Overlord: STRIKER!

Midgard – 1300 meters southwest of the starting zone

Destruction ruled the landscape.

What was once the proud base of HammerFang was now a desolate crater — colorless, lifeless. Ash blanketed the ground. The clouds hung heavy above the field, painted in a funeral shade of leaden gray. A thick silence prevailed, broken only by screams of terror.

The screams came from the members of the 2ch Alliance, who were being mercilessly slaughtered.

A bluish blur streaked across the battlefield like lightning — each step leaving behind a trail of blue electricity slithering through the cracked earth.

"LEVEL 204... that's impossible!!" shouted one of the warriors before vanishing in a flash, his HP reduced to zero with a single punch. The sound of a sharp impact, followed by the metallic clink of loot hitting the ground, filled the air like a grim death metronome.

Players cried out in desperation, their counterattacks nullified by a flood of debuffs:

[Stunned] – [Slowed] – [Weakened] – [Terror] – [Suppressed]

Ardluc's powerful passive ability, Conqueror's Aura, loomed over them like the crushing presence of an enraged deity. No enchantment or resistance aura seemed capable of mitigating its effects.

Notifications kept flooding the players' HUDs. To everyone there, Ardluc no longer seemed like a player. He felt like a boss. Perhaps even a World Enemy. His fists broke through defenses, ignored armor, and turned blocks to ash. Every hit was a one-shot kill. Every dodge was flawless. He didn't seem to fight — he executed.

The mages with the World Disaster class joined together in one final effort to erase the nightmare.

"[GRAND CATASTROPHE]!" their voices roared in unison.

The sky split apart. A chaotic, flaming energy descended like a divine spear, swallowing Ardluc entirely.

And then… silence.

When the light of the catastrophe faded, their hope shattered like glass. Ardluc remained standing. Unmoving. Unbothered.

Only his ability Royal Guard had been activated — a chain of Perfect Parries that not only nullified the damage but redirected it.

A reverse, invisible explosion surged across the field, and in the blink of an eye, the five mages were flung backward with zero HP, their weapons and equipment falling to the ground and becoming loot. Blue and golden particles marked their deaths.

Now, only two avatars remained standing on the field.

Ardluc... and Dainsreth.

The battlefield was a shining graveyard. Scattered everywhere, Divine-class gear emitted beams of pale golden light, gleaming among the bodies dissolving into drifting data particles. It was a sea of the dead. A massacre.

Dainsreth, on his knees, with his divine black armor damaged, crimson cloak in tatters, and helmet hanging at his waist, leaned on his sword embedded in the ground to stay upright. His HP showed a pitiful 27%.

Meanwhile, Ardluc — even after facing successive reinforcements, over 1500 players — had only lost 20% of his health. And it was already regenerating calmly above his head.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!!" Dainsreth roared, spitting out his hatred. "You… will pay for this. For the humiliation. You think you've won? We're going to hunt you down, you bastard! Every day, every hour, every second! You're not a god! You're just a lucky player!"

He clenched his fist tightly, and an infernal flare erupted around his cloak. "I'll crush you, even if it's the last thing I do!"

Ardluc, who had been walking toward Dainsreth, stopped a few steps away. He sighed, glancing at his right hand, where Barolg rested, clenching it briefly.

When he opened it again, his voice came low, but sharp as cold steel:

"So much anger... from someone who couldn't even scratch me." He muttered to himself. "I'm... pathetic."

And then, a single punch was thrown — so fast it was nothing but a blur.

It wasn't a flashy move, not a skill, not a special technique. Just a direct punch — simple but clean. The Beowulf gauntlet glowed with compressed blue energy at the moment of impact, and Dainsreth's avatar was obliterated as if he had never existed. Only white and crimson particles remained, drifting in the air like the ashes of burned pride.

The battlefield returned to silence.

Ardluc stood still, watching the digital remnants of the enemy leader fade away.

The silence that fell over the battlefield was different from before. Ardluc remained standing there for long seconds, observing the ground filled with fallen weapons, armor, outfits, and artifacts. But his eyes weren't looking for those. They were searching for something that wasn't there... or perhaps never would be again.

His feet slowly guided him to the center of what used to be Hammerfang's base.

Kneeling down, he placed his hand on the lifeless ground, and a memory surfaced.

He was laughing beside them.

Someone opened a bottle of drink that was a cash item. Another summoned fireworks.

The guild members, his friends, all together, celebrating the completion of Hammerfang's base. It was an achievement. The symbol of each one's hard work.

But more than that, it was a shared memory. A moment of pure and unique happiness.

A tired smile escaped his lips. But it had a bitter taste.

"No matter what I've achieved... the emptiness remains the same...," he murmured, voice low and intimate, as if confessing something to the world itself, "…what's the point of all this, when I have no one left to share it with?"

He stood up, slowly.

His eyes turned to his own hands. The Barolg and Beowulf gauntlets still shimmered. Relics. The pride of the guild. Weapons of the Hammerfang guild.

"At least I still have this…," he whispered.

Even if the guild base had been reduced to dust, even if the halls lay in ruins and the member list only showed [Offline] or [Disconnected]... as long as the guild weapon remained intact, Hammerfang still existed.

"You all used to laugh when I said I wanted to punch the sky..." he said with a light chuckle, remembering the friendly teasing. "And now... look where I've gotten..."

His brown eyes sparkled, turning into a bright blue shade activated by Beowulf. A cosmetic effect he had paid for with real money just because he thought it looked cool. Some said it was pointless. But to him, it was part of his identity.

"As long as I breathe here... Hammerfang isn't over."

But just as he was about to log out, two [Gate] spells appeared behind him. Groups arrived on the field: World Searcher and Seraphin, recently transferred from the European server after hearing about the 2ch Alliance attack. The scene left them speechless. Loot scattered, landscape devastated, and in the middle of it all... Ardluc.

Yuuto turned as he noticed their approach. His blue-glowing gaze cut through the air with coldness.

"More reinforcements from the 2ch Alliance?" he muttered aloud. "I'm so done with this... one after the other."

Jadewatch stepped forward, but Lady Celestia was faster, her six white wings elegantly unfolding.

"We are not enemies!" she declared, her voice melodious and noble. "We have no connection to the 2ch Alliance! We came to help, but it seems the help wasn't needed…"

Murmurs rose among the guild members.

"He defeated everyone alone?"

"How many 2ch players were even here?"

"This doesn't seem real…"

Jadewatch joined Celestia.

"I'm the leader of World Searcher. I promise we didn't come with bad intentions. We only came to offer support."

But Yuuto just stared at them in silence. He didn't understand English. The flood of words was just an irritating buzz. And then, he exploded:

"Urusai na! Can't you all just leave already?! I'm having a moment of reflection here!"

The shout in Japanese cut through the silence like a blade, surprising everyone. But what truly shocked the leaders was what appeared above Ardluc's head:

[Ardluc – Level 204 – Ascendant God]

Jadewatch widened his eyes.

— How is this possible... he broke the level cap?

Lady Celestia, on the other hand, looked thrilled, almost like a child witnessing a miracle. Her wings fluttered, particles of light sprinkling into the air.

"I knew it! He really has a divine nature race!" she whispered to herself, moved that her theory about Ardluc's divine race had been confirmed. The members of her guild looked surprised by her spontaneous and almost childlike reaction, which she quickly composed herself from.

That's when 4rtemis, the chief secretary of World Searcher, arrived in a rush beside Jadewatch.

"Leave it to me," she said with a gentle smile. "I have a master's degree in Japanese... miraculously."

She stepped forward and introduced herself with elegance, translating the guilds' intentions. Yuuto listened, his eyes remaining cold.

"I understand... but as you can see, I don't need help." he responded dryly.

An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air. Jadewatch gestured for 4rtemis to convey another message... but before she could speak, an attack tore through the air.

ZRAAAASH!

A spell sliced the air as it shot toward Ardluc — [Reality Slash], one of the game's most devastating pure damage spells. It had been cast from within the group, causing instant chaos.

The culprit was an infiltrated magic caster from the 2ch Alliance, disguised among the allies. He had received direct orders from the guild master to attack Ardluc at all costs.

But... he never stood a chance. No one did.

Ardluc intercepted the attack with his left arm, and at the moment of impact, his face slowly appeared above his arm like a shadow. His expression was pure irritation.

"Tsk... I've had enough of this shit."

[Perfect Parry executed]

[Skill: Fury Burst — Activated]

The Reality Slash wasn't just nullified — its energy was converted and reflected. But this wasn't a simple counter.

Ever since evolving into Ascendant God, Ardluc had received a bunch of new skills and upgrades. One of those upgrades was a new passive for Royal Guard, which was:

If the user maintains 3 full Fury charges for 5 consecutive minutes without using them, the next Perfect Parry automatically triggers a new effect: a Shockwave that converts 100% of accumulated damage into a devastating counterattack, multiplied by 2400%, with a 100-meter radius.

And the impact was absolute.

A shockwave burst from him, as if the air itself bowed to his will. In an instant, all players present — ally or not — were struck. Their avatars exploded into shining particles, their HPs zeroed out with a single blow.

The field was left empty, filled only with glittering loot and death messages in the feed. Ardluc remained standing, letting out a heavy sigh as he observed the devastated scene.

"...They attacked first."

With nothing else to say, he opened the menu, selected "Logout," and vanished in a beam of blue light.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♦♦♦

Water was still dripping from his freshly washed hair as Yuuto stepped out of the bathroom, feeling the invigorating freshness of the shower. His footsteps echoed through the silent apartment, now very different from the filthy, cluttered cubicle he had awakened in years ago. His new home was spacious, with a modern and elegant design, embedded LED lights, polished flooring, and minimalist decor of exquisite taste. The aroma of fresh coffee began to fill the air as he, dressed in casual clothes and with a trimmed beard, made his way to the kitchen.

With a tap on his wristwatch, a holographic screen appeared, displaying headlines and posts from the real and digital world. His eyes scanned the titles, but they all seemed like variations of the same social rot he had already grown used to. Political corruption, environmental crises, corporate scandals… "Nothing changes," he muttered with a tired sigh, taking the first sip of his coffee.

However, his eyes widened when a notification popped up from a YGGDRASIL digital gossip network. The image was blurry, captured from a distance, but enough for Yuuto to recognize... his own avatar.

"Level 204 player defeats over 1700 members of the 2ch Alliance guild alone."

The headline sounded so surreal that he frowned. The article was a compilation of everything users had managed to gather about him — his player name, class, skills used, and even theories about the origin of the "unknown" guild he supposedly represented.

Yuuto pouted at that.

"Small and irrelevant guild... tsk, we just didn't sell ourselves like the others. That doesn't mean we were trash."

He scrolled down the screen with his finger, mentally growling at every hasty judgment, until another article caught his attention.

"Eight major guilds invade the Great Tomb of Nazarick with over 1500 players and hired NPCs — and fail."

Yuuto's eyes widened, the headline was too bold to ignore.

"The target guild won…?"

His interest was immediate. Nazarick... that name echoed in his mind. He had heard of the Tomb of Nazarick, of course, it was the home of the legendary guild Ainz Ooal Gown. But there was something more... something personal.

"Ainz… Ainz-sama… Ainz Ooal Gown-dono…"

The words echoed in his head with the nostalgic voice of Kenta, his old coworker and friend, chattering during breaks at the crappy job they shared. Kenta was obsessed with Overlord and constantly talked about the novel, the characters, the events, the NPCs…

Yuuto shook his head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

"It must be a coincidence… Anyone can use that name in-game."

But the curiosity was already throbbing like an unhealed wound.

He accessed the public database of historic players and went straight to the Ainz Ooal Gown guild page. The names began to scroll: Ulbert Alain Odle, Peroroncino, Warrior Takemikazuchi… and then…

Momonga.

The name pierced his eyes like a blade. Alongside the image of the avatar — a hooded skeleton with burning crimson eyes.

Yuuto felt a chill run down his spine.

"No… it can't be…"

The memories of Kenta came rushing back. He remembered every word. The praises for Momonga. The criticism for being too inhuman in his decisions. The laments when he finished reading the volumes. The daydreams about what would happen if he were in a world like that.

He stopped. The coffee mug slipped from his hand, shattering on the kitchen floor.

Shards scattered like fragments of his own past.

The memory of his death hit him, he remembered turning his head in the final second on his deathbed, beside him, the volume of Overlord stained with his blood.

Yuuto brought one hand to his mouth, as if trying to stop the words that were about to escape.

But it was too late.

"I wasn't reincarnated into just any shitty world… I was thrown into Kenta's stupid novel world!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♦♦♦

Great Tomb of Nazarick – Round Table Room

A heavy silence filled the hall adorned with black columns, crests, and tapestries bearing the emblem of the Ainz Ooal Gown guild. The light of the floating flames flickered gently, reflecting off the polished metal of Touch Me's imposing platinum armor, who stood tall beside the central throne. His eyes were hidden beneath his helmet, but the tone of his voice revealed a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

"That was close..." murmured Momonga with his deep, cavernous voice. "If the 8th Floor hadn't been designed as a supreme trap, the guild would no longer be standing. Some of the Floor Guardians were killed during the attack."

Touch Me nodded, his crimson cape swaying gently.

"I agree. We were lucky you and Tabula were online and could call the others." His eyes, hidden by the helmet, watched the table. "Five guilds among the attackers were our old enemies. Seems old grudges still fester among them."

Momonga sighed, despite having no lungs. An empty gesture, yet full of meaning.

"The Iron Solstice guild always accused us of stealing Nazarick from them. We conquered it legitimately. If they didn't know how to deal with the dungeon's challenges, that's not our fault." He paused. "But to attack when almost all of us were offline... cowards."

Touch Me clenched his fist, his armor emitting a faint glow as if echoing his indignation.

"Attacking an empty home is never a victory. But..." he raised his head. "At least it served as a test. The eighth floor proved to be impenetrable, even for fifteen hundred players."

At that moment, a teleportation flash lit up the center of the room. A vortex of black leaves spun in the air, dissipating to reveal the unusual figure of Punitto Moe. His body, an amalgamation of pulsing vines and mystical moss, moved calmly. Over his vegetal form rested a ceremonial cloak adorned with ancient runes.

"Hmpf, you always gather without me for the best discussions," he said in a calm but sarcastic tone.

"Punitto Moe-san!" exclaimed Momonga, the glow in his eyes intensifying for a moment. "Did you see the message I sent?"

"I did, and I admit I had to read it three times before believing it. But the most surprising thing isn't even the attack on Nazarick right now..." he said, summoning his player interface with an elegant gesture. "...it's this."

With a wave of his hand, Punitto Moe brought up a system window with the highlighted topics from YGGDRASIL's global forum.

Touch Me's eyes widened slightly inside the helmet. Momonga abruptly stood up, his long robe swaying with the cosmetic effect [Despair Aura].

"Level 204...?!" he repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah, completely above the general cap of 100. And it seems he's the one who consumed the Lost Seed of Yggdrasil..." said Punitto Moe, his vines stirring softly. "Remember what I told you? That the Seed might be even stronger than World Items?"

Momonga brought a hand to his skeletal chin, the crimson orb beneath his ribs pulsing slowly.

"Seeds tend to have infinite potential... But wiping out more than 1,700 members of the 2ch Alliance? Isn't that fake?"

"It's real," Moe confirmed coldly. "Over 1,700 players, including elites, were defeated by him in open field. Data confirmed by multiple recordings and testimonies. Also, the 2ch Alliance has placed a bounty on Ardluc's head for anyone who kills him in-game."

A sepulchral silence fell over the hall. For the first time in a long while... Momonga and Touch Me were genuinely surprised.

"Ascending God... a new racial class. All of this seems like an exaggeration along with the power level gained, but exaggeration is already a normal thing in YGGDRASIL."

Punitto Moe closed the interface with a firm motion.

"Powercreep has practically become a feature of the game. Not much to be done about it."

Momonga let out an audible sigh, sitting back down.

"Just when I thought the guild was finally going to get decent spotlight after the invasion..."

Touch Me stood with arms crossed, staring at the system window he had opened, a curious glint in his eyes. Momonga, noticing the shift in his friend, called out.

"Touch-san... is everything alright?"

"Hmm...? Ah, yes. I was just... reflecting," he replied, almost cheerfully. "Just imagine… someone like Ardluc in Ainz Ooal Gown. With that strength, that style... he's practically a monster on the field."

Momonga and Punitto Moe exchanged a glance.

"Monster or not, we still don't know if his race is heteromorphic," Momonga retorted seriously. "We can't make exceptions. You know the guild only accepts heteromorphic members. It's our identity."

Punitto Moe nodded, calmly fiddling with the interface.

"Besides, did you see the message explosion on the forums? I bet that guy's getting more invites than the system can handle. And having someone like him here would be... suffocating. What if he's the type who only acts out of self-interest? What if he betrays us?"

Momonga crossed his arms, agreeing with a restrained sigh.

"Exactly. Power at that level is unstable for us to control. We can't be rash..."

"Done. I sent it," said Touch Me casually, as if he had just mentioned he went to buy bread.

Momonga blinked slowly. Punitto Moe froze mid-branch movement on the interface. The two slowly turned to Touch Me, who now wore a slight smile under his helmet.

"What do you mean sent it?" asked Momonga, his voice faltering slightly.

"A message, of course. Asking if he has a heteromorphic race and if he'd like to join our guild. I think he'll like our moral code," he said proudly.

"Touch Me!" Momonga stood up abruptly. "You... you did that without consulting anyone! Remember when you were the guild leader? You used to lecture us about acting on impulse! And now you send an invite to a complete stranger who literally blew up seventeen hundred people in a public square?!"

"That's kind of prejudiced," Touch Me replied with a childlike tone. "I blew up a bunch of people once too. It was fair PvP."

Punitto Moe raised his "hands" in a conciliatory gesture.

"Calm down, calm down. His message was probably buried under tons of DMs and spam by now. Relax, Momonga. The chance of a reply is practically zero."

DING!

A notification sound echoed through the hall. The three froze. Slowly, the eyes of Momonga and Moe turned to Touch Me, who, with all the calm in the world, rotated the holographic interface toward them.

"He replied... He said: 'Sure. My race is heteromorphic.'"

"..."

"...WHAT?!!"

"Well... Looks like Ardluc is now the official new candidate for Ainz Ooal Gown guild member."