The rest of the tournament did not hold the same excitement as the duel that came before.
And while many were as eager as I to see what else the next bout would bring, I admit... I felt nothing but numbness since. And it all started when we were finally shown what Momonga was truly capable of as he wielded a sword unlike any ever known.
A sword that seemed to obey not hand gestures, voice commands or anything of the sort, nothing but mere thought alone.
And everyone wanted it.
I had played Yggdrasil for a year yet I have never seen such a weapon before.
You see, Yggdrasil's total player freedom may be restricted at some parts but it is still undisputed as the greatest game of the century.
Offering more untapped potential than any other game out there, specially the customization.
One of the things that made this customization incredible is the means to apply not just your own programming but also Artificial Intelligence to your own creations.
NPC's are an inexcusable commodity that is sold at frightening prices. Be they companions, pets or mercenaries for hire.
But its not their power that determines their value, but how well they function. One of the most important factor is the adaptability function of the NPC.
Simple programing is too stiff to some players, but those who succeeds at creating something so life like? It is an inexcusable advantage worth every drop of envy.
Even I know Nulgath would want that sword for himself.
This was made evident as we watched the duel between them... And it was frighteningly one sided.
Momonga had stopped relying on debuffs made by physical contact, not anymore. His entire build had gone through a massive overhaul in one hour.
And while he easily matches out with Nulgath in terms of melee. Momonga had now also matched Nulgath's arsenal from mid to long range by taking to shooting beams, exploding orbs and spikes of darkness with tendrils of shadows at his enemy.
Each attack is a power dampening skill from other classes like Death Knight, Doom Knight, Shadowmancer, to Soul Mage.
And while many thought he would lose Mana quickly due to his continuous expenditure. It appears that he had found a loop hole against that too. Proven by his relentless assault causing Nulgath to be caught and trapped in between the mid and long range, just shy away from his own range of retaliation.
This playstyle was such a change that many were flabbergasted at how frighteningly flexible his character is. Thankfully, answer came shortly after much deliberation in the community forums...
[Dark Wisdom]
A unique skill unlockable by only those who actually pursuit the high spectrum of necromatic classes and races. It was the only viable way to obtain such skills without the necessary classes.
But the introduction of a unique skill also leads to speculation that aside from Momonga being an Overlord -the known highest and most powerful among the order of the Undeath- he might just be in possession of a Unique Class of his own.
A Class to rival his race which would elevate his race higher than an Overlord itself.
I felt my breath leave me as the arena erupted into chaotic cheers once more. And amidst the lull in the duel, Nulgath stood at death's door at 5% HP against Momonga's 23%.
I knew then he had been cornered, and so I watched attentively as Nulgath is left with little time to prepare the use of his trump card....only...
[Nulgath: Surrendered]
"What..."
He didn't... I felt my body shake at what it could possibly mean. My mind reasoning that Nulgath saw no purpose in using the item but...
What if... what if it was more important than the World Champion Tournament?
My mind swirled at the implications and with a bit of a shudder, I decided to bolt, plan, and perhaps- just perhaps... take it for myself.
"Ah...there you are, Alaf."
My head snapped at the one who spoke, armed with a menacing armor of black above blood red that looked like muscles with bulky shoulders, bracers and greaves. It has demonic faces carved into every piece of armor... each with a blood red motif of a face contorted into a glee filled smile.
One of Nulgath's most loyal...
"Grimlord."
"Our lord has summoned you... thief... Resist, and I shall bring you to him in pieces and oh!!!...please... do resist." her voice, sultry and challenging, with her last words purring out of her mouth, yet...
From beneath her hood shone a toothy smile of a demon, blood stained and as sharp as the daintiest stilettos, with two pairs of eyes shining above them.
[Winner: Momonga]
Ignoring the cheer of the crowd, I decided that I have to fight... I will lose but, I will fight.
In a great hall made of white marble floors and walls. Housing forty marble pillars, each one adorned with various flags of crimson accented with gold, sat forty thrones of gold and silver. Each throne occupied by forty different creatures and beings.
A diverse cast filled with winged avian faced men, brain exposed squids with beaks and tentacles for limbs, gelatinous slimes of pink, one with black, another blue and lastly red slimes to demons, insectoids, and vine like ents.
Thirty different creatures, thirty different voices united under one banner, all beneath one guild. A guild with its emblem in full display at the black obsidian table that is big enough to be a stage centered between them. Trimmed in gold and etched with multitudes of unknown markings from various scripts around the world. And at its center lies the emblem, bathed beneath a crystal clear water in a slightly lower segment.
And while this beings speak, shout, whisper and throw insults and compliment at one another, there is another who sat quietly.
Sitting atop a black throne compared to the rest, is an armored undead adorned with horns. Wearing an ornate resplendent armor shining like the finest sapphire beneath the light and the blackest of nights beneath the shadows. Its a blue tattered cape spread widely atop his throne to which his body sat firm, steady and strong against the tall backrest.
His arms rested in relaxed silence and fingers splayed calmly and surely, while his eyes burned fiery with gold flames. He continues to sit there, quietly watching as wisps of gold smoke escapes the edges of his eyes. While his curved horns casted a dark shadow that highlighted their colors.
Against the topic and the chaotic rupture of his Guildmates' discussion, Momonga sat in silence as he listened to them express their grievances.
"This! Should never have HAPPENED!"
"It already has, lets just prepare already!"
"We can't just disregard what she did! It would be bad precedent to not only us but our future members!"
"I say we hunt her down and kill her!"
"We can't just hunt her down... not right now!"
"Coward!!!"
"Its called being smart dumbass!"
"Look there is no point in pursuing this topic! It has already been done!"
"He is right." Tabulua's voice of reason resonated amongst the members. "We have all decided that she violated none of our Rules as she is not a member of Ainz Ooal Gown."
"Besides," adds Blue Planet. "We wouldn't have succeeded had it not been for her. Or even if we did, we would not have won so easily. And who's to say we wouldn't be in the same scenario after the fact."
"A collective decision has already been put forth. This matter ends now!" says Touch Me, with his insectoid head exposed.
"We should be focusing as another guild approaches. Are our preparations enough?" asks Buku-Bukuchagama.
"It will be."
His voice echoed, shushing all those present. From his seat rose Momonga and leans down at the table, gazing at the center that reflects a calm flow of crystal clear water. And while his members could only see the guild emblem, he is instead being shown an image of a couple of hundred players gathering just at the outskirts of the swamp where their guild is located in.
"Seraphina has informed me of this group. They won't make it passed the third floor." Momonga reasons.
"Why do we even believe her!?" someone shouted. "She's the reason they found this location in the first place!!!"
"Enough! Velkoz!" booms Ulbert, against the multi tentacled creature with a huge eye as its main body.
"He is right Ulbert-san. She sold the information! Our! information! The location and even the capacity of this guild is out there in the public! We can't just set something like that aside!" adds another.
The members once more devolved into argument. And for all the divide it may have ensued, Momonga was made to see things differently. Instead he sees those who had always been by his side, those whom he believe would last and possibly stay and then...there are those who won't and lastly, the saboteurs he hopes to deal with one day.
"-hey its not as if she was affiliated to anyone anyway right? But that begs the question, why should we trust a guild leader who can't do the same for us?" said in a mocking tone. An edge that was not well received by others.
"You will watch your tounge when you speak with Momonga, Gabriel." Ulbert gritted out.
"Just telling the truth-"
"Enough!" Ulbert bellows.
Momonga raised his gauntleted hand freezing all tension in the air. "It is alright Ulbert." he turns to Gabriel, a one winged fallen and says. "The reason we can trust her is because her information is real. Just like it was ten raids ago."
All dissent ceased at the implications. Not wanting to speak out against his solid and proven argument and while they could not show emotions, the sneers of denial weren't so difficult to feel.
And in their silence, Momonga walked to the nearest grand window, distracting himself as he bask at his creation.
It has been two months since his ascension to World Champion, the acquisition of a Divine Race: Death, and three months since the Founding of Ainz Ooal Gown and the conquest of Nazarick.
Now here he stands, the first of the five Divine Player in Yggdrasil, with a guild base now known for its exorbitant NPC Levels.
He remembers that day clearly, even the overflowing joy and eagerness to build something. A feeling mirrored by his friends in the guild.
He admits that curiosity guided his thoughts that day. He was rich but he doesn't know how rich. But a sense, or an itch he supposed, permeated him. To -for once in his life- spend beyond what he knew and actually not fear an end.
And he did.
He expanded the guild to the point that his members were flabbergasted at his actions. From the original five floors available to ten floors. And even raising the NPC Levels to 3100. Each waiting to be filled.
And with his generosity, the members took to building the guild base with gusto. Finally putting to action their long awaited desire to build something for themselves in Yggdrasil.
Everyone took a piece of the guild for their own.
A dozen members went to the first three floors and started building a defensive structure, Peroroncino being one of them. Carrying with himself a Divine Item, the blood of the First Vampire.
Nishiki Enrai and Luci★Fer collaborated on the fourth floor.
Warrior Takemikazuchi and Tabula Smaragdina worked on the fifth floor.
Buku-Bukuchagama, and three others worked on the sixth floor with help from Blue Planet.
Ulbert took the seventh floor for himself along with every evil aligned player of the guild while housing Anohamahitotsu's forge.
And while the eight floor remained vacant and the tenth untouched. And the tenth floor turned treasury under Genjiro's management. It was the ninth floor that Momonga had claimed and worked in secret with Eliza's guidance.
The place where he built the foundation of his dream build. A secret quest, achieved and done in silence.
So here they sat. Within a magnificent cathedral of brilliant white standing at the heart of the Silver City.
A city occupied by Angels of the Second Circle and half a dozen of the First Circle.
Angels of the Second Circle flew around in great numbers. Ranging from the Angels of Virtues whos form looked like knightly men with wings of feather.
Dominions and their mechanical forms and devoid heads of anything but the light they embody.
And Powers, who's forms looked like beings born of the elements themselves. Taking on the forms of warm flaming orbs, swirling vortices of water and wind, to a white orb orbited by various rocks. Each adorned with tendrils of light that stretched and flow like wings, alighted by the very color of their elements.
And among these angels stood five stalwart guardians. Giants even among their kin.
Two bore the head and mane of a lion, with lances light aflame with golden fire and an eye on their emblazoned bucklers. They stand armored head to toe with a shining silver rmor covering their muscular frame. They have an iron grip on their weapons and the clawed feet of a lion. Gifted with two pair of wings. One pair wrapped around them and the other spread widely shining in pure white feathers. The Cherubim of the Silver City.
Not far from them are a pair of mechanical golden bands. Bands circling each other in constant motion. Orbiting a single golden sun. From which six ethereal lights that shape themselves like wings kept them afloat. The Thrones.
And finally the one angel standing imposingly close to the great cathedral, clad in golden armor, shimmering red from beneath as if heated by non-existent flames. Adorned with six wings of burning light and a hood of pure white that hides his entire face and head making him look as if he was shadow itself.
The Seraphim the one who stands guard, holding a greatsword of pure silver and an ornate crossguard of gold, resting in silence atop the stairs to the cathedral.
Their numbers may not be as great as the first three floors. But once they saw the level difference, it more than silenced their questions and probing regarding his choices.
Many were envious of his combat oriented build. Even more with his mind as he placed various traps, dead ends, ambush sights and highly modified monster spawn and detailed defensive actions and programs, that made the NPC's move as if they were experienced players.
They were the perfect soldiers, born with one purpose. To safeguard the realm of gods.
But to Momonga, they were a means to an end. All in preparation for the item he covets, The Wings of Ascension.
His eyes shifted to an item he had not thought to reveal to his Guildmates'. There, sitting silently in his inventory is the icon of a black and red crown surrounded by a red aura. 'The Crown of Asmodeus'.
He could only imagine it. With the the 'Most Profaned' item and the 'Most Divine' in his possession... his hands clenched and shook with his heart hammering in excitement. His mind wondering what the reward for such an offering would be. And fear at what it would mean should he fail.
"Then train my master." Eliza whispers in his ear. "Come, and be with me. Let me help you."
A calmness washes over him, like the soft flowing waters that washed away the fatigue. And whether it was an illusion or not, he could not remove his mind from the scent of flowers that softly caresses his senses.
"This is a waste of time." Momonga remarks. "I have important matters to address, I know the rest of you feels the same." he received nods of agreement. "Then it is decided. For all those who would challenge us... let them come." he left and vanished on the spot.
Moments passed in silence, left within a black screen as if he was floating in darkness. And in barely a second, he finds himself landing heavily on tiled floors. His footing barely held, bringing him to a knee. His eyes refocused and washed away the fog allowing him to see his surroundings and finds himself standing in a white room filled with tiled floors. Plain luminescent roofs, not visible to the eye and walls. They were so far he could only see a tiny grey line at the edges of the horizon.
Taking in the familiar surroundings, he walked with confident strides. Ignoring what does not exist and even those that slowly came to view. Like a raging train, racks upon racks of clothes rolled at either side of him to which he grabbed a single racket and put it on. Now wearing a pair of black cargo pants and brown leather belt with a silver buckle topped with a white muscle-fit short sleeve shirt.
He smiled feeling the fabric now hugging his body only to be distracted as another rack suddenly rolls towards him from the horizon. It moved at breakneck speeds and then halting unnaturally at his sides.
From the assorted pieces of clothes and accessories, he grabbed another rack where he put on a pair of gloves. And with each step he took, a pair of socks slowly knitted itself around his feet to his ankles. Forming into a pair of heeled combat boots wrapping itself around his feet as if tendrils of fabric making themselves whole. It reached all the way beneath his knees, and tucking his pants within them.
Suddenly he chuckles as a ray of weapons, ranging from pistols to machine guns, from daggers to knives, from swords to pole axes passed on by. But he paid them no mind.
With an amused smile, he shook his head at the unspoken suggestions and questions, and kept on walking till he reaches it. Pass the numerous choices, he finds himself locking his eyes at a weapon he wasn't sure actually existed.
A greatsword but with a cross spear attached at the other end of the handle.
He wrapped his hands around one of the two handles, and held the weapon as if any other sword.
A few swings with each step, feeling his muscles burn, stretch and contract. Every spin and footwork made him feel the slide of the slippery tiles, the tenses of his toes and ankles fitted with the flex of his thighs, born of instinct to make his feet find purchase on the uncertain terrain. Every twist of his body, the coil of his shoulders, the arc of his back, the strain on his bones... he felt them all and with his mind ever sharp and ever focus, he reprimands to himself whenever he would waver. All done in a trained fashion, brought out of discipline and practice.
A handful of minutes of this and his warm up ends then his location instantly shifted ones more.
The tiles folded on top of another , as wooden planks slid around him, forming a wooden floor. From square holes rose wooden pillars, and from pillars grew support beam. It went on and on, till he finds himself in a dojo.
And halted in his steps as his eyes landed on her. Hair braided around her head like a crown and tied around a bun with but a few strands of hair framing her face, curled and elegant at both sides.
Skin as smooth as silk, red lips curled upwards as menacing as blood. And a pair of ruby eyes that stared at him with unknown yet familiar hunger, barely buried within them.
She sat legs crossed on black sheer socks reaching up to her thighs. A pair of combat boots with heels wrapped around her feet.
And a form fitting white chiffon shirt that strained against her generous bust with slitted puff long sleeves on a black pleated skirt that reached just an inch above her knees, held together by a stylishly thick black waist belt that further highlighted her chest, her slim waist, tight stomach and her wide hips.
Seeing Suzuki blush at the sight of her made her smile. While somehow conjuring a pair of clear glasses with white square rims, she puts it on as she sauntered to a stand. And from the desk she sat on, she grabbed a pair of two meter long rulers and held them as if a pair of swords.
And with no warning, she rushed him and clashes her weapon against his own. His eyes drank in her form, his nose inhaled her scent, and his body felt the strain of power from her blow, and in response, his heart thrummed with excitement and with a smile he pressed on.
Eager to restart his training with an unmatched teacher more than eager to guide him.