[The First Day of Destruction, 7:11 PM][6th Floor: Amphitheater — The Great Tomb of Nazarick]
The connection severed.
The tactical display in Ainz Ooal Gown’s mind, the sensory feed from the Eternal Death
Ainz let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Or, he would have, had he possessed lungs. Instead, a heavy, phantom sigh seemed to shudder through his ribcage.
He slumped slightly on the obsidian throne, resisting the urge to bury his skeletal face in his hands.
Directly controlling a summon via [Sensory Link]"Auto-Pilot,"
To execute the specific strategy of "terrorize, cripple, but allow specific survivors to escape," Ainz had to micromanage every strike, dodge, and every dramatic monologue.
Ainz complained internally.
However, the exhaustion was secondary to the ice-cold dread currently gripping his nonexistent heart.
Ainz clenched his skeletal fist, the leather of his glove creaking.
"I never expected this," he muttered, his voice low and grave. "To think I would see a silhouette resembling Longinus
The atmosphere in the Amphitheater froze instantly.
Albedo and Demiurge, standing at attention at the foot of the throne, stiffened. Their expressions, usually masks of adoration or cool intellect, shattered into looks of profound horror.
Since the incident with Shalltear, Ainz had lectured the Floor Guardians extensively on the threat of World-Class Items
And they knew that Longinus
"Longinus..." Albedo whispered, her wings twitching in agitation. "The World Item capable of deleting any target from existence, at the cost of the user's own deletion?"
"Correct," Ainz said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "In YGGDRASIL, it was the ultimate trade. If used, even a Floor Guardian... no, even a Player... would be erased from the database. Resurrection would be impossible unless one possessed another specific World Item to counter it."
Ainz felt a phantom shiver.
When he had seen the First Seat, that young God-kin named Clemence, wielding a black spear, Ainz’s suppression passive had worked overtime. The shape, the aura... it bore a striking resemblance to the legendary spear.
The Eternal Death was expendable. But what if Ainz had been there? Or Shalltear?
"It was a stroke of brilliance to send a summon as a vanguard," Demiurge interjected, pushing up his glasses. His voice trembled slightly, not with fear, but with awe. "Had we deployed a Guardian carelessly, we might have walked into a catastrophic trap. Your foresight effectively neutralized the threat of permanent erasure."
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"U-Umu. Exactly," Ainz lied smoothly. "Better to lose a pawn than a Queen."
Ainz leaned back, tapping a skeletal finger on the armrest.
"However... there were inconsistencies. That boy... he did not use the spear’s ability. He fought with Martial Arts and physical strikes. Even when cornered, even when his comrades were dying, he did not trigger the erasure effect."
"Perhaps he feared the cost?" Albedo suggested, her golden eyes narrowing. "To use Longinus is to commit suicide. Humans are fragile, cowardly creatures. Perhaps he lacked the resolve."
"Or," Ainz countered, "he did not know how to use it. Or perhaps..."
He paused, the red lights in his sockets dimming thoughtfully.
"...perhaps it was a fake."
"A fake, Lord Ainz?" Demiurge frowned. "But World-Class Items cannot be replicated. Their data signature is unique. The system—"
"That was the rule in YGGDRASIL, Demiurge," Ainz corrected gently. "We are no longer in a game. The laws of physics and magic here are malleable."
Ainz raised his hand, summoning a small, empty potion vial from his inventory.
"I have been conducting experiments in the Dark Elf Village. Specifically, with potion-making. In YGGDRASIL, I had no crafting job classes. I could not create potions. The system would simply prevent the action."
He turned the vial in the light.
"But here? By mixing herbs physically, by following the chemical and alchemical processes of this world... I managed to create a low-tier healing potion. It was crude, but it worked."
Demiurge’s eyes widened behind his lenses. "I see...!"
"Precisely," Ainz continued. "If a novice like myself can bypass class restrictions to create items, then what of the skilled craftsmen of this world? What if, over six hundred years, they analyzed the appearance of a World Item left by the Six Great Gods? What if they forged a replica using New World materials and magic?"
"It would not possess the World-Class power," Ainz concluded, "but it could mimic the appearance and perhaps a fraction of the stats. A 'Legacy Class' item, disguised as a World Item."
"A bluff..." Albedo breathed. "Or a symbol of authority."
"Sasuga Ainz-sama!" Demiurge exclaimed, his tail thrashing with excitement. "To think you were conducting alchemical experiments in the Elf Village solely to test the hypothesis of item replication! You anticipated that the Theocracy might possess counterfeit God-tier armaments, and you sought to understand the mechanism behind them!"
"Eh?" Ainz blinked internally.
"I... Yes. Precisely, Demiurge. You understood my intentions perfectly."
"Incredible," Albedo swooned, clasping her hands. "Your wisdom knows no bounds, my Lord. You saw through the enemy's potential deception before the battle even began!"
Ainz coughed into his fist to hide his awkwardness. "Ahem. Regardless, we cannot be careless. We must appraise that spear immediately."
He gestured to the empty air.
"Status of the captives?"
"We have secured two individuals from the Eye of the Water God," Demiurge reported efficiently. "The First Seat of the Black Scripture, the spear-wielder. And the Sixth Seat, the paladin. Both were stabilized by Pestonya immediately after capture. They are currently in the Frozen Prison on the 5th Floor."
"Good."
The Eternal Death had been ordered to strike non-lethally at the last second. The stab to Clemence’s back had missed the heart by millimeters, a calculated move Ainz had executed with sweating precision.
"And the others?"
"As per your orders, the Second Seat, Fourth Seat, and Eleventh Seat were allowed to escape via Teleportation magic," Demiurge said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "They fled the moment the barrier fell."
"Excellent."
Ainz leaned forward, the terrifying aura of the Ruler of Death leaking out for a moment.
"Fear is a seed, my Guardians. And we have just planted it in the heart of the Theocracy."
By capturing the strongest (the First Seat) and letting the weaker members escape, Ainz had created a narrative. The Black Scripture would return to the Cardinals with tales of a monster that could not be killed, a monster that toyed with their strongest warriors.
They would be desperate. They would feel cornered.
And when a nation is cornered, they reach for their ultimate weapon.
"They will believe that conventional strength is useless against the Sorcerous Kingdom," Ainz mused. "They will realize that their armies, their angels, and their scriptures are nothing but dust before us."
"And so," Albedo finished, her smile mirroring Demiurge’s, "they will be forced to deploy ."
"Exactly."
The dress. The World Item that had brainwashed Shalltear.
Ainz had to confirm who held it. He had to draw it out into the open. He could not risk a full-scale invasion of the capital without knowing where the mind-control item was. If he attacked blindly, they might hide it, or worse, use it on a Guardian when his guard was down.
But if they brought it to the battlefield...
If they tried to use it on the "Eternal Death" or another summon...
Then Ainz would be waiting.
"We will be ready," Ainz declared, standing up. His obsidian robes swirled around him. "Secure the spear from the prisoner. Have the Chief Blacksmith analyze it immediately. I want to know if it is truly Longinus or a forgery."
"At once, Lord Ainz!"
"And prepare Shalltear, Cocytus, Aura, and Mare."
Red flames flared in Ainz’s eye sockets.
“The opening act is finished. The Slane Theocracy has chosen war against the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Very well.”
He gestured to the Mirror of Remote Viewing, which now showed the smoking ruins of the Eye of the Water God.
“They seek war? Then let us teach them its true meaning
