After experiencing mental suppression over a dozen times, Ainz finally managed to regain his composure.

"H-how…?"

His thoughts were in chaos. Confusion, anger, fear, disbelief — every emotion swirled violently, only to be crushed over and over again by the automatic effect of Emotional Suppression. Each wave of forced calm only left his mind more fragmented.

Still, suppression continued to trigger — again and again — until at last, Ainz's awareness cleared enough to think rationally.

....

The translucent system console still floated before him, unresponsive to every touch.

When Shalltear had been resurrected, the moment he pressed her name, a cascade of golden light had flowed like molten metal.

The coins would merge into a radiant form, taking shape as the NPC's body — then life, or something akin to it, would return.

That was what should have happened.

But this time, nothing.

No light.

No response.

Demiurge's name remained pale and hollow.

No matter how many times he pressed it — once, twice, ten times — there was only silence.

Now too exhausted even to feel emotion, Ainz just kept pressing, click, click, click, like a broken automaton.

Finally, Albedo, who had been watching anxiously, spoke hesitantly.

"Um… Ainz-sama?"

"Ainz-sama? Are you not… attempting to resurrect Demiurge?"

"Ainz-sama?"

"It's… done."

"Eh?"

Ainz stopped pressing the console. His voice — hollow and brittle — sounded as if it belonged to a man who had aged decades in an instant.

"The resurrection… won't work."

"What…?"

"He cannot be revived, Albedo…"

"Th-that can't be—"

Albedo's words froze in her throat.

Shalltear, Cocytus, Aura, Mare, Sebas — every Guardian stared in disbelief.

Resurrection… failed?

Impossible.

They had seen Shalltear revived before their eyes.

And their supreme ruler — the one and only Ainz Ooal Gown, their god and guildmaster — he could not possibly fail to resurrect one of his own creations.

Yet the truth was before them.

Demiurge's name remained faded and lifeless.

Ainz covered his skull-like face with one bony hand; the crimson glow in his sockets flickered faintly.

"Again… again, is it…?"

His mind drifted back to that earlier nightmare — the Shalltear incident.

Back then, he couldn't believe it either.

A 100-level Guardian — a supreme creation with near-immunity to mental interference — being charmed? Controlled?

It had seemed impossible. Unthinkable.

And yet, it had happened.

In this world, "impossible" was a lie.

Now, once again, something beyond understanding had occurred.

Even death and resurrection — the fundamental laws of the YGGDRASIL system — had been defied.

"It can only be… one of those."

There were only a handful of things capable of interfering with an NPC's resurrection.

He knew them well.

Some powerful relics or cash-shop items could delay a player's respawn — like the Ghostsoul, which forced victims into a spirit state, preventing login for several days.

But those worked only on players, never on NPCs.

NPCs weren't affected by respawn restrictions or debuffs tied to player systems — except by one terrifying exception:

World Items.

The supreme relics that transcended all logic.

Over two hundred artifacts of godlike power — each capable of bending or breaking the system itself.

If anything could block resurrection — even that of a Guild NPC — it would be one of these.

Among them, Ainz could recall fewer than ten that directly influenced resurrection.

The most infamous were the Longinus, capable of permanently erasing both data and soul, and the Soul-Eating Serpent, nearly as dreadful but reusable.

Others included Soul Calibur, which forcibly extended a target's resurrection cooldown to a full day, and Death Scythe, which doubled the penalty upon revival.

The last two, however, were temporary — Demiurge should have revived by the next day if one of those had been used.

But the others…

Those two Longinus and Soul-Eating Serpent…

Even recalling their names filled Ainz with dread.

They were the tools of top-tier guilds — the elite of the elite.

If one of those guilds had crossed over into this world, then Nazarick might have met its true equal.

"This is… bad," Ainz thought grimly.

Even for the dreaded Ainz Ooal Gown, with all its dark legend and forty-one supreme beings, they were still a small guild compared to the massive organizations that possessed such relics — guilds with thousands of members.

And one of them…now held Demiurge's soul hostage.

Even though most of those great guilds had dwindled by the end of YGGDRASIL, with many of their players quitting the game and their numbers shrinking, they remained terrifying foes nonetheless.

However, Longinus was a single-use weapon — the ultimate item that annihilated both the target's data and the user's own in the process.

Once activated, it would even erase NPCs entirely, deleting every bit of data assigned to them.

But using such a weapon on Demiurge?

It was far too excessive… even by Ainz's standards.

That left only one possibility.

If it was The Soul-Eating Serpent…

Ainz felt an icy chill crawl up his spine.

"No… it can't be…"

"Ainz-sama?"

Albedo's anxious voice rang out as Ainz suddenly stood up, startling everyone.

But he ignored her — the red glow in his eye sockets flared wildly, trembling with agitation.

Even emotional suppression couldn't completely contain the storm raging inside him.

"It can't be…! Everyone, stay here and wait for me!"

"Yes, Ainz-sama! We will wait for however long it takes!"

"Good! I won't be long!"

With that, Ainz stormed out of the Throne Hall and into the inner corridors.

After a long walk through the solemn passageways, he activated teleportation to reach a deeper chamber — the Treasure Vault of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

The moment he arrived, a dazzling brilliance flooded his vision — as though the countless stars of the heavens had been gathered into a single place.

The ceiling was so high it vanished into darkness, and the walls stretched far beyond sight.

Everywhere, treasures glimmered in gold and crystal splendor.

But Ainz didn't spare them a glance.

He strode forward, muttering the same word over and over through his clacking teeth.

"No… no… no…"

It couldn't be.

It mustn't be.

Yet, no matter how desperately he tried to deny it, the most probable answer kept clawing its way to the front of his mind.

He had to confirm it.

He needed to see for himself whether the enemy Ainz Ooal Gown now faced… was that guild.

And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made.

From the very beginning — since the assault on the royal capital — something had felt off.

The guardian-like being called Monkyspanner had possessed equipment far too powerful for an ordinary NPC.

Such gear wasn't something just anyone could craft.

True, Ainz Ooal Gown had always been a small, elite guild of forty-one members —but every one of those forty-one had been an established adult with a steady income, and thus capable of heavy spending on the game.

Even among them, Shalltear's equipment, painstakingly crafted by her creator, the Supreme Being Peroroncino, represented the peak of luxury and power.

And yet… Monkyspanner's gear had surpassed even that — if only slightly.

For an NPC to be equipped at that level, their guild would have had to be enormous — one of the richest and most powerful in all of YGGDRASIL.

At the time, the sheer chaos of the situation and the following conquest of the Dragon's Dream clan had distracted him from considering it carefully.

But now, he had to face the truth he'd overlooked.

An NPC that strong could not have existed in isolation.

He had assumed Monkyspanner had simply died of old age, as Demiurge had suggested… but perhaps he should have listened more closely.

If the guild that created such a being still existed — whether above the ground, in the sky, or hidden deep below the earth —if they possessed multiple guardian-class NPCs, if they were one of those massive guilds capable of wielding World Items…

And if, by some impossible chance, there was still a player among them —a living master, just like Ainz himself —one who ruled over their guild as he ruled over Nazarick—

The thought drove Ainz's mind into a spiral of dread.

His imagination raced toward the worst possible scenario as he reached the deepest part of the vault —the great black wall-like door that sealed away Nazarick's True Treasury.

He raised his voice, reciting the incantation.

"Thus shalt thou claim all the glory of this world—

and darkness shall flee before thee!"

Immediately, the dark door opened, revealing the inner sanctum — the true sanctuary of treasures, the Sepulcher.

But Ainz had no time to admire it.

He strode quickly through the corridor, reaching the central hall beyond —and there, as always, stood the NPC who imitated one of the Supreme Beings, Lucifer.

Pandora's Actor.

"Ooooh! My glorious creator, Ainz-sama! To what divine purpose do I owe this most splendid of visits today—"

"Enough talk, Pandora's Actor! Do you remember the treasures that were brought in last time?!"

"But of course, Ainz-sama! Those magnificent trophies of conquest, your glorious spoils of war! I have safeguarded and catalogued them most—"

"Spare me the details. Bring them all here, now!"

Under normal circumstances, Pandora's Actor's theatrical speech and exaggerated posture would have struck Ainz like a mental bomb, forcing him to compose himself through sheer willpower.

But right now, Ainz didn't have the time—nor the mental focus—to suppress his agitation.

His thoughts were racing in a single, dreadful direction.

Sensing the shift in his creator's tone, Pandora's Actor straightened immediately, dropping the dramatics.

The hollow black sockets of his mask narrowed sharply.

"I see… Understood, Ainz-sama. I shall retrieve them at once."

"Good. Hurry."

"Jawohl! Wenn es meines Gotten Wille—(If it be my God's will)."

"Guh—"

Even so, Ainz couldn't help but flinch. Pandora's Actor's habit of sprinkling German still managed to deal a direct blow to his soul.

The forced calm that followed let Ainz briefly regain control, though only for a moment.

He realized how deeply unsettled he truly was…

But he had to see it for himself.

If his suspicion proved true, it would mean Nazarick now stood at the edge of catastrophe.

"I have returned, Ainz-sama! The treasures are here!"

"Good! Hand them over!"

"At once!"

Pandora's Actor presented several items.

A golden armor, a crown, sandals and bracelets, ceremonial robes—each one radiating faint divine power.

Ainz snatched them up, inspecting them feverishly.

Golden Chain Armor.

Blessed Cloud Crown.

And then… and then—

He froze.

"Th-this is…"

In his hand was a small ring.

A plain gold band, unremarkable at first glance—save for a few delicate symbols engraved upon it.

No powerful aura, no overwhelming magic.

At a glance, it seemed utterly mundane.

But Ainz's gaze locked onto it, his crimson eye flames trembling violently.

This was the item he should have noticed long ago.

Its name appeared in the system interface:

[The Zodiac Ring]

An unmistakable guild item.

A counterpart to [The Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown].

A guild item… from another guild.

And Ainz remembered its name vividly.

"The… Zodiac Twelve…?"

The empty sockets of his skull seemed to quake.

The crimson flames of his eyes flickered and thrashed madly.

He now knew.

The guild that had taken Demiurge—

The guild that wielded The Soul-Eating Serpent—

The guild whose symbol now lay in his hand—

was none other than The Twelve Divines — the legendary.

******************

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