The obsidian walls of the throne room echoed with silence. Ainz sat unmoving upon the throne, his crimson eyes narrowed beneath the Raizel-like visage that had become his mask in this world.
The [Mirror of Remote Viewing] shimmered, revealing the still figure of Shalltear Bloodfallen amidst a plain littered with corpses. Her silver armor was stained red. Her posture was perfectly straight, as though awaiting command.
Albedo stepped closer, visibly tense. "Do you intend to confront her directly, my lord?"
"No," Ainz said. "Not yet. I need to confirm the interference first. Come, Albedo. You're with me."
He raised his hand and whispered: "[Gate]."
****************
Ainz approached slowly, cloaked in magical defenses. He stepped into range, with Albedo keeping back at a safe distance.
Shalltear stood still, unmoving. The corpses at her feet had long cooled.
Ainz stopped several meters away.
"Shalltear," he called softly.
She didn't respond.
He took one more step forward.
"Shalltear. Do you recognize me?"
Still no response. Her expression didn't change. Her red eyes held no light of familiarity.
"…So be it."
Ainz reached into his inventory and pulled out the [Super Ring of Shooting Stars], an artifact capable of dispelling even the most stubborn effects, in theory.
He activated it.
A flash of silver-blue light radiated from his hand, washing over Shalltear like a wave.
And then…
Nothing.
No change.
The spell was absorbed—but the control remained.
Ainz stared at her, stunned.
Then a slow fury began to rise.
"…I see."
He lowered his hand. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"They used a World Item… and not even this could reach you."
His hands trembled. Not from fear.
From rage.
"I promised… I swore I would protect all of you."
He clenched his fists.
"And yet… I failed you."
Albedo approached quietly from behind, her voice filled with pain. "My lord… please. Let's return. You've seen enough."
Ainz nodded once.
He looked one last time at Shalltear's motionless figure.
"I will bring you back."
He turned, cloak flaring behind him.
"[Gate]."
***************
The [Gate] closed behind him.
Back within the safety of Nazarick's vast halls, Ainz stood still for a moment. The anger still coiled beneath his calm facade. Albedo stood at his side, glancing at him in concern—but she said nothing. She knew better than to speak while her lord was like this.
He turned without a word and began walking.
"Summon the Pleiades," he ordered curtly. "And meet me at the Treasury."
Albedo bowed. "At once, my lord."
Minutes later, deep beneath the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the doors of the Treasury loomed before him.
With the soft creak of ethereal hinges, they opened.
The otherworldly sight of the glittering Vault greeted him—walls studded with rare artifacts, gold piled high, and relics of both beauty and terror sealed in stasis.
Waiting within, standing with military posture and an almost exaggerated sense of pride, was—
"Welcome to the Treasury, mein Vater!"
Pandora's Actor gave a flamboyant bow, his accent thick and his pose more dramatic than ever. The Pleiades stood just behind Ainz, barely concealing their reactions. Solution sighed. Entoma tilted her head. Lupusregina grinned wide.
Ainz pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Pandora's Actor… tone it down."
"Jawohl!" He straightened like a spring recoiling. "Of course, Ainz-sama."
The man adjusted his posture and folded his arms, attempting a more serious stance.
Ainz let out a quiet sigh. Despite everything, seeing this NPC—his creation—always brought a strange warmth. As annoying as Pandora's Actor could be, he was still loyal… still part of the guild's legacy.
"I require full battle equipment. Use the World Item authentication protocol."
Pandora's Actor raised a brow. "So it is true then. Shalltear's data log confirmed she is under a hostile control protocol. You suspect…?"
"Yes. A World-Class Item. And it resisted the [Super Ring of Shooting Stars]."
Pandora's Actor's posture shifted immediately—less pompous, more alert.
"An enemy capable of using World-Class Items… That means another Player, does it not?"
Ainz didn't answer directly.
Albedo stepped forward. "We must assume so. Their audacity warrants it."
"I agree." Ainz's voice was cold now. "Prepare my equipment."
"Understood."
Pandora's Actor moved with efficient grace, no longer playing up his theatrics. Sealed chambers opened. With reverence, he retrieved the items: the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, armor forged by the Seven Blacksmiths, the robes that marked him as Guildmaster.
Then—after a moment of hesitation—he looked to Ainz.
"…Mein Vater. You are still sure about fighting Shalltear personally?"
Ainz nodded. "There's no other way."
"You could send Cocytus. Or Demiurge. Or even Aura with battlefield suppression."
"No. If I don't take responsibility for her, I don't deserve to lead Nazarick."
The Pleiades all lowered their heads in silent respect.
Albedo's voice was gentle now. "My lord… will you return victorious?"
Ainz turned to face them—his crimson eyes glowing beneath the Raizel-like features of his current form. The long black coat, the crimson trim, the pale elegance of the face—it gave him a noble, near-regal countenance. But his aura… was absolute.
"Yes," he said. "But I'm not doing this just to win. I will bring Shalltear back… or ensure she falls as a Guardian of Nazarick should."
He stepped forward and took the staff from Pandora's Actor.
"Thank you… all of you."
Then, his voice dropped to a whisper.
"And if I fall… protect Nazarick."
The Pleiades snapped into formal bows. Even Pandora's Actor stood at attention, saluting properly now.
"You will not fall," Albedo said, her voice trembling.
Ainz gave a final nod.
Slowly he strode to the deepest treasury room, alone this time.
***************
The Treasury of Nazarick stood in silence.
Within its shimmering vaults, surrounded by relics of incalculable value and forgotten battles, Ainz stood alone—at first.
Then came soft, deliberate footsteps behind him.
Albedo entered without a word, her golden eyes watching him closely. She didn't dare speak—not yet. Not when his back was turned, his focus honed on the task before him.
Ainz didn't look at her. But he allowed her presence.
She stood at a respectful distance, hands folded in front of her as her long black wings furled behind her back. Her white dress fluttered slightly from the magical currents in the air.
She wanted to say something—anything—but knew better. Now wasn't the time to offer comfort. Not to him.
Suzuki Satoru: She's still here. Even now. I didn't ask her to follow. But I'm not surprised.
He opened the interface and stepped toward the vault.
No heavy armor. No ornate crown. Just what was needed.
He selected the first item.
[Twilight Veil Robe]
Black silk, subtle crimson thread, a high collar. Flowing, clean, precise. Designed for speed, not spectacle.
—Mana regeneration +15%—Spell cost reduction –12% (Tier 1–8)—Disruption resistance
He equipped it silently.
[Ebonflow Bracelet]
A slim, polished band. Understated. Functional.
—Stores 10% of magic damage as delay-burst—Improves cooldown flow—Boosts spell efficiency in chained casting
He clasped it around his wrist.
[Silent Pulse Earrings]
Small, silver studs—refined, nearly invisible.
—Increases casting speed—Grants partial resistance to silence, charm, and stuns—Detects surveillance or foreign influence
He fastened them. His senses subtly shifted.
[Pendant of the Inner Current]
A narrow silver chain with a smooth, dark-glass pendant that hovered just over his chest, hidden beneath the robe.
—Overflows mana regeneration when idle—Improves control-based magic duration—Emergency burst capacity
He paused, touching the pendant before equipping it.
Albedo finally spoke—quietly, carefully.
"…You're not bringing the staff."
Her voice didn't carry judgment. It was observation. Worry, perhaps—but not doubt.
Ainz responded without turning. "This time, I won't need it."
She stepped closer. "Shall I summon the Pleiades to stand by?"
"No," he said. "Just you."
A small pause. Then: "Understood."
She moved to his side.
For a moment, neither spoke. The robe whispered as it shifted. The air trembled with the faint hum of layered enchantments. And yet, the silence between them was… intimate.
"You intend to face her alone," Albedo said, not as a question.
"Yes."
Her wings tensed slightly.
Still composed. Still loyal.
But beneath that carefully kept exterior, her voice wavered—only barely.
"…Then let me stand behind you. If you fall, I will strike first to defend your name. And… I will fall second."
Ainz turned to her.
His crimson eyes met hers. Neither one blinked.
"You won't need to."
Albedo's lips parted, but she stopped herself from saying more. She simply bowed her head, her wings relaxing just a little.
"Very well, my lord."
He looked away again, toward the vault.
Suzuki Satoru: She doesn't plead. She doesn't cry. But she's still afraid…
He raised a hand.
"[Gate]."
The portal shimmered open—quiet, restrained. No sound. Just a circle of pale light and shadow leaving albedo alone in the traesury vault.
****************
The [Gate] shimmered, then closed behind him.
Ainz Ooal Gown stood alone on a dead battlefield.
The wind was still. The clouds hung heavy above. No voices, no footsteps, no movement—only the scentless air of a field long since bloodied and abandoned.
And there she was.
Shalltear Bloodfallen.
Standing in perfect stillness at the center of the carnage.
She wore her usual crimson armor, black lace embroidery running along its gothic curves. Polished and regal. The armor she favored—not the shining valkyrie form reserved for true combat, but the one meant to invoke nobility. Beauty. Command.
Yet no life stirred behind her eyes.
Her red pupils glowed faintly under the dim sky, focused on nothing. Her parasol was absent. Her arms hung neatly at her sides. She didn't even acknowledge his arrival.
She was waiting.
Not for him.
For protocol.
Ainz stepped forward. Slowly. The soft rustle of his robe—the [Twilight Veil]—was the only sound. His long coat moved with the breeze, shadows playing beneath each fold.
Still, she didn't move.
He stopped twenty meters away.
"…Shalltear Bloodfallen."
Nothing.
No flicker of recognition. No twitch of her lips. No mocking smile, no coy deflection, no reverent bow.
Not even a reaction.
She was a statue, animated only by unseen strings.
Ainz's eyes narrowed beneath his Raizel-like visage.
He extended a hand.
Magical layers flowed into place, silently: [Delay Teleport Countermeasure], [Perfect Barrier], [Auto-Response Shell]. His pendant pulsed once, syncing with his bracelet. The earrings flickered, picking up her ambient aura—stable, but brimming with latent force.
He knew what she was.
What she was capable of.
And still—no movement.
Suzuki Satoru: She won't attack until I do. She's under absolute combat priority. No room for negotiation. Just instructions. A locked command tree.
He lowered his hand slightly.
The robe's enchantments whispered around him, maintaining regeneration. The battlefield was silent, but his mind was racing.
The battlefield lay still.
Shalltear's eyes had not shifted. Her body remained motionless. But Ainz could feel it — the moment he acted, she would awaken like a trap springing shut.
So he prepared.
One deep, soundless breath.
Then…
He lifted his right hand.
A sequence of magical runes spiraled into existence around him — one, two, then dozens. They overlapped, circled, shimmered across his body in layered formations. The battlefield dimmed as the raw magic began to pulse from within his frame.
[Greater Magic Shield].[Magic Resistance II].[Time Acceleration].[False Data Life].[Mana Essence Reinforcement].[Triplet Magic: Greater Teleport Lock].
Each buff layered perfectly. The [Twilight Veil Robe] drank in ambient mana. His bracelet pulsed, weaving delayed spell charges. The pendant beneath his collar pulsed in harmony with his energy flow.
Still, he wasn't ready.
He opened his inventory and summoned a familiar glow: a cash shop item—rare, precious, and absolutely necessary.
Suzuki Satoru: Even with this skin's passive, Super-Tier spells still take too long. That won't do. Not against her.
He activated the item.
It vanished in his palm.
Arcane power surged through his body.
He raised his hand toward the sky.
"Super-Tier Magic: Fallen Down."
A massive golden crest appeared overhead—sacred, searing, divine.
From it, pillars of white-gold light crashed down—unstoppable and absolute.
The first beam struck Shalltear directly.
She didn't dodge. She simply stood there, armor glowing, as the light engulfed her.
The ground cracked. Magic scorched the air.
When the brilliance faded, Shalltear still stood.
Smoke drifted off her armor. Her crimson plating shimmered with disrupted enchantments. A few were stripped. Her passive regeneration kicked in. Her health—dented, but stable.
Ainz watched carefully.
Then her head moved.
Her eyes found him—sharp now, aware.
The crimson lance appeared in her hand.
Her aura ignited like a silent detonation—killing intent blooming like a crimson rose.