Rewind the clock slightly—elsewhere within the Royal Capital.

A few dozen minutes before Monkyspanner's crisis, at the very moment Momon and Yaldabaoth had faced each other in the square, both removed their masks.

The guise of demon and adventurer was cast aside, and they once again assumed their true roles: master of Nazarick, and his servant.

Ainz followed Yaldabaoth—Demiurge—into a certain manor. Inside the room stood a small table, two chairs, and Mare.

"Ainz-sama! Please, have a seat!"

"Mm. Thank you, Mare. Your consideration is appreciated."

"Hehehe, it's nothing!"

Ainz gave a faint smile to the boy's innocent grin. His helmet had already been removed, revealing the bared skull beneath; though expressionless, he allowed his posture to relax ever so slightly.

"First of all… this room is secure, yes, Demiurge?"

"Please be at ease, my lord. None can eavesdrop on what is spoken here."

"I see. Then… ah, one thing first. Cease inflicting needless harm on the humans. As with Carne Village and E-Rantel, rescuing those in peril earns us far more goodwill, and our reputation benefits greatly from such precedents."

"By your command. Indeed, I have already dispatched such orders. However… it seems halting the damage may be difficult. My demons are being intercepted by powerful familiars."

"I see. That would be… him, then?"

"Yes."

Demiurge, mask removed, pushed his spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose, a faint crease between his brows.

"A formidable one. It seems certain he bears some connection to Yggdrasil."

"He is no Player. That much, I confirmed personally."

"If you have judged so, Ainz-sama, then so it must be. Still… the strength he displayed is considerable. At minimum, he rivals a Guardian of a Domain. At worst… he may well be comparable to a Floor Guardian, or beyond."

"Oh? And what leads you to that conclusion?"

"For the same reason as myself, my lord: he did not once rely on equipment."

For any combatant, wielding arms was stronger than going barehanded—this was an immutable truth.

In Yggdrasil, among level 100 players, while stats, classes, and skills mattered, what decided superiority above all was equipment. Proper arms and armor could multiply one's strength many times over—sometimes by dozens of times.

The same logic held here. Between an unarmed man and a man with a blade, the latter had the advantage. And if that man were already strong? Then arming him with weapons and armor would only elevate him further. Ainz knew this principle better than most.

"So… neither of you resorted to equipment. In that case, do you intend to face him again—this time armed?"

"No, my lord. Any further trials would be meaningless. Beyond this point, continuing would risk revealing too much of ourselves."

"Indeed…"

Troops, summoned demons—those could be explained away. But if one reached the level of a Floor Guardian, deception became difficult. That entity, likely a guild NPC, might sense the resonance of Yggdrasil's origin.

Up until now they had managed to keep things hidden, but there was no guarantee they could continue to do so.

Not even the slightest fragment of information could be handed over carelessly.

Information was power, information was the key to victory. Even Ponshu Moe-sama had once said that information could matter more than strength itself.

"Then… what do you intend now? Lay out your plan for me in full."

When Naberal had used Message, Demiurge had replied that he would explain everything in person.

Thus, until arriving here Ainz had heard nothing, and could only strain his wits to divine Demiurge's intentions. But no matter how much he pondered, nothing came.

At best, he could imagine that demon-hunting would serve to bolster their reputation. But even that had been swallowed whole beneath the towering name of the great house—Monkyspanner El Dragondream.

It was like a brand-new company being overshadowed at once by an ancient megacorporation: consumed without the slightest ripple. And Ainz found the situation unsatisfying. Still, if it was Demiurge, then surely he had something in mind.

"To begin with, my lord, this entire chain of operations culminating in the Capital's assault yields six distinct advantages."

"Oh? Six, you say… I thought of, at most, five. Remarkable."

"Heh… then I am humbled, for it feels as though I have bested you in a contest of wits for the very first time, Ainz-sama."

"Nonsense. You always best me. Any victories of mine thus far have been nothing more than chance."

Ainz waved a hand with a practiced air of leisure, though inside he burned with shame.

Five advantages? He hadn't the faintest idea; he'd barely thought of one, and that flimsy at best. It was pure bluff. What he needed now was to coax the information out of Demiurge at once.

"Your humility is boundless…"

"No, truly… Ahem! In any case, speak. I wish to hear these insights of yours—matters even I failed to anticipate."

"As you command. First: the securing of wealth and resources. We raided not only the warehouse districts but every storehouse across the Capital where valuables might be hoarded. All such materials have been transferred into the Great Tomb of Nazarick by way of Shalltear's [Gate]. Pursuit is impossible, and Pandora's Actor is already sorting them."

"Oh… splendid indeed."

That was very welcome news. Production in Nazarick had been falling short of late. After the Shalltear incident he had hemorrhaged some five hundred million gold, and with dwindling reserves he had been troubled for months. But now, an immense influx of resources would revitalize Nazarick's power.

Of course, the Capital itself would be ruined—but that was of no concern. Only Nazarick's prosperity mattered.

"Second: we frame Eight Fingers as the scapegoat, pinning all crimes upon them. In so doing, the assault involving Sebas is covered over, and the blame cast entirely on that syndicate. Thus any suspicions of hidden intentions are redirected."

"I see… 'Hide a tree in the forest,' as the saying goes."

"A most astute interpretation, my lord. And for that deception, I prepared a lure."

At Demiurge's signal, Mare brought forth a satchel and opened it. Within lay a grotesque statue of a demon, six arms clutching jeweled orbs. The jewels glimmered ominously, and the statue itself seemed poised to stir at any moment. A palpable, malignant mana throbbed within it.

"That… was crafted by Ulbert, was it not?"

"Yes, Ainz-sama. These gems are imbued with [Final Battle: Evil]. As you say, it was created by Lord Ulbert, but surely this is the occasion for which such a tool was meant."

A tenth-tier spell sealed within a demonic idol—Ulbert's attempt at crafting an artifact to rival a world-class item. The result had proved little more than a crude imitation, and he had quickly lost interest.

"Demiurge, put that away. I will give you something else to use."

From within his robe Ainz produced a similar statue. Its jewels were fewer, its shape cruder, its aura weaker.

"And that is…?"

"The prototype of Ulbert-sama's idol. A failed test, one he would have discarded. I kept it. If we are to employ such an object, better to use the failed one."

"A-Ainz-sama, we cannot possibly—!"

"Enough. This is Nazarick's undertaking entire. I too must bear my share. And besides, Ulbert-sama would hardly wish his discarded failures to linger."

"That you would bestow such a wondrous item upon us… I am overwhelmed… profoundly, immeasurably overwhelmed…"

"Enough, Demiurge. There are more important matters than this. Think of it simply as a reward for your loyalty. Now—continue."

Though Ainz waved him off, Demiurge—who had fallen from his chair to kneel on the floor—remained bowed.

"For us, the Guardians, beings created by supreme hands, to dedicate our loyalty until the moment of our dissolution is only natural. And yet, to receive such grace again and again…! This Demiurge vows henceforth to pledge even greater fidelity, for all eternity!"

"...Mm. I shall expect no less. But rise—there is still more you must explain."

"Yes! I am honored."

Resuming his seat, Demiurge composed himself and went on.

"Thus, Yaldabaoth raided Eight Fingers' bases with the intent of seizing such items. Afterward, to vent his fury, he turned upon the Capital and set it aflame. Whether those warehouses contained stockpiles or not is irrelevant now, for they lie in ashes. Furthermore, this artifact will conveniently be 'discovered' at one of Eight Fingers' most vital strongholds."

"I see… and the next? There should be four more."

"Indeed, my lord. I shall hasten my account. Third: by my demon summoning, the slaughter, and the fires, I have driven the Capital into chaos, creating circumstances where people can vanish without notice. The humans we seized in that confusion will all be taken to Nazarick for various uses. As for the infamy of these deeds, I intend for them all to be carried beneath the name of Yaldabaoth."

"...So infamy itself is your aim?"

"Yes. The third advantage is, as you say, infamy. The name Yaldabaoth will be etched into the world as that of a Demon King."

As Demiurge intoned this with solemnity, Ainz suddenly recalled some of the "orders" he had once handed down—half in jest. Among them had been the proclamation of world conquest, and even a flippant remark about creating a Demon King.

And now this faithful servant had taken that jest in earnest, working tirelessly to forge it into reality and bringing it back before him as fact.

How… how did it come to this? For a moment Ainz felt the beginnings of panic.

Yet, however twisted the path, in the end it all served Nazarick's benefit. That was enough to accept it.

"Still… these humans you brought to Nazarick—do you mean men, women, and children alike?"

"Yes. Is that a problem, my lord?"

"..."

Ainz fell silent. A faint disquiet stirred within him.

He no longer felt any kinship with humanity. Once he had been human, yes—but as an undead Overlord, that was nothing more than a distant memory.

Humans were another race entirely. For Nazarick's sake, he could slaughter them without hesitation.

And yet… the thought of killing children disgusted him. Perhaps some remnant of Suzuki Satoru lingered still.

After a moment's brooding, he reached a compromise.

"Demiurge—those who have not insulted me, nor profaned Nazarick, shall at least be granted a painless death."

"As you command."

The reply was immediate, unquestioning. Demiurge's foremost concern was Nazarick's well-being—but above all, his master's will.

Pitiful though the young may be, those taken to Nazarick could never simply be released. That would risk leaks of information. With the possibility of other player guilds existing in this world, the danger was too great. Thus, the greatest mercy Ainz could grant was a swift, painless end.

"Good. Then let us move on. You have explained but half."

"Understood. The fourth advantage… owes much to Mare."

"Mare?"

Ainz glanced aside. The dark elf boy flushed and gave an awkward smile.

"And what is that?"

"It is still in progress, so I cannot give you the result as yet. I will present the details once you return to Nazarick. Next, the fifth purpose: to gauge the strength of hidden powers within the Kingdom."

"Oh? So not merely that man's strength?"

Previously, Ainz had all but confirmed Monkyspanner's origin and had ordered Demiurge to test his power.

That task had been admirably carried out.

But it seemed that had not been the only goal.

"Correct. As you surmised, my lord, that man is likely akin to us—a retainer of some guild, serving his master. If so, then within this city lurk others of his kind. Perhaps even those who wield the same mysterious force that enslaved Shalltear. I judged it prudent to proceed with utmost caution."

"So that is why you moved personally?"

"Yes. Since I carry the [Vessel of Quintessence] you bestowed upon me, I believed I would be immune even if struck by what I suspect to be a World Item. Moreover, I took every precaution with the authority you granted me. Even if the worst occurred, measures were in place."

"…Mm. And the other Guardians have been moving restlessly of late—was that your doing?"

"Indeed. Some I have temporarily withdrawn to Nazarick, but Aura shall soon return. Here we have Mare, Shalltear watches from the outskirts, Cocytus awaits below, and Lady Albedo herself now stands at Eight Fingers' central base, at my request. Though I could not summon Omega, and Sebas is occupied with rescuing Tuare, I compensated by summoning my Twelve Archdemons. Should battle prove unwinnable, they are prepared to retreat with intelligence back to Nazarick."

"…So even Albedo was persuaded to leave Nazarick."

"My lord's personal campaign—your valor—was something she dearly longed to witness. When I suggested it, she agreed without hesitation."

"...I see. And the result?"

"Optimal. Aside from that man, no other force capable of threatening the Guardians has revealed itself. A few can trouble the Pleiades, perhaps—but none could threaten a Floor Guardian."

That was excellent news. Any potential threat to Nazarick must be extinguished early, especially if linked to the unknown World Item that had once seized Shalltear.

"Splendid, Demiurge. Your diligence, your refusal to underestimate the enemy—I am impressed."

"Your praise is too much, my lord. Yet one matter remains—the final, and perhaps greatest, benefit. This, I have long prepared, and I believe it shall yield the most lasting gain."

"Oh? And what is that?"

Ainz felt an odd tightening in his nonexistent chest. Five gifts already, and now Demiurge promised one greater still.

"The last is… Dragon's Dream, my lord. For Nazarick to ascend further, to seize dominance of this world, I deem it essential we place that mighty order beneath our banner."

For a heartbeat, Ainz was struck speechless. The proposal was preposterous. But Demiurge pressed on.

On the other hand, Demiurge's proposal to devour Dragon's Dream was undeniably tempting. Even a brief survey revealed how vast, how formidable this order truly was.

A history spanning one hundred and fifty years was too valuable to ignore. If Nazarick could swallow them whole, then as Demiurge claimed, every deficiency Nazarick presently suffered would be answered.

And more than that—by placing such a renowned name beneath his heel, Momon's fading reputation would be carried upward along with it. That thought pleased Ainz greatly.

"Hmph. But surely the risks are enormous. Have you considered that?"

"Yes, my lord. Though your keen insight has pierced the identity of that man, Monkyspanner, we lacked proper instruments to measure his true power. Fragile humans and lesser demons proved useless for comparison. Thus, I changed my approach."

It was for this very reason that the great "demonic upheaval" had been orchestrated, Demiurge explained.

It also served as a mask—to obscure the intent of testing Monkeyspanner's might.

To pit Nazarick directly against him alone would have risked revealing too much of Nazarick's power, practically declaring, we are targeting you.

Instead, by embroiling entire factions in chaos, it would not appear as though Monkyspanner himself had been singled out.

"And by widening the scale so greatly, I calculated that his master, his allies, or his retainers would be forced to crawl out from hiding."

Having analyzed Dragon's Dream at length, Demiurge found one question persistent: why had such a vast order, of all places, rooted itself in the Kingdom?

His conclusion was clear. The presence of their Main House was no coincidence. It was not simply tradition—they guarded something in this nation they could not afford to abandon. This was their true base of operations.

"No mere conjecture, my lord. One hundred and fifty years of unbroken history stand as proof. Across all that time, they have never once shifted their headquarters. Every Patriarch in turn has remained here. Therefore I judged: there is something in this capital they must protect."

"So this entire calamity was, in part, a probe to determine whether they conceal hidden strength?"

"Indeed."

"…But tell me—if their power had proved overwhelming? If the assault had been crushed in an instant—what then?"

"In that event, I would have ordered immediate withdrawal, myself included. Yet I judged such a scenario impossible."

"And why so?"

"Because of time itself, my lord." Demiurge rose, spreading his arms as if to encompass the ages. "Forgive the presumption, but—we are strong, Ainz-sama."

"No one knows that better than I. But continue."

"With such strength, all beings harbor the desire to wield it, to shape or to rule the world. Yet Dragon's Dream has persisted for one hundred and fifty years. To immortals and long-lived races that span centuries, this is not so long. But to short-lived humans, it is an age—a heritage passed through many generations. For them to conceal their might and act only in shadows, in such a fragile world, is unthinkable."

"…I see."

Yes, that reasoning was sound. After all, he himself was proclaiming world conquest in grand, noisy strokes. Why would others with power not act likewise?

History offered examples aplenty. The Six Great Gods—presumed players—were worshipped as deities and ruled openly. The Eight Greed Kings nearly brought the world to heel. When one has power, one inevitably longs to wield it.

And if those wielders were players, the impulse would be all the greater. Many had fled into Yggdrasil precisely to escape their stifling realities. Was he himself—Suzuki Satoru—any different? Without the mental suppression of undeath, he might have long since let loose his darker urges.

"Thus I concluded: if they do not show themselves even now, amidst such chaos, then only two possibilities remain."

Demiurge lifted two fingers.

"One: they have no intent to oppose, and hide themselves away. Two: there is no power left to oppose at all."

Then, lowering his voice, he added:

"Furthermore, according to a source I intend to present to you later… that man, Monkyspanner, is said to soon vanish from this world—leaving his house and legacy behind, disappearing without a trace."

Ainz steadied himself, hands folded behind his back as if he had foreseen this outcome all along.

"Excellent. Then there is nothing more to delay us. We shall depart at once."

Demiurge bowed deeply, eyes gleaming behind his spectacles. "As you command, my lord. Once the prey has been secured, I shall unfold the remaining stages of the plan. I deemed it premature to trouble you with details before the lynchpin was in our grasp."

Still more plans? Ainz's nonexistent stomach lurched. He had already been overwhelmed by six advantages, then a hidden seventh, and now Demiurge was calmly hinting there was still more. Were they following his orders—or were his orders being interpreted into an entirely different doctrine?

But there was no room to falter. Drawing upon the cold calm of [Emotional Suppression], he nodded grandly. "Indeed. That is wise of you, Demiurge. Prudence becomes you."

At his words, Demiurge's devotion seemed to burn brighter. "My lord's praise is beyond my measure. I swear this hunt shall end with that man shackled beneath your will."

Beside them, Mare fidgeted nervously but looked ready to obey. The childlike Dark Elf's unease contrasted sharply with the iron certainty of Demiurge, yet to Ainz it was almost comforting—proof that not all his guardians saw through his façade.

"Once Aura joins us, we begin," Ainz declared, letting his voice echo with the gravity of command. He tried to imagine himself as the supreme ruler Demiurge seemed to see: a being who had anticipated everything, who had already set the board before the first piece moved.

Please, let this work out… he prayed silently in the depths of his mind. If they truly succeeded in capturing Monkyspanner—whether NPC, hidden player, or something worse—then Nazarick would either gain a formidable bargaining chip… or open the lid of a coffin far too heavy to close.

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