Within the Throne of Kings, Momonga sat alone by the stairs. He watched the hovering Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown beside him, and then at the throne. His mind was in turmoil— "Hmmm… I don't like this…"
The emotions in his non-existent heart continued to pour in, worming their way into every crevice of his imagination. "The Spectre was incredibly strong, and I had let him kill my precious family…" He stood up, and with hate, he kicked the throne reserved for the Guild Master of Ainz Ooal Gown.
Of course, the throne remained intact.
The Emotion Suppressors were doing little to suppress his rage. Momonga looked: at the dead corpse of Albedo with white cracks spreading through her skin, at the petrified stone-like visage of Demiurge with veins of lava, and then at Shalltear's ash carefully placed within a jar.
Again, rage enveloped Momonga. He punched the pillar beside him, but with his Strength Stats as a magic caster and with the predominant rules in place, it did little to damage the pillar let alone shake the floor. However, shockwaves were produced every time Momonga threw a punch. Though just a magic caster, Momonga was still a Maxed Level 100 Magic Caster.
The gates for the Throne Room opened, and appearing from there was Pandora's Actor. "My Fuhrer!" He said and then stopped, noticing Momonga's unbridled bloodlust. "Uuhmm… Apologies…" Pandora's Actor added.
Pandora's Actor even with a naturally silly personality could not bring himself to act faithfully by his 'Character Settings' given the sight of his creator. And because Momonga felt miserable, Pandora's Actor felt miserable too.
"Apologies for showing you such a miserable sight, Pandora's Actor." Momonga finally calmed down and sat on his throne.
Pandora's Actor taking this as a cue for him, began with an elegant bow, "I have come to be of service to you, My Lord Fuhrer! I came here with utmost haste after I learned of your calling upon me."
"Fuhrer? No. Just address me like how the others would," Momonga did his best to appear calm. "Hmmm… just address me as Momon— no, never mind… Did you bring it?"
"Yes, all of the gold that you have requested is here in my inventory," At his answer, gold coins unique to Yggdrasil began pouring from where Pandora's Actor stood.
"With this amount, it should be possible to resurrect them via the Guild Function." Momonga nodded at the sight of gold pouring out from Pandora's Actor.
Quickly piles and piles of gold gathered, and there were millions of them— each genuine gold coin unique to Yggdrasil. This was Momonga's first time to see face to face an actual gold pile, so he was awed by the sight of it, but his Emotion Suppressors quickly kicked in.
As an Undead, he had biologically become incapable of feeling emotions, but he was not entirely emotionless as evidenced by the anger that continued to pulse within him.
Though his humanity would strongly hold to his obsessions and what remained of his essence as a person, he in fact had ceased being a human the moment he had come to this body.
Without further ado, Momonga proceeded to resurrect the NPCs— Albedo, Demiurge, and Shalltear.
Pandora's Actor continued to pour the mountain of gold onto the floor of the Throne Room, creating a dazzling display of wealth. Momonga gazed at the piles of gold with a mixture of awe and detachment, his emotions kept in check by the intangible Emotional Suppressors that maintained his calm.
With a wave of his hand, Momonga signaled for Pandora's Actor to stop. "That's enough," he said, his voice calm and controlled. "Now, let's bring them back."
Pandora's Actor nodded and stopped.
Momonga approached the lifeless bodies of Albedo, Demiurge, and then the jar of Shalltear's ash. With a theatrical flourish of the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, he activated the Guild Function with a thought, and a soft glow enveloped each fallen NPC. Momonga watched intently as the magical process unfolded.
As the light subsided, the once lifeless bodies now stirred. Albedo's cracked skin healed, and color returned to her complexion. Demiurge's petrified form softened, and veins of lava receded. Shalltear's jar of ash began to vibrate, and a new, whole form emerged from it swallowing the jar along the process.
The three NPCs blinked, disoriented as if just waking up from a deep slumber. Momonga's non-existent heart felt a twinge of relief. "Welcome back, my loyal guardians," he greeted them, his tone a mix of formality and genuine care.
Albedo, Demiurge, and Shalltear looked around, registering their surroundings. Albedo, ever devoted, immediately knelt before Momonga. "My Lord, I am at your service," she declared with unwavering loyalty.
Demiurge and Shalltear followed suit, expressing their allegiance to their Supreme Overlord. Momonga acknowledged their loyalty with a nod. "Rise, my friends. We have much to discuss. Moreover, I have to apologize for failing all of you."
Momonga then proceeded to Albedo, dragged her to Demiurge, and then to Shalltear. With his strong arms, he then hugged all three of them. "I am sorry, I truly am…"
"Please, My Lord…" cried Shalltear weakly.
"…Do not, Supreme One." gritted Demiurge's teeth in self-reproach.
"We don't deserve this," uttered Albedo softly.
The trio stood still, trapped within Momonga's embrace, and then his gaze shifted to Pandora's Actor. "You have done well. I appreciate your swift response," Momonga commended with heartfelt appreciation.
Pandora's Actor beamed with pride, as he walked to them… he also joined in the hug, his form hugging Momonga, it seemed comical, but Momonga left him be.
As the atmosphere in the Throne Room began to stabilize, Momonga couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. "Never again would I allow death to ever deny me… Mark my words."
There and then… Momonga had decided… He was not to be 'Momonga' any longer, but become— Ainz Ooal Gown with finality and surety. If he wanted to survive in this world with his precious friends' memories, he had to represent it proudly, and he must have the resolve to see through it.
"Hear this, my Guardians. From henceforth, I shall be known as Ainz Ooal Gown. Spread the word for I have decided— Nazarick is my everything— thus I have chosen to stay."
The One That Stayed… that had a rather nice and bittersweet ring to it.
John Constantine lit himself a new cig as he reclined on the super comfy sofa, "Agh, that hits the spot…" He puffed one, two, and then three. "This shouldn't get worse, isn't it, luv?"
With a wry smile, he looked up at the maid exuding equally powerful magic. "Say, where is your master now? I'd rather be done with it." Aesthetic-wise, the 'woman' more than a 'maid' looked pleasant to the eyes almost on par with Zatanna… and John couldn't help but worry for Zatanna though she was not here.
"You don't get to address the Supreme One so casually, you worm," answered the woman. She had dark raven hair, fair milky white skin, and oriental features. "Behave yourself if you wish for your head to remain intact, you plebeian scum."
John took another drag of his cigarette, unfazed by the maid's disdain. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and chuckled, "Ah, love, no need for name-calling. Just trying to make the end of the world a bit more enjoyable, you know?"
The maid scowled, her eyes narrowing. "You think this is a joke, human scum? The Supreme One's power far surpasses your comprehension. You are smug, yes, and there is an air of confidence in you, but I can see through you— you are just an arrogant ignoramus thinking he could benefit out of this."
John raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Oh, I'm well aware of the stakes, sweetheart. But no harm in trying to keep the mood light, is there?" He tapped the ashes off his cigarette, glancing around the opulent room. "I really don't understand why you have to be pissed. Your master had killed my precious friend, and here I am, putting in the effort to be cordial. Your way over in your head."
The maid, still radiating an aura of magical potency, crossed her arms. "…" Though not a word had been said, her face seemed to say 'We'll see about that.'
John leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, until the big bad boss arrives, care to share a few secrets, darling? What's the endgame here, and how does your Master… er.. The Supreme One fit into all of this?"
The maid's lips curled into a sinister smile. "You're in no position to make demands, mortal. But I suppose a little entertainment before your demise won't hurt." She paced around the room, her steps echoing with an otherworldly grace. "Hmmm… If you want to learn secrets then I supposed, I wouldn't mind."
As John continued to smoke, he listened and watched intently, his nonchalant demeanor masking a keen interest. The maid began to sit before him on the other end of the sofa.
"What is it that you wish to ask?" Her question was direct.
John grinned, flicking the cigarette butt onto an ornate ashtray set on the table. "Just one, love. Your name… and also the others— that big blue bug, those two children, what else? Ah, those who got themselves killed by my friend… Spectre sure didn't pull any punches… The one with the glasses, that vampire shorty, and then that succubus…"
The way he asked sounded malicious and this was a form of test on his part… to check whether he'd be left alive or dead after he was finished with his business. Within a blink of an eye, the maid stood before John as if she teleported.
A golden staff plated with silver hovered just above John's eye, and its wielder, the maid shook in fury very reluctant about not being able to take his life. "You are fortunate that I have been vocally given orders to not take your life."
As such, the maid withdrew the staff, and walked out, leaving John on his own, alone in the room.
John calmed his heart at the maid's explosive outburst, and when the maid was finally gone, he then exhaled with relief for surviving the ire of the maid. One thing he learned from that interaction was that they wouldn't kill him anytime soon.
"Oof…" John looked at the ceiling, his thoughts were in a whirlwind of chaos. "You wouldn't mind giving me a bit of privacy, don't ya? I'd like a time for myself… alone."
Appearing from the shades of the lamp was Sebas. "Apologies, but I have to stay and watch over you. It is impressive that you are able to detect me. Though I may not look like it, I am fairly confident with my abilities."
"I am a detective on top of being a mystic. That maid, she seems to possess great hate towards me. And she seems to really want to kill me. I don't see any reason why she cannot. Then I thought of you— it is obvious, really— she is a maid and you are a butler. If she chooses to not kill me, then that means her direct superior must be watching."
John's words were confident, and he had deduced right.
Sebas nodded appreciatively of John's answer. "You have impressive wit. Since you so graciously answered my query, then I'd like to give you some advice."
"Go on," John clicked his tongue as he realized he just finished his cig, so he took another one.
Sebas genially gave his advice, but his words were nothing but vicious. "Everyone within the walls of Nazarick would want you dead. So for your safety, I advise you to stay in this room. I am not exactly here to oversee you, but to protect you… Your friend, Spectre had left quite an… impact, and the denizens of Nazarick were not fond of what he did."
"When could I meet your master again?" John asked impatiently, "There is a Cosmic-scale contract in me he promised to give his signature to. I wouldn't have all day. I am a busy person after all. If he didn't want the contract, then I'd just go."
"Are you sure you want to go?" Sebas was calm, and unmoving like a mountain as if John's words wouldn't matter to him. "Excuse me for a second," He added as he pressed his index and middle fingers on his temple. "My Lord, I see…"
John continued looking around with his eyes alone, checking up the artifacts casually sprawled within the room. They were all at the level of artifacts, but in this room, they were mere furniture. This would speak strongly of the amount of wealth that Ainz Ooal Gown could wield.
Sebas addressed John after his communication to John assumed to be Ainz himself. "My Lordship, the Master, the Supreme One had given his word, he was to meet you shortly ten to fifteen minutes later. I hope that satisfies you, Mr. Constantine."
"What is the meaning of this, Pestonya!?" Aura shouted at the Head Maid who stood by the door.
Calmly, Pestonya calmed down the angry Aura, "I had been given explicit orders by Mr. Sebas to ensure you stay in this room, Lady Aura, as such, I apologize… woof…" Pestonya's head was that of a Shetland Sheepdog, that's why to most, it would be difficult to detect her facial expressions.
But Aura was a High Tamer, as a result, to a great extent, she could read Pestonya's facial expressions as clearly as day. "Do you think, you can stop me? That human dirt still lives, and I want him dead— minced and fed to the dogs." Aura's words were dripping with violence.
Mare cowering from one corner, and holding his staff with rather an intense grip, explodes in fury, "Pestonya! Let us out! Or else…"
Appearing from the door where Pestonya was barring was the familiar figure of Shalltear, she pushed open the door causing Pestonya to move and give way to Shalltear's sudden arrival.
"What is this ruckus all about?" Shalltear began, her delicate eyebrows forming into a frown.
"You are alive!" Aura propelled forward, hugging Shalltear. Mare followed suit and joined the hugging. Pestonya simply watched, faithful to her duties as a maid.
"Of course, I am alive, silly…" Shalltear grinned. "The Supreme One had powers beyond reason and to bask in his love was more than enough to resurrect me from the ash!"
"Eh?" Mare innocently remarked, "You didn't get resurrected through the Guild Function? Wait, I thought that's what happened?"
Shalltear blushed, "Please, just allow me with my fantasies, Mare…"
"But I still wanted to kill that human," Aura remarked, her fist shaking with fury.
Shalltear didn't expect Aura to be angry on her behalf, and this somewhat made her feel fluffy on the inside which was weird, considering that she was supposed to be annoyed with Aura.
Mare added, killing intent also evident in his eyes, "Yeah, I think I would want to kill him too." He added with his trademark innocent voice intermixed with contradictory savagery. "Yeah, the human should be punished for hurting my friends. I can't just stand by and do nothing!"
Shalltear hummed softly, "No need, Lord Momonga, no… Lord Ainz had given his orders. We are not to interfere and simply stand by. The Supreme One had plans already for the human." She smiled wickedly, her cheeks transforming into an aroused pink.
Sitting opposite him was Ainz fitted snugly on the sofa— the looming giant of a skeleton simply sat there, waiting for John to begin with the conversation at hand.
John Constantine was a detective more than a mystic, and he had done lots of deals on behalf of his clients. That's why he was too aware that there was definitely something wrong going on, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what. "This is the contract. On the basis that Party A had defeated Party B in a fair fight, then Party A was to receive the 'perks' of the Spectre— abilities, powers, and every asset the Spectre had in possession. There are subcomponents there, detailing what kind of perks would you receive. Also, please note that once you accept the terms of the contract, you have to step in as the new Spectre."
"You don't mind me reading this, don't you?" Ainz cordially asked as he took the paper.
John nodded, leaning back in his chair as he watched Ainz carefully peruse the contract. The air in the room seemed to shift, charged with an otherworldly tension. Ainz's bony fingers traced the words on the paper, his empty eye sockets giving off an eerie sense of focus.
Ainz's skeletal visage remained unreadable, but John could sense the gravity of the situation. Dealing with mystical entities was never a walk in the park, and the Spectre was no exception.
"Well, well," Ainz remarked, his voice echoing with an otherworldly resonance. "Quite the binding agreement you've got here. Defeat in a fair fight, perks, powers, and the whole shebang. Interesting."
John lit a cigarette, the smoke curling lazily in the air. "Yeah, interesting is one way to put it. But the devil, or in this case, the skeleton, is in the details. You'll find the subcomponents there, laying out exactly what you're getting."
Ainz continued to read, his skeletal hands flipping through the pages with an unnatural grace. "Accept the terms, become the new Spectre. That's the deal, isn't it?"
John smirked. "You've got a keen eye, Lord Ainz. Not every supernatural being bothers with the fine print."
Ainz chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down John's spine. "I appreciate the thoroughness. It's a trait we share, Mr. Constantine. So don't get me wrong. I am very and fully aware that this contract is a trap, a method to restrain me. The Spectre was an existence bound with the sacred duty of punishing the wicked. This would limit me to an unimaginable extent considering that I prefer defining wicked in ways I prefer… my ways. And not by ways imposed by an unseen rule, enforced by an unseen god, and structured in such a way that would make me but a slave to the whims of the universe."
"Do I take it that you—" John began sweating. "decline the contract?"
As the room hung in a momentary silence, Ainz finally lowered the contract. His red pinpoints of light, where eyes should be, met John's gaze. "No. I accept. I will sign." Thus, Ainz summoned a pen and immediately signed his name on the contract.
John raised an eyebrow. "You sure about this? Once you step into those spectral shoes, there's no turning back." The nagging feeling at the back of his mind continued to bother him, thus he asked hoping to gleam on what was wrong.
Ainz nodded solemnly. "I understand the consequences. But power, true power, is worth the risk."
With that, the deal was sealed, and the room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. John couldn't shake the feeling that, in making this contract, they had unleashed forces far beyond their understanding. But John did his best. He thought he did his best.
"This power is too great for anyone to wield, and that's why it is better for Nazarick to have it."
Seemingly out of nowhere, Ainz's bones began to melt. "Hmmm… for becoming the Spectre, I now have the powers of Cosmic Awareness, ah, I see… It won't necessarily turn me Omniscient but simply allows me access to information to a greater whole. What else? Ahh, I definitely have to experiment with this Divine Judgement and Reality Manipulation… I cannot believe there are actually other beings out there who have powers in the same capacity as the Spectre."
"W-who are you?" John panicked, his voice an echo of self-doubt. He picked up the contract to which in the signee, an unfamiliar name was written. It read— Pandora's Actor. Then it clicked to John, he didn't see the trademark Staff that Ainz seemed to always carry with him.
Appearing from John's opposite was an egghead with no facial expression except three holes protruding from his face. He was dressed in a yellow Neo-Nazi-esque uniform. This was none other than Pandora's Actor. "Apologies, Mr. Constantine. You have been conned."
"…" John blanched as the doors opened and entering from the room was none other than the real Ainz Ooal Gown, in his grip was the familiar Staff that missed John's observation. John Constantine came to a quick understanding that to Gown, Spectre's powers were not as appealing as the freedom to do whatever Gown wanted to do.
Pandora's Actor stood up, allowing Ainz to sit on the sofa.
"I have made you wait," Ainz thumped his staff, establishing his presence over the room. "I wouldn't know about your friend, Spectre's intentions, and I wouldn't care." And then Ainz proceeded to slide a piece of paper to John.
"What's this?" John gulped, realizing that he couldn't maintain his usual streak of bravado.
"This is a contract for apprenticeship. I want you, John Constantine. Devote yourself to me, and I shall save all of humanity." Such grand words came from Ainz, and this made John frown, returning him to his sarcastic groove.
John stared at the contract in disbelief, his mind racing to make sense of the unexpected turn of events.
"You've got to be joking," John retorted, a mixture of frustration and confusion evident in his voice. "First, you pull this shapeshifting stunt, and now you want me as an apprentice? What's your game, Ainz Ooal Gown?"
Ainz, still seated on the sofa, leaned back, his skeletal fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. "I find your skills intriguing, Mr. Constantine. The Spectre's powers may not be to my liking, but your brand of mysticism has its own appeal. I see potential in you. Join me, and together, we can reshape the world."
John scoffed, a cynical smile playing on his lips. "Reshape the world? You sound like a bloody megalomaniac. What's in it for you, Ainz?"
The undead overlord's crimson pinpoints flickered with a peculiar intensity. "I seek peace, Constantine. Let me explain it in a way that you can understand. I have a special ability, an immutable spell called Dark Wisdom. It is a magic that would allow me to learn the magic of the creature I had felled through a sacrificial ritual. What is magic exactly? That was too profound of a question, but know this, when I had sacrificed the Spectre, I had acquired its 'magic', and understand this… I now also possess the same 'Cosmic Awareness' that the Spectre once had. And that's why I have become too profoundly aware of just how vast the universe truly is. Existences like Darkseid and Trigon would be a liability for the Peace I so desperately seek."
John's eyes narrowed as he considered the latter's words. The room felt charged with an air of uncertainty, and the stakes seemed higher than ever. He took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he weighed his options.
"I don't like this," John finally responded, his tone measured. "Don't give me the 'save humanity' spiel. I've heard it all before. I don't know about the perspectives of gods. I don't know about you. But what do you need from me?"
Ainz chuckled, the sound echoing through the room like a distant storm. "Nothing."
"You are asking the wrong question, John Constantine. It is not that I have a 'need' from you, but a certain 'want', this had been the Spectre's motivations all along as to why he had dragged you to me."
John's eyes darted between Ainz and the contract on the table. The gravity of the decision weighed on him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the path ahead was fraught with peril.
"Fine," John sighed, stubbing out his cigarette. "But let's get one thing straight. I'm no one's lackey. I'll play along for now, but the moment I smell you going against your word, I'm out. Understood?" Without hesitation, John penned his name on the contract.
This must be it. John came to realize this 'moment' must have been what the Spectre was gunning on. John recalled the Spectre's words to him. "Someone who understands the shades of gray, the intricate dance between good and evil." John needed to be that 'Someone', and no matter how black the grass was in this fence, he would die trying to make it gray.
Ainz extended his bony hand, a skeletal grin forming on his face. "Understood, Mr. Constantine. Let this be the beginning of our eternal friendship, and for the peaceful era to follow."
Suzuki Satoru, Momonga, and now Ainz Ooal Gown.
Ainz returned to his bedchamber and sat. He had just finished signing the contract with John Constantine. This was a necessary move on Ainz's part if he wanted to protect Nazarick…
Getting John Constantine under his thumb should be manageable as long as Ainz shows enough sincerity, but that would go a long way to prove that Ainz only wanted Peace as he had said.
After gaining Cosmic Awareness from Spectre, Ainz had become aware of just how dangerous the Universe he found himself in. After writing note after note in his notebook, Ainz then proceeded to return it to his inventory. There was so much to do, and Ainz was now in a far graver situation than he could imagine.
"Hmmm… It would have been nice if this Cosmic Awareness would just make me omniscient, but clearly, it had its limitation." Ainz pondered and decided that he should experiment with this new magic and practice with it. "This Cosmic Awareness felt like when I am using the wiki on the internet, but instead of a World Wide Web, I have a Multiverse Wide Web."
Laughing at his own pitiful joke, Ainz then proceeded to review his fight against the Spectre.
In his fight against the Spectre, Ainz was forced to use the Red Orb, allowing him to overclock his abilities, and ensuring his victory while at it. But the penalty of the Red Orb was very brutal in that it would force its user's level to decrease for five levels… and following Yggdrasil's Game Mechanics, leveling was a monstrously challenging affair.
"I might as well be in an injured state now," He mused.
Feeling a bit of melancholy, Ainz used his Guild Ring to teleport to the Treasury. There, he saw an energetic Pandora's Actor who was transformed into a Spectre. The 'Spectre' in front of Ainz was featureless and wore a yellow cape.
"Father," Pandora's Actor remarked, "What brings you to this floor!?"
Recently, Ainz had agreed for Pandora's Actor to address him as his father as long as the latter would avoid acting in strange and exaggerated ways, which even now made Ainz feel embarrassed.
"Just a visit," Ainz patted Pandora's Actor. "You did well on signing the contract. Thankfully, you are able to subvert the effects of becoming the 'Spectre' through your Doppelganger skills. But it will be wise if you keep the World Item I left you. On the basis that your 'will' might be usurped, use the World Item without hesitation."
Pandora's Actor was quiet, but then he burst into joy at Ainz's words of concern and praise. "Indeed! I shall do so~! But fret not, for I shall remain the way I am… forever! Per se, I burst with energy every day! Speaking of which, may I know the purpose for which you have come?"
"Like I said, just a visit." Ainz then left Pandora's Actor to his own, while Ainz went deeper within the Treasury. Pandora's Actor just watched, leaving his master to his own musings.
The heavy stone door creaked open as Ainz entered the Mausoleum. The air inside was thick with the scent of dust and memories. The dim light from the enchanted torches flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls adorned with ancient runes. Ainz's footsteps echoed in the solemn chamber as he made his way toward the center.
As he approached, he saw the life-sized golems of his comrades standing in a solemn display. Each one donned the familiar gear they used to wear when they played together, a haunting reminder of the adventures they shared. The details were painstakingly accurate – from the intricate armor to the weapons they once wielded.
Ainz's gaze lingered on the golem of his closest friend, Touch Me. The golem stood tall, his majestic armor reflecting the dim light. Ainz couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as he remembered the countless battles they fought side by side. "Touch Me, I hope you can still give me advice," he whispered to the silent figure.
The golems seemed frozen in time, capturing the essence of the departed players. Ainz's fingers gently traced the contours of the golem belonging to Warrior Takemikazuchi, another dear comrade. "And Takemikazuchi, I almost miss his recklessness," he murmured, a hint of melancholy in his voice.
Ainz continued through the Mausoleum, stopping in front of each golem to pay his respects. The air was heavy with the weight of nostalgia and loss. He reached the golem of a slime of sorts, and a small smile crossed his face. "Bukubukuchagama, I definitely don't miss her rather depraved comments and pranks about life," he reminisced.
As Ainz stood in the solemn silence of the Mausoleum, the memories of their adventures played like a reel in his mind. The dialogues they shared, the laughter that echoed through virtual realms, and the bonds that transcended the digital world – all encapsulated in the golems before him.
Ainz took a deep breath, his heart heavy with both sorrow and complicated gratitude. "Thank you, my friends, for the unforgettable journey we had together," he said softly, knowing that the statues around him wouldn't as much move an inch.
"My friends, what do you think about me hogging this glorious name? Will you be happy? Or displeased? Tell me if you have any feedback, tell me this name isn't mine alone. I will change back and use Momonga without hesitation."
Quiet.
Then Peace.
And then finally, acceptance.
And soon, Ainz then left the Mausoleum, not a word more from him.
Tftc
