"Huh?"

"No, it's nothing at all."

Demiurge had let his true thoughts slip out unintentionally, and he quietly clicked his tongue to himself.

Enjoying his personal pleasures was one thing—but more important than that were the orders of his supreme master, Ainz Ooal Gown. This human was a valuable asset, not someone he could carelessly "dispose of" for amusement.

But precisely because of that… it was all the more frustrating. Demiurge had long harbored a desire—to witness those arrogant humans, so self-confident in their abilities, reduced to utter ruin. He couldn't help but let a trace of regret flicker across his expression, subtle enough that Renner didn't notice.

"In any case, I understand the situation now. You're in a state where you 'cannot speak, cannot react, and cannot have information extracted through any external means.'"

"Oh my. Is the restriction really that severe?"

"It appears someone truly doesn't want secrets leaking. With constraints like these, even reacting could trigger a severe backlash. I assume you've already felt that?"

Renner nodded.

Indeed, ever since the demon—Demiurge—had entered the room, even the mere thought of discussing Monkyspanner had triggered a sharp pressure in her head.

A dreadful certainty had overtaken her—that if she spoke carelessly, something far worse than death would befall her.

Even attempting to mention him was forcibly suppressed. Her reason urged her to speak, but instinct—no, her subconscious—screamed at her to remain silent. Even during this brief test, Renner had felt her sanity eroding.

She had thought it merely a warning… but now realized this ring was far more terrifying. She finally understood just how dangerous this tightrope act she'd been playing truly was.

"Perhaps... I made a mistake."

Both factions possessed powers far beyond what she had anticipated. Her attempt to leverage both sides in hopes of increasing her worth may have been nothing more than a grand self-destruction.

"Still, with such a fiercely guarded secret... I can't help but wonder what it could be... No—never mind. Don't even try to think about it. You're a useful human to us. It would be a waste for you to die meaninglessly."

"...Thank you for your consideration."

Demiurge smiled as he spoke. The situation had deviated from expectations—but it wasn't something he hadn't accounted for.

He had already predicted that his opponent would be tight-lipped with information. He had just underestimated the level of secrecy.

He had never placed great expectations on Renner to begin with. At most, she was a fishing hook meant to bait out more valuable targets.

The fact that she seemed to know a bit more had only prompted him to probe further. But from the start, he had no intention of harming her.

As per his master's command, any intelligent being deemed useful to Nazarick would be promised a reward.

And if Renner had known something truly important, they would never have left her alone with such a self-destruct enchantment.

Upon further thought… wasn't she perhaps just a decoy?

Back when he first approached her, Demiurge hadn't known she was carrying such a safeguard.

If she hadn't cooperated with them and instead tried to inform the enemy faction of his existence, things could have gone disastrously.

But she had cooperated—and served her role well. That alone placed her within the category of "ally."

"Yes, your inability to speak is justified. I acknowledge it—your life still holds value. And... this recent plan of yours was quite excellent. I'll be sure to report it favorably to him."

"Thank you…"

Renner lowered her head, doing her best to hide a face that had gone deathly pale.

Now that she knew the true nature of the ring, she realized just how precariously she'd been dancing—no, gambling with her own life and the lives of those around her.

She had originally intended to weigh both sides, selling information to whichever faction offered the better deal to raise her worth. But now she understood: that was impossible.

She had always thought her intelligence allowed her to control any situation. But reality had proven otherwise.

Both sides possessed powers far beyond what she had imagined. The demon before her, and even more so—the allies of Monkyspanner who created this ring.

She had no more choices.

"I only just realized it… but I've made a monumental mistake. I was too greedy. Too arrogant."

It was never a balancing act.

She had believed herself to be walking a tightrope, cleverly weighing both sides—but in truth, she'd merely been dangling from that rope, desperately clinging on, unaware of the fall that awaited her.

A deep sense of defeat washed over Renner. Without realizing it, she had shackled herself, set her own downfall in motion.

She had staked her life—but her life meant less than a game piece in this grand conflict. As the demon had said, she was merely someone with "some value left."

Any dream of haggling over her worth had long since vanished. Now, the only thing she could do was cling to these beings and hope they might at least spare her—and Climb's—lives.

But it was too late to turn back. Whether knowingly or not, she had made her choice.

And now… all she could do was trust them.

Unable to share even the scraps of knowledge she possessed, Renner prayed silently—that their mission would succeed, and that Monkyspanner and his allies would be eliminated.

Whether Demiurge knew her thoughts or not, he merely stood there with a smile on his face.

Yes, she would be rewarded… if and only if his master deemed it so. Until then, her worth was no more than that of a disposable servant.

And besides—there were more pressing matters now.

"The seeds have been planted."

"Now… let's see what this Monkyspanner is truly capable of."

The familiar lent to Demiurge by Lord Ainz for reconnaissance purposes was currently tracking Monkyspanner.

This familiar was specialized in stealth—so much so that even Demiurge himself might not have detected its presence had he not been informed in advance. Its concealment abilities were that advanced.

From this point forward, the familiar would meticulously record and transmit every detail about Monkyspanner: his combat style, abilities, magical skills, equipment, and more.

All preparations had been completed for thoroughly assessing the opponent's capabilities.

All that remained was to analyze those capabilities and determine a suitable response.

The ultimate decision would be left to Lord Ainz. Whether it ended in negotiations, recruitment, subjugation, or even extermination—whatever conclusion Lord Ainz reached, Demiurge eagerly anticipated what this grand game board would reveal next.

But then, behind his ever-present smile and glinting lenses, a subtle twitch crossed Demiurge's brow.

The familiar had begun transmitting real-time data to his mind—even as he continued conversing with Princess Renner. And what it was showing him…

"Troubling."

Demiurge adjusted his evaluation of Renner's plan downward.

Hadn't she said she was giving Monkyspanner a mission far beyond what an ordinary mercenary could handle, to test his limits?

And yet, what Demiurge was witnessing had nothing to do with a "test."

Through the familiar's vision, Demiurge saw nothing short of hell incarnate—no, worse: a scene from Asura's battlefield.

Fists flew.

So fast they were almost imperceptible—each strike accompanied by the sound of something breaking, snapping, or shattering. Bones? Stone? Steel? It was hard to tell.

With every gut-wrenching crack, there were screams. Shrieks. Wailing. Crying.

"ORA ORA ORA ORA! You're all weaklings! Even your big guys are bawling like babies! Come on, show me some guts!"

Monkyspanner howled as he laid waste to the attackers.

At first, a few thugs had charged him. Then dozens more poured out from deeper within the building, all armed and ready for blood. These were hardened criminals, men from the underworld—but they may as well have been made of paper.

With every swing of his fists, everything around him shattered. Flesh, stone, steel—none were spared.

Weapons, armor, tables, shields—anything used to block his blows was pulverized. If you were holding it, you'd lose not just the item, but your fingers with it.

"Gyaaah!"

"M-Monster!"

Swords, spears, chains, scythes—even the occasional crossbow bolt—all were batted away or crushed with his bare fists. Steel broke apart like stale bread. How were you supposed to fight something like that?

Before they could even turn and flee, his fists had already reached them. His strikes were so fast and frequent it looked like dozens of him were attacking all at once.

Those still conscious had tears welling in their eyes—some from pain, others from terror.

And those were the lucky ones.

One man had all four limbs twisted at impossible angles. Another's head had been twisted just past 90 degrees, now gagging and clutching at his throat.

Another had his jaw torn clean open—like a grotesque dental procedure gone wrong, half his teeth knocked out along with it.

One poor soul had his back bent inward, convulsing on the floor like a broken marionette.

Monkyspanner hadn't killed anyone. Technically.

But looking at those mangled bodies, Demiurge wondered if killing them outright might have been more merciful.

Eventually, someone from the Eight Fingers showed up and hastily escorted Monkyspanner away. The test was over.

But from this… it was impossible to gauge his limits.

Those men had barely reached level 10—weaklings. No matter how brutal Monkyspanner's display was, it meant nothing against such fodder. Demiurge himself could've ended that brawl in under ten seconds.

"This isn't enough to see his ceiling. I'll need to try something else…"

He quietly faded from Renner's view, thoughts swirling.

To truly measure this savage, a better trial would be needed.

One that wouldn't break so easily.

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