also has a function that prevents me from leaking information."

As she held up the plain golden ring on her finger, she explained.

There was something undeniably suspicious about the ring. Even the kingdom's top mages had been unable to identify it. She had even asked the magic caster of Blue Rose, her "friend" Lakyus, but even she couldn't decipher the enchantments.

According to Lakyus, the ring could very well be a legendary artifact. And yet Monkyspanner had handed it over to Renner without a second thought—without hesitation, without even a trace of regret.

Renner had continuously felt its effects since that day. Whenever thoughts about them crept into her mind—or any intentions of digging into their identity—something in her mind would shift.

As if her thoughts had been forcibly diverted. As if her own thinking had been overwritten by an external force.

She had learned to stop probing deeper.

The feeling of unease that came when she tried was too great. Presenting the ring now would serve as both an excuse and a way to test whether this demon might understand more about it.

"Hooh..."

The demon stroked his long, narrow chin with clear interest. The light reflecting off his semi-transparent white glasses glinted sharply. Whether in this world or the next, a magic item in the possession of the Players would certainly be of interest.

"A magical item that prevents information from being disclosed, is it...? I do have a few guesses. May I examine it more closely?"

"Should I hand it over?"

"Ho, so it can be removed?"

"Yes. Here you go."

Renner carefully slipped the ring from her delicate finger.

As the gold band slid off, she felt a wave of fatigue and weakness wash over her—but she placed the ring on her palm and extended it to him.

The demon—Demiurge—accepted the simple gold ring, studying it closely, the glow in his glasses intensifying.

At a glance, it appeared to be nothing more than an undecorated ring. But Demiurge's keen vision detected the hidden magical currents flowing through it.

It was cloaked in concealment magic—hard to perceive with normal means. But for Demiurge, such a veil might as well not exist.

"Greater Appraisal..." he whispered.

A magic circle glowed faintly at his fingertips and began to envelop the ring—only to suddenly fizzle out with a soft pop and vanish.

Surprised, Demiurge let go of the ring and stepped back.

"What happened?"

"Ah, it's nothing serious... But I must say, this is an extraordinary item. Truly, I'm impressed."

There had been a backlash of mana—but it hadn't harmed him. Clearly, the ring's purpose wasn't defense. No, what amazed him wasn't just its power, but its intricate craftsmanship.

And for Demiurge—a being who rarely praised anything—to admit admiration was no small thing.

The only ones Demiurge ever truly praised were the Supreme Being Ainz Ooal Gown, the other Floor Guardians of equal rank, and the rare individuals in Nazarick who had achieved extraordinary results. Outside of those cases, when he used the words "highly commendable," it often carried an entirely different nuance.

But this time... he could not help but express genuine admiration.

Though he had not shared the specifics with Princess Renner, in the short time he held the ring, Demiurge had already conducted a broad analysis of it.

No—more accurately, the ring itself had offered up its secrets. It made no effort to hide its nature. In fact, it was as though it was designed to warn anyone with the power to analyze it.

"Touch this—and the wearer will be destroyed."

Not the one who investigates it—but the wearer. A complex, high-tier magical sequence had been woven into the ring. It would offer some protection… but if pushed further, the magic would obliterate the wearer without mercy.

"Simply extraordinary. I cannot help but be impressed."

"To enchant such potent spells—there may not be a single being in Nazarick capable of this. Not even among the Forty Supreme Beings who no longer remain. Lord Ainz, though a master of high-tier magic, possesses no affinity for enchantment spells."

And this magic... it was truly Demiurge's style.

To bind the wearer into such a cunning trap, one so inescapably cruel—it was almost enough to inspire respect.

Even setting aside the basic effects like Lesser Resistance, Status Sustain, Barrier, and Healing, what lay beneath was truly awe-inspiring. Exquisite. Sublime.

The first core spell he identified was Peer Link—a magic that perfectly synchronized the ring with its wearer, ensuring the magic flowed without external interference. Next was Geas—a spell that imposed strict conditions upon the wearer. And when violated, Oath would trigger, forcibly administering a punishment.

These three spells alone were integrated with such seamless artistry that even Demiurge, a master of magical design, found himself trembling in admiration.

But what came next—

"Vitality Depletion, followed by Resist Cancel, Self-Destruct, then Mental Destruction, Soul Berserk, and Curse Stigma…"

"To first drain the life force, nullify any resistance, then shatter the body into pieces to make resurrection nearly impossible… and if that weren't enough—tear apart the mind, shatter the soul, and finally curse it to the point where, even in revival, they return only as a wraith… what a terrifyingly beautiful combination."

Even Demiurge, had he fallen victim to such a curse unawares, would have sustained serious damage.

But for a mere human—a fragile, untrained girl like Renner—being subjected to this would mean certain annihilation.

Worse still, due to the Peer Link, the magic wasn't recognized as coming from the item, but from the wearer's own body. In other words, resistance was impossible from the moment the ring was worn.

And the trigger conditions were as malicious as the magic itself.

Should the wearer attempt to leak information, or if their mind became unstable, or the ring forcibly removed—the spell would activate immediately and utterly destroy them.

It was... perfection.

"Such flawless safeguards…" Demiurge was genuinely moved.

A magic item capable of total control. If the person who crafted this ring existed within Dragon's Dream, then he must be brought into Nazarick—no matter the cost. Or at the very least, Demiurge needed to uncover the method of its creation.

And then… he licked his lips.

At that moment, he felt a twinge of temptation—a wicked urge to activate the curse himself, just to see it unfold.

This ring was an artistic fusion of malice and sorcery.

To observe what happened when its full power was unleashed… to witness the collapse of a human soul under such a masterpiece of torment…

"Such craftsmanship… this is art."

"If I could just once see this curse in action…"

But then—

"Tch… what a shame."

Demiurge clicked his tongue with genuine regret.

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