Overlord of Biblical proportions

Tannin was an old dragon. Old even to dragons – not just to humans and similar short-lived races. One of the Six Dragon Kings, it was expected for him to be old. At least, he was once one of them, before he was reborn as a demon, and the Dragon Kings dwindled in number to five.

Of course, even powerful demons couldn't completely reborn Tannin into a demon, to etch out all his dragon essence and completely replace that with a demonic one. Tannin may have changed his essence, stopped being a Dragon King and became a ‘queen’-piece demon. But in the end he was still a dragon, whatever the whispers of those who hated him whispered behind his back, laughing at his decision to enlist as a demon for the ephemeral purpose of ‘saving the species,’.

Many dragons had a rather simple view of the world, that if someone was too weak to survive – perhaps they didn't deserve to survive in the first place.

But Tannin thought otherwise. Defying the beliefs of so many dragons, he caused a split in his society, forcing the ever-quarreling winged lizards to unite, into groups that supported Tannin's decision to save the dragon species. With the other side, a group that were offended by his decision to serve the demons, dismissing his title of Dragon King as an old unwanted rag.

And, where the seed of enmity had been planted, a harvest of lies would spring up. And so many rumors about Tannin began to spread faster than listeners had time to hear all the previous ones. That he had lost his dragon wings, that he was no longer defined by their senses as a dragon, that he now worked as a watchdog for his new master, Mephisto.

Of course, lies were nothing more than that, lies – Tannin was in fact still a dragon.

And dragons had many natural advantages over many other races – advantages so important that it was simply impossible to get past them.

One of those advantages was a dragon's natural disposition to learn magic.

Of course, Tannin was never really strong in that direction. The only magic he really relied on was the magic of his [Blast Breath] and other than that he only relied on his strong claws.

But even so, thanks to his nature, and thanks to the action of his [Figure], Tannin has a keen sense to detect magic. He was able to sense strong magic from several hundred meters away, even while distracted by the communication with his sons.

So when Tannin sensed the usage of really powerful magic, as far as Tannin himself could determine, some kind of portal, he was alert. The not yet fully formed portal was enough to alert Tannin to the intrusion, only for it to disappear a moment later – Tannin instantly realized that the situation was strange.

When that intrusion was instantly gone, as if knowing that Tannin had cottoned on to its presence, the situation went from strange to mysterious.

Teleportation wasn't some rare trick in the world of the supernatural, but it was unlikely that any of the demons in Tannin's neighborhood would suddenly dare to invade the demesne of a former Dragon King, an Ultimate rank Demon. At least, not without an extremely good reason.

And, as further questioning and inspection of the demons' situation showed, none of Tannin's acquaintances planned to pay him a surprise visit. That, in turn, made Tannin's situation even more puzzling. Who in that case would try to appear in Tannin's fiefdom? More importantly, if they were planning to do so, why did they change their mind moments later, allowing the portal to disperse before it could even fully form?

Especially strange was the fact that Tannin himself and his territory were of no interest. His territory was populated almost entirely by dragons, with the only thing of interest in his mountain being the Dragon Apples. With all the attempts Tannin himself or the ruling Satans had made to establish relations between the other races, the process of reconciling the two different races, dragons and demons, was too slow. And that was even for Tannin himself, who was an unaging and very old man.

Who could have thought of trying to go into dragon territory? Why would they change their minds? And, in the end, what did this event itself mean to Tannin himself and his dragon wards?

Tannin did not know the answers to these questions… But for some reason, when he thought about the strange incident, Tannin's insides began to tighten into a strange and unpleasant knot…

He hoped that it’s just indigestion, and not his instincts crying out that he’s in great danger…

***

Goemon and Hanzo looked at each other with uneasy looks. Though neither could see the other's eyes, they both could tell that each other’s expression was nothing but good. Stepping astride to their destination, even with the pall of their failure hanging heavy on their head, they couldn’t help but admire the architecture of the place they had found themselves in.

The small room was filled with a light and enchanting half-light, accentuating the expensive wood counter in the room, the chandelier hanging above highlighting the many shelves full of precious drinks behind the glass cabinet. In front, laid several padded seats in front of the bar, and finally their attention landed on the steward of this bar himself.

There could be nothing else this place could be, a place where failures like them go to wash away their shame. In concert, the two of them bowed fully before the proprietor of the bar, bending their waist to a right angle. “Dear Lord Clavu, we ask you to allow us two, unworthy, to wash away our shame in your bar with alcohol!”

“Oh, distinguished gentlemen," At these greetings, Clavu, the bar steward, sous chef, and more importantly the myconid created by the Supreme Being Blue Planet, only shook his head. “My bar is always open to visitors, on the days that I run it, of course, especially to such courteous gentlemen, so please, take a seat”

A moment later, the tentacle-like roots that made up Clavu's arms pointed to the two seats across from him. And the two, Goemon and Hanzo, made their way to those, neither of them breaking out of the general rhythm of their stride. Then, in a unified motion, they each made their way to the padded seats, each seated opposite the bar.

“What would you like?” Clavu tilted his head slightly, a sign that would be difficult to interpret for those capable of discerning only the emotions of humans. A motion which the two summoned beings instantly identified as a sign of attentive listening from the myconid whose head was a mushroom.

“I would prefer poison, but my Lord has not granted me permission to leave on my own.” Hanzo answered first. “So any drink, the most bitter and alcoholic of all, will do, for I want my body to feel as trashy as my soul.”

“I choose the same option," The Goemon repeated the order, after which he lowered his gaze, or at least tilted his head, since it was virtually impossible to determine the direction of his gaze.

“Hmm, I think I have just the right thing for you," Clavu reached for the first glass for the entrant, "However, such a disposition makes me ask you, gentlemen – what exactly is the sadness that brought you to me?”

“We have made an unforgivable mistake," Each of the two ninjas said at the same time,

"And for that we have been sent to…”

The two ninja beings were silent for a moment, as if each was gathering his strength to utter a curse word, before Hanzo spoke first. “Rest.”

“Oh!” The mikonid's tentacles trembled, as he heard one of the worst fates for the Servant of Nazarick imaginable, the glass in his hands nearly falling to the floor, picked up a moment later. "A tragic fate indeed…”

‘Rest’ was a curse word for all the inhabitants of the Great Tomb of Nazarick - the worst curse of all. It meant the impossibility of fulfilling one's duties, of devoting oneself to the service of the Supreme Beings, of showing one's love, loyalty, and admiration to the Supreme Beings, of fulfilling one's purpose in this world.

Those sent to ‘rest’ were sentenced to an ultimate punishment far surpassing death. For death meant blissful oblivion and a ghostly chance that one day their Lord would call them back into His service, granting them the right to devote themselves to His service. While ‘rest’ meant that the inhabitant of Nazarick was forced to exist, devoid of purpose and meaning for their existence, watching others, blessed with sacred duties and orders, perform their duty.

Truly, it was a torture above a thousand others.

The fact that any of Nazarick's servants received that horrific stigma, ‘rest’, was worthy of regret and a hundred tears. Along with it, a lingering fear as to how it was that the hapless servant of Forty-One had earned such a horrible punishment.

"That is why we wish to forget ourselves in alcohol, so that we do not have to feel this painful feeling," Hanzo replied, and then bowed his head, "Lord Clavu, I beg you!” Goemon repeating his words were the last straw and Clavu could not refrain from nodding back,

"Certainly, gentlemen, at once!”

Clavu turned away for a second mug, beginning to wipe that one down, but a small worm of doubt and deadly curiosity continued to grind at his mind before Clavu gave up. "However, forgive me for being rude, but I just have to wonder what brought you to such a horrible punishment…”

Hanzo and Goemon were silent for a moment, before Hanzo answered first, "I disobeyed an order…” As if in some visceral reaction of disgust, Clavu yanked his tentacles away from the ninja, causing his hands to let go of the mug in his hands, before hurriedly extending them back to catch it.

“I allowed an attack on Lord Momonga!” Goemon howled a moment later, and Clavu, who had reached for the falling glass, felt all strength leave his body, and instead of catching the falling utensil, he collapsed beside it. All he could hear, as if through a pall of mist, were the muffled sound of the broken mug.

Clavu lay like that for a few seconds, slowly trying to come to his senses and realize what had happened. As if trying to convince himself that the words he had heard were only fantasies. Before realizing that he was still lying on the floor of the bar, next to the shards of the broken glass, and realizing that what he had heard was not a dream.

From that moment, Clavu realized how serious the sins of his customers really were, and he feared for his bar and himself. Whether he would incur the wrath of Lord Momonga and a curse on his bar if he allowed these seemingly so noble gentlemen to remain inside.

Indeed, disobeying orders, such a great transgression, deserved only a punishment as great as ‘rest’. But to allow an attack on Lord Momonga, the Last and Greatest Lord of the Supreme Beings… No, such a transgression deserved not even ‘rest’ but ex… ex… exi…!

No, he could not utter that cursed word even in his mind!

A moment later, Clavu’s tentacles quickly opened the utensil drawer, pulling out a second mug for his visitor and no longer caring to wipe it cleaner than it already is. These people needed the strongest, crappiest alcohol that the entire Great Tomb of Nazarick had ever stored… And so did he!

He needed urgently to clear his mind of these words and these thoughts!

The third mug ended up next to the other two, after which Clavu’s light tentacles headed for the very bottom of his liquor cabinet drawer. However, Clavu didn't have time to get the necessary liquor out of his supply before he heard a familiar voice. “Hmm, sous chef, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

“Lord Demiurge!” The sous chef distracted himself from his activities for a moment, if only to respond to his regular visitor. "Please, I don't believe I'm saying this – but I'm afraid this really isn't the best time for you to be here.”

“Hmm, really?” Lord Demiurge, in his usual orange jacket and small glasses on his face, only smiled good-naturedly – the very intense aura he was exuding, made clear that it was all a facade. “I think I heard some words that would make such egress impossible…”

Clavu froze, for the very utterance of such blasphemous and cursed words as ‘to allow an attack on Lord Momonga’ should have carried a punishment commensurate with the blasphemy of the highest caliber. And Clavu understood that his relationship with Lord Demiurge meant nothing in the face of the Supreme Beings and their judgment.

“But before I can answer you gentlemen, I just have to ask you one thing…” Lord Demiurge glanced at the three men at the bar, whereupon they felt themselves pressed into place, pulled and gutted before the eyes of the Seventh Floor Guardian, who was in an infinite rage. His eyes, normally hidden, opened fully, revealing to the world the gaze of two diamonds with countless facets in place of his eyeballs, looking at the world with anger.

“WHO HAS MADE HIMSELF THE EQUAL OF LORD MOMONGA?!” Lord Demiurge's voice seemed to pierce the soul of the listeners, and made them freeze. Unlike last time, when Clavu fell to the ground as soon as he heard the Goemon's words, this time Clavu seemed bereft of strength to even fall. His mind and soul froze in primal, powerless fear at the thought of such an act, then cursed ten thousand times the thought of standing on the same level as the Supreme Beings, their Lord.

“No one, Lord Demiurge!” Hanzo answered first as he was the first to come to his senses, then fell to his knees, "Never! Never! Never! Such great blasphemy, who would dare!?”

A moment later, the Goemon also fell to his knees, and after that, Clavu himself, with his hands folded in a prayerful gesture, denying any possibility of such sacrilege.

After a moment, the hatred and power that the visitors felt from the Floor Guardian vanished, and Lord Demiurge, slightly, adjusted his glasses with a glance at the still kneeling creatures. His anger now slightly abated. “In that case, I suppose I must apologize for my abrupt actions, but I must also correct your misconceptions.”

Moments after the pressure disappeared, the Hanzo and Goemon were able to rise slowly and unsteadily, still staggering slightly from the strength demonstrated by the Floor Guardian. Though the weakest in direct combat of them all, he still possessed power unassailable to the other inhabitants of Nazarick, and so his action caused the three creatures to stagger backwards, still struggling to come to their senses.

“Was 'rest' all Lord Momonga said to you?” Lord Demiurge smiled at the trio, but the glint behind his eye made it clear that a wrong answer was unacceptable. Clavu of course agreed, forgetting a single word from their Lord was unforgivable.

"Or was there something else in His words and actions?”

“He…” Hanzo thought for a moment before he answered. "He… complimented us on our work!”

“And so He did, gentlemen!” Lord Demiurge smiled, as if to convey the obvious through his smile to the denizens of Nazarick, "You have done your part admirably, as He would have wished you to do. Do you really think that anything you could create and do could frustrate His plans? Do you really think you could… Ha-ha, thwart Him?!”

No, of course such a thing was impossible, Clavu instantly realized. For each of the inhabitants of the Great Tomb of Nazarick knew that their Supreme Lord, the Lord of Life and Death, the Head of the Forty-One Supreme Beings, Lord Momonga could make no mistake. For His plans embodied countless all other plans, that they, the denizens of Nazarick, were all, in their originality, merely small pawns on His great playing board. It was impossible for any inhabitant of Nazarick, no, not one at all, to challenge the will and thwart the Supreme Being.

“I see that you are beginning to understand.” Lord Demiurge smiled, then paternally patted the shoulder first of the Hanzo and then of the Goemon.

"You thought you had made a mistake while in fact, you were only doing His will, dancing to His song, unaware that your every movement was incorporated into His great plan. And so because you did His will, He rewarded you,” Lord Demiurge shook his head as if he was looking at the clumsy dance of a child.

“Rewarded you with rest.”

Of course, none of the entire Great Tomb of Nazarick would have allowed themselves to doubt the words of the Supreme Being. But when it came to the words of someone even as highly placed as Lord Demiurge, still infinitely closer to the rest of the inhabitants to the Supreme Being, doubt could arise in interpreting the Supreme Beings’ words. Especially in interpreting ‘rest’, one of the most terrible punishments to which a faithful servant of Forty-One could be subjected to.

Particularly when it was to be taken as a ‘reward’? From these words alone, doubt itself would naturally arise.

“But how can ‘rest’ be a reward? Is it not the greatest suffering to which a loyal servant of a Supreme Being might be subjected to?” Clavu, like the picture perfect of a supplicating believer asking their priest for absolution.

“Haha, yes," Lord Demiurge laughed a little fatherly, "And that is why it is a reward, because it is the Supreme Being who decides what is a reward and what is a punishment. It is by His command that suffering can turn into happiness, and happiness can turn into suffering, for He is the Supreme Being." Demiurge shook his head, as if once again contemplating the Supreme Being’s innumerable sides and admiring each of them,

"Rest is not only suffering, but redemption, for He gives everyone the opportunity to become more than they already are. For rest is His cruel reward for faithful service, the opportunity to use time and one's own suffering to become even better, to become a more suitable instrument of His will, to spend time on one's perfection. For this is His beloved and cruel reward, like a great craftsman, He allows His faithful instruments to be freed from their labor so that each of them may find their new purpose, new powers, new ways to praise Him. Giving forth from their suffering the most beautiful melody that glorifies Him, each move calculated, and each plan laid before His eyes. He may have already predicted that you would go to this bar in failure to understand His thought, and therefore turned reward into punishment. But, by allowing you to learn of His thoughts through my pathetic attempts to understand His words, He has once again turned painful suffering into the greatest reward.”

Lord Demiurge smiled indulgently in ecstasy and looked up to the emblem of Ainz Ooal Gown embroidered on the ceiling, "Truly, for only He determines what is a reward or suffering, for He who is truly worthy to be called the Supreme Being.”

Filled with bile at himself for his disbelief at Lord Demiurge's words, Clavu could only retreat, blurring inwardly, for lack of the right body parts, in a self-deprecating smile. Indeed, how could he have thought that all this was not part of His great plan… Clavu felt dirty for allowing these thoughts to enter his mind and allowing the fact that Lord Momonga's infinite love bestowed upon all of Nazarick, and His infinite wisdom, might have been overridden by the actions of summoned beings.

“Don't be sad, gentlemen.” Lord Demiurge shook his head as he looked warmly on the three, as if looking at his own children. "For your sadness, self-deprecation, and remorse are also only part of His great plan, which we can only comprehend a fraction of what He will reveal to us one day. Even my words are only part of His action, for He has foreseen what has been, is and will be, and your repentance will be the fire that will forge you into the instruments of His exalted will.”

Once again, Clavu could only smile self-deprecatingly, for to be an instrument of the will of the Supreme Being was the main and only purpose of the life of every inhabitant of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. And Lord Momonga was able to grant them this, through a thousand plans and actions anticipating the wishes and prayers of them all… Indeed, only He who is rightly worthy to be called the Supreme Being.

“In that case!” Hanzo was the first to rise from his seat. “Pardon us, Lord Clavu, Lord Demiurge, but I believe that I must begin preparations!”

“And me too!” The Goemon rose from his seat, but Lord Demiurge only smiled at the duo’s actions.

“I think that at least you will have time for one round of drinks, if you have already come to this bar.” Demiurge only smiled a little deeper, as if with his ‘mischievous’ smile all would be revealed.

“For you have understood exactly what your reward is. For understanding what your reward is, I don't think you have anywhere to be in a hurry,”

Lord Demiurge nodded. “After all… You have been given a gift of rest.”

And everyone at the bar nodded at those words.

"Though, I confess…” Said the Lord Demiurge, loosening the ties on his tie, while the smile on his face never changed.

"I confess I've been wondering exactly where His grand design is now taking place or where it’s leading to… But," He nodded at the way Clavu had quickly swept up the remains of the mug he'd broken earlier.

"I do hope that the fallen angel Raynare will wake up soon and reveal this secret to us…”

***

Momonga sneezed unexpectedly, then rubbed his nose a little. "Hmm, so the created body is so real that it is even capable of sneezing… Interesting, but also rather unpleasant. Sneezing makes me momentarily distracted, blink, make a sound and leave traces in the form of droplets of saliva. If someone takes advantage of these factors and hangs some sort of 'dust traps' around themselves… Hmm, maybe I should start wearing my familiar dust and gas mask from the past world? Although, on the other hand, judging from what Nigredo has managed to gather while observing this world – wearing a gas mask is not commonplace here and wearing it would make me stand out… Hmm, how problematic, perhaps I should create a human body, but try to ‘disable’ its ability to sneeze? I wonder if a spell can do that… "

Momonga thought about the limitless experiments he could still pull off with his newfound spell, but dispelled those thoughts immediately. "No, I'm just trying to find myself a distraction now, I've already decided what I need to do, and the longer I put it off, the harder it will be to admit it later… Tabula, I hope your daughter will forgive me!"

Momonga made his way to the Throne Room where, according to the maid found along the way, Albedo was present, trying to distract himself by thinking along the way. "I wonder if she considers the Throne Room her workplace and that is why she is there? I wonder where her private quarters are? I don't remember Tabula prescribing one to her, though I haven't read all the way through her settings, and may well have managed to forget some information in the intervening time… Huh, one of these days I'm going to have to sit down and do a thorough inventory of Nazarick, I can't even remember how many locations we've built in Nazarick… Haaah, things keep piling up and piling up, I feel bad about my plan of just running away from Nazarick to another world. Um, is it the human world, maybe? Is it Earth? I'll have to find out what the worlds of this place are called, so I don't get confused about naming them again."

Momonga made his way to the Throne Room, then froze, becoming timid, as if he was about to enter Albedo's private chambers. Which made no sense, given that he was the ruler of Nazarick and this was his throne room.

"Well, okay, I just need to go in, repent to Albedo for what I've done and endure her first reaction. After that, I can retire to the human world for a while and give Albedo a chance to cool off a bit… Huh, is that what you were talking about, Touch Me?" Momonga suddenly remembered Touch Me's words about how he sometimes came to YGGDRASIL after a fight with his wife to give them both time to cool down and blow off some steam by gutting some enemy. "But Albedo is not my wife… And I don't know how she will feel about me at the end of our conversation."

Momonga thought for a moment, then took another slow breath, exhaled, gathering his strength, and opened the gates to the Throne Room.

Instantly a huge hall appeared before his eyes, huge columns with many flags hung on the sides of the passage leading to the [Throne of Kings] and the Ainz Ooal Gown flag hanging all over the wall. A moment later, Momonga found Albedo standing beside the throne, in fact, she instantly dropped to one knee as Momonga appeared at the entrance to the throne room, and she bowed her head without looking at him.

‘It pains me how much trust they place in me, especially Albedo, and I betrayed it by desecrating Tabula's creation…’ Momonga shook his head, but finding the strength of will, he took a step inside, letting the gates of the throne room close behind him, moving toward Albedo.

The passage leading to the [Throne of Kings] was long enough, and all the time that Momonga walked that way, he heard no sound but his own footsteps, muffled by the expensive carpet laid on the floor. With each step and with each passing second, Momonga felt his nervousness grow as if he were walking toward his executioner. But as he approached Albedo, finally his panic rose to such levels that his acting skill came forward as if it’s expected, allowing Momonga to act as if he were completely unconcerned about what he’s about to do.

“Umu, raise your head and rise from your knees.” Albedo, obeying his words, rose instantly, all the while casting a glowing smile and a bewitching glance at Momonga. The joyful expression put yet another dagger into his non-existent heart – but he still steeled his resolve.

“I must tell you something, Albedo.” He nodded resolutely inwardly, aware that he might be signing his own death warrant, but unable to turn from this road without desecrating the memory of Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Those feelings you have for me… they're not real. “

Albedo, hearing this, blinked in incomprehension, then tilted her head slightly to the side, her expression an image of confusion. "My Lord?”

“Umu, Tabula Smaragdina, your creator, did not prescribe – that is, did not give you these feelings you’re currently feeling for me.” Momonga nodded, feeling the weight that had been hanging there, unknowingly to Momonga himself, slowly begin to fall from his soul,

"Your love for me… Umu, this is what I put in you, I saw in you something that I… Something that I did not like, and therefore I changed it. Forgive me.” Momonga bowed his head to Albedo a moment later, suddenly aware that he was still in the human body that he had chosen to use in the human world. ‘Huh, I didn't even feel it – any body I create feels like mine… I think I need to dispel this body and use my usual Avatar, otherwise it’ll starts to feel like I'm unable to face my mistakes and hide behind someone else's guises, like someone else did it, not me…’

“My Lord, please raise your head!” However, whatever reaction Momonga was expecting to receive, Albedo panicking was not one of them.

“Please, please, raise your head!” A moment later, Albedo found herself on the floor beside Momonga, on her knees, looking into his eyes with panic. “Please!”

“Umu," Momonga lifted his head momentarily, an action that achieved an audible sigh of relief from Albedo.

"Albedo, I have changed you, regarding what you were supposed to be… I apologize for that.”

“Not at all, Lord Momonga!” Albedo instantly rose from her feet, finding herself at his side.

“Lord Tabula was the Supreme Being and my Creator, but I would not trade my feelings for anything else! My Lord, if my feelings don't please you, then I'll…”

“No, no," Momonga almost succumbed to a panic attack when Albedo raised her World Class Item after a moment, pointing it at herself, but the panic attack was drowned out a moment later. Once again, he had to thank his lucky stars that his emotion suppression still works even in his newly created bodies, otherwise he would also be panicking like Albedo.

"Your feelings, ahem… Your feelings don't bother me, I would even say that they please me…” At these words, Albedo shuddered, as if an invisible electric shock went through her whole body.

“But right now, you're not what Tabula made you.” Momonga knew that the NPCs Creators were the most important of all for them, so Albedo couldn't help but feel something when she heard the news. Though for some reason, Momonga saw some disgust in Abbedo’s expression when he mentioned Tabula’s name? It must be just a trick of his new fleshy body.

“Doesn't that bother you?”

“What was I like before?” Albedo smiled as she asked her question and Momonga suddenly stopped speaking, unsure of how he could put what he had read back then, gently.

‘Well of course, naturally, the first thing she would ask in this case is exactly what she has lost…’ Momonga felt some regret for his past action, but most of all vexation that he now has to say some crass words to what effectively is his niece.

‘But… can I say that she was supposed to have been a 'whore'? Tabula, why did your love for the gap-moe generate such conflict!’

“You were different," Momonga finally answered vaguely, averting his gaze, asking another question to mask it.

"Do you think Tabula would approve of my actions?”

“I think that my Creator, Lord Tabula Smaragdina, would be pleased with my feelings with the feeling that he is seeing his daughter off to her wedding, entrusting her to One who can take care of her.” Albedo only smiled at Momonga's question,

"Lord Momonga, if my feelings do not bother you. If… If you even… are in fact pleased with them, then… I don’t mind” At that moment, Albedo flinched, as if she'd been struck by another electric shock, but continued speaking without changing her expression. In fact, is she having a fever right now? Momonga could seen some redness in her face, and in fact her breath was getting shallower by the moment. Their conversation must be taking a great toll on her,

“Ah, no, no, of course yes," Momonga blinked. Huh, he had been preparing for this conversation for so long and gathering his strength for so long, and in the end it was all resolved so easily… Momonga's feelings at that moment were in equal parts relief, from Albedo not ending up trying to kill him, but also regret, from realizing just how much the NPCs trusted him and how much he’s far from their expectation.

‘Huh, I guess my worries about their betrayal really are meaningless after all…’ Momonga shook his head, then looked up at Albedo, who was still staring at him intently, Momonga resolved himself into clearing up this conundrum once and for all.

“Albedo, just in case, you shouldn't feel bad or reluctant to tell me your true feelings, I am ready to apologize in any way I can for what I did to you…”

“Lord Momonga?” Albedo blinked, after which a smile blossomed on her lips. “Ah, in that case, I suppose I could ask you to forgive my rudeness…”

‘Ah, so she did decide to…’ Momonga's further thought was interrupted the moment Albedo grasped the collar of his jacket, the style of which he had spied a little earlier from Issei's uniform. She pulled Momonga forward, before literally thrusting her lips into his, and Momonga's mind seemed to take leave of his body for a moment as Albedo's tongue penetrated his mouth.

His emotions were cleared after a moment, but his inaction came not because of his emotions, but because his brain simply did not know what it needed to do at the moment.

The pleasurable feeling from his tongue spilled over his body, concentrating in his stomach and… going somewhere lower.

Albedo was insistent, clearly trying to taste everything that made up Momonga, but at the same time she did not cross some invisible line beyond which insistence would turn into aggression. Instead, while holding the initiative, she still allowed Momonga to back away at any moment.

And Momonga liked that strange and unfamiliar feeling… Kissing – his first kiss, was not bad at all.

Momonga's experience in love affairs was, naturally, zero – so he did not know what exactly he was supposed to do rationally in the current circumstances. So he did the only thing he could, he trusted his instincts. And so when their tongues touched again, he easily overpowered Albedo, who didn’t actually put up much of a fight, and answered her actions by deepening his kiss, invading Albedo’s mouth.

For a moment, it seemed as if the two of them were entwined in some strange dance that existed only for the two of them. The kiss continued longer and longer, and Momonga completely forgot about breathing, immersed in a strange and so pleasant feeling, as if trying to taste Albedo in her entirety.

His instincts were screaming at him to take hold of Albedo’s hips and continue on, the blood in his brain surging towards his loins. Luckily, before he could do anything further, his rational mind returned, and he pulled away from Albedo, taking a noisy sip of air. Not because he needed it, but as if trying to make the air replace the strange feeling still dancing all over his body.

Albedo pulled away with the same sigh, wandering the walls with her eyes blanketed in a pinkish veil, before taking a sharp breath, then another, and another…

And, with a muffled cry that turned into a groan, she collapsed on her knees, trembling.

Momonga rushed over to Albedo, before he noticed a stain slowly begin to appear on her white dress, about the level of her groin, and her legs glistening in the candelabra light from the droplets left on them. Momonga froze, then swallowed the strange sweet fruity taste still reigning in his mouth and looked away.

‘Well, I suppose now my departure can still be considered an attempt to give Albedo some time to rest a little…’ Momonga shifted his gaze. ‘I'll tell Sebas or maybe Demiurge… Or anyone else, really, about where I'm going. I need to reign myself in before I make another mistake I can’t take back… I’m not ready to be a father yet!’

Albedo, previously trembling finely, seemed able to find the ground beneath her feet and lift her slightly lucid gaze to find Momonga’s eyes. And, once again emitting a muffled, obscene, long and completely indecent moan, she fell to the ground again, trembling even more than before, while the stain on her dress only grew larger.

‘Okay, I'll tell them using [Message]!’ Momonga felt a panic attack begin gathering, before it got muffled by his emotion suppression. Seeing it as the sign that he needed to leave soon, he then sighed and turned around, doing his best not to make it look like he’s running away.

"Well, Albedo, I'm off! [Gate]!”

Momonga had a strange feeling as if he’s supposed to buy some milk or cigarettes after that debacle with Albedo, especially when he’s planning to leave for a long time.

What a strange feeling…