Remove ads

The Multiverse Shits Itself With The Imperial Fam-Squad the Abridged Series! (SAO abridged/Multiverse Conquering)

Reader mode
Remove ads
Chapter 26: Successfully!
  • Threadmarks
    • Ainz's heart, brand new and fresh off the lines, pounded against his ribs. He watched, frozen in place, as the divinity he had no idea the name of, stared at him with an intensity that seemed to pierce through his carefully crafted human facade. A myriad of expressions flickered across the monstrous being of divine power's face – curiosity, confusion, sympathy, anger, and finally, a deep, unsettling sadness.

    Ten seconds. It felt like an eternity. Ainz braced himself for the worst. For a blast of divine power that would obliterate him, for the agonizing oblivion of death. He'd seen what these beings were capable of. He'd felt their power firsthand.

    But instead of annihilation, the thing simply nodded, leaning over to whisper something to who he identified as his wife, during that heroic tale. Her expression, initially guarded, softened as the man spoke. Then, with a serious look, he beckoned Ainz closer.

    Ainz, his mind a chaotic storm of confusion and terror, shot a desperate look at his companions. Behave, he mouthed, hoping they understood the gravity of the situation. Albedo, her usual predatory grin replaced by a mask of wary obedience, nodded curtly. Nabe and Lupusregina remained silent, their gazes fixed on the powerful being, their hands hovering near their concealed weapons.

    Ainz approached the man and Asuna, his steps hesitant, his every sense screaming at him to run, to teleport back to the safety of Nazarick, to do anything but stand here, vulnerable, before these beings who could crush him like an insect.

    "Sup," he said, his voice surprisingly casual. "Names Kirito. So, uh, I saw you were Japanese by your skin tone and general looks, so I got curious and rooted around in your noggin. Sorry 'bout that. Really raw deal you got there, seriously, fuck that god. Never seen an asshole curse someone for a shittier reason than that."

    Ainz, his mind reeling, grasped at the only lifeline he could find: the misunderstanding. "You have no idea," he croaked, his voice barely a whisper.

    Kirito grimaced, his expression pained. "Uh, sorry. I do. I was really interested after watching your third life, so I just kept watching. Man, that's totally fucked up. 105 lives and counting, and you're still getting a shit deal. You only get to keep your memories of how you got powerful, and I feel like… you know, I'm just gonna stop talking."

    Ainz, desperate for this conversation to end, nodded eagerly. "Yes," he said, his voice firm. "I'd rather not bring up those kinds of memories. I'd thank you to stop."

    "Names Kirito," the divinity repeated, his gaze softening slightly. "This is my wife, Asuna. So, in essence, I hope you have a better life this time." With a final, sympathetic glance, Kirito and Asuna turned and walked away, disappearing into the bustling crowd.

    Ainz stood there, frozen, his mind a blank slate. What had just happened? Why hadn't they killed him? What had Kirito seen in his mind?

    Five minutes later, after a frantic mental inventory of his skills and abilities, Ainz finally understood. The flavor text he'd haphazardly shoved into his "Perfectly Unknowable: Alignment" skill… it had merged, then autocompleted into a single, sprawling narrative. A story that spanned 105 lifetimes, a tale of heroism, tragedy, and repeated reincarnation. A story that was completely, utterly, categorically false.

    He'd stumbled upon a loophole, a glitch in the system. His own incompetence, his careless disregard for the details, had inadvertently created a shield, a defense against the very beings who could have erased him from existence.

    Ainz pulled off a masterful plan. By sheer accident.







    I stood near the quest board, a scowl etched across my face. My fingers drummed impatiently against the worn wood, my gaze unfocused, my mind a whirlwind of anger and disgust. I had a literal god on my shitlist now. And when we got back to the empire, I was going to dedicate a significant portion of my processing power to brainstorming ways to turn that divinity into a pincushion of agony. With Yui's help, of course.

    "I've never seen you so disturbed, Kirito," Asuna said, her voice laced with concern. "What did you see in his head?"

    I took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic mess of memories and emotions that had flooded my mind when I'd peered into that poor bastard's soul. "Picture this, Asuna," I began, my voice low and intense. "You've just gotten off work. The year is 2138. Your life is absolute garbage, and all you have to look forward to is absolute boredom and drearyness when you get home because, news flash, corporate hellholes don't pay you enough for a proper three meals a day, let alone any entertainment or education."

    I paused, letting the image sink in. "So, one day, you're forced to fire the guy just below you in the hierarchy, the corporate amoeba to your corporate ant. The guy then goes to the subway and is pushed in front of an oncoming subway car. That's just the beginning. The piece of shit who plucked you out of the sea of dead souls, the flamboyant, clown-faced asshole of a god, says that, 'Ohhh, you're too ugly and gross, so I must now be the ULTIMATE dickwad and give you the blessing of being handsome,'" I mocked, my voice dripping with disdain.

    "In exchange for the following curses," I continued, my voice hardening. "An unending series of new lives with no rest after any death. But you're guaranteed suffering because guess what? He's been specially chosen to be the equivalent to the protagonist in every world because of the second curse. Then the third curse, the 'let you live in interesting times' garbage? Yeah, even if he beats the big bad, another one just goddamn shows up because sadistic asshole is sadistic. The number of times his wife or wives – and after all that, I wouldn't judge him – and friends survive longer than him, I can count on one hand. He's been through this shit 105 times now, and I'm pretty sure he's the guy who's supposed to beat the skeleton asshole because he's just about weaker than him." I finished my rant with a scowl, the image of that poor bastard's suffering seared into my mind.

    Asuna blinked, her expression a mix of horror and pity. "I… don't think I have any words for that other than I don't want to think about it. Like, at all."

    I nodded grimly. "Yeah, me neither. But I can't just let that asshole god get away with this. It's… it's just wrong." A surge of anger, cold and sharp, pulsed through me. "I feel like something therapeutic would be finding that clown of a god and shoving my upgraded Dark Repulsor so far up his ass that even if I don't shove Elucidator down his gullet – which I will – he explodes into fine goddamn mist. Seriously, the bastard turned a perfectly fine, average wage slave into the real-life equivalent of 'All the Suffering Natsuki Subaru Who Can't Even Save His Loved Ones.'"








    After using a perception speed enhancing skill and a time slow spell afforded to rogues of sufficiently rare classes and homunculus type races, Ainz quickly reads through the 200000 word summarized section of his flavor text. 100,000,000 plus words condensed properly into telling him only the important bits in a story that, even condensed, took a subjective few days, Ainz paled considerably.

    This is literally the most tragic shit I have ever read and Touchme talked about plenty of those stories, fantasizing about how he would fix them if he was sent there with a special power.

    Touchme used to even write 'fix-it' fics, even if I never read them, he was a ham about talking about them and quoted his heroically written words often in-game.

    Albedo, her eyes gleaming with admiration, began to declare, "Sasuga! Ainz-sama, a masterful—"

    A wave of panic surged through Ainz. He couldn't let her finish that sentence. If those words, that praise for his nonexistent brilliance, reached Kirito's ears… He shuddered, imagining the consequences.

    With a swiftness born of his enhanced mental processing speed, a perk of his new "Mockery of Life" racial class, he cast a silent Message spell, targeting Albedo, Nabe, and Lupusregina.

    QUIET! The words appeared in their minds, stark and urgent. Don't ruin the deception! If that god finds out— if the outsider god known as Kirito, EVER finds out any of that is false, he will be so angry that he will erase us on the spot with great fury! We will NEVER speak of it out loud, and if he references it in your presence, you are to look contrite and sad, as well as sympathetic towards me as possible. The deception must NEVER be spoken of.

    Albedo's eyes widened, her voice catching in her throat. Nabe and Lupusregina exchanged startled glances, their hands instinctively tightening on their concealed weapons. Albedo, her face paling, looked as if she were about to prostrate herself, begging for forgiveness for her perceived failure. Ainz, with a sigh of exasperation, sent another silent message.

    We will talk about it when we return to the Tomb. But for now, you need to act natural!

    Albedo, her posture stiffening, nodded curtly. Nabe and Lupusregina followed suit, their expressions carefully neutral. Ainz, his heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs, forced a smile onto his face. He had to maintain the illusion, the facade of a weary, yet noble, hero.

    He approached the counter, his gaze scanning the room. The Adventurers Guild was a bustling hive of activity, filled with the sounds of boisterous laughter, drunken arguments, and the clinking of tankards. He spotted a stack of forms near the counter, presumably for those seeking to register as adventurers. He reached for one, his fingers brushing against the rough parchment.

    And then he realized he couldn't read it. The language, a swirling mess of unfamiliar characters, was completely alien to him.

    He glanced at Albedo, a silent plea for help in his eyes. She, ever attuned to his needs, nodded subtly. She poked a finger to her temple, then repeated the gesture, targeting Nabe, Lupusregina, and finally, Ainz. A jolt of energy surged through him, and suddenly, the words on the form swam into focus. He could read them. He could understand them.

    "Ah, thank you, Albedo," he said, his voice a low murmur. "I do not have that spell and would have been in trouble. So, consider the minor slight resolved."

    He mentally patted himself on the back for avoiding another potential meltdown from his overly devoted guardian overseer. Albedo, like all of his NPCs, seemed to crave punishment for even the slightest perceived transgression. It was a bizarre quirk, one he hadn't quite figured out how to address.

    He took a deep breath, his newly human lungs expanding and contracting with a comforting familiarity. He could do this. He had to do this. He had to blend in, gather information, and avoid attracting the attention of those terrifyingly powerful beings.

    This cannot go horribly wrong at all, he thought sarcastically, a flicker of doubt creeping into his mind.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 27: how to avert progress-by-potion... By accident!
  • Threadmarks
    • The image of that smug, clown-faced god, the one who'd cursed that poor salaryman bastard with an eternity of suffering, flickered in my mind.

    For a fleeting moment, a surge of white-hot rage pulsed through me, and I considered tearing through the void, hunting him down, and shoving my sword so far down his throat that it tickled his nonexistent balls.

    Ah, yes, I have foiled your evil plan by simply existing, doesn't that infuriate you? Isn't it so super-angry-making, you whiny baby with a god complex? Well, the real god's here now, and he has a good reason to have a word with you!

    But no, revenge would have to wait. We had more pressing matters to attend to. Like, for instance, the fact that we were currently operating on a budget of zero. I mean, sure, we could probably just walk into the royal treasury and help ourselves to a few chests of gold, but where was the fun in that? Besides, we had a reputation to maintain. Foreign royalty didn't resort to petty theft, even if they were literal gods in disguise.

    "Looks like we need to make a quick trip to the money-making machine," I muttered, my gaze sweeping across the crowded guild hall. The place was a chaotic mess of boisterous adventurers, overflowing tankards of ale, and the lingering scent of sweat, straight from anti-sunshine land.

    Not exactly my ideal hangout spot, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

    Asuna, who was browsing through the lower-level quest postings with a look of amused disbelief, raised an eyebrow at me. "Money-making machine?" she echoed, her voice laced with a dry sarcasm that only I could fully appreciate. "You mean that piece of paper on the board over there that dispenses 10 copper coins for collecting ten rat tails? Sounds thrilling."

    "Nah," I said, shaking my head. "I'm thinking about something a little more… efficient."

    I'd noticed something interesting about this world's currency system. Gold, it seemed, was gold. No matter where you went, no matter what realm you found yourself in, a gold coin was a gold coin. And when you took it out of your inventory in a real-world setting, the digital gold of my 'col' turned into actual, physical gold.

    Handy, that.

    So, selling a few gold coins to be melted down seemed like a safe bet. No chance of crashing the market in a country that had a stranglehold on the link between currency and categories of items, no matter the stock.

    Besides, it was better than doing something stupid, like selling an item I had no idea the significance of in a world this weak, magically speaking.

    Selling a mid-heal crystal, probably the equivalent of a potion of literally god-level healing in this world, would bring so much suspicion down on our heads that I could practically hear the inquisition already marching our way.

    Oh, look, a glowing crystal that can instantly heal any wound, even regrow limbs! Must be a common trinket from some backwater kingdom. Nothing suspicious here!

    Yeah, right.

    This world was different. Magic was weak, common goods were cheap, but a single gold coin could buy you, at most, a single book on being slightly useful. Which, considering the average intelligence level I'd observed so far, was probably a generous overestimation.

    I glanced back at the quest board, my eyes scanning the postings.

    Goblin extermination for a copper-plated adventurer? Ogre hunting for a mythril-plated adventurer? Seriously?! What was wrong with these people?! The difference in difficulty between those tasks was so absolutely negligible that my brain fucking trembled!

    It was like comparing a toddler's tea party to a slightly more chaotic toddler's tea party.

    Do you want to fight a fighter or a slightly more muscular fighter?! Well, have I got the specifically weak mission for you!

    "Hey, Asuna," I said, my voice laced with a sardonic amusement, "wanna go on an epic adventure? We could collect ten herbs! After all, we, the copper plates, are so goddamn weak that the world will shit itself at our presence! Such weak! Or deliver a package to the next town for a whopping silver coin and a chance at an upgrade to iron! It'll be a real test of our skills!"

    Asuna snorted, shaking her head. "You're such a dork," she said, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

    Yeah, she got it. She always did. This world, with its low-level quests and its primitive understanding of magic, was a joke. A bad joke. But hey, at least it was entertaining. For now.





    "—No, I think I'd rather go with your plan of melting down gold at the bank. No chance of suspicion for big items, so that adventure of not-so-epic proportions can wait."

    Ainz overheard the woman's words as he finished pondering the "Comprehend Multiple Items" spell. Albedo had just cast it on a written form, and it had somehow worked. Magic in this world was… strange. Unpredictable. He still hadn't quite grasped its nuances of how it converted from Yggdrasil.

    Then, the woman's- Asuna's words, spoken so casually, so carelessly, hit him like a runaway carriage.

    "—Melt down gold…"

    "—Melt down gold…"
    "—Melt down gold…"
    "—Melt down gold…"

    The phrase echoed in his mind, a mocking refrain that underscored his own stupidity. He'd been so focused on maintaining his "hero" facade, on blending in, that he'd completely overlooked the obvious. Selling a mid-tier potion in a world where magic was weak, where healing potions were likely rare and valuable… it would have been a disaster. He could already imagine the questions, the suspicion, the inevitable scrutiny that would have followed.

    How did you acquire such a potent potion? Where did you learn such advanced alchemy? Who are you, really?

    The sound of a hand meeting flesh echoed through the guild hall. Ainz had slapped himself, hard, across the face. A facepalm of epic proportions.

    You idiot, he thought, wincing at the stinging sensation on his cheek. You almost blew your cover before you even started!

    Ainz watched, his newly-formed heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs, as Kirito and Asuna moved towards the quest board. They seemed so… normal. So human. It was almost impossible to reconcile this image with the terrifying power he'd witnessed in the forest.

    They scanned the board for a moment, their expressions thoughtful, before selecting a parchment and heading towards the registration counter. Ainz strained to hear their conversation, but their voices were lost in the din of the guild hall.

    He saw Kirito slap a few copper coins onto the counter, presumably the registration fee, and receive a small, metal token in return. They turned and headed towards the exit, their movements casual, their demeanor relaxed. They were leaving.

    Ainz felt a surge of relief, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of anxiety. He had to know what they were up to. He had to understand their motivations, their goals. He had to…

    "Shall I dispatch a few Shadows to follow them, Ainz-sama?" Albedo's voice, a low murmur in his ear, startled him out of his thoughts.

    "No," Ainz said, his voice firm. He couldn't risk it. If those beings, those gods discovered they were being followed, the consequences could be disastrous. "We will follow them ourselves, but only for a short distance. Just long enough to see which direction they take, then we will retreat."

    Albedo's brow furrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and disappointment. "But Ainz-sama," she protested, "surely a few Shadows would be more discreet. They could-"

    "Enough! Albedo!" Ainz interrupted, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "We cannot risk being discovered. Those beings are far too perceptive. They might still be watching us, even now." He wasn't sure if that was true, but it was a convenient excuse to avoid further scrutiny.

    Albedo, her shoulders slumping slightly, bowed her head. Then in a hyper-flagilistic way she exclaimed, "As you command, Ainz-sama! I apologize for my…"

    "There is no need for apologies, Albedo," Ainz said, forcing a reassuring smile onto his face as he prevented her from slamming her face into the table. "Your loyalty is commendable. But for now, we must proceed with caution. We will discuss this further when we return to Nazarick." He didn't want to deal with Albedo's self-flagellation right now. He had enough on his plate as it was.







    We stepped out of the bank, a satisfying weight settling in my pocket. A few hundred gold coins, discreetly exchanged for a small fortune in this world's laughably inflated currency, would be more than enough to cover our expenses for the foreseeable future. Who knew that the actual amount of gold in the 'gold' coins was so small that 100 2 ounce gold coins would be such a big deal.

    I glanced at the setting sun, its orange glow painting the sky in a fiery palette. Time for the next phase of our "grand adventure."

    I unfolded the quest parchment, scanning the details. "Investigate the local graveyard for signs of undead activity and report back to the guild," I read aloud, my voice laced with amusement. "And report back… huh. Yeah, not going to do that. Wanna go catacomb diving, Asuna?"

    Asuna, who was already twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, a sure sign that she was ready for some action, grinned. "Catacomb diving it is," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who knows what kind of treasures we might find down there? Maybe even a few undead to test out our 'new totally not sandbagging' skills on."

    I chuckled, shaking my head. Leave it to Asuna to turn a mundane task into an opportunity for some good old-fashioned attention grabbing. "Alright," I said, my grin widening, "let's go raise some hell."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Remove ads
    Chapter 28: Divine Fluff
  • Threadmarks
    • The cemetery gates loomed before us, a wrought iron monstrosity that seemed to sag under the weight of years and neglect. A gaggle of adventurers, their tags ranging from copper plates to a few gleaming silvers, milled about, their expressions a mix of boredom and apprehension. Apparently, this was a group mission, a mass extermination of the undead that had taken up residence in the catacombs beneath the graveyard.

    I scanned the crowd, my enhanced senses taking in every detail. Irons and silvers would be arriving soon, taking over from the lower-ranked adventurers who had finished the initial scouting. Emptying out the entire catacombs before they even got a chance to swing a sword would probably piss them off. Not that I particularly cared about pissing off irons, bronzes, or coppers. But the few silvers and the gold-plated overseer… they might prove to be a bit obstructive if we just waltzed in and obliterated every single derpy skeleton down there.

    So, the solution was simple: do all the scouting at once. I turned to Asuna, our eyes meeting in a silent exchange. We'd practiced multiple ways of communicating silently by now, from subtle hand gestures to telepathic links. But for this, the simplest solution was best.

    "You have Maximize Magic and Area Detect Undead from those zealots we killed in the Katze Plains, right?" I asked, my voice a low murmur that only she could hear.

    Asuna nodded, a grin on her face and her eyes narrowed. "Yup."

    I grinned, already picturing the looks on their faces. "Alright, let's give them a show they won't forget."

    With a casual flick of her wrist, Asuna began to cast the spell. A faint hum filled the air as a complex- to the onlookers at least-, two-layered magic circle materialized before her, its simple as fuck- I totally mean intricate, runes glowing with an ethereal light. The adventurers, their mouths agape, stared in stunned silence. To them, this was high-level magic, a display of power far beyond their comprehension.

    Asuna, ignoring their bewildered gazes, poured a negligible her will into the spell while making it look simple- because to her it was. The magic circle pulsed, expanding outwards, encompassing the entire graveyard and the catacombs beneath. The air crackled with energy as the spell reached its peak, then faded, leaving behind a shimmering afterimage.

    Asuna, with a smirk, conjured a sheet of parchment and overlaid the spells divination to the paper. Lines appeared, forming a detailed map of the area, with glowing red dots marking the locations of every single undead creature within the catacombs. She handed the map to the gold-plated overseer, who was still staring at her with a slack-jawed expression.

    "There you go," she said, her voice laced with a playful amusement. "Happy hunting."

    We turned and walked away, our pace leisurely, our expressions carefully neutral. We'd made our point. We were not to be trifled with.

    We were two blocks away, heading back towards the Adventurers Guild, when the gold-plated overseer finally found his voice.

    "HOW IN THE FUCK?!" he roared, his voice echoing through the streets. "THAT WAS FOURTH-TIER MAGIC!"

    I chuckled, shaking my head. "Ah, yes," I muttered, "the smell of primitives seeing a slightly stronger than normal spell and then freaking out. Such interesting. Many fun. Wow."

    This world was going to be a challenge, alright.

    Yes.

    All of the difficulties.

    Totally.





    The familiar scent of ale and sweat washed over me as we stepped back into the Adventurer's Guild. The usual boisterous atmosphere was subdued, a low hum of conversation replacing the usual shouts and laughter. Most of the adventurers were either gathered around tables, nursing their drinks, or huddled in small groups, their voices hushed as they discussed upcoming expeditions or recounted past exploits.

    A lone pigeon perched on the counter of the "Incoming Message and Courier Delivery" section, its beady eyes fixed on a flustered receptionist who was staring at a small scroll clutched in her hand. Her jaw hung slack, her expression a mix of disbelief and bewilderment.

    "I need you to confirm this with the Gold Plate Overseer in person," she said, her voice sharp with urgency after she beckoned to a nearby Copper Plate adventurer, a young man with a mop of unruly brown hair and a nervous twitch in his eye- and he arrived. "He needs to send one of his Silvers to give this message, not just hand it off to a carrier pigeon!"

    I glanced at Asuna, a silent question passing between us. What in the world is going on? I thought, my curiosity piqued. But we had a reward to collect, and I wasn't about to let a little bureaucratic drama get in the way of our hard-earned- well, not really hard-earned- easy cash- payout.

    We continued towards the reward counter, our steps echoing on the wooden floor. But before we could reach our destination, the receptionist, her face still flushed with a mix of confusion and what looked like awe, intercepted us.

    "Ah, umm, Your Royal Highness Prince Famme," she stammered, her eyes darting between us and the pigeon, which was now pecking impatiently at the counter, "could you please wait until we confirm the information? We already know what you two supposedly did, but we need to be thorough for record's sake."

    I nodded, my expression carefully neutral. "Very well," I said, my voice a smooth, practiced blend of patience and authority. It wouldn't do to make a scene, not when we were trying to maintain our cover. Besides, I was curious to see what all the fuss was about. This was turning out to be far more entertaining than I'd anticipated.

    "Ah, my royal fiancé of the Yuuki Ducal house, the future queen of the nation that is my heart," I said, my voice dripping with all of the honey, "what shall we do while we wait?" I gestured vaguely towards the bustling guild hall, my illusion of boredom barely masking the amusement I felt at the absurdity of the situation.

    Asuna smirked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I do so wonder," she replied, her voice a playful purr. But beneath the surface, a different conversation was taking place.

    We really need to fix that 'Yuuki' surname, she sent telepathically, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance. The thought of being related to that parasite and the sperm donor still pisses me off. The fact that we never returned to get officially married in the sense of Japanese law still sucks.

    I chuckled, sending a reassuring thought back to her. How about we fix that? We shall truly become a Famme-ily.

    "How about," I said aloud, my voice taking on a more serious tone, "we start planning the wedding? Right here, right now."

    I dropped to one knee, my movements smooth.

    With a flourish, I pulled out a ring. Not just any ring, mind you. This was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a dazzling display of diamonds arranged in an intricate pattern that would make even the most jaded jeweler weep with envy. It was a ring fit for a goddess, a ring that whispered of eternal love and devotion.

    Why are you so sweet? Asuna sent, her mental voice choked with emotion. We already did this in virtual reality, but the fact that we're doing this in a physical world… it hurts how much love you are making me feel for you. I don't know how I could ever be more happy.

    Externally, she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the ring with wide, tear-filled eyes. Then, with a sudden surge of emotion, she grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me close, and kissed me. It was a long, passionate kiss, a kiss that spoke of nearly three years of shared experiences, of battles fought side-by-side, of a love that transcended the boundaries of reality.

    "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sudden hush that had fallen over the guild hall. "A million times and forever, yes."

    The guild erupted in applause, cheers and whistles filling the air. A few adventurers even started stomping their feet, creating a rhythmic thunder that shook the very foundations of the building. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, a celebration of love and commitment that transcended the usual cynicism and violence of this world.

    And then, time froze.

    The cheers died in throats, the tankards froze mid-air, and the flickering flames of the fireplace solidified into motionless sculptures of fire. A wave of divine power, cold and alien, washed over the room, its presence so overwhelming that it made my skin crawl.

    A figure materialized before us, its form shifting and swirling, a kaleidoscope of colors and light that defied comprehension. It was a being of pure energy, its shape constantly changing, its voice a chorus of whispers that echoed in the frozen silence.

    "My favorite person who actually understood me, despite me literally pretending to be a cat who shoved his head into a NerveGear and forced everyone to believe it, is finally getting married for real!" the being declared, its voice a bizarre mix of static and a strangely familiar feline purr.



    "I FUCKING KNEW IT!" I roared, my voice shattering the frozen silence. I'd always known that damn cat was more than it seemed. That level of intelligence, that understanding… it was impossible for a normal feline.

    "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" Asuna demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of shock and disbelief. "And why does it look like— oh my fucking god, you were actually talking to the cat before, and you really did understand it BECAUSE IT WASN'T A CAT AT ALL!"

    "Really, Asuna, if Don Fluffles was actually a cat and not some eldritch monstrosity, no offense," I interjected, turning to the glowing figure, "it would have died of starvation or dehydration. No one is going to take the body of a cat who is somehow playing in a NerveGear to a vet! It's almost as implausible as the fact a cat got into a NerveGear in the first place."



    Don Fluffles, his form solidifying into a vaguely humanoid shape,



    nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm surprised I actually got away with that, even with the sep field. Congrats on the upcoming wedding."

    The fact that his adventurer A type armor changed into an extremely fancy modern suit was actually quite cool.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Remove ads
    Chapter 29: As Intended
  • Threadmarks
    • "Fair warning," Don Fluffles said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air around us, "everyone will remember me as if I'd always been here as an Adamantite Plate adventurer when I unstop time. Just pretend that I have a majestic beard and a shiny bald head and am totally not a cat-faced eldritch abomination."

    I blinked as time lurched back into motion, the frozen guild hall springing back to life. It was like someone had hit the play button on a paused movie, except with the added weirdness of a few extra people suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Reality, it seemed, had a bit of a glitch.

    "Hey, Don," a voice boomed from behind me. I turned to see a massive woman, her features chiseled and strong, her muscles rippling beneath her armor. She had a smirk on her face, and her eyes, a piercing blue, seemed to assess me with a single glance. "You talkin' to these newbies?"

    I watched as Don Fluffles nodded and gave a thumbs-up, that bizarrely feline grin still plastered on his face. The way his mouth moved, like he was making elongated meowing noises, was and always had been extremely strange when paired with his deep, booming voice. It was like watching a nature documentary narrated by Morgan Freeman, but with a cat's face superimposed over the majestic lion.

    "Yeah, they're entirely underrated," Don Fluffles said, his voice a rumble. "I'm sure they'll get to our level in short order, Gagaran."

    The woman, now identified as Gagaran, just nodded, taking a long swig from her tankard. "I'll take your word for it," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll go check up on Evileye." She winked at me – a gesture that, coming from someone with her physique, was more intimidating than flirtatious – and then strode off towards a shadowy corner of the guild hall.

    "Mhm, thanks for the vote of confidence," I said, nodding to Don Fluffles after I had a quick revolted shudder. "Didn't need it, but a rep boost is a rep boost."

    Don Fluffles chuckled, his shoulders shaking with mirth. "Don't mention it, kid," he said, his voice a low purr. "Just having a little fun."

    "Disturbing revelations and broken perception filters aside," Asuna began, her voice full of so much annoyance and rage that I was absolutely sure that she would develop a misfortune domain simply to use it on her newly gained adversary, "is anyone else disturbed that big, mean, and anti-feminine over there just tried to ineffectually flirt with someone who just proposed to me? Like, no one at all?"

    I was about to respond, to offer some witty retort or a reassuring gesture, but before I could, the guild receptionist bustled back to our table, a silver plate clutched in her hand. Beside her stood a man with a mustache so majestic it could have its own gravitational pull. He nodded to Don Fluffles with a smile, then turned his attention to us.

    "I would like to give you a Platinum Plate due to your feat of fourth-tier magic," he said, his voice a booming baritone that commanded attention, "but after completing just a single quest and giving one to an adventurer, let alone a team of two… well, let's just say the other guild masters would try to make trouble. My name is Pluton Ainzach, and I am the Adventurer's Guild Master here at E-Rantel. I expect great things from you two." He handed us each a silver plate that was both cool in the temperature sense and cool in the 'I want to wear this' sense.

    "Thank you, Guild Master Ainzach," I said, my voice a carefully crafted blend of humility and gratitude. "We are honored to serve." I glanced at Asuna, who was examining her newly acquired plate with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

    "Hmm, alright, this seems adequate." she murmured, her fingers tracing the metal surface. "I wonder what kind of perks come with being a Silver Plate adventurer in this world?"

    I chuckled, shaking my head. "Only one way to find out," I said, my grin widening.

    I watched as Ainzach, his shoulders slumping with fatigue, turned to head towards the stairs leading to the upper levels of the guild hall. A mischievous grin spread across my face. Time to stir the pot a little.

    "Please, Guild Master Ainzach," I said, my voice laced with a feigned innocence, "Explain to us newbies what silverifying ourselves would prevail us of opportunity-wise."

    Ainzach paused, his brow furrowing slightly at my deliberately mangled wording. He seemed to be a man of few words, his patience worn thin by years of dealing with idiotic adventurers. But he was also a professional, and he clearly took his duties as Guild Master seriously. With a sigh, he turned back to face us, his expression a mask of weary tolerance.

    "Silver adventurers are allowed to request lodging directly at guild housing for a fee," he explained, his voice a gruff baritone. "Some restaurants offer discounts, and you can get better quests. That's pretty much it."

    I exchanged a glance with Asuna, a silent chuckle passing between us. Better quests? I thought, my amusement growing. In this world? I'd like to see what they consider 'challenging.'

    "Well," I said, my grin widening, "guess we'll have to wait for those 'better quests' to materialize. In the meantime…" I trailed off, my gaze following Asuna as she strode back towards the quest board. She scanned the postings for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought, before selecting the parchment detailing the cemetery clearing mission. The one that specifically involved killing the undead, not just mapping their locations.

    "Now that we are, in fact, Silver Plates," she said, her voice laced with a predatory excitement, "let's go have some fun." She turned and headed towards the exit, her steps purposeful, her hand resting on the hilt of her rapier.

    I chuckled, shaking my head. Leave it to Asuna to find a way to make even the most mundane task sound like a declaration of war. I followed close behind, enjoying the bewildered stares of the other adventurers as we passed.

    As we reached the guild hall doors, a loud sigh echoed from the second-story balcony. Ainzach, his face a mask of weary exasperation, slammed the door to his office shut. "Crazy royal bastards," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the din of the guild hall.

    I grinned, my amusement growing. He had no idea.






    The cemetery gates creaked open, revealing a gaggle of adventurers milling about, their expressions a mix of anticipation and boredom. I spotted the Gold Plate Overseer, a stern-looking man with a neatly trimmed beard and a no-nonsense demeanor, standing near the entrance to the catacombs. Time to make our grand entrance.

    "Look who's got the right plate now?" I said, approaching the Overseer with a shit-eating grin plastered on my face. "Fun time?"

    The Overseer, his expression unchanging, simply nodded. "Yes. Fun. In a crypt." He then turned to address the assembled adventurers, his voice a booming baritone that cut through the murmuring crowd. "Alright, listen up! The catacombs are extensive, and the undead are said to be particularly aggressive this time of year. Stick to your assigned teams, follow the maps, and don't engage any enemies beyond your rank. Safety first, people!"

    I stifled a chuckle as the adventurers, their faces a mix of eagerness and apprehension, surged forward, jostling for position as they entered the crypt entrance. They were so eager to prove themselves, so desperate for a taste of glory, that they completely missed the obvious. The deliberately blocked doorway, the faint scent of decay that lingered in the air, the unnatural silence that hung over the graveyard… it all screamed "trap." But hey, who was I to spoil their fun?

    Asuna, ever the pragmatist, pushed aside a heavy wooden box that had been jammed against the door, a rusty piece of metal further securing it in place. So I just kicked the rest of it down as I turned down a hidden corridor.

    "Are you sure that was wise?" she asked, her voice a low murmur.

    I took a deep breath, letting the scent of decay fill my nostrils. It was a familiar aroma, a reminder of countless battles fought and won against the forces of darkness. "Well, seeing as that deliberately blocked door was super suspicious," I said, my voice dripping with mock naiveté, "what's the worst that can happen? In fact, nothing bad can happen at all! We're totally going to have all the fun exploring this mysterious crypt. They haven't breached the wall in 100 years, there's no way a cult of evil zombie summoners will attack us here. We are, in fact, invincible. For you see, Asuna, nothing can sink this boat because I HAVE DEFEATED MURPHY, THE BITCH!"

    Asuna blinked, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "That amount of poking Murphy…" she said, her voice trailing off. "Are you sure you want to invite that level of attention?"

    I grinned, my eyes narrowing into a predatory gleam. I lifted my middle finger to the sky, a silent challenge to fate itself. "Believe me," I said, my voice a low, confident sound that echoed off the walls, "nothing will occur that is not exactly as I intend. No worries."

    And then, with a low rumble that shook the very foundations of the crypt, the floor beneath us gave way.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Hurricane's gonna go brrr...
  • Threadmarks
    • So, Hurricanes dislike Miami on principle and since that's where I am and it's coming straight for my general direction, just wanna let you guys know via this temporary(Hopefully) post (Fuckin' category five you never know) that Powers gonna be out when its out and expect me not to be here for at least a couple days from wednesday onwards through friday(And maybe longer depending on infrastructure going smash.)
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 30: In which bad things happen to bad people AND bad beds...
  • Threadmarks
    • We landed gracefully, like vengeful angels descending upon a gathering of particularly clueless pigeons. Black robes swirled around us, hundreds of skull-topped staves clattering to the stone floor as their owners gaped in stunned silence. The air hung thick with the stench of incense and something else… something metallic, like blood mixed with rust. A shiver ran down my spine, but it wasn't fear. It was absolute disgust. This was more than just a random encounter with a few stray undead. They were clearly planning something stupid.

    "Well," I said, my voice dripping with mocking amusement, "it seems we have acquired an invitation to a cult rave! Shall we go about shitting all over whatever the hell these morons are doing?" I gestured towards the throng of robed figures, my frown deepening into a grimace as I took in the absurdity of the scene. Hundreds of them, packed into this cavernous chamber deep beneath the graveyard, their eyes wide with shock and confusion.

    Before any of the other weak and garbage-class cultists around us could even begin to react, a figure in crimson robes broke from the crowd. He stormed towards us, his face contorted in a mask of what he clearly thought was righteous fury while a necklace of skulls rattled against his chest like a demented wind chime. His eyes, blazing with a fanaticism that made my skin crawl, were fixed on me, on Asuna, on the audacity of our arrival.

    "HOW DARE YOU! You dare invade the staging ground for my great plan!? Zurrernorn shall no-"

    His words were cut short, abruptly and definitively. Asuna, her movements a blur of silver, a dance of death only I could truly appreciate, drove her rapier through the man's skull. The force of the impact obliterated his entire upper body in a spray of blood and bone. The crimson-stained necklace of skulls clattered to the floor, a morbid metronome marking the end of his pathetic existence.

    Asuna, her rapier dripping with blood, turned towards the stunned crowd, her eyes narrowed, her voice a chilling whisper that cut through the stunned silence.

    "I was talking to my husband!" She paused for a moment, as she swiped the air and the small amount of blood still on her rapier slapped one of the stunned cultists in the face. "Do any other bugs want to interrupt me!?"

    A wave of panic rippled through the assembled cultists. Some stumbled back, their eyes wide with terror, their hands fumbling for weapons that would be as effective as toothpicks against a hurricane. Others, their minds consumed by a fanaticism that bordered on madness, let out a primal scream and charged towards us, their skull-topped staves held high. They were lambs to the slaughter, their pathetic attempts at resistance only fueling our amusement.

    But our attention was drawn to a new arrival, emerging from the shadows with a predatory grace. A woman, tall and lithe, her every movement radiating a dangerous confidence. Two stiletto daggers, their blades gleaming, were held loosely in each of her hands. My gaze drifted downwards, my stomach churning as I took in the full absurdity of her attire. Her armor, a patchwork of mismatched metal plates, was clearly made from… adventurer tags. Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, sewn together with a macabre artistry that was both impressive and deeply unsettling.

    "That…" I said, my voice a low whistle of disbelief, "is really fucked up, lady. That's like, over a thousand dead adventurers you're wearing. And that smile…" I shook my head, a shiver running down my spine despite the mockery in my voice. "It doesn't make you look pretty. It makes you look like a demented frog with twelve murder fetishes."

    Her smile widened, revealing a row of sharp, pointed teeth that seemed a bit too long, a bit too sharp, for a normal human. "Oh, honey," she purred, her voice a husky rasp that sent another shiver down my spine, "you have no idea." She took a step closer, her eyes, that seemed to glow with an inner fire, locked on Asuna. "You're going to look lovely as part of my collection."

    My eyes twitched and my mocking frown disappeared, replaced by a scowl of contempt.

    "And now you're fucking dead. How does that sound?"

    The mocking amusement vanished from my voice, replaced by a chilling calm, a void of emotion that mirrored the emptiness I was about to unleash. I didn't bother with witty retorts, with playful banter. This… thing, this creature that wore the dead as a trophy, had crossed a line.

    With a single step, I crossed the distance between us. The air snapped loudly as I stepped forward, the very fabric of reality warping under the weight of my unleashed divinity. My sword, a blur of motion too fast for any person in this reality besides Asuna to fully perceive, arced through the air, a whisper of death that cleaved through flesh, bone, and soul.

    The woman, her predatory grin frozen in place, didn't even have time to scream or even notice I had moved. One moment she was there, a grotesque parody of inhumanity trying to be pretty, the next she was nothing. A spray of blood, a burst of crimson mist, then even that vanished, atomized into nothingness by the sheer force of my strike.

    A heavy silence descended upon the chamber, broken only by the panicked gasps of the remaining cultists. I turned towards them, my eyes glowing with an icy fire that consumed their terror, their fanaticism, their very existence. They disintegrated, one by one, their forms dissolving into dust, their souls yanked into my storage for later personality erasure.

    The floor beneath us buckled, the stone cracking and splitting under the strain of my power. A chasm, a jagged wound in the earth, ripped through the catacombs, extending upwards, outwards, consuming everything in its path. A distant rumble, the sound of collapsing stone and crumbling earth, echoed through the chamber.

    "I'm glad to know my husband cares enough to snap at someone who threatens me," Asuna said, her voice full of amusement as she surveyed the carnage I'd wrought and snapped me out of my rage. "But I'm pretty sure we should get out of here before someone comes to find that a large portion of the city wall is missing, along with an eighth of the back side of the catacombs."

    I chuckled, the chilling calm receding, replaced by a familiar mask of amusement. "Yeah," I said, my grin returning, "let's not stick around for the cleanup crew. This place is giving me the creeps."

    With a thought, I used my control over space and the world around us blurred, reality twisting and folding upon itself as we teleported away, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation and a gaping hole in the city's defenses.

    We slipped out of the graveyard amidst the chaos, ignoring the shouts of the knights and the panicked cries of the adventurers who were still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

    A massive chunk of the catacombs was missing, along with a sizable portion of the city wall.

    Oops.

    "Let's get out of here before they start asking questions," I whispered to Asuna, my voice a low murmur as we casually strolled back towards the Adventurers Guild.

    My eyebrow twitched involuntarily when I glanced at the devastation behind us.

    I really hoped we weren't going to be held responsible for the damages. Repairing a city wall was not exactly how I'd envisioned spending our vacation.

    Back at the guild, we received our payment for the "undead extermination" with a mix of amusement and boredom. The guild staff, their faces still pale with shock, handed over a hefty sack of silver coins with trembling hands.

    They seemed terrified of whatever had caused the wall to crumble, which, to be honest, was a bit of a mood killer.

    "We have another urgent request," a guild receptionist stammered, her voice barely audible above the din of the guild hall. "The city wall has been breached. We need all available adventurers to assist in the defense."

    I turned to leave, my eyebrow twitching again. "Sorry, we have a prior engagement," I lied smoothly. "Maybe next time." I practically dragged Asuna, who was just giving me a raised eyebrow and a smirk, out of the guild hall.

    I didn't want to stick around to see the extent of the damage, let alone explain how it had happened.

    We ended up at a fancy inn, a lavish establishment that reeked of wealth and privilege. After a quick bath – a luxury I'd sorely missed after days of traveling – we collapsed onto the massive, canopied bed in our room.

    a few minutes later, after a series of groans and muttered curses, "This bed sucks!"

    "Why didn't we check if this was an actual bed and not a dumpster?!" I agreed

    The pillows were hard, lumpy, and smelled vaguely of mildew. I mean, seriously, who in their right mind would sleep on this monstrosity?

    "What even is this garbage made of?!" Asuna clearly agreed further.

    We both stumbled out of the bed, if you can call it that, and with a grimace I observed it closely.

    Asuna then started doing a really in depth investigation.

    Needless to say, that investigation had 'Disturbing discoveries.' to be discovered within.

    We encased it in a barrier and set it on fire to the point that ashes would become ashes of ashes and then cease to exist.

    We took another bath, this time with added disinfection methods via divinity.

    "Inventory time," I declared, pulling out a massive, king-sized bed from my spatial storage.

    The bed was a marvel of modern technology, a memory foam mattress with adjustable firmness settings, temperature control, and features that would probably make sense to the chad bedding scientist, but certainly not the average bedding sleeper.

    Asuna, who had been struggling to get comfortable on the medieval torture device, let out a sigh of relief.

    "Thank everything for actual comfortable bedding," she murmured, sinking into the plush embrace of the mattress. "This is the real comfort I need."

    "This is life," I let out with a contented sigh.

    My last thought before falling asleep was if I should leave this bed here or just some gold.



    With that, our divinely-powered duo has scored themselves a shiny new Silver Plate! Meanwhile, they left a trail of bewildered adventurers wondering if maybe, just maybe, they accidentally wandered into a tournament arc where rocks fall and everyone dies! But while Kirito and Asuna are enjoying the perks of their ill-gotten bedding, the city of E-Rantel is in full-on panic! They're scrambling to repair a city wall that's looking a bit more like Swiss cheese than a formidable defense, completely oblivious to the fact that their "noble saviors" are the ones who accidentally turned it into a demolition derby practice oopsie!

    Meanwhile, your humble narrator is hoping this hurricane doesn't decide to make a guest appearance in the author's living room! Will the truth about the city wall's "mysterious" collapse ever come to light? Will Kirito and Asuna's "vacation" devolve into a full-blown "conquer everything" speedrun? And just how long will it take for those poor, overworked souls at the Adventurer's Guild to realize that they've just handed out a Silver Plate to a pair of literal gods? How long will that guaranteed and torturous power-outage last?!

    Find out next time on "The Multiverse Shits Itself: Honeymoon Havoc and Accidental Apocalypse of the 42nd dimension!" Where reality is about as stable as a caffeine-fueled squirrel with a tendency towards enacting serial murder and the only thing more unpredictable than a hurricane is a bored god with a penchant for collateral damage!
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 31: Unjustifying Injustice... With Death!
  • Threadmarks
    • Ainz paced his study, the polished obsidian floor reflecting his newly human form. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he'd developed since his encounter with Kirito and Asuna. The Mockery of Life Homunculus racial class was proving to be more than just a physical transformation.

    But his karmic value... It was changing him.

    Even with the undead curse's emotional suppression dulled, a chilling truth had settled upon him. The world itself recognized him, his guild, and all his NPC companions as fundamentally evil. It was a stain, a mark upon their very souls, a consequence of their actions in Yggdrasil.

    He couldn't feel the disgust he knew he should feel when he thought about Shalltear's gleeful descriptions of torture. He couldn't even muster pity for the victims of Demiurge's twisted schemes. And the worst part? He knew, with a chilling certainty, that he wouldn't hesitate to kill, even an innocent, if they stood in his way.

    He stopped pacing, his gaze falling upon two items clutched in his hand. The Mass-Karma Reversal Token (Guildwide) and the Guild Relocation Map Token. Two Choices. Two Difficult choices that he already knew deep down had already been chosen by him in his own subconscious.

    The Karma Reversal Token was something he couldn't bring himself to use. It would fundamentally alter the NPCs, rewrite their personalities, erase the essence of his friends' creations. The thought filled him with a deep, unsettling unease. It would be a betrayal, a violation of the trust they had placed in him.

    But remaining in this portion of the world, near those terrifying gods, was not an option. He had to protect Nazarick and his guild's legacy, even if it meant running away and pushing any confrontation with them towards the future.

    He made his decision. He activated the Guild Relocation Map Token, a relic from a fortune spent in a long-forgotten gacha event in Yggdrasil. A holographic map of the New World shimmered into existence, its surface etched with lines of power, ley lines, and magical nodes. He scanned the map, his gaze settling on a remote mountain range near the Slane Theocracy.

    With a deep breath, he focused his will, channeling his magic into the token. The air crackled with energy, the room around him blurring as the spell took hold. And then, with a jolt that shook the very foundations of Nazarick, they were gone.

    The Great Tomb of Nazarick, a monument to his guild's past, vanished from its original location, reappearing in a location in the slane theocracy that was far enough from the Kingdom of Re-estize, and therefore far enough to avoid those two monstrous beings.

    It was a desperate attempt to escape the consequences of his own existence, but what else could he do?





    "Hey, Asuna," I called out, my voice echoing across the bustling village square. "You think that asshat whose fief the king reassigned to us will actually try anything? I mean, his family, of course. That guy is probably screaming for his mommy in the king's dungeons by now."

    I idly watched a group of children chasing a stray dog through the newly paved streets. Carne Village, once a dusty, rundown collection of ramshackle huts, was now a model of efficiency and order. Cobblestone streets, neat rows of well-maintained houses, a centralized water system, and even a rudimentary sewage system – all thanks to a few days of work from my robot army and Asuna's meticulous planning.

    It was almost too easy. This world, with its primitive technology and its easily manipulated populace, was like a blank canvas, just waiting for us to paint our masterpiece of world domination upon it.

    But a nagging thought kept intruding on my self-satisfied musings. If all our minds were linked, did being a clone even matter? Sure, we effectively had an extra life for each clone, but beyond that… I shook my head, dismissing the philosophical quandary. Overthinking things was a surefire way to ruin a perfectly good vacation.

    Asuna, who was overseeing the unloading of a wagon filled with supplies – mostly luxury items we'd requisitioned from the royal palace – shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, it would be really stupid if they did," she replied, her voice laced with a bored amusement. "The likelihood they have any resources after the king seized them all is pretty unlikely. As– OI! Don't drop the barrel of celes– good wine. The VERY good wine! Get your back into it!"

    I watched as Asuna, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a flash of genuine anger, berated a hapless worker who had nearly dropped a barrel of wine. Not just any wine, mind you. This was apparently Celestial Wine, it has capitalization apparently. A vintage so rare and valuable that it was said to have been aged for centuries in the cellars of the best winemaking gods. Yui had sent it over from the actual empire, as a little "care package" for her favorite parents.

    I couldn't help but chuckle. That worker was lucky Asuna hadn't turned him into a fine red mist. Dropping that barrel would have been a capital offense, punishable by- well, let's just say it wouldn't have been pretty.

    "Easy there, honey," I said, my voice laced with amusement. "It's just wine. Well, really good wine, but still."

    Asuna turned towards me, her expression softening slightly, even if it still looked like she wanted to tear someone's face off. "You know how much I love good wine, Kirito," she said, her voice a low, terrifying, murmur. "And this stuff… it's practically a national treasure. Dropping it would be a crime against humanity."

    I laughed, shaking my head. Asuna would definitely turn the idea of a dropped barrel of this kind of wine into a disaster-massacre.







    Sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. I stretched, my muscles protesting the unaccustomed softness of the bed. Beside me, Asuna yawned, her hair a tangled mess of auburn silk. We both sat up, our gazes drawn to the charred patch on the floor where the original, medieval-era excuse for a bed had once stood.

    "Well," I said, a wry grin spreading across my face, "that's one way to get rid of a fire hazard."

    Asuna snorted, running a hand through her hair. "I still can't believe how uncomfortable and disgusting that thing was. It's like that bed was designed to inflict pain. But yeah, I kind of forgot we did that."

    We decided to leave the king-sized bed in the room. After all, we could conjure up a new one anytime, anywhere. With a flick of my wrist, I erased the burn mark, restoring the floor to its pristine condition. No need to leave a trace of our divine intervention.

    We checked out of the inn, leaving a generous tip – a small fortune in this world's currency – for the bewildered staff. As we strolled through the bustling streets of E-Rantel, the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filled the air. It was a pleasant change from the usual stench of sweat and grime that permeated most medieval cities.

    We were heading towards the Adventurers Guild, ready to peruse the quest board and see what kind of "challenges" this world had to offer, when a burst of laughter caught our attention. A group of men, their attire suggesting a less-than-savory profession, were huddled in a nearby alleyway, their voices laced with a crude amusement.

    "—Heard they got a whole shipment of beauties this time," one of them chuckled, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Fresh from the Empire, they say. Those Eight Fingers bastards know how to pick 'em."

    "Yeah," another man chimed in, his voice a greasy snicker. "Heard they got a real looker this time. A noblewoman, they say. Gonna fetch a pretty penny on the market."

    Asuna froze, her body stiffening, her eyes narrowing into slits. A wave of cold fury, so intense it made the air crackle around her, emanated from her. I knew that look. It was the look of a predator about to unleash its wrath.

    Before I could even react, Asuna was gone. A blur of motion, a flicker of silver, and she was standing in the middle of the group, her rapier pointed at the throat of the first man. The men, their laughter dying in their throats, stared at her with wide, terrified eyes.

    "Tell me everything you know about this 'shipment,'" Asuna demanded, her voice a low, menacing growl. "And I mean everything."

    She didn't wait for an answer. She plunged her hand into the man's skull, her fingers glowing with an ethereal light. I watched, a mixture of fascination and horror, as she ripped the information from his mind, his screams echoing through the alleyway. She repeated the process with the other men, their minds violated, their memories laid bare.

    "I'm gonna kill the Cocco Doll motherfucker," Asuna growled, her voice shaking with rage. "Then this world will learn why they call me Slaver-Killer McSexypants."

    I sighed, shaking my head. "Yes, the nickname I gave you when we killed that Beloukas fellow," I said, my voice laced with a dry amusement. "People totally call you that, and not just me."

    "Not now, Kirito," Asuna snapped, her attention already focused on a nearby building. She'd identified the location of the slave hideout, a hidden chamber beneath a seemingly innocuous warehouse.

    "So, you know you could have just yanked the information out psychically," I said, my voice laced with a hint of amusement as I effortlessly kept pace with Asuna. She was practically flying now, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her movements a blur of motion. "Shoving your hand into their actual brain matter wasn't strictly necessary."

    "Don't care," Asuna shot back, her voice a cold, hard edge. "Slaver murdering time."

    She launched herself into the air, soaring towards a dilapidated warehouse at the edge of the city. The building, its windows boarded up, its walls crumbling, looked like it hadn't seen a lick of paint in decades. It was the perfect place for a clandestine operation, a hidden den of iniquity.

    "Right. Totally," I agreed, my grin widening. "I know these murder-rampages are important to you."

    Asuna paused mid-air, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Kirito, stop messing around," she growled, her voice laced with a warning. "We have injustices to un-justify. With death."

    And with that, she manipulated gravity, her divine power warping the very fabric of reality. She rocketed downwards, a crimson blur aimed directly at the trapdoor that led to the slave brothel. The impact was devastating. The trapdoor shattered, the stone beneath it crumbling into dust. The street itself buckled and caved in, a gaping chasm marking the spot where Asuna had descended.

    I watched the scene unfold, a mix of admiration and apprehension swirling within me. Asuna's fury was a force of nature, a righteous storm that would consume everything in its path. And those slavers… well, they were about to learn a very harsh lesson.

    This was going to be messy.

    Actually,

    "MY LEG!!!"
    "OH MY GOD, YOU KILLED GHGHGGHGHH—"
    "WE HAVE ALL ERRORED GREATLY!"

    It already was.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 32: Don't Be Ainz...
  • Threadmarks
    • I stormed through the Adventurer's Guild, ignoring the stares and whispers. My blood was boiling, fury a simmering inferno. The stench of that slaver's den, the whimpers of the terrified women, the casual cruelty… it was all still fresh in my mind.

    I burst into the Guild Master's office, ignoring the receptionist's startled cries. Pluton Ainzach, his majestic mustache bristling, started to rise from his chair, eyes widening as he registered my presence.

    A Silver Plate adventurer, barging into my office without permission? The audacity! He clearly thought it, but his expression shifted quickly, surprise replacing indignation as he saw my face, my fury.

    Before he could utter a word, I slammed the sack onto his desk. The impact echoed through the room as the contents spilled out, revealing the severed head of Cocco Doll. His face, frozen in an eternal scream, stared up at us with vacant eyes.

    "Why the FUCK was this THING, barely above a common goblin in any sort of morals, underneath your goddamn city?!" I roared, my voice shaking with rage. How dare he even think about audacity! That bastard was running a slave operation right under his nose! There's no way he didn't know! He's either incompetent or complicit. Either way, he's going to answer for this.

    Pluton froze, his eyes widening as the head rolled out of the sack. His surprise was genuine, tinged with a weary acceptance. These damn adventurers… always so impulsive. My anger faltered, a flicker of confusion replacing the white-hot rage. I delved deeper, probing his mind, searching for any hint of deception, any trace of guilt. But there was nothing. Only surprise, a touch of annoyance, and… amusement?

    He's actually happy about this? I thought, incredulous. He's not even trying to cover his ass. He's just relieved? Wait… I followed the thread of his thoughts, a sudden realization dawning on me. He wasn't happy about the slavery or about the suffering. He was happy about the opportunity to prove those other Guild Masters wrong and that a problem as actually been fixed without him calling for it.

    Those pompous fools who had scoffed at his claims about theirpower would definitely be shown his boot and they'd have to shine it with their goddamn faces.

    "Those other Guild Masters aren't going to believe this," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Just wait until I tell them about this." He glanced at the severed head, then back at me, his smile widening. "Congratulations, your Highness. You've just earned yourself an Adamantite Plate."





    Asuna stormed out of the Guild Master's office, once a whirlwind of righteous fury and barely contained frustration, now a pouting puppy of cuteness and bafflement.

    She tossed a gleaming Adamantite Plate onto the table, the metal clinking against my Silver one. I watched her go, a smirk playing on my lips. Her shoulders were slumped, her lower lip jutting out in a petulant pout.

    I picked up the silver plate and pocketed it while donning the shiny green of the Adamantite.

    "Ah, my beloved wife wants to renew her KARF membership now?" I teased, my voice laced with amusement. "Does she indeed believe that Kirito is always right? The Kirito is Always Right Foundation always needs more members. Join KARF. Admit that I was right."

    "Shut up, Kirito," she retorted, not even turning around. "Your single-member group, which I'm still not joining, still sounds like 'Barf.' Find a better acronym and a better subject."

    I chuckled, following after her as she marched towards the guild hall exit.

    "Ah, but we are both Adamantite members of the Adventurers Guild now," I said, my voice taking on a mock-serious tone.

    "We should celebrate by doing something crazy, like joining a foundation that is both awesome and, despite sounding like 'Barf,' is absolutely correct all the time." I quickened my pace, falling into step beside her.

    I couldn't resist poking the bear a little more. I swept my arm out in a grand gesture, extolling the virtues of KARF. "Imagine, Asuna, a world where everyone acknowledges my undeniable rightness! A world free from the tyranny of wrongness! It's a utopia, a paradise, a—"

    "Can we just plan our wedding before I murder you and have to revive you due to regretting it immediately?" Asuna interrupted, her voice flat, her eyes narrowed.

    I laughed, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," I said, my grin widening. "Wedding planning it is. But just know, Asuna, deep down, you know I'm right."

    She rolled her eyes, but I could see the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. We stepped out of the guild hall, the midday sun warm on our faces. The streets of E-Rantel bustled with activity, a chaotic symphony of merchants hawking their wares, adventurers boasting of their exploits, and the ever-present scent of roasted meat and ale immediately replaced by the smell of horse droppings and potential muggers being smashed to the ground by another nearby group of adventurers.

    Such society.

    It was a world ripe for the taking. But for now, we had a wedding to plan. And maybe, just maybe, I could convince Asuna to finally join KARF.

    A man can dream.





    "And I do pronounce thee man and wife, you may kiss the bride!" Renner declared, her voice ringing with a saccharine sweetness that did little to mask the calculating glint in her eyes.

    The grand hall of the former Baron Cheneko's manor, now our temporary residence, echoed with polite applause. Nobles, merchants, and even a few high-ranking adventurers had gathered to witness the union of the "foreign prince" and his "duchess." It was a lavish affair, a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and power designed to solidify our position within the kingdom's hierarchy.

    Renner, ever the schemer, had insisted on officiating the ceremony. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, calculating the political advantages of aligning herself with us. But I didn't care. I had Asuna, and that was all that mattered.

    As for the "kiss the bride" part… well, Asuna decided to take that quite literally. She grabbed me, pulled me close, and kissed me with a fiery passion that sent a jolt of electricity through my entire being. The polite applause turned into awkward coughs and muffled whispers as Asuna, with a mischievous grin, dragged me away from the bewildered crowd.

    Hours later, we returned to the party, our faces flushed, our clothes slightly disheveled. The guests, their expressions a mix of amusement and thinly veiled disapproval, pretended not to notice the sparkling smiles and the lingering scent of arousal that clung to us.

    I approached Gazef, intending to inquire about the situation with the Slane Theocracy. "The Slane Theocracy has been silent for a while," he began, his voice a low rumble, "and that doesn't bode—"

    His words were cut off by a thunderous crash. The doors to the hall burst open, splintering into a thousand pieces as a figure in a crimson red suit and an ornate, skull-shaped mask strode into the room. He radiated an aura of arrogance and power, his every movement a calculated display of dominance.

    "Hello, wonderful partygoers!" he boomed, his voice amplified by some unseen magical force. "My name is Jaldabaoth, and—"

    Asuna and I exchanged a look. A silent understanding passed between us. This asshole, this wannabe demon lord, had just interrupted our wedding. And we were going to make him pay.

    Styling on this clown would be the perfect way to celebrate our union.

    "When hope is lost, undo this lock, and send us forth on a moonlit walk!" I roared with asuna in unison, as my voice echoed with power. "RELEASE RESTRAINT LEVEL ZERO, FULL ANCESTRAL TREE OF WORLDS!"

    The air crackled with energy, the very fabric of reality warping around us as we released a sliver of the full extent of our divine might. The guests, their faces pale with terror, scrambled for cover as a blinding light engulfed the room.

    Jaldabaoth, his mask cracking under the strain of our combined power just appearing in his vicinity, let out a startled gasp. He had no idea what he was up against and he was about to find out.

    "I can do this for five seconds!" I shouted, my voice laced with a mock urgency that barely concealed my amusement. "We need to finish him now, and using it all at once, due to his immense power, is the only option!"

    The truth was, this Jaldabaoth fellow, whose mind reeked of a sickeningly familiar blend of cruelty and meticulous planning, was nothing more than a minor annoyance.

    A gnat buzzing around our heads. But, hey, a little theatrics never hurt anyone.

    Especially when it came to crushing your enemies-,

    seeing them driven before you, and hearing the lamentations of their women.

    Okay, I need to stop reading the minds of goddamn sociopathic demons!

    "Then let's do a combined attack!" Asuna declared, matching my faux-gravitas with a theatrical flourish.

    We raised our hands, our forms shimmering with an illusory brilliance. Our armor, a gaudy spectacle of gold and silver, pulsed with fake energy, a deliberate choice to further sell the act. A beam of combined energy, a concentrated blast of pure, unadulterated divine power, erupted from our outstretched hands, engulfing Jaldabaoth in a blinding white light.

    The air crackled with the remnants of our attack as the light faded, revealing nothing but a scorched patch of ground where the "demon lord" had once stood. We staggered back, feigning exhaustion, our chests heaving with exaggerated breaths.

    "We only needed two seconds," I gasped, wiping a nonexistent bead of sweat from my brow. "But any longer, and we wouldn't have been able to fight them."

    Right on cue, a group of figures emerged from the dissipating smoke. Maids in elaborate, weaponized armor, their expressions a mix of concern and awe, rushed towards us. At the back of the group, a woman in full black armor, a massive poleaxe strapped to her back, watched us with an unnerving intensity.

    Two of the invaders, the maid and the armored woman, triggered a deep suspicion within me. Their thoughts, a chaotic blend of fanatical devotion and disturbingly familiar cruelty, set off alarm bells in my mind.

    No… it had to be a trick. But this was too damn coincidental.

    A chill ran down my spine, a prickle of unease that transcended the usual amusement I felt at this world's antics. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I discreetly activated my mental link with Yui, sending a quick, urgent message.

    "Yui, darling, could you please check if a god with this description exists in any of the local multiverses?" I followed the thought with a quick memory transfer, a snapshot of the ludicrous deity Ainz had fabricated for his backstory.

    A brief pause, then a wave of information flowed back from Yui. Another pause, longer this time, filled with the whirring of her processing power as she cross-referenced data and analyzed probabilities. And then, her response arrived, a bombshell that sent my anger skyrocketing to a whole new level.

    "Sorry, Papa, that god seems to be a 'nebulously fictional' amalgamation. Also known as a thought form that has not formed an actual related world or existence. It seems to be a fictional mix of extremely evil, bad-actor individuals. Gods who, by any other name, would be 'giant assholes,' and I couldn't justify that statement without showing you their profiles. But trust me. Being X, a real narcissist, Vysis, who is actually insane, a false goddess named Ehit, an extremely annoying goddess named Megami who is obsessed with handsome and beautiful people, and, most damningly… Medea, you know, the goddess whom I absorbed."

    The pieces clicked into place, a horrifying mosaic of realization. The maid with Nabe's thought patterns, the armored woman with an amplified version of Albedo's obsessive devotion, all fixated on someone named "Momonga." And that ridiculous reincarnation story… it never made sense. Not really.

    A wave of unhinged, incandescent rage washed over me.

    Then I laughed. The choking pausing and insane sound of it echoing everywhere.

    My laughter turned into a harsh, grating sound and echoed through the manor and beyond, bouncing off the walls, startling the nearby guests as they backed away in terror.

    Then, just as abruptly as it began, it stopped.

    The mask of amusement shattered, replaced by a cold fury that made the air crackle around me.

    Space cracked as my eye twitched and I was sure a blood vessel would have broken if I wasn't so damn durable.

    My rage had fucking broken and I was going to BREAK SOME FUCKING BONES!

    "VACATION IS FUCKING OVER, MOMON THE MOMONGA FUCKING AINZ OOAL GOWN FAKE BACKSTORY DICKBAG!"

    My voice, amplified by a surge of divine power, boomed through the broken hall, smashed its way around the villa, then the area around it until the very air itself vibrated with uncontained fury.

    The guests, their faces pale with terror, shrank back towards the far wall as I turned towards the group of maids, my eyes burning with an icy fire.

    The game was over. It was time to settle the score.

    "Hi toys. How am I going to break you?"





    -DICKBAG!"

    Wow! This humble narrator definitely FELT those words, even from here!

    Ahem.

    Deep within the echoing halls of the relocated Nazarick, a chill wind seemed to whisper through the grand chamber as the last word finished. A certain former skeleton, whose offhand comment about to Albedo about a wedding along with a fictional god created by text magic- had his situation spiraled into a full-blown, multiversal shitstorm!

    That former skeleton felt a familiar tremor of fear rattle his newly-crafted body of not-just-bones. Even the comforting hum of his World Item, tucked away in his Combat Slot, couldn't dispel the creeping dread that clawed at his soul.

    He had fucked up.

    Royally.

    Monumentally.

    And even Catastrophically!

    It seems he was absolutely, undeniably, irrevocably     fucked.

    How many bones would the former Bone Daddy lose before he was reduced to a skeleton once more, or even a quivering pile of calcium and regret? Or would he simply melt into a puddle of shame and irrational fear as well as a cautionary tale whispered through the smallest multiversal clusters?

    This narrator, usually a beacon of snarky amusement and fourth-wall-breaking commentary, is genuinely terrified to find out! But if     you're brave enough, dear reader, if you possess the fortitude to witness the impending carnage, the inevitable clash of gods and a very confused salaryman… then join us next time on: "Ainz Ooal Gown Shits Itself in Particular, and the Multiverse Better Damn Well Wait!"
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Remove ads
    Vote for the next world!
  • Voting
    • Yui has fun in Symphogear while making regular calls to mom and dad about how much fun she is having in anime-anime death world of super-anime[]

    Asuna, Kirito and Yui Go to Tsukimichi: Moonlit fantasy as a family outing.[]

    Re: zero's Natsuki Subaru starts over from the beginning and gets a training cheat known as Kirito's training every time he dies, and then the family watches him fix the world. Then they conquer it. But Subaru still gets two Oni Maids and a half-elf waifu plus best-platonic-spirit as the BEST end anyway.[]

    Other[]
     
  • Voting
    • [X] Mega Man X, an arc based around Xtreme 2, X4 and X5. A mysterious entity detects that there is a digital goddess exploring the multiverse, and oops, that's Yui. The entity is discovered to be the Soul Erasers; which they deal with, but... there is a real threat to Yui at there... a digital virus attacking reploids for the past few years. Sigma.
     
    RadiantGV said:
    [X] Mega Man X, an arc based around Xtreme 2, X4 and X5. A mysterious entity detects that there is a digital goddess exploring the multiverse, and oops, that's Yui. The entity is discovered to be the Soul Erasers; which they deal with, but... there is a real threat to Yui at there... a digital virus attacking reploids for the past few years. Sigma.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    That's a curbstomp and not a threat at all.

    She's not an AI anymore. She just has the processing power of such and the technopathy.

    Also they'd have to go in by rewinding to before the human extinction so theyd turn sigma into a checkovs gun the moment there was a hint of it.

    They would rather do that then deal with taking over a wasteland filled with sapient robots.
     
    Last edited:
    Zackman2k12 said:
    That's a curbstomp and not a threat at all.

    She's not an AI anymore. She just has the processing power of such and the technopathy.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Still would be kinda fun to see how our Multiversal gods deal with a robot corruptor. Also, thinking about it, I kinda imagine Yui's perspective from the mind of a former AI would help a few individuals out immensely (I can name one brunette lady in particular who's views on humanity needs a bit of a reshaping, and I have an unapologetic Iris Bias) but also they'd be able to stop Eurasia from falling or just take over Final Weapon outright, and that could be fun because what's better than one space laser? Two space lasers.

    There still could be some interesting moral discussions when you deal with a war between Mavericks and Maverick Hunters and the Repliforce.

    Also, this could then be modified into a starship and bam, we have a starship and you can't tell me Kirito wouldn't absolutely love it. Honestly, though, Sigma needs a good curbstomping.
     
    [X] Asuna, Kirito, and Yui comision Pegasus to design them bespoke Cards to fix the local multiverse through Dueling, as Kaiba seethes with impotent rage and Yugi's luck finally runs out.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 33: the 'Yurusenai!'ing of the antagonist where the 'You Monster! I'll Kill You!" Rule of fiction is invoked.
  • Threadmarks
    • "Since my vacation has been oh so wonderfully interrupted, along with the after-party for MY GODDAMN WEDDING," I roared, my voice amplified by a surge of divine power, echoing across the entire world, "all of you have gone well beyond signing your death warrants! Congrats on pissing me off so much that I've decided that you are, in fact, ALREADY DEAD!"

    The last word left my mouth, and the world snapped. The invading undead froze, their expressions locked in masks of shock and dawning horror. Time, a plaything in my hands, accelerated around them, a localized distortion that aged them in the blink of an eye.

    Their armor, once gleaming and menacing, crumbled into rust, flaking away like ancient parchment. Their flesh, preserved by unnatural means, withered and decayed, ravaged by the relentless march of time. Even their souls, tethered to their bodies by twisted magic, felt the strain, the agonizing weight of millennia compressed into mere moments.

    Outside of their personal bubbles of accelerated time, only seconds ticked by. Ten seconds for the lesser undead to rot away, their bones turning to dust. Fifty seconds for the maids, their youthful faces collapsing into wizened masks of decay, their bodies shrinking into brittle husks.

    Albedo, her arrogant confidence shattered, her beauty ravaged by the relentless passage of time, aged the slowest. A minute and twenty seconds. It was enough to watch her haughty features crumple, her proud form shrinking, her horns cracking and fading. She was a withered crone, a pathetic parody of her former self, before she finally succumbed to the inevitable.

    Three minutes. That's all it took for the entire invading force to turn to dust, their existence erased by the cruel, inexorable flow of time.

    Inside their frozen prisons, however, eons had passed. Millennia of agonizing decay, of watching their bodies crumble, their minds unraveling under the strain of unending time. It was a punishment far more fitting than a quick death, a lesson in the futility of defying a god.

    I gathered their souls, those flickering embers of consciousness, and with a touch of my divine power, I cleansed them. Their memories, their personalities, their very identities, were wiped clean, leaving behind only blank slates, empty vessels ready to be reborn. Their punishment was over. Their suffering had ended.

    "Found it," Asuna said, her voice a sharp and snapping sound of rage that cut through the lingering silence. She rose into the air, her form shimmering as she activated her gravity manipulation abilities. She shot off towards the horizon, a crimson blur that shattered the sound barrier with a thunderous boom.

    "Wait up!" I shouted, activating my own spatial manipulation powers. The world blurred, reality twisting and folding upon itself as I followed Asuna, our destination clear: the heart of the Slane Theocracy.

    The game was over. It was time to bring down the curtain on this farce. And those who had dared to interrupt our wedding… well, they were about to learn the true meaning of divine retribution well beyond the standard definition.





    Twenty seconds. That's all it took to cross the vast expanse between the ruined manor and the Slane Theocracy border. The wind screamed past my ears, a symphony of fury that mirrored the storm raging within me. Below, the landscape blurred into a chaotic tapestry of greens and browns, the world itself seeming to shrink beneath my divine power.

    A cold rage, a chilling fury unlike anything I'd ever felt before, pulsed through my veins. It wasn't the hot, baleful rage I usually felt, the kind that fueled my righteous anger against slavers and injustice. This was different. This was… icy. A relentless, gnawing fury that looped back on itself, a cycle of ice and fire that chilled me to the core even as it burned with an intensity that threatened to consume me.

    I didn't let it bother me. I couldn't. There was a job to do, a score to settle. Those bastards, those undead and demonic bastards, had dared to interrupt our wedding. They had dared to bring their violence, their darkness, into our moment of joy. And now, they would pay.

    I slammed through the roof of the first floor, my arrival heralded by a thunderous crash of splintering wood and shattered stone. The air reeked of decay, a sickening blend of added rot that made my stomach churn.

    I moved, a blur of motion, a crimson whirlwind of death. Room by room, I tore through the facility, my rapier a silver flash, my divine power unleashed. Monsters, grotesque parodies of nature, disintegrated into clouds of black and purple mist. Humanoid figures, their eyes wide with terror, their bodies twisted by dark magic, exploded into sprays of green, yellow, and brown. Rarely did any of them bleed red.

    It was a massacre, a symphony of destruction orchestrated by none other than myself. I was and am a goddess scorned. And I reveled in the deaths of these rotten fools.

    Kirito caught up just as I reached the throne room, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and manic glee mixed with the same look of rage that I felt. The doors, massive slabs of iron bound with arcane symbols, pulsed with a dark energy that would have made even the most seasoned adventurer hesitate. But I didn't hesitate. I didn't even slow down.

    I slammed into the doors, my divine power over mass and momentum shattering them into a thousand pieces. The throne room, a cavernous space filled with shiny and pointless gothic decorations and the lingering stench of death, was filled with figures clad in black robes and bone-white armor. At the center of it all, seated upon a throne of twisted bone and obsidian, sat a figure that made my blood run cold.

    It was Momon, except the leather armor was gone, replaced by A fancy purple robe. His eyes were empty but his mind was a mess.

    "I. Am. Done. You. Goddamn. Motherfucking. Skeleton. In A Flesh Sack Of Evil Shit!" I roared, my voice echoing through the chamber, each word a hammer blow of fury.

    My rage, a storm of ice and fire, consumed me. It was time to end this.





    Asuna's rage was a tangible thing, a crackling storm of divine energy that filled the throne room. I watched her, a mixture of pride and apprehension swirling within me. My own anger burned, but a part of me, the analytical, strategic part that never truly switched off, was fixated on the figure seated upon that grotesque throne.

    Momon. Or rather, the thing that I couldn't goddamn figure out just sat there.

    His eyes were empty, his posture slumped, his entire being radiating an aura of defeat. He was waiting for the end, accepting his fate with a passivity that was both unsettling and… strangely familiar.

    I focused my perception, my enhanced senses peeling back the layers of his psyche like an onion. It was a mess. A chaotic jumble of conflicting personalities, each one vying for dominance.

    There was the "Many Lives Justice" persona, a carefully crafted narrative of heroic deeds and tragic sacrifices. It was a compelling story, a tapestry of sorrow and determination woven together with threads of righteous anger. But it was also utterly fake. A fabrication designed to evoke sympathy, to deflect scrutiny.

    Beneath that, I found the "Unknowable Evil" personality, the one that radiated an aura of cold, calculating malice. This was the persona Ainz had presented during our first encounter, the one that had triggered my initial suspicion. But even this, I now realized, was a facade. A mask designed to intimidate, to instill fear.

    And then, at the core of it all, I found it. The "Salaryman" image. The pathetic, overwhelmed soul of a man thrust into a situation far beyond his comprehension. He was lost, confused, drowning in a sea of responsibilities he never asked for.

    This has to be another fake, I thought, my mind reeling. It's too perfect. Too pathetic. He's playing us.

    But something wasn't right. This "salaryman" persona… it felt… real. The despair, the confusion, the utter lack of malice… it was all too genuine. But how could that be? This was the leader of a force that had committed atrocities on a scale that made my skin crawl. He'd turned the Slane Theocracy into a nightmarish landscape of death and suffering.

    There had to be something I was missing. Some hidden layer of deception, some master plan I hadn't uncovered.

    With a surge of divine power, I ripped away the illusions, the obfuscations, the carefully constructed facades. I flooded the room with a truth-compelling aura, making it impossible to lie, to deceive, to hide. And then, Ainz's "Perfectly Unknowable: Alignment" skill, the one that had projected both absolute good and absolute evil, shattered. It crumbled away, revealing…

    The salaryman. Just the salaryman. His face, no longer hidden behind a mask of false heroism, was etched with a deep, bone-weary sadness. His eyes, no longer glowing with an unnatural light, were dull, lifeless.

    "The… fuck?" was all I could manage, my voice a strangled whisper.

    This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. But it was. The truth, stark and undeniable, stood before me. Ainz Ooal Gown, the "Supreme Being," the "Overlord of Death," was nothing more than a pathetic, incompetent fool.

    "You fucking asinine moron!" I roared, my voice echoing through the chamber. "Saying the words 'Stop everything and interpret my words literally' would have saved millions of lives! And yet you just… let them run rampant!"

    My anger, a white-hot inferno, burned with a new intensity. This wasn't just about our interrupted wedding. This was about the countless lives lost, the unimaginable suffering inflicted, all because of this… this idiot's inability to lead, to control, to even understand the consequences of his actions or lack thereof!

    Ainz didn't even flinch as I unleashed my fury. He just sat there, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the shattered throne room doors, his expression a mask of weary resignation. It was like he'd already given up, accepted his fate as a foregone conclusion.

    My anger faltered, a flicker of confusion replacing the white-hot rage. I focused my perception, my divine senses probing deeper, seeking the source of his apathy. And then I saw it. His karmic value. Or rather, his two karmic values.

    One was a -170, a number that reeked of negligence, of inaction, of allowing evil to flourish unchecked. It was the karma of someone who had committed war crimes not through direct action, but through a passive acceptance of the horrors unfolding around him.

    But the other… the other was a -999. A number so deeply negative, so utterly devoid of any redeeming qualities, that it made my skin crawl. It was the karma of someone who had embraced the darkest impulses of their soul, someone whose gluttony, greed, and apathy towards life itself knew no bounds. And it was leaking, slowly but surely, into that -170, corrupting it, dragging it further into the abyss.

    "I just don't care anymore," I said, my voice weary, my anger draining away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. "Keep your goddamn impossible secrets of why you have two karma numbers and just fucking let me go home. I want to see my daughter. I want to sleep in my palace. Hell, I just want to do bureaucracy and rule my multiversal nation so I can prove to myself I will never be as apathetic as you."

    I drew my sword, its black blade humming with divine power. Asuna, her eyes mirroring my own weariness, drew her rapier, its silver tip glowing with a cold, hard light.

    "I'm going home," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Just after I do this."

    I plunged my sword into Ainz's chest, the blade piercing his flesh, his bone, his very soul. Asuna, her movements synchronized with mine, drove her rapier through his forehead, the tip emerging from the back of his skull. Ainz, Momon, whoever the hell he was… he didn't even react. He just stared at us, his empty eyes reflecting the flames that were already consuming him.

    "Let's go home, Asuna," I said, watching as Ainz's body dissolved into ashes, his soul, a flickering ember of darkness, extinguished by the cleansing fire of our divine power.

    "Yeah," Asuna replied, her voice quiet and exhausted. "I'm tired. Let's go see Yui."

    We turned and walked away, leaving behind the remnants of a shattered empire and a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked ambition of one's subordinates and the corrosive nature of apathy. It was time to go home. To a world where we could be gods, yes, but also parents, rulers, and, most importantly… humane.





    And so the—
    You know what? Fuck this. I'm out.

    Ainz, the Supreme Being, the Overlord of Death, the guy who was supposed to be the big bad, the ultimate challenge… he just…     poofed. No epic battle, no grand pronouncements, no final, desperate gambit. Just… ashes. And a really depressing karmic value.

    I'm disappointed. You're probably disappointed. Hell, even the pigeons outside my window are giving me the side-eye.

    This isn't how it was supposed to go. Where's the drama? The tension? The existential dread? I signed up for a multiversal shitstorm, not a cosmic tea party!

    I'm going to go find that bar at the edge of the narrative, the one where the eldritch bartenders serve drinks that taste like existential despair and regret. Maybe I'll get lucky and bump into a nihilistic squirrel or a depressed deity with a drinking problem. At least they'll understand my pain.

    As for the rest of this… this…     thing… I don't even know what to call it anymore. Do what you want. Conquer worlds, build empires, have tea parties with cosmic horrors. I don't care. I'm officially checked out.

    So, yeah… Find out next time on… I Don't Give a Damn.



    The narrator stumbles off, muttering about the futility of existence and the disappointing lack of epic boss battles.


    A/N:
    Hey guys, I had a ton of fun writing this arc even if writing all the evil characters that I SOMEHOW cared about even if they were evil AF deaths was hard.

    The hardest part was the final scene with Kirito's rage just fizzling out and Ainz having given up due to everybody dying.
    Existentially depressed Ainz was hard to write. It hurt me but it was the only way this was going to end. I had the outline of that scene for this arc mostly fleshed out for ten days and I just needed to add detail.
    So, who's ready for the next arc?!
    SOOOOOON!
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Yui has fun in Symphogear while making regular calls to mom and dad about how much fun she is having in anime-anime death world of super-anime[x]
     
    Chapter 34: How to get dogpiled by godslayers (Pre-Arc-3 sidestory.)
  • Threadmarks
    • The New World, a swirling blue and green sphere, shimmered as I exerted my will upon it. With a negligent wave of my hand, I ripped it from its original location in the solar system of that portion of the universe in a multiverse that sometimes really pissed me off, depositing it neatly within the ever-expanding cluster of worlds that constituted our empire. It settled into its new not-orbit, nestled comfortably beside our handful of other conquered realms, each one a marvel of enhancement made by all the good shit a utopia could need. No suffering Pit-Child necessary! Underlying evil not included!







    Somewhere at an incomprehensible point in a dimensional substrate that made sense only to those who could shit on the fourth wall, a certain narrator spat out an expensive (to the point of irrational imaginary numbers) drink and stared incredulously in a nonexistent direction. He took off his tophat in shock and threw his monocle in a direction so fast that a solar system accidentally exploded twelve dimensions away simply due to the extra-luminal reality-breaker object passing nearby. "... You have an intelligence divinity! How can you actually believe that?! You goddamn oblivious mo-"







    I dispatched the robots, legions of gleaming metal and whirring gears, to begin the process of integration and, let's be honest, subjugation. One of my hive clones wandered off, its mind already buzzing with plans for infrastructure improvements, educational reforms, and the implementation of a comprehensive social credit system. Another clone, the one with a particular fondness for engineering, disappeared into a newly constructed workshop, its thoughts consumed by designs for even more efficient, even more terrifying Divine Enforcement Bots.

    Asuna's clones, their tasks equally divided between administration, crafting, detailed management of things I can't comprehend simply because I don't want to, and the occasional bout of divinely-enhanced baking. They dispersed throughout the newly acquired world, the older parts of the empire, and this planetary divine seat.

    The Asuna whom had the most attention on it, making it the prime Asuna currently, the one whose hand I held, let out a weary sigh.

    We were back in the palace, our true forms lounging on a ridiculously comfortable couch that could probably survive a small planet exploding. But despite the luxurious surroundings and the sense of accomplishment that came with conquering yet another world, a strange emptiness gnawed at me.

    My body ached, my mind felt sluggish, and a deep, primal urge to punch something, anything, pulsed within me. It was a physical manifestation of the pent-up frustration, the lingering anger, the sheer rage of finding an adversary that pretended to be a peer by accident, destroyed a country by inaction, and then proceeded to give the fuck up.

    "Yui," I said, my voice flat, devoid of its usual amusement, "take me to a world with a good fight. One I have a high chance of losing at."

    Yui, who was hovering nearby, her form flickering with a faint, ethereal glow, looked at me with wide, horrified eyes. "Reckless father says what?!" she shrieked, her voice laced with panic. "How about you explain before I have some of MY robots put you on suicide watch! You can't be serious, Father!"

    "No! No! I just want to send in one of my hive clones!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in exasperation as my eyes widened in panic. "I want to punch something, but I'm not goddamn suicidal!"

    Yui blinked, her expression shifting from panic to confusion. A long, awkward silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the soft hum of the palace's energy systems.

    "Oh." she finally said, her voice small and sheepish.

    With a wave of her hand, she cloaked the empire, our cluster of worlds vanishing from view, hidden from the prying eyes of any potential interdimensional threats. Then, with another wave, a new world materialized before us. It was a vibrant blue and green sphere, a planet that, at first glance, looked remarkably similar to Earth. But something about it felt… off. A subtle energy, a hum of power that hinted at something ancient and dangerous, emanated from its core.

    "Have fun, Papa," Yui said, her voice regaining its usual cheerful lilt. "Dying is stupid, so just make sure to cut the connection from your hive clone when you're sure you're about to die."

    I gave her a thumbs-up, a surge of excitement replacing the previous boredom. Beside me, Asuna, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light, nodded in agreement. Another hive clone split off from each of us, their forms shimmering as they took on a life of their own. And then, with a shared grin and a reckless abandon that belied our godhood, we plunged into the atmosphere of a world like earth.

    One teeming with god slayers and heretic gods.






    A psychic scream, a wave of raw terror and existential dread, ripped through the collective consciousness of the Campione. Seven individuals, scattered across the globe, each bearing the mantle of god-slaying power, shuddered as the chilling cry echoed in their minds.





    Kusanagi Godou

    Godou, a nineteen-year-old burdened with the mantle of Campione, flinched, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his wooden sword. The scream, a raw, primal fear, sent a shiver down his spine. Information, fragmented and chaotic, flooded his mind. An existential threat, a convergence of unimaginable power, a desperate plea for aid. His heart pounded in his chest, a primal instinct urging him towards the source of the disturbance. The King of Chaos Moved towards LA while trying to leave his overpowered harem out of the situation. Of course they found out and followed him anyway.





    Salvatore Doni

    Salvatore Doni lounged on a pristine beach in the Florida Keys, a smug grin playing on his lips. He was deliberately trespassing on another Campione's territory, a playful jab at the superhero wannabe who called this entire country his own. Relaxation, however, was abruptly shattered by the psychic scream. His grin vanished, replaced by a frown of annoyance.

    Even for him, a Campione who reveled in chaos and conflict, this was… unsettling. Pandora, her voice choked with panic, echoed in his mind, begging for assistance, for a gathering of all Campione to face a threat she couldn't even fully comprehend. He sighed, his eyes narrowing. Duty called, and even a lazy Devil King couldn't ignore a summons of this magnitude.





    Luo Hao

    Luo Hao, the Campione of china, a woman whose youthful appearance belied two centuries of experience, was on a shopping trip. She paused, a silk scarf held aloft in her hand, her cheerfully haughty expression momentarily replaced by a blank stare. The scream, a jarring dissonance in her ancient mind, echoed with a desperate urgency. Pandora, her voice trembling, pleaded for aid against an unknown, powerful force. Luo Hao scowled, her annoyance quickly turning to a cold fury. She had an unknown pair of gods, beings who somehow defied categorization, to deal with. And she wouldn't tolerate any interruptions to her shopping spree.





    Aisha

    Madame Aisha, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a petulant pout, strode down a bustling city street. Voban, her beloved friend, wasn't answering her calls, and boredom gnawed at her. Perhaps she should pay him a visit, just to liven things up a bit- or maybe Godou. Then, the scream. Pandora's panicked plea for help, a call to arms against a terrifying, unknown enemy. Aisha's pout vanished, replaced by a wide, cheerful smile yet again. A to fight alongside her fellow Campione, to vanquish evil! Splendid!





    Voban

    Voban, the Balkan's King, stared at the cell phone in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He poked at the screen, his fingers tracing the smooth surface. He knew he was supposed to "swipe left" to answer a call, but… swipe what? The phone remained stubbornly silent. Then, the scream. It ripped through his mind, a wave of raw panic that sent him stumbling back, his hand instinctively reaching for his Singing spellbook and teleported to Los Angeles. He understood now. There would be no need for phone calls. He would be meeting Aisha in person. And something told him it wouldn't be a pleasant reunion.





    John Pluto Smith (Annie Charlton)

    Annie Charlton, her John Pluto Smith persona firmly in place, scowled beneath her mask. Los Angeles. Of course, they had to meet in Los Angeles. The entire city would be leveled! The thought of her carefully crafted image, her reputation as a flamboyant hero, being shattered by a battle of this magnitude filled her with a frustrated rage. "FUUUUUU—" she roared, her voice muffled by her mask.





    Ren Rokuhara

    Ren Rokuhara, the other Japanese Campione, sat in a bustling diner, a half-eaten burger and a lukewarm soda before him. He'd been looking forward to a rare day off, a chance to relax and enjoy the simple pleasures of a normal life. The psychic scream, however, shattered his peaceful interlude. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. He'd known it was too good to last. "There goes my free day," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the swirling patterns in his soda. Duty called.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Post arc 2 power scale.
  • Informational
    • there's a difference between power while within 'worlds in the empire' then 'At the planetary seat of power.'

    They are at their weakest when outside of those two places. They're small country level when on a normal world. (Assuming access to their divinity.)

    Right around the center of power between city and mountain level if their divinity is somehow cut off or suppressed.

    moon level when on a world in the empire that isn't their seat of power.

    and between planet level and large planet level when in the vicinity of their palace.

    Yui's power works a bit differently.

    Continent level when on a normal world. (Assuming access to her divinity.)

    Small country level (if her divinity is somehow cut off or suppressed.)

    normal Planet level when on a world in the empire that isn't their seat of power.

    Small Star level when in the vicinity of their palace.

    Also she has the immortal object ability that rejects the concept of taking damage and only works because "fuck logic, divinity, and common sense, I'm Yui so fuck you! Language is both japanese and english! Would you like me to switch to Reverse celtic japanese? Because a conceptual language like that might just end up making you insane! How fun!"
     
  • Informational
    • Chapter 35: The sad story of a pair of hive-clones getting curb-stomped.
  • Threadmarks
    • The salty tang of the Pacific Ocean filled my nostrils as we materialized on the deserted pier. The Santa Monica Ferris wheel, a skeletal silhouette against the twilight sky, stood motionless, its usual activity extinguished. The air, thick with a humid silence, was devoid of the usual cacophony of city sounds. No car horns, no distant sirens, no laughter from tourists. It was like stepping into a ghost town, a surreal scene of normally impossible urban stillness.

    "Looks like we were somehow expected," I said, raising an eyebrow at Asuna. Even with our powers suppressed, the sheer emptiness of the city was unnerving. It reeked of a carefully orchestrated trap, a stage set for a confrontation.

    Asuna opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, seven figures materialized around us, forming an equidistant circle. They appeared out of thin air, their movements as silent and precise as a well-oiled machine.

    My gaze swept across the group, my enhanced senses taking in every detail, every nuance of their presence.

    A nun, or perhaps some kind of female pope, clad in flowing blue and white robes, stood directly in front of us. A serene smile graced her lips, a gentle warmth radiating from her that seemed at odds with the tension crackling in the air.

    Beside her, a Chinese woman, her posture radiating a practiced martial grace, exuded an air of haughty arrogance. She looked like an old lady trying desperately to appear young, her movements a bizarre blend of youthful energy and ancient wisdom.

    Two Japanese college students, one in a crisp white button-down shirt and black slacks, the other in an all-black uniform, stood opposite each other. The first, his face etched with a weary resignation, seemed to be wishing he were anywhere but here. The second, his expression a mask of irritation, glared at us with a barely concealed hostility.

    An old man, his features sharp and angular, his eyes like chips of ice, stood to my right. He radiated an aura of stoic, no-nonsense badassery, his presence as solid and unyielding as a mountain. He held a thick, leather-bound tome in his hand, its pages turning rapidly, as if animated by an unseen force.

    A blonde man in swim trunks, his physique sculpted and tanned, lounged casually to my left. He managed to look simultaneously irritated, bored, and smug, a feat I found both impressive and vaguely annoying.

    And finally, directly behind us, stood a figure clad in a gleaming, metallic suit of armor. A superhero, his face hidden behind a mask that I suspected usually concealed a flamboyant personality. But right now, he radiated a cold, focused malice that made my skin crawl. Strangely, beneath the masculine armor, I sensed a feminine anger, a dissonance that added another layer of unease to the already tense situation.

    The book in the old man's hand slammed shut with a loud clap, the sound echoing through the silent city. It was a signal, a call to arms.

    "Now!" the old man roared, his voice a thunderous boom that shattered the stillness.

    The nun, her serene smile unwavering, produced a golden bell from beneath her robes. She raised a small hammer, and with a speed that defied normal human comprehension, she struck the bell in such quick succession that a normal person would only see and hear a single clang- 108 times. The air shimmered with golden light, the sound of the bell's reverberations merging into a single, continuous tone that seemed to vibrate the very air around us.

    The light converged on the book in the old man's hand, bathing it in a blinding radiance. The tome pulsed, its pages opening again and turning faster than before, a whirlwind of arcane symbols and ancient script. A wave of energy, cold and oppressive, washed over the battlefield, a tangible force that pressed down on us, constricting our movements, stealing our breath.

    My senses screamed a warning. This was no ordinary magic. This was something different. Something powerful to the absolute extreme.

    And then, I felt it. My divinity, the very essence of my godhood, was being suppressed. Eighty percent, gone in an instant, sealed away by a force that dwarfed anything I'd encountered before.

    Before I could even process the implications of this sudden power loss, the book in the old man's hand snapped shut, its now sealed pages glowing with an eerie light. And then, the world exploded into motion.

    The Japanese college student in the white shirt, his expression hardening into a grim determination, drew a massive, golden sword from thin air. The Chinese woman, her haughty demeanor replaced by a predatory focus, launched herself forward, her movements a blur of martial grace.

    And then they were upon us, a whirlwind of steel and divine power. The air crackled with energy as the nun's bell chimed again, its sound echoing with an unnatural resonance. The old man's magical blasts, amplified by the bell's effects, slammed into Asuna, forcing her to momentarily shield herself with a radiant barrier.

    The white-shirted student, his form now encased in shimmering silver armor, swung his golden sword with a speed and precision that belied its size. I met his attack head-on, my twin black swords clashing against his golden blade, sparks flying as our weapons met. The force of the impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air, shattering the concrete beneath our feet and sending chunks of the pier flying into the ocean.

    I parried a blow aimed at my head, the force of the impact vibrating through my arms, numbing my hands. I countered with a thrust, my left-hand sword, Uno-Reversidator, aimed at his chest, utilizing the precise, controlled movements of a new style I called 'Not Aincrad Style Anymore Because I'm A Badass Style'. He deflected it with ease, his golden blade a wall of shimmering steel.

    He pressed his attack, a relentless storm of blows that forced me onto the defensive. I danced back, my right-hand sword, Black Divine's Grand Repulsor, blurring into a defensive whirlwind, the fluid, unpredictable movements of one of my new my self-created styles, 'The Even My Sword Is Always Right' style deflecting his attacks. But his strength was overwhelming, each blow carrying the weight of a god.

    With a roar, he unleashed a flurry of strikes, his golden sword leaving trails of shimmering light in the air. I parried desperately, my swords singing a song of steel, but I was losing ground. He drove me back, step by step, the force of his blows shattering the pavement and nearby buildings, sending chunks of asphalt flying.

    Then, with a final, thunderous blow, he sent me crashing into the iconic Hollywood sign, the letters exploding into dust as I slammed into the hillside.

    I scrambled to my feet, my armor dented, my breath ragged. The student, his silver armor gleaming in the moonlight, stood over me, his golden sword raised. He was breathing heavily, but his gaze was unwavering, his determination absolute.

    I glanced around, my heart sinking as I realized Asuna was no longer by my side. The other four god slayers, their movements too fast for me to track, had separated us, a classic divide-and-conquer tactic.

    It seemed the Chinese woman had gone with them too.

    The old man, his eyes glowing with an eerie light, raised his hand. The air around him shimmered, a translucent barrier of energy forming around his body. The nun, her serene smile replaced by a cold, focused intensity, rang her bell again as it disappeared in a flash of light.

    This time, the sound was different. A chilling, bone-deep cold emanated from her body, a wave of freezing energy that bypassed my resistance to cold entirely. I shuddered, my breath catching in my throat.

    The white-shirted student, his silver armor now glowing with a fiery red light, raised his golden sword.

    My grip tightened on my swords, the metal warm beneath my gauntlets. A primal thrill, a surge of adrenaline fueled by the sheer impossibility of the situation, coursed through me. They were strong. Stronger than anything I'd encountered before. But I wouldn't back down. Not yet.

    I lunged forward, my enhanced speed shattering the sound barrier multiple times over. I knocked him back into the city as the air roared around me, a sonic boom that echoed across the ruined cityscape. The white-shirted student covered in his armor that unfolded, giving me a feeling of a primal metal boar, his golden blade a beacon in the twilight, met my charge head-on. Our swords clashed again, a thunderous clang that reverberated through the very foundations of the city.

    The force of the impact was staggering. Buildings crumbled around us, their concrete and steel frames reduced to rubble. The ground beneath our feet buckled, cracks spiderwebbing outwards as the shockwave of our clash rippled through the earth.

    I pushed forward, my muscles straining, my swords screaming against his unyielding blade. He was immovable, a wall of divine steel. But I wouldn't yield. Not yet.

    We were locked in a stalemate, our blades a nexus of power, the very air around us shimmering with barely contained energy. And then, he glowed. His silver armor flared with a blinding intensity, the red light intensifying, as if fueled by a furnace burning at the heart of a star.

    I knew, in that instant, that I was outmatched. But retreat wasn't even a thought in my mind.

    I wasn't even here anyway! This hive clone was just for fun and I could never pass up a challenge like this.

    I disengaged, launching myself backward with a burst of speed that shattered the pavement beneath my feet. The student, his form a blur of silver and red, followed close behind, his golden blade a comet trailing a tail of fire.

    The city of Los Angeles, once a sprawling metropolis of dreams and ambition, shattered around us. Buildings imploded, streets buckled, the very earth itself seemed to groan under the weight of our clash. We were gods- no, god one one meant to slay them, locked in a battle that defied mortal comprehension, our every movement reshaping the landscape, rewriting the rules of reality.

    I slammed into a mountainside, the rock crumbling around me as I carved a deep crater into the earth. I scrambled to my feet, my armor dented, my breath ragged. The student, his form shimmering as he materialized before me, raised his golden sword, his eyes burning with a cold, unwavering determination.

    The battle had just begun but I was having way too much fun to care!

    I grinned, the thrill of the fight coursing through me, even as I felt the sting of a dozen hairline fractures spiderwebbing across my bones. My armor, battered and dented, hummed with a newfound energy. It shifted, plates sliding and reforming, a symphony of grinding metal and shifting gears. A sleek, industrial aesthetic replaced the previous sleekness, a testament to the power I was about to unleash.

    Two wings, vast and radiant, erupted from my back, their feathers a tapestry of celestial fire, each one seemingly containing a miniature galaxy. I rose into the air, the ground beneath me cracking under the strain of my amplified divinity.

    "This is fun!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the shattered landscape. "Thanks, guys! I know I'm about to lose, but this was awesome!"

    My words, intended as a sincere expression of gratitude, were met with silence. The Campione, their forms frozen mid-stride, stared at me with a mixture of shock and… anger. I'd pissed them off. Really pissed them off.

    The old man, his eyes blazing with an icy fury, transformed. His body expanded, fur sprouted, his features contorting into a bestial snarl. He was a wolf now, a titanic beast the size of a small town, his fangs gleaming like daggers in the moonlight.

    The Nun-like woman, her cold demeanor replaced by a mask of cold rage, landed on the shoulder of a colossal golem that had risen from the earth beneath her feet. The golem, a mountain of metal and stone, towered over the landscape, its eyes glowing with a malevolent light.

    The white-shirted student, his shoulders shaking with barely contained power, raised his golden sword. The blade pulsed, its golden sheen replaced by an abyssal darkness, the air around it warping and distorting as if consumed by a black hole.

    I didn't even have time to react. The world dissolved into a chaotic blur of motion, a symphony of impossible speed and overwhelming power. And then… darkness.





    My eyes snapped open. I was back in the throne room of my empire, the familiar hum of divine energy a comforting presence. Asuna, her arms crossed with an expression a mix of petulant pout and irritation across her face.

    "That was fun," I said, my voice a bit raspy from the phantom feeling of getting a mountain shoved down my throat. "Being curbstomped by the definition of 'things beyond any god's control that defy all fate' was actually quite humbling."

    Yui, her form shimmering beside us, giggled. She handed us each a pair of T-shirts. Mine read "Best Stupid Father of the Year" in bold, stylized font. Asuna's, in a slightly smaller but equally artful script, declared, "I Am the Best Mom, But After Fighting Bad Decisions, All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt."

    Beneath those, we each received another shirt, this one a matching set. "I Got Curbstomped by Campione! But All I Got Was This Lousy Shirt."

    I chuckled, accepting the gifts with a wry grin. "Yeah," I said.

    I pulled the "Best Stupid Father of the Year" T-shirt over my head, a wry grin spreading across my face.

    "Lesson indeed learned."

    Yui, ever the mischievous one, clearly had a knack for finding the perfect souvenirs. I glanced at Asuna, who was staring at her own shirt with a mix of amusement and a deep, simmering frustration.

    "Okay, I know that face," I said, my grin fading as concern replaced amusement. "What happened?"

    "I didn't even get to fight," she grumbled, her voice laced with a petulant annoyance. "The second I got separated from you, the Chinese lady's hands turned to diamond, there was a glow from around me, and then… absolutely nothing. I don't even know how my hive clone died!"

    She threw her arms up in exasperation, her pout deepening. "It's like I blinked, and then I was back here. No pain, no memories, just… nothing."

    I frowned, a shiver of unease running down my spine. That was… unsettling. To be snuffed out of existence without even a flicker of awareness, without a trace… it was a level of power that even I, with my divine domains, found unnerving.

    "That's… weird," I said, my voice a low murmur. "And kinda creepy. You sure you didn't just get bored and decide to come back early?"

    Asuna shot me a glare that could have melted steel. "I told you, Kirito, I wanted a fight," she growled. "And I didn't get one. Not even a little bit."

    I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," I said, my grin returning. "No need to get all stabby on me. I believe you. It's just… That's some serious power, even for a godslayer,"

    "Campione." Yui said.

    I paused, a thoughtful frown creasing my brow. "Yes, the specific term is important. Maybe we underestimated them," I said, my voice taking on a more serious tone. "Or maybe… there's something else going on here. Something we don't understand."

    With a wave of my hand, the world below us snapped back into place. The shattered cityscape, the pulverized mountains, the very air itself, all reverted to their previous state, as if the battle had never happened.

    The Campione, their memories wiped clean, blinked in confusion, their expressions shifting from battle-ready intensity to bewildered curiosity.

    Pandora, her mind still reeling from the echoes of a threat that no one else remembered, stared up at us with wide, uncomprehending eyes from her seal. She was the only one who retained even a sliver of awareness of what had transpired, a lone witness to a battle that to everyone else had never truly been.

    I shrugged, turning to Asuna, who was still pouting about her anticlimactic demise. "It would be interesting to know how you lost," I said, my voice laced with a hint of amusement, "but I guess we'll never know."

    Asuna grumbled something about "cheap tricks" and "unfair advantages," but her annoyance was already fading, replaced by a spark of curiosity.

    Yui, her form shimmering beside us, beamed. She handed us a stack of pamphlets, each one depicting a different world, a different possibility. "I made them myself!" she chirped, her voice full of pride.





    Ahem. Well, well, well. Look who's back. And sober, surprisingly.

    As the only one here who is both omniscient and, well, back from drowning my sorrows in a cosmic cocktail of existential dread and questionable tequila, I can answer that question about Asuna's defeat quite well!

    It turns out that diamonds truly are forever, especially when wielded by Luo Hao, the Chinese Campione, and her Authority, "The Power."

    Salvatore Doni, the Italian Devil King, decided to spice things up a bit. He unleashed his Authority, "The Sword Hidden from God," a delayed attack that ricocheted off Luo Hao's diamond-hard defenses, striking Asuna from the front. And then, just for good measure, he followed up with "The Meteor Sword," his most powerful attack, aimed at Asuna's back just as Luo Hao was knocked out of the way.

    Poor Asuna. Caught between a diamond-powered sword-punch laser and a meteor-powered power-shaped sword of power lasers. Not exactly a fair fight.

    John Pluto Smith, or whoever the hell she really is, didn't even get a chance to join the fun. And the     other Japanese Campione? Well, he can go back to his burger and fries. His day off is officially back on.

    So, where are our intrepid heroes heading next? What world awaits them? And does "anything fun" truly mean     anything?

    Find out next time on: "I'm Goddamn Coping Here!"
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Huh. Neat.
    Also, this is why god-level beings usually and quickly choose fo use the light touch.
    It's more of a challenge.
     
    Chapter 36: In which a deific 'oops' occurs.
  • Threadmarks

    • Kirito's Perspective

    I stared down at the holographic projection, a swirling mass of blue and green that represented the world of Re:Zero. It was… weird. The planet itself was flat, a disc surrounded by an endless waterfall that cascaded into a void of nothingness. The laws of physics, as I understood them, simply didn't apply.

    "Fucking stupid waterfall flat-world physics are goddamn impossible," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

    Yanking this world into our cluster, even with my powers, would be a disaster. The delicate balance of its reality, its bizarre, nonsensical existence, would shatter. But I couldn't just leave it be. Not this time.

    I'd seen this world before. Not firsthand, of course, but through the pages of the light novels. Natsuki Subaru, the hapless protagonist, trapped in a cycle of death and despair, his every attempt to save those he cared about met with tragedy and heartbreak.

    And Rem… poor Rem. Her fate, a cruel twist of fate orchestrated by a gluttonous, insatiable archbishop, was a wound that never truly healed.

    I knew Subaru's story. I knew his pain. And I knew, with a certainty that transcended my usual cynicism, that he was a hero. A true hero, despite his flaws, his insecurities, his moments of crippling self-doubt.

    And I was going to help him. Not just because it was the right thing to do, but because it would spite that Momonga asshole. That incompetent, karmically-challenged excuse for a Supreme Being who had ripped off Subaru's story with his own brand of accidental villainy.

    "Yui," I said, turning to my daughter, my voice taking on a softer tone. "Do me a favor and fuel this bit of manipulation for me?"




    Healer's Perspective

    "Come on! Wake up! Rem, it's me!"

    The young man, his voice raw with desperation, shook the still form of the blue-haired maid. Her face, pale and lifeless, was etched with a serene beauty that was both captivating and heartbreaking.

    I watched the scene unfold, my heart heavy with pity. Even though I had no memory of this "Rem," even though her name meant nothing to me, I could feel the young man's pain, the raw, unfiltered grief that emanated from him like a physical force.

    Were they lovers? Best friends? The thought flitted through my mind, but it was quickly dismissed. It didn't matter to anyone here anymore. Not to anyone else in this shattered battlefield claimed by death, the forgotten, the erased, and moonlight. The world had forgotten her. But he hadn't.

    He turned towards me, his eyes wide with a desperate plea. "Heal her!" he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. "You have to heal her!"

    I shook my head sadly, my gaze falling upon the maid's still form. There was nothing I could do. Her wounds, invisible to the naked eye, were far beyond the reach of my healing magic. Her soul, her very essence, had been devoured, leaving behind an empty shell.

    He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. The world had conspired to erase her from existence, to rob him of his memories, his love, his grief. But he clung to those fading fragments, his heart a shattered mirror reflecting a love that no one else could see.

    I admired a will like that.

    But it was tragic.

    He slumped to the ground, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The despair in his eyes, the utter hopelessness, was a sight that made my own heart ache. I was a healer, a man sworn to alleviate suffering, but in the face of such profound loss, I felt powerless.

    He was another soul I couldn't save. Another tragedy I couldn't prevent.

    I turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his grief, his memories, his impossible love. As I saw and Ignored him reaching for a blade, I knew he was beyond my reach. Beyond anyone's reach.

    I kept walking.

    This was one of the many things I had seen and will see.

    After today, like every day, my tear ducts were dry from already crying.




    Subaru's Perspective

    I woke with a gasp, my heart pounding in my chest, my lungs burning as if I'd just run a marathon. The carriage lurched, its wheels bumping over the uneven road, the rhythmic swaying a jarring contrast to the chaotic storm raging within me.

    My new save point. The carriage. After the mansion. After…

    My eyes darted around frantically, searching for her. For Rem. For the one person who…

    "Emilia," I said, my voice a strangled whisper, "you need to tell me. Do you know where Rem is?"

    Emilia, her beautiful amethyst eyes filled with concern, frowned. "Subaru," she said, her voice soft and gentle, "who is Rem?"

    A wave of despair, so intense it threatened to drown me, crashed over me. I knew the answer. I'd lived it. But I needed to hear it. I needed…

    My hand instinctively reached into my pocket, grasping at something solid, something real. A book. I didn't think I had fallen to the point that I would get a damn gospel! I would throw it away-

    A book bound in ancient brown leather, its cover embossed with a title that sent a shiver down my spine.

    "The Sword God Emperor."





    A strange calm settled over me as I held the book, a feeling of certainty that defied the despair gnawing at my heart. This book, this Sword God Emperor, held an answer. A way forward. A chance…

    I opened the book, and the world snapped. Time froze, the carriage halting mid-motion, the very air around us solidifying into a silent tableau. Emilia, her concerned expression frozen on her face, stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes. Even the earth dragons, their powerful muscles tensed, their breath misting the air had stilled. We were caught in this timeless stasis.

    The world turned monochrome, a stark landscape of black and white, as words, not written on the page, but etched into the very fabric of reality, filled my vision.

    "All know that in order to start from zero in a blacksmith's forge, if you are to make an order for a sword to be used in battle, you must first take the step. The first step. If you turn this page, know that you are giving up everything and returning to your first day of life in our wonderful waterfall world. I know a few of you slip through the cracks and fall into this world from beyond the waterfall, here with no benefits or chance of survival. I will even give you a bonus of three years if so, your life will turn back time to arrive in this world before you did last time. I will train you. You will be the next Sword God. Every time you sleep, you will train to save those you truly lost."

    My breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding against my ribs. Give up everything? Return to the beginning? But… Rem…

    My fingers trembled as they hovered over the page. Could I do this? Could I sacrifice everything, for a chance to save her?

    I turned the page.

    The words vanished, but a new voice, a voice that boomed with an ancient power, filled the frozen air.

    "Before the Witches, before Volcanica, the dragons hadn't blessed a soul yet, but even then, the conflict stood. There was the Sword God Emperor, the Rapier God Empress, there was his daughter, the Analytical God Princess."

    The world shook, the carriage swaying precariously as the voice grew louder, its power resonating through my very being.

    "ALL FELL BEFORE THE PRIME GLUTTONY. ALL WILL FALL AGAIN BEFORE THE PRIME GLUTTONY. ALL WILL FORGET UNLESS YOU SAVE THE WORLD IN 100 YEARS FROM THE PRIME GLUTTONY. THE WITCHES ARE NO TRUE THREAT, BUT I WILL TRAIN YOU TO FIGHT THEM REGARDLESS. UNTIL EVIL WILL NOT STAND IN YOUR PRESENCE, YOU WILL START FROM ZERO AND STEP FORWARD TO ONE. THROUGH YOU, MY SUCCESSOR, THEY WILL FINALLY REMEMBER US!"

    A blinding flash of light. A disorienting sensation of movement, of time twisting and folding upon itself. And then…

    I stood upon a floor of shimmering glass, a vast expanse of darkness stretching out before me. I took a step forward, and the darkness fluttered away, revealing a scene that sent a shiver down my spine.

    A mural, etched into the glass beneath my feet, glowed with an eerie light. Three circles, each one containing a figure I recognized. Emilia, her hands clasped in prayer, her head bowed, her eyes closed, occupied the top circle. Below her, to the left, lay Rem, her form peaceful, as if asleep. And in the third circle, a grotesque, shadowy figure, a man with a twisted, hungry expression, reached towards them both.

    "Only you can reach towards strength," a voice echoed, soft and distant.

    "You alone can save the world from the Prime Gluttony," another voice whispered.

    I stared at the mural, my heart a lead weight in my chest. The weight of responsibility, the burden of a destiny I hadn't asked for, settled upon me. But beneath the fear, beneath the despair, a spark of determination flickered to life.

    I would start from zero. And I would step forward. For Emilia. For Rem. For the world. For the memory of those who had fallen.

    I would become the Sword God.





    I smiled, a sense of satisfaction settling over me as we transitioned to the next world on our list. Another conquest, another victory, another realm added to our ever-expanding empire. But the triumphant feeling was short-lived. The pocket dimension that housed our cluster of worlds, usually a seamless, instantaneous mode of transport, stuttered, the swirling void of colors and energy solidifying into a static, unsettling stillness.

    And then, Yui was upon me, her expression a terrifying blend of fury and exasperation. Asuna stood beside her, arms crossed, her glare burning into me with an intensity that could rival a supernova.

    "That last part was entirely unnecessary!" Yui shrieked, her voice echoing through the frozen dimension. "Do you have any idea how badly you just screwed everything for us?!"

    "Umm… what?" I asked, genuinely bewildered. My strategic mind, usually a well-oiled machine of calculations and contingencies, sputtered, unable to process the sudden shift in atmosphere.

    Yui's eyes narrowed, her voice taking on a chillingly calm tone that was far more terrifying than her initial outburst. "It seems that even with your Intelligence and Strategy domains, your Mathematics domain needs work. Do you know what I calculated? Hm? In 25 years, Subaru, the 'new Sword God,' will find a way to release 'the Sword God Emperor' – who, just to remind you, is based on you and formed from your mental attributes and personality – outside of the training space. After another 25 years, they will have gained that Eternal Youth Token, and Subaru, Emilia, and Rem – who somehow dragged her sister Ram into a polyamorous relationship with the four of them – whatever, just… four eternally young, powerful lower gods, and their multiversal training dad, while weaker than you, will grow. And when those four immortal lower gods find out that your divinity is all over the 'Prime Gluttony' that is hurtling towards the waterfall world and 'the Sword God Emperor,' and they start hunting for whatever asshole did whatever the shit they did and find you in 6 million years for a BATTLE OF UNENDING EXPLOSIONS MULTIVERSE BLAST STYLE NONSENSE, IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU TURNED A TRAINING ARC INTO A 'FIND THE ASSHOLE DEITY' D&D CAMPAIGN!"

    Yui paused for breath, her chest heaving, her eyes blazing with a fury that could have melted a planet.

    I stood there, stunned, my mind scrambling to catch up. I ran the calculations, my enhanced intellect struggling to comprehend the sheer scale of the clusterfuck I'd created.

    Oh, fuck.

    The realization hit me like a runaway train. I had, in fact, made all the errors.

    "Take us back, Yui!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with panic. "Shit needs fixing!"

    "I can't!" Yui shrieked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "The very thought that I have enough processing power to just— go to a specific world in that cluster that we just left— are you my father or a moron?! The only reason I can target places is because there are multiples of them in the general multiversal area!"

    I stared at her, my heart sinking. This was not good. Not good at all.







    Right then. Well, bugger it all! Even my omniscience can't be expected to predict something like that. A multiversal deity hunt in six million years, all because Kirito decided to play god with a flat-world lore edit and a lovesick teenagers bad life on sad repeat.

    Who knew a few misplaced divinities and a dash of karmic meddling and a side of causing more problems by accident could cause such a cosmic kerfuffle?

    I did, but I didn't think Kirito would do something like that.

    It appears our dear REAL Sword god Emperor has stumbled into a right proper pickle, a predicament that not even     I, with my boundless wisdom and impeccable taste in interdimensional cocktails, could foresee.

    Ahem. To put it bluntly, and with a level of clarity that even those knuckle-dragging troglodytes in the peanut gallery can comprehend: Kirito fucked around, and he     will find out later. That is all.

    Now, since I'm not doing my 'next time will he' thing out of disappointment, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with Lady Luck at the celestial craps tables in Space Vegas. Tata!

    (The narrator vanishes in a puff of cosmic smoke, leaving behind a faint scent of gin and Kirito's genuine regret.)
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top