A/N: HAHA, Hello, Hello! Reaper here, a year and a half later! Surprised to have gotten a notification for an update to this story? I'm sure you were; you probably gave up waiting long ago, thinking this story was long dead... but it's not! Evincing necromantic skills as consummate as the sorcerer king himself, I'm bringing it back from the dead with a 19,000 DOUBLE CHAPTER update! ("Applaud my supreme power!")

I said I wouldn't abandon this story, and I'm not going to. I sincerely hope you've all been doing well during my hiatus and have retained some interest in this story :p

That being said, if you can spare the time, I would *HIGHLY* recommend re-reading at least chapter 38 for the sake of suspense and immersion, but honestly, I'd start at 35 if I were you for the best experience (sorry).

Cheers, and I hope you enjoy! It's been a while, so be sure to leave a review if you feel any inclination!

In The Flesh

Chapter 39 + 40:

"Death vs. the [End]"

Pace, pace, pace.

Back and forth, Solis—in a newly conceived avatar—walked upon a variegated trail of condensed stardust. His luminous form flickered anxiously at the forefront of a milky stripe of the galaxy, and the void around him trembled as he looked down, chewing his bottom lip; the cosmos parted, revealing an evacuated city being ravaged by a sea of golden flames. Other than their voracious, crackling dance, the world was deathly still, and there was—

Silence, except for the electric hum of the energy collected before Ainz's outstretched hand, pressing against the creature's chest. Sebas' flames broke the night on the horizon, undying as they clawed up the skyline. Their volatile light bathed the scarred castle grounds in a dusky glow.

"..."

Ainz glanced over his shoulder at Lupusregina tending to Sebas and Lakyus with desperate incantations a few meters away. Feeling the weight of his gaze, she looked up—and all he saw in her eyes, corroborated by her full-body tremble, was fear and worry.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated].

A green light sluiced over him as he returned his gaze forward—it only took a few seconds, however, for his free hand to re-clench into a trembling ball of fury at his side.

The monster—still thoroughly impaled and locked firmly in place by half a dozen spears of glimmering bone—regarded the orb of light between them with a contemplative hum while its eyes flared like contempt-fuelled flames.

"[~Suzuki Satoru…~]"

It broke the silence with a low, gleeful tone as its gaze flicked up to meet the Sorcerer King's.

"[~So good of you to finally join us~]"

"And you must be the Hollow I've heard so much about."

The shadow of a grin split the depths of the creature's nebulous visage.

"[~Only flattering things, I assume?~]"

Ainz's eyes narrowed.

"Not quite, I'm afraid."

With a low, bassy laugh, the Hollow leaned as far forward as its entrapment would allow, paying no mind to the fact that this only brought more of its body in contact with the overlord's [Fireball]—even as its flesh began to burn with a sharp hiss and a plume of sparkling smoke.

Fshhhhhhhhhh!

Ainz did not retreat an inch, physically or otherwise.

"[~No, I suppose not. That silly little star has always struggled with being honest about his feelings… but I suppose, then, you understand the situation?~]"

The overlord nodded. Less than a foot of space now separated their white-hot glares, and their auras clashed: silver fog and ethereal flame flickered against each other in agitated dissonance.

The Hollow's grin faded, yet despite its ongoing immolation, its eyes began to glow anew, smoldering with a resolve that the Supreme One brazenly reciprocated.

Neither of them uttered a word, for there was still much to be gained in silence, simply feeling the other out: taciturnly peering into each other's depths—measuring, comparing, calculating.

Judging.

"..."

There was no doubt in Suzuki's mind that this thing was the source of the awful energy he'd been sensing since Solis deposited him on the bank of the Tob River. And 'awful' was truly understating it—its mere presence was a weight on the Sorcerer King's chest, one that not even the stoicism of undeath could spare him from. If he had remained human, his heart would surely be pounding in response to such a great power—equal in magnitude to the one nestled within his ribcage but opposite in nature.

Cold.

Malicious.

Crushing.

A killing intent, but more: directed not only at him but at the world—threatening to swallow everything. A dramatic description to be certain, but that was exactly the impression Ainz was getting, and it was plenty of assurance that everything Solis had told him about the Hollow was the unexaggerated truth:

The [End].

This was what the Hollow embodied, served, and dealt, and it ought not be conflated with Death, Solis had made clear. Death was merely a transition, a new beginning; another stage of existence, another pathway of [Being].

But the [End]?

It was a return to [Nothing].

To the mind and the heart, this was synonymous with 'dying'—but the soul understood the difference. Many mortals—especially their paragons, those oft chosen to protect their little corners of [Creation]—did not fear death. They could face it, stare it down, and with great courage, even spit in its face. Because, you see, the fear of death is rooted within the brain and the heart—physical organs, chemical responses, which can be trained, tamed, resisted, and conquered with great resolve.

But what can one do against a fear that strikes not their biology, but their very soul? The incorporeal, ineffable essence that is the culmination of every [being]; the well from which the resolve to train, tame, and conquer oneself is sourced.

The answer…

Is absolutely nothing.

Faced with a fear that grips your very soul… things like bravery, resolve, determination, anger, love, hate, spite, confidence, and faith—all the usual motivators and defenses upon which one may rely to overcome fear—become irrelevant.

Against a terror that seizes and overwhelms every physical and non-physical ounce of your [being], there is no defense.

Everybody fears the [End]

There are no exceptions. It is a phobia woven into every deep fiber of [Creation], beyond life itself—it cannot be overcome, suppressed, repressed, or ignored, like the fear of Death. At best, it can be endured, and the number of mortals capable of doing so—of retaining their faculties in the vise of such fear—is exceedingly low.

To put it into perspective, for those of you who like numbers: at any given time, approximately 0.01% of all sentient beings across the multiverse have conquered the fear of Death.

1 in every 10,000.

A very low number, one might think: but the fear of Death is natural, after all, and sensible. It's the primary motivator for any species to survive and propagate. To avoid Death is the ultimate goal—to spite it, our prerogative, which we exercise through our offspring, the continuation of our DNA. With each generation, we effectively extend ourselves indefinitely through time.

'You may take me, Death, but you will never take all of me; I will live on!'

This petty yet primal instinct to cheat death is a crucial driving force for [Creation].

There is no such solace against the threat of the End, though. There is no ingrained delusion, no defense, and no way to trick yourself into thinking you can cheat it.

There is no cheating the End, and the number of mortals that can even tolerate the fear it inspires and hang onto themselves by a thread as they stand across from its incarnation…

"[Well, that's just too depressing a number to tell.]"

Solis concluded, just as the flame-wreathed grounds of Ro-Lente castle had come into Ainz's view—and in the distance below, Sebas screamed.

"[But for your sake as much as my own, and the sake of everyone you care about… I hope you're one of them. ]"

...

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

"..."

Right as he reached that conclusive thought, the Hollow withdrew, marking the end of their mutual assessment; its grin returned—wider than ever, a curve of condescending approval that nearly extended beyond the confines of its jagged face.

'You pass' is what it seemed to say, and Ainz was about to note that it was hardly in a position for such arrogance—

!

—But he felt it then: something building up amidst the frigid power emanating from the Hollow's core. Something feverish, a red-hot crescendo bubbling out of control alongside a staccato chuckle.

"[~Ah… it's just no use, Suzuki. No matter how hard I try…~]"

Its voice was a whisper: defeated, resigned, almost self-deprecating… and as the Hollow spoke, it leaned right back in, getting even closer than before and eliciting a splintering groan from the bones restraining it. The intricate network of gray veins sprawling across its body started to quiver like a web of wriggling worms, and all the while, Ainz could feel that bloodthirsty energy continue to climb. He considered launching his [fireball] right at that moment before its escalation could come to fruition; but some instinct, whether his own or the counsel of Solis' light, he could not tell—perhaps both—made him hesitate.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated]

The fingers of Ainz's spell-casting hand tensed in preparation alongside every other fiber of his being as the wounded mist thickened around them, as if to insulate him from the outside world.

"[~Believe me when I say, I truly intended to start our encounter off with a nice chat… and really take my time~]"

Now it spoke in a seething hiss that Ainz could imagine being squeezed through gritted teeth.

"[~ But you just HAD to have such a defiant look in your eyes, and tease me with the STING of this vile light..!~]"

With its violent and thrilled declaration, the ground began to quake while the air crackled and fizzed—and Ainz finally realized what was coming, perhaps too late.

"[~Why, I'm just ITCHING to extinguish them both!~]"

Extinguishing the [fireball] within his clutches, he jumped back while thrusting both hands first toward the ground, then the sky—

"[—Wall of skeletons!]"

Following the motion of his arms, a towering wall of glittering bones erupted from the earth; the last thing Ainz saw before the effulgent barrier obstructed his view was the Hollow throwing its head back with a roar of gleeful laughter towards the night sky as a deep, dark red light began to corrupt the stormy jewel embedded in its chest.

Without delay, Ainz whirled around and thrust a hand towards Lupusregina—and collected on the tip of his tongue was the only spell that could save her, because the wall surely would not hold.

It didn't work when he'd tried it earlier—but now it had to.

He would make it..!

"[Gate!]"

!

At the sound of space warping behind her, the Pleiade—trapped in a daze of awe and fear of the two unfathomable powers clashing before her—blinked for the first time in several minutes.

Wuuuuuong!

Reality acquiesced to the sorcerer king's authority, allowing a swirling portal of light to tear its way into existence. The battle maid had to shield her face against its radiance. It was a [Gate] unlike any she'd ever seen, and before she could even really process its blinding manifestation—

"[Widen Magic: Shockwave]!"

She didn't even have a chance to turn around at the sound of another urgent invocation before an invisible wave struck her in the back, hard, knocking the wind out of her and launching her forward toward the scorching vortex.

She twisted in midair, wincing in pain and confusion, and time slowed to a crawl as she looked past Sebas and Lakyus' airborne bodies right behind her; her eyes locked with Ainz's, in which she saw a triumphant yet apologetic glimmer.

A glyph dissolved in the air before his outstretched hand, trembling with strain, while the other traveled to the side of his head—

Ta-ting!

"[Keep them safe, Lupusregina. And remember…]"

!

His voice, inside her head—and something about his tone made her eyes start to sting.

Everything was happening so fast, and by the time she thought to reply, it was too late: she tried to twist even farther, to pitch herself off course and avoid the [Gate], but her trajectory was calculated and inalterable.

"[...The name Ainz Ooal Gown has never known defeat!]"

All she could do was watch in horror as the [wall of skeletons] exploded in a spectacular flash of crimson light, instantly buck-shotting thousands of sparkling undead body parts her way—and the scarlet wave of devastation responsible for the unliving barricade's annihilation surged forward, engulfing the sorcerer king from behind and swallowing him whole.

In the span of a broken heartbeat, the devouring blast was upon the wolf maid as well, shrinking her pupils and filling her blurry vision—

Thud!

Lupusregina blinked, evicting the wetness that had accumulated in her citrine gaze, and found that her hand—which had just been just haplessly reaching for the supreme one—was now grasping at the stars. She sat upright, and while one eye closed in a wince as she brought a hand to her throbbing back, the other began to glow with the activation of her innate [Night Vision] in response to her dark environment: a wide street, deserted yet the very picture of chaos, littered with all manner of personal effects.

Hats, shoes, blankets, books, quaint jewelry, and ostensible heirlooms; cutlery—wooden intermingled with scarcer silver—toys, dolls, and leaking coin pouches. A smashed urn, just a few feet in front of her, its sharp clay fragments embedded in the ashen dunes of a loved one tragically scattered across the cobblestone.

Mercantile goods—fresh fruit, vegetables, confectioneries; bundles of cloth, tools, and trinkets; all spilled from wooden crates and woven baskets that had toppled off overturned stalls.

All things, dropped or knocked from trembling clutches—and Lupusregina could smell the dread in the air that had compelled their abandonment. It was as if someone had plucked the fear right from her own heart and spread it throughout the city. And all this she processed in the span of a second, confirming without a doubt that she was still in Re-Estize; where exactly, however, she didn't get the chance to pinpoint before—

WUOOOONG!

She turned to the sound and the only light source in her vicinity: the [Gate] that had brought her here, as it pulsed to life.

Her heart fluttered hopefully as she pushed herself to her feet.

Ainz-sama..!

But her optimism was quickly quashed as the rift spat out two bodies that hit the ground on their sides and tumbled to an unceremonious stop at her feet.

She looked down at Lakyus and Sebas, both alive but still unconscious, and her heart sank to the anxious depths of her stomach.

Without hesitation, she stepped over them and leaped for the [Gate]—but still a moment too late, she succeeded only in stumbling through the dark space left by its collapse.

The maid clenched her fists shut and looked around frantically: after quickly locating the nearest tallest building, she scaled its side in three nimble leaps, desperate to orient herself—

!

As soon as she landed on the roof, she froze with a hitch of her breath at the sight that greeted her.

A wave of golden flames slowly eating its way through the evacuated city towards her, briefly stymied by the river that flowed through the town—and on the other side of the burning waters, perched atop a forested hill miles away, loomed the imposing shadow of Ro-Lente castle…

Half-consumed by a blooming mushroom cloud of red miasma, in whose intensifying sinister glow the world became dully bathed—cold against the Pleiade's face as she fell to her knees.

The ground shook then, as the force of the eerie explosion rumbled its way through the royal capital—but Lupusregina barely even noticed it or the ferocious gale of freezing wind that came whistling through the streets a moment later, shattering windows, stripping roofs, and blasting her face, desiccating her unblinking eyes and blowing her hair straight back.

The only thing she could register right now was the supreme one's final [message], in which she desperately sought solace as her gaze remained glued to the malignant storm brewing on the horizon.

'The name Ainz Ooal Gown has never known defeat:' words proven true time and time again that every denizen of Nazarick knew, took great pride in—and believed in, wholeheartedly.

Lupusregina, of course, believed them too; she really did. She knew he could never lose…

And yet, she could not stop her ears from drooping flatly against the top of her head as she seized fistfuls of her tear-stained dress in her lap.

Because caught in a blast like that, all alone, against a monster that not even the leader of the Pleiades and all his strength could take down, even Ainz-sama might..!

She dared not finish the thought—an inconceivable nightmare for every member of Nazarick, but doubly so for her.

She rose to her feet, wiping viciously at her face.

She'd just gotten him back after so long—she couldn't lose him again. She wouldn't.

Especially not to some big, stupid, fog-whatever..! The 'Hollow,' if she'd heard Ainz-sama correctly.

I'd rather die than let that happen..!

She turned, slid down the slope of shingles, landed nimbly in the street below, and was just about to take off in a sprint for the castle—

When a single word, spoken in barely a whisper, stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Do...n't...!"

The hoarse voice cracked into a violent cough that quickly ebbed into a sickly rattle.

Lupusregina turned around in surprise and saw Sebas, flat on his back, reaching for her with a trembling, ungloved hand he could barely lift off the ground.

"Ainz…sama… sent us this far away… not just to save us from the blast…" he trailed off with a raspy breath and a pained groan as the back of his head hit the cobblestone, for he no longer had the strength to keep it up.

"S-Sebas!" the battle maid cried before rushing over and kneeling at his side.

"But… to ensure…" he continued breathlessly: "That we wouldn't… get caught up… in the rest of his battle..!"

!

The last part was constrained and ended in a retching of blood that coated the lower half of his face and neck.

Internal bleeding?!

With deft and impatient fingers, she unbuttoned his suit and tore his undershirt open: buttons flew, and her eyes widened.

She didn't understand.

How? How could his condition have worsened since she cast [Middle Cure Wounds] and [Heal] on him? Sure, they weren't the highest-tier recovery spells out there, the damage he'd incurred was severe, and he'd experienced a bit of a rough landing coming out of the [Gate]—but he should've gotten better, at least to the point of being able to stand. Yet his torso remained a disfigured lump, bruised pink right from the neck to his waist, and his chest had all but collapsed completely. None of the broken ribs had mended.

Did that creature's attacks impart some kind of curse or status effect—like [grievous wounds]—that nullified any attempt at recovery?!

In that case, she had a couple of spells—[Cleanse] and [Purify]—that should do the trick..!

She swallowed as she moved her hands to his body, choking down a lump of guilt that joined and condensed the pit in her stomach. '[Keep them safe]'—that was the first part of Ainz's message. How could she have almost run off and left Sebas alone in such a state?!

But before any incantation could leave her lips, the butler stole one of her hands and pried it off his chest. His touch was abnormally cold, and for the first time since she joined his side, her attention shifted from his battered body to meet his entreating gaze.

"S-Sebas, you have to let m—"

"Do you…recall… what Sir Unglaus said earlier… to Miss Aindra and Climb..?"

He coughed again—more blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

"U-Unglaus..? The blue-haired guy who ran off with y-your woman?"

A single note of a wheezing laugh floated out of him.

"Yes…that's the one…"

He trailed off expectantly, eyes boring into hers; the Pleiade bit her lip.

"... 'If we could help, then we wouldn't have to.'"

He nodded slowly as a bloody smile cracked his face, and he squeezed her hand.

"You… understand… don't you? Ainz-sama's power… that strange light. Even while unconscious… I could feel its warmth…as deep as that fog's chill…"

Lupusregina hung her head low, and when Sebas squeezed her hand even tighter…

she squeezed back.

"...Yes."

At her pained, dithering expression, Sebas chuckled weakly.

"I know… how you feel. A little… at least. And truly…if your first instinct in a situation like this… was anything other… than to rush to the supreme one's aid… I would've been disappointed in you. For even… as I am now… I wish that I could be at his side…."

His grip on her hand gave out.

"...But you must… promise me. Promise me… that you won't… won't…."

!

His head lolled to the side as he trailed off with the last of his breath, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"S-Sebas..?"

His hand slipped from her clutches, thudding limply against the road. The only sign of movement was the languid blood dripping from his slightly parted lips onto the road.

No…

She practically threw herself on top of him, pressing the side of her head to his chest, and held her breath. Her bestial ear twitched with strain.

…

…

…Ba-bump…

!

Several excruciating seconds passed before at last, his heart offered its lethargic beat, making her own race with relief.

He was alive… but perhaps not for long.

She withdrew, quickly brushing away the strands of hair plastered to her sweat-slicked cheek before pressing her hands to his gut.

"[Cleanse!][Purify!][Cure poison!]"

The urgent chants ushered waves of soothing green and blue light over him.

Now, surely..!

"[M-Medium Cure Wounds!]"

Her hands were imbued with a salutary golden light, pulsing softly yet promisingly as it spread to envelop her leader's mangled body.

"..."

She swallowed gravely as the miraculous light gradually waned; she held her breath and watched, unblinkingly, waiting for his eyes to open and his chest to rise with a strong, steady breath.

…But they never did.

She removed her trembling hands in disbelief, revealing that the horrible discoloration of his torso had not ameliorated at all.

"W-why..?"

She saw it then: a faint wisp of silver mist, wafting through the air right before her face, a mocking answer to her question.

She traced it back to its origin—leaking from the corners of Sebas' mouth, curling off his blood-stained beard.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the same secretion drifting out of Lakyus, hanging in the air over her bruised neck.

…?

As if triggered by her scrutiny, the mist's flow suddenly intensified, fully parting the sword maiden's and the butler's lips as it billowed out of them: swirling, thickening, and coalescing…

!

In the time it took for a chill to travel down the battle maid's spine, a hand emerged from the tower of haze now looming over her, smoky and clawed—and beyond its gnarled digits, dripping with fog, were those burning, piercing eyes…

"[~Ah, there you are little pup…~]"

Under the weight of the Hollow's subjugating glare, she could not move—not until she felt the coldness of its approaching touch radiating against her cheek.

"[~Come now, there's no point in running. Your end draws near.~]"

She leaped to her feet, as did her heart to her throat, just out of the world-ender's snatching reach—she frantically reached over her shoulder, instantly white-knuckling the hilt of her staff: but before she could draw it into a desperate swing, she blinked—

And the specter was gone. She looked around wildly, breathless, untrusting its vanishment—but Sebas and Lakyus' mouths were shut, without even the faintest leakage. She closed her eyes, forcing a deep breath.

Was it just an illusion…?

The persisting echo of a jeering cackle said otherwise.

WUUUUONG!

She jumped in place at the sound of another [Gate's] formation, a thunderous boom, and whirled around.

"Ainz-sa—!"

The name caught in her throat, for there was nothing there. But she'd definitely heard it—and the sound of a gateway being created was inimitable. Even if unusually loud, there was no mistaking it...!

She sprinted to the end of the road, rounding the street corner, her feet outpaced only by her racing heart—

!

And the portal that had just spawned came into view. It was massive—large enough width-wise to fit a two-horse carriage with plenty of room to spare, and twice as tall.

It manifested between the confines of two pillars of glyph-inscribed stone, making it a [Transport Gate]; meant to facilitate recurring travel of large groups or cargo between two fixed locations, it could even be accessed by ilk who didn't know the [Gate] spell. Re-Estize had two recently installed, flanking the anterior sides of the city's southern egress.

One connected the kingdom's capital with the Sorcererous Kingdom's, E-Rantel. It was available to the general public for a rather modest price and saw frequent use by citizens and merchants alike. It was also the one through which all the inhabitants of Re-Estize's southern districts would have fled over the past half hour.

Now, as for the second [Gate]—the one that had just activated, whose usage was far more auspicious?

The Pleiade's mouth curled into a quivering grin.

It was a direct link to Nazarick.

…

.

.

.

The blast hit Ainz like a truck and sent him flying amongst a barrage of the skeletal wall's fragments, quickly shorn to dust around him. For a moment, all he could see was red; all he felt was pain, stabbing and freezing as if a crushing wave of arctic waters had swept through him.

"[Fly!]" the sorcerer king roared, though he could barely hear himself over the ferocious wail of a hellish gale that ripped the now-shredded cape right off his back.

Thrusting all of his limbs out, he took control of his airborne momentum and gently guided himself to the ground.

"..."

Vermillion fog, swirling chaotically, surrounded him. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to hone his newfound senses—but the Hollow's energy was too thickly diffused to pinpoint its origin.

The thought of using [teleport] crossed his mind—but he didn't trust its facilitation through the unstable mana he wielded. That [Gate] was a miracle, and one he dared not try and similarly replicate right now: from the moment it formed he'd felt the portal threatening to collapse, and it had taken an egregious amount of energy—enough to cast [Gate] regularly about four times—to sustain it for just the few short seconds it took to send everyone through.

!

There came the sound of shifting rubble, and he whirled around—but the mist was too dense to see more than a few feet in front of him. Looking down, he couldn't even see his feet.

"...I didn't take you for the lurking type," the overlord spat as he started to turn in place with his head on a swivel; and under his next breath, he quietly invoked [Complete Vision]—but even with the supplementation of [widen magic], it only extended the range of his vision by a few feet. Better, but not by much.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated].

A burst of untraceable laughter echoed out from every direction.

"[~Lurking? Not at all… I'm merely giving you a moment to catch your bearings.~]"

Ainz swept his gaze to the left and caught a glimpse of a shifting shadow—but then it was gone instantly, too fleeting to confirm.

[~Because now it's just you and me, little sorcerer… ~]"

The lord of Nazarick brought a hand to his chest as the light tucked behind his ribs started to flicker.

"[Sense Enemy]," he chanted, heeding its alarm, and the unintended quietness of his voice surprised him. But a split second after the words left his mouth—

!

He spun around as his sharpened instincts compelled and jerked his head to the side, narrowly dodging a rake of gnarled claws. Each splayed digit left a trail of red mist in its wake as they shot over his shoulder, passing mere inches away from his tilted neck and cheekbone.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated].

Ainz tried to leap away—but the power of flight had already left him. Once again, the volatility of Solis' power had betrayed him and bid the blessing farewell far sooner than it should have.

Landing only a few meters away, he raised a hand to counter.

"[Gravity M—!]"

!

But the spell was silenced by a hand around his neck as the Hollow closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, and the turbulent orb of gravity that had just begun to collect at the sorcerer king's fingertips fizzled out as he was wrenched forward.

Once again, less than a foot separated their faces as the Hollow towered over him, transformed, a mist-cloaked mountain of rubellite flesh atop which lurked its fiery glare, dwelling even more deeply than the overlord's within the sockets of a jet-black skull whose angular shape and sharp contours were now plainly visible as it floated inside a nebula of blood-red fog. Its lower jaw snapped down with a pop and settled crookedly—and despite a total lack of lips or muscles, its rows of fangs managed to evince a warped grin.

"[~And that means we can finally begin in earnest..!~]"

In one fluid motion, the sorcerer king was lifted by the throat and slammed down with tremendous force. The earth splintered beneath his back into a spiderweb of cracks, and before the world even stopped trembling from the impact, two conjoined fists, raised overhead, were slamming down toward him.

"[Negative Burst!]" the sorcerer-king bellowed.

A great wave of scorching light surged from his core, blasting the Hollow away and clearing the area of fog. Imbuing himself with [Fly] once again, Ainz instantly righted himself onto his feet and shot into the sky as the Hollow staggered back several steps, its entire front smoking.

"[Maximize magic: Gravity Maelstrom!]"

After rising nearly thirty feet in a second, the Sorcerer King opted for the spell which had previously been interrupted, and with a thrust of his hand, fired a fist-sized ball of vibrating light.

BOOM!

Right as it skidded to a stop from Negative Burst's knockback, the Hollow caught the incoming orb in its palm and, under the maelstrom's crushing weight, sunk several feet as the ground beneath it imploded.

Now that it's pinned..!

"[Black Hole!]"

A pitch-black distortion in space-time spawned slightly off-course above the Hollow's head, instantly depriving the region of color.

!

Ainz recoiled slightly as he felt himself drawn towards it—and still, even as he exerted the power of flight against its pull.

Its event horizon extends even this far?!

Ironically, the caster was more alarmed by the spell's strength than the target; the cosmic world-ender merely looked up at the anomaly with a widening smile as the ground surrounding it began to peel and flake away, stripped in chunks that promptly crumbled apart as they drifted towards the inescapable void.

"[~What interesting magics this world affords its mortals…~]"

It mused while snapping its raised hand shut, snuffing the maelstrom out as its feet left the ground. It wound its arm back as it accelerated upwards, and to Ainz's astonishment, as soon as it was in range, the Hollow unhesitatingly plunged its arm straight into the gravity well, right up to its elbow.

KRZZT!

Every airborne body and bit of debris simultaneously froze in place as black lightning began arcing out from the ersatz collapsed star.

"[~But, I do wonder—!~]"

It continued, slightly constrained while driving its arm even farther in, forcing not only a more violent electrical discharge, but a flood of red fog—its color somehow retained, stark within the surrounding monochrome—pouring impossibly out the bottom of the void like blood-infused froth from a voracious maw. The black hole pulsed and twitched as it expanded, steadily gorging upon the red bile being force-fed to its core: more, and more, expanding to devour the Hollow's entire limb until…!

The singularity suddenly collapsed, and the one-armed destroyer dropped back to the earth alongside a shower of rubble.

"[~ —About the ethics surrounding the use of a star's light to invoke the power of a black hole. Personally, I'd say it's a bit distasteful… even if it was just a poor imitation.~]"

The Sorcerer King hummed concedingly as he lifted a hand towards his grounded foe.

A glyph spawned before his palm—and the sky rumbled with anticipation for his call.

"Weren't you the one who decided we were done talking?"

In the same instant that a brilliant flash punctured the canopy of dark clouds above, the Hollow leaped to the side, dodging a white-hot fork of lightning as it stabbed into the earth with a crackling burst. It landed in a full sprint, circling the sorcerer king from below while laughing even louder than the incoming barrage of spells, the hissing splashes and roaring blasts of acid, ice, and fire that licked at its thundering heels.

"[~We *were* done talking—!~]"

The end-bringer cried, shielding its face with both hands against a blast of solar winds. With a deft twist, it then sidestepped another thunderbolt and leaped over a snare of jagged bones that sprouted from the ground—right into the path of an osseous spear.

SHLINK!

?!

In the same instant the Hollow landed, tanking a smothering beam of light—the ironic, solar-charged version of maximized [True Dark]—the entire left side of Ainz's body snapped back as the bone spear he had just launched was returned to him at an imperceptible speed, lancing his shoulder.

"~[—Idly, that is!~]"

At the sound of earth shattering under the weight of an explosive propulsion, Ainz looked down to see a titanic fist—the very same one that had been lost to the black hole, now returned and glistening with nascent freshness—uppercutting its way toward him with enough power to smash right through him from perineum to skull.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated]

Still off-balance, there was no time to dodge, and certainly no time to utter a spell, but—

[Activate!]

The detonation of a [Drifting Master Mine] engulfed the Hollow in a flash of golden fire and black smoke just before its fist could connect. The destroyer was blasted right back down from whence it had leaped, smashing into the earth with such force that bits of earthy debris were launched high enough to hit the bottom of Ainz's boots.

"..."

The Sorcerer King righted himself while clutching at the gaping hole in his leather armor—and had he lips, they would've surely pursed.

Less than six seconds. That's how long it had taken for the Hollow to re-grow an entire limb.

Good as new…

He could not help the defeated note of laughter that forced its way out under his breath in appreciation of his bleak reality.

It was difficult to imagine that just one hour ago, his biggest concern was whether it was time to return home or not…

And now here he was, with the power of a star at his disposal, fighting for the survival of the New World against a veritable god of destruction who was turning out to be just about the worst opponent imaginable: a physical fighter, faster than Shalltear, more agile than Sebas, and stronger than them both; boasting peerless regeneration and lightning-fast reflexes—literally. To top it all off, spellcasting proved both inefficient and unpredictable. Every spell required an extra half-second of concentration—a veritable eternity against an opponent such as this—in order to control his mana output, and even still, he could feel excess leakage with every cast. [Negative Burst] and [black hole] had been particularly wasteful—enough to make him worry already that he would come to regret their costs at a critical moment in the near future.

Were it not for the generous raw boost to all his stats that came with Solis' blessing, he'd have been overwhelmed instantly.

Indeed, no matter how he looked at it, at this rate…

He had no chance of winning.

"..."

And yet…

The name Ainz Ooal gown has never known defeat.

He'd already made that declaration, and promised it to her, alongside the pledge to Sebas that he would take it from here.

And everyone knew that once his full name was lent to an assurance…

Then, it was assured.

So he would not lose.

Within the settling cloud of dust below, the Hollow stood upright,shedding the rubble from its meteoric landing. Its entire front was steaming, and dripping like melted wax…

Inconsequential damage that would heal in a matter of seconds.

The harbinger of the [End] felt a frown tugging at the corners of its mouth. Was this really the best this mortal could muster? Had he already exhausted the brilliance of his borrowed [light]...? Its sting seemed to have already waned when compared to the little sorcerer's opening move…

If things continued at this rate, then this was to be yet another boring, one-sided slaughter—like always.

[~...~]

But no, it was too early to be disappointed. There was more to this champion; there had to be.

~After all, nobody escapes the [End] purely by chance…~

And so the destroyer forced a grin as it tilted its head back, unable to see beyond the veil of earthy motes and its own fog.

"[~Satoru…~]"

It called out as it wound a fist back.

"[~I was promised you'd be different; and I hate to be disappointed. If Entropy has teased me yet again with some purposeless whim, then I…~]"

Unsure of what exactly it would or could do in such a case—for Entropy was not a force it could realistically trifle with—the Hollow simply cut itself short with a lightning-fast punch, taking a page from the little butler's book and producing a blast of wind that swept its surroundings clear.

WHOOSH!

It did so expecting to reveal Solis' meek champion keeping refuge in the sky.

But—

"[Perfect Warrior]."

[~!?~]

The destroyer's inflamed gaze flared in surprise as a blast of scarlet mist erupted from its outstretched wrist, knocking it off balance—and a half-second later, its severed hand hit the ground a few feet away with a hefty thud, punctuating a viscous splat of chrome blood.

The Hollow's trembling eyes shifted from its lost appendage to the mortal crouched beneath its stumped arm, clad in a golden aura. In his hand was a longsword forged out of starlight—its molten edge, translucent and sparkling with solar embers, dripped gray.

And in that freeze-frame moment, as Ainz looked up and their eyes locked, he could tell that he had managed to catch a god off guard.

He stomped his front foot forward as he pivoted off his back, swinging his blade up in a vicious arc with all his strength.

The Hollow twisted out of the way at the last possible second, the grotesque veins on its chest quivering erratically as the sunlit blade passed them by a mere hairsbreadth.

… And as it caught a flash of its reflection in the aureate metal that whistled by its mist-bound skull, for the first time since it had been born into this world, the Hollow's eyes—those unflagging, sanguinary orbs of condescension…

Faltered with a blink.

Shlink!

Another eruption of mist showered them both with silver droplets.

Before the first swing was even completed, Ainz turned his blade overhead and fluidly brought it back down in an angled slash aimed at the jewel in the destroyer's chest. The transition from one strike to the next was so seamless and fast that they overlapped, but the Hollow still managed to react, and so Ainz claimed not the destroyer's heart, but its other arm from the elbow up.

And it was then, as it staggered back off balance—after losing both hands in the blink of an eye—that the Hollow's smile returned, allowing two tendrils of drooling mist to curl out over the champion of light crouched beneath its gushing stumps.

"[~So this is your answer?~]"

!

It was only by the grace of a level 125 warrior's reflexes—alongside [Sense Danger], which he'd cast immediately before sealing his magic with [Perfect Warrior]—that Ainz managed to dodge the incoming kick. As he twisted past the tree-trunk-sized limb he dragged his blade across the Hollow's side, rending another flood of chrome as he slipped by.

"[~A faster, stronger body to help you keep up?!~]"

As soon as he was directly behind the fog-clad giant, Ainz spun and stopped on a dime by tracing a half circle with his back foot to round out a low stance as he gave his blade a twirl, shedding the cosmic blood from its edge and reclaiming it in a two-handed grip.

~ Seven seconds.

I'll do as much damage as I can before it gets its arms back..!

The air cracked as Ainz thrust his blade, breaking the sound barrier on its way to skewer the Hollow's jeweled heart all the way through its back—

!

But just as his sword was centimeters from sinking into its mark, the Hollow jerked out of the way, so quickly it seemed almost to have teleported a foot to the left—and Ainz's burning blade pierced only empty space before the cosmic demon clamped its arm down, trapping the sword against its body.

6 seconds.

"[~ Mm!~]"

While it dodged with a grunt of approval, it pivoted, and Ainz had only the span of a blink to react to the mountainous knee slamming toward his gut.

He relinquished the hilt of his blade just in time to catch the varicose limb with both hands and spring off of it before it could crush his ribs.

5 Seconds.

As Ainz sailed through the air upside down, [Sense Danger] triggered. He twisted around and tilted his head just in time to dodge his own blade, flung from the Hollow's teeth with a flick of its head.

The sword whistled by, grazing and chipping his cheek—

!

And he didn't even have time to orient himself upright, much less land before the destroyer's bulging forearm filled his inverted vision.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

THWACK!

The sorcerer king winced as he caught the lariat with both forearms and felt his bones splinter.

In less than half a second, he traveled the entire length of the courtyard before crashing through one of the only wall segments left standing.

4 seconds.

Ainz burst from the rubble, golden aura throbbing. Instantly, he located his sword to his immediate left, slowly sinking with a steady hiss as it melted through the ground.

How lucky…!

He leaped and reached for it—

!

—Then promtply froze, upon realizing he had nothing to grab it with.

His hands, right up to the forearms, had been obliterated.

KRA-KOOM!

His head snapped as the Hollow landed heavily in front of him.

3 seconds.

"[~There… now we match.~]"

It joked, lifting its own smoking stumps as it stepped forward.

2 seconds.

Ainz reflexively took a step back, eliciting a laugh.

"[~Relax...]"

It whispered as it leaned down, extending a leaking wrist towards the sunlit blade…

1 second—

Right on cue, a new hand sprouted with perfect timing to complete its reach and grab the hilt.

"[~I've no intention of ending things so quickly. To do so would be a disservice to us both, and the rare opportunity we've been given… and besides…~]"

It trailed off—and they both merely watched its fingers burn for a quiet moment, as Ainz's mind went into overdrive regarding how he might retrieve his weapon.

He didn't want to undo [Perfect Warrior] so soon—but he couldn't create another sword without doing so, and he certainly couldn't fight this monster hand-to-hand.

"[~My gift must be absolute and irrefutable in its deliverance; to crush you at anything but your best would be pointless. ~]"

With this elaboration, it looked up, and Ainz followed its gaze to the stars above—or perhaps, rather, one in particular.

"[~You will meet your end knowing that it was inevitable—that you did everything you could, and it simply wasn't enough~]"

"..."

Ainz wondered, then, if that ideal was a legitimate 'rule' of their circumstance, or simply this monster's personal mantra.

Perhaps it was because he was looking up at the night sky, but he recalled more of Solis' words from their original exchange:

[What? You expected me to be more eloquent? Refined? Sophisticated? What can I say? I've been watching over the New World for a long time, and I don't have the omnipotence to have resisted the crudeness of its inhabitants from rubbing off on me.]

Was this creature before him actually the Hollow? It had claimed the title readily, sure—but only after he had presumed it. Based on their interactions thus far, it seemed just as emotionally capable as Solis, possessing an equally prominent personality, thus putting it in the same boat of 'almost nigh omnipotent' as the star sentinel…

In other words, this monster likely wasn't the Hollow, but rather one of its servants—an avatar of sorts, Solis' equal in station, but on the destructive side of entropy.

!

In the bottom of his vison, he saw the monster suddenly pluck his blade from the smoldering ground and give it a toss.

Ainz reflexively lifted an arm—and blinked upon realizing that he'd actually caught it.

"..."

His new hand glowed just like the bones conjured by his solar-powered spells—but the appendage quickly returned to its typical stark ivory. He wiggled his fingers testingly: good as new.

The Hollow watched the gears in his head turn with a bemused snicker.

"[~Surprised?~]"

"... Not entirely," the overlord replied truthfully.

It was as he'd suspected.

The Hollow—which he would continue to call it for now—had implied several times at this point that it could've ended this 'game' whenever it wanted: instantaneously, even, and was only prolonging things for the sake of entertainment. And while Ainz certainly believed that the Hollow *wanted* to savour their battle and deliver an end that could only be accepted as unavoidable… the fact was, it didn't have a choice.

The Hollow's energy and his own were two sides of the same coin—antithetical, yet similar. Balanced. The Hollow's fog erased, while Solis' light created. When either of them regenerated a wound or limb, they weren't exactly healing: it was instead via the power of consummate destruction and creation that they could both effectively negate whatever damage they incurred.

Simply put, this was a battle of attrition—there was no way around that, and the victor would be decided by the answer to just one question.

His light, or the Hollow's fog: which would run out first? Until one did, there was no way for either of them to kill the other.

"..."

His mind whirred, integrating this new information into a battle plan.

Their equally robust vitalities meant that fishing for finishing blows and taking big risks was not worth it at this stage—and that meant his decision to fight as a warrior was even more prudent than he'd intended, on top of it allowing him to fight without having to worry about the volatility of every incantation.

I'll wear it down as best I can like this while conserving as much mana as possible for now. Once I've cut through enough of its regeneration, and a decisive blow becomes possible… I'll wait for the opportune moment to switch back to spellcasting and deliver it.

Now that he'd tested and more or less confirmed the Hollow's regeneration factor was precisely linear, his plan should be actionable.

The Hollow's patient smile widened.

"[~Your understanding seems to have deepened.~]"

"...You could say a few more pieces have fallen into place for me."

"[~ Good… but let them be sufficient. May you find further adjustment and enlightenment only in the throes of our battle, for I've now given you enough courtesy, little one…~]"

Its smile faltered as it took a heavy step forward; its jeweled heart started to glow, and sinister tendrils of red fog began curling and drifting off its body.

"[~Let these next ten seconds be your final reprieve… until the end.~]"

A sober assurance, and a warning. No more quarter would be given—no more conversation.

Mistakes, like losing both arms, would not be met with impunity again.

9

Ainz held his sword forward, poised and equally ready to deal or receive an attack—and only then did he nod.

8

"Sounds good to me."

7

The Hollow's aura flared, radiating a rush of freezing wind.

6

Ainz Ooal Gown responded in kind, concentrating upon the power churning his chest. This brought a brightening of his luminous form—and perhaps it was only his imagination, but he could've sworn, through the corner of his eye, that he spied a light in the night sky swell in unison.

5

The Hollow's eyes started to quiver hungrily, and under their weight…

4

The sorcerer king steadied his grip.

3

2

1—

!

The Hollow suddenly appeared over him as if it had teleported, with its fist fully cocked back.

BOOM!

Ainz caught the punch with a wince, feeling as though a bullet train had crashed full-speed into the flat of his blade.

And from this single blow, his plan to 'play it safe' went up in smoke.

Ta-ting!~

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

Gritting his teeth, he guided the boulder-like fist to the side, and ducked, dodging a pivoted roundhouse that would've obliterated his skull.

Before the wind even finished rushing overhead, Ainz retaliated with a vicious rising slash—solar steel clashed with shrouded claws, casting sparks into the Hollow's facial miasma.

A quarter-second of stillness: the combatants locked eyes over the edge of the sorcerer king's blade.

At the curling of the Hollow's mouth, they then vanished in unison before the remaining shower of sparks even reached the ground—

KRA-KOOM!

—and the two found each other with matching blows barely an instant later on the complete opposite side of the courtyard.

Again.

And again.

And again.

With each exchange, a new crater scarred the earth.

The ground quaked, the air rippled, and the wind howled incessantly. Lightning-quick flurries of burning slashes and crackling thrusts brought eruptions of wounded mist that bled into the night, while sundering fists, kicks, and claws brought flashes of lost light.

Claws and fangs scraped against celestial steel in sharp echoes.

The sorcerer king roared as severed limbs hit the ground and deliquesced into fuming chrome puddles at his feet.

The Hollow exploded with laughter as it smashed, shattered, and scattered golden bones to the wind.

Light crackled and hummed while fog whispered and hissed.

Parry, block, deflect, initiate, retaliate—there were times when all these actions seemed to overlap, as Ainz's blade quickened to keep the fate of the world balanced upon its edge.

Faster and faster, stronger and stronger, hotter and colder, the two primordial cosmic forces continually pushed their vessels to greater heights, rising to each other's challenge.

—eight, nine, ten… Ainz counted as he rushed in close, pressing his current advantage over the Hollow, who for now only had one arm, and a maimed leg.

He bobbed under a vicious uppercut—the world-ender's only rebuttal in its current state—and delivered a blinding cross-slash that split the fog giant's side into a burning X from its hip to its shoulder.

Ainz's gazed fixed upon its gemstone heart—and for but a hundredth of a second he considered striking for it right then.

But he knew better.

Eleven..!

Ainz leaped back, dodging the freshly regenerated fist by a hair—

Shlik!

The Hollow's eyes quivered as its new limb survived less than half a second before being lost again.

Then it smiled.

Now…!

As soon as Ainz landed a few feet away, he surged back forward and delivered a slash that spilled the Hollow's fuming guts—and for his calculated timing, the overlord was seized by both arms and rewarded with a gnashing of fangs that plunged into his left shoulder, injecting an icy venom as they ripped away the associated limb.

Flung from the fog-beast's mouth like a doll and now down an arm himself—but knowing it would return faster than his opponent's—Ainz turned and bolted. With a growl of laughter, the Hollow gave chase.

They rocketed up Ro-Lente castle and atop its roofs, zig-zagging in mutual pursuit with shingle-shearing steps and thunderous exchanges whenever their paths crossed. Walls, windows, and gables crumbled and burst under sword, fist, or foot.

3…2…1…!

The eastern wing's tower collapsed spectacularly as the two streaks of white and red leaped from its peak and collided in mid-air, just as Ainz's arm returned.

!

The overlord's sword claimed the Hollow's launched fist—but not before it connected with the side of his face, caving his skull in. The nearly headless sorcerer king went flying across the devastated grounds like an expertly skipped stone.

He blindly emerged from the earth hundreds of meters away as quickly as he could, his face only half reformed—just in time to sidestep a hungry pounce, and with a calculated slash, he split open the Hollow's back,

An immediate and clawed retaliation promptly gouged out the other side of his face.

A mighty, light-infused punch smashed right through the Hollow's jaw and sent it flying.

A barrel-sized knee shattered over half of the overlord's ribs in an instant.

A leaping swing split the Hollow's skull and dispersed its wispy countenance over the ground.

A hand on the back of his head slammed the sorcerer king face-first through the ground.

Over and over, the battle-tranced warriors took turns savagely breaking each other in ways that would've swiftly incapacitated any other creature on the face of the New World in seconds.

Blow for blow, tit for tat—that was how the world-ender fought, completely unafraid of harm like a mad and immortal beast. Ainz had no choice but to adopt a similar fervor lest he be overwhelmed.

Dodge, strike, follow-up, jump, slice—

More eruptions.

Twist, leap, block, deflect, counter—

More broken bones.

Get off the ground, roll, stand up, parry—

More dismemberment—silver and gold blended upon the ground.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated]

16, and 17 seconds—that's how long it would take him or the Hollow to now regenerate a whole limb, respectively.

Dodge right.

The gap had admittedly closed unfavorably, but he was still ahead—and he'd only just found his rhythm.

Parry.

One important thing he hadn't been able to determine yet though—

Dodge left…!

—Was exactly how much more he'd have to whittle away at the Hollow's vitality. Reducing its potency from 5 seconds to regenerate an arm to 17 seemed like significant progress.

Counter…!

But maybe it wasn't.

Was he close to being able to deliver a mortal blow? Or was he still hopelessly far away? Maybe he'd managed to exhaust most of its fog—or maybe he'd barely made a dent in its reserves. To make matters worse, he was just as unsure about the endurance of his own strength.

And yet…

Dodge right…!

Despite such pivotal uncertainties weighing on his mind alongside myriad other emotions, among them now…

Pivot…!

… Was excitement, and hope.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

Dodge left…!

Because for the first time since this savage battle of attrition began—

Deflect…!

—No, since he'd been re-deposited by the Tob River, even—the following thought entered Ainz's mind, stoking his ghostly white eyes as he foresaw an incoming attack which, only minutes ago, would've been too quick for him to even register:

I can win.

He bobbed under a blurred spinning kick and rose, riposting a vicious rake of claws with an omni-directional twirl of his starry blade.

SHLINK~

The foot overhead, and one of the Hollow's hands: both body parts were claimed with overlapping strikes while a third crackling swish, delivered simultaneously, smashed through the giant's chin—snapping its now-jawless head back with an eruption of stygian bone, and extinguishing its either side of them, its hand and foot hit the ground in unison.

The Hollow staggered back, gushing from both stumps—and Ainz's aerated gaze fixed upon his long-intended target. The only place on the Hollow's body that, in all this time, he'd never managed to strike despite many attempts. Rather, it would be more accurate to say it was the only place the Hollow made sure to actually protect at all cost.

But now, finally…!

This was the greatest opening he'd managed since debuting [Perfect Warrior]. He hadn't been able to make the most of it then—but he would now. He was faster and stronger than ever: but most of all, finally, he was in control.

I can win.

Ainz swung his blade back high overhead as his core blazed, assuming a single-strike stance that was 100% dedicated to offense. If the Hollow were able to launch an attack right now, he would have no hope of blocking or evading—it would land unmitigated.

But that wasn't a possibility given its state and position. Of that, Ainz was certain—and all the more reason why he had to pour as much of his strength into this next strike as he could.

He decided that within the span of 0.01 seconds; the time for conserving energy had passed.

With this next attack, even if it wasn't decisive on its own, it would at least deal critical damage and confer him an enormous advantage—one that he could perhaps extend indefinitely, until this thing lay dead at his feet, a deliquescing puddle of silver.

I can win!

The air rippled around his vibrating sword's edge as a flaring plume of light erupted from its tip, extending the weapon's length by several meters. A high-pitched hum filled the air.

I can win…!

Ainz stomped forward, quaking the world underfoot and knocking the Hollow even farther off balance, exposing its jeweled chest to the sky.

Gritting his teeth, Ainz swung for it with all his might.

I will win!

As his massive blade came crashing down, the Hollow lifted its head, flashing its re-lit gaze and a peculiar grin over its chest as it twisted in midair.

A futile effort—airborn as it was, it didn't even come close to getting out of the sword's path.

It was hopeless.

The smile didn't unnerve Ainz in the slightest as he watched his molten weapon reach the destroyer's chest. But before he saw it sink into the gem…

The world went black.

.

.

.

.

BA-BUMP

!

The sorcerer king's eyes snapped open: blink once, twice, disoriented. He was laying on the ground, staring up at a cracked stone ceiling. The shadow of an unlit candlestick chandelier hung sideways by a precarious thread, lilting languidly back and forth above his body.

The overlord slowly sat up, a pit rapidly forming in his stomach.

He was in Ro-Lente castle surrounded by rubble and swaths of red mist, obscuring sections of the floor. There were three spots in particular where the miasma was particularly dense, and within them he could see three bodies—well, all he could really make out were the tops of three blonde heads. Any greater detail eluded his blurry and strangely shifted vision…

He palpated his face to confirm his suspicion.

The left side of his skull was gone.

Did I black out…?

He looked down and found himself otherwise intact: no missing limbs, and his heart of light remained protected by unbroken ribs. Within his half-limp clutches, as well, was his sword—although its glow had dulled and now pulsed to a lethargic, cautioning beat…

Swelling, waning, swelling, waning—the only light source in his vicinity, he tightened his grip and drew it towards him. It scraped along the floor, scratching and blackening the stone beneath…

…!

The sorcerer king froze as his blade's pulse swelled for a moment, just barely enough to illuminate the toes of a large foot, dipping into the light.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated.]

He looked up slowly, freezing once his eye met two others, twinkling in the pitch black like sinister stars, burning with cold indifference.

Like a statue wrapped in undulating shadows, the Hollow loomed over him—for how long it had been there, lurking in his blindspot, Ainz had no idea.

He gripped his sword tightly, preparing to swing—

"[~30 seconds~]"

!

His hand stayed at the Hollow's voice, deep and peculiar.

The first words uttered in quite some time.

"[~If you had been able to land an attack like the one you just attempted after culling my fog such that it would require 30 seconds for me to regenerate an entire limb… ~]"

Ainz found himself further disturbed by its tone of voice, which he was now able to place.

It sounded… disappointed. Tired, even.

Finally, the Hollow nodded with a thoughtful hum and continued.

"[~Then that would most likely suffice to delay my re-manifestation for a full minute—long enough that I would lose my grip on this reality, and be expunged from it~]"

Ainz blinked at the reveal of such critical information.

A trick…?

He immediately rejected the thought. Though he was skeptical to presume a cosmic entity's full measure, he was confident the Hollow—or whatever representation stood before him now—wasn't the kind of being to employ a tactic like that.

In that case, the information was significant. The goalpost was officially established now, and as it turned out, he was over halfway there.

But, then…

If he were Suzuki right now, his throat would've lurched audibly, as he stared up into the Hollow's infinite glare.

Why reveal such critical information, now? Especially since…

"I thought we weren't going to talk… until the end," he murmurred.

More statue-still silence. The Hollow held his gaze irresistibly, peering—exactly as it had done when they first locked eyes upon meeting.

As if it was searching his depths, looking for something…

At last, it lifted its head upwards, glowering at the sorcerer king over its chin while it let out a noise akin to a sigh, expelling a small cloud of fog that instantly vanished into the surrounding blackness.

Ostensibly, unlike the first time around…

It must not have found what it was looking for.

"[~Indeed…~]"

It spoke in an eloquent tone, almost as quiet as its breath…

"[~We didn't.~]"

!

—Then suddenly swung one of its legs straight up into the air with peerless flexibility in an all-too-familiar technique.

Sebas…?!

Axe kicks were very powerful, but they were also committal, and not particularly fast. With his speed, it should've been easy to evade.

But when he tried—

BA-BUMP!

!

—his body didn't listen, rendered inoperable by an excruciating heartbeat that tore through him, momentarily darkening his vision.

"Wh…at…?" he gasped out, clutching at his skull.

BA-BUMP!

Again—a heartbeat. Suzuki's heart. And in the wake of its scream, Ainz felt a numbing chill…

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated].

His one eye widened upon the realization of his mistake.

No…

"[~You burned too brightly, too quickly.~]"

The Hollow condemned, voicing his fear—and down swung its leg.

Desperately, Ainz managed to lift his blade in time to catch its crashing heel mere inches from the top of his skull.

BA-BUMP!

"Urk…!"

Ainz had thought himself adjusted to the weight of the destroyer's blow, but suddenly, it felt as if a mountain were being impressed upon him.

[~And you made too many careless mistakes.~]"

It hissed angrily as it continued to exert calamitous pressure.

Crack~

!

He looked up in horror, his whole body trembling under the strain, and spied a jagged crack spreading across his blade beneath the Hollow's foot.

It seemed his body wasn't the only thing that had reached its limit.

"[~You took too long to employ the right tactics… lost sight of yourself… and wasted too much energy, too many times...~]"

Another moment of pressure, and the unrelenting heel crashed right through his guard, shattering the blade of sunlight in twain with a burst of light before driving down into the overlord's skull.

The sorcerer king pitched forward violently as fragments of his skull ricocheted off the floor around his knees; the ground came fast—but his face didn't reach it, as the Hollow kneeled, caught him by the collar, and wrenched him back upwards.

The broken blade, throbbing dully, slipped from his clutches—he tried to reach for it instantly, but in the Hollow's grip, his trembling fingers fell just an inch short of the hilt.

"[~And perhaps most egregious of all…~]"

The overlord winced as the Hollow's vise grip slipped from his collar to his throat, and its other hand flew to his chest. The sorcerer king's eyes trembled as its cold grip coiled around one of his ribs, and the orb of light behind its veil quivered in agitation.

Their faces were so close that the light of their eyes licked at each other.

The Hollow shook its head, continuing.

"[~...No, if in all this time, you still haven't realized it, there's no point in telling you. It's far too late. Perhaps I only have myself to blame for this, but I'm very disappointed in you, Suzuki Satoru. I really thought…~]"

Snap.

The Sorcerer king howled as the world-ender tore away one of his ribs. It tossed the curled tusk aside, and its hand immediately settled upon another.

The Hollow sighed again, sounding completely enervated.

"[~And even after I waited for you to wake up, to see if you'd have anything left. What a waste...~]"

Ainz's one eye widened as he clawed at the hand around his throat—but he could barely muster any power. Exactly as that unrestrained [Fireball] by the Tob Rivcer had reduced him, he felt cold now—empty and drowsy.

Damn… it…!

The Hollow was right: everything it had said was correct. He'd made too many mistakes. Leaked too much excess energy while casting spells like [Gate], [Black Hole], and [Negative Burst]. He'd taken too long to realize the benefits of fighting in [Perfect Warrior]; and he shouldn't have tried to go for that critical blow just now—he'd gotten carried away, lost himself in the prospective fervor, and channeled too much power at once. It was exactly the same mistake as the [Fireball], it was frankly unforgivable; it likely wasn't the case that he'd actually fully depleted his reserves—just that he'd drawn too much from them, too quickly, as the Hollow had said, and thus it had temporarily closed itself off to him again.

How could I have been so STUPID?!

If he could go back in time—if he'd just had more time to prepare…! He would've gone about things completely differently.

Maybe he could have won… but then again, still, maybe not. Hindsight is always 20/20.

After all, he had no idea what the 'most egregious of all' his mistakes was.

He racked his brain but couldn't think of anything in particular—nothing more costly than any of the other errors he just acknowledged.

Did it have something to do with how it was able to retaliate earlier…?

By his recollection, it should've been impossible—his certainty in that fact was the only reason he'd decided to bring his full power to bear in that moment. The only two limbs it could've used in that moment… no he'd taken them both—a quick recollection assured him of that with absolute certainty. He'd seen them hit the ground. So how then…?

And if not that… is there something else I've missed, worse still?

Ainz felt like he was missing something—well, he was undoubtedly missing a lot of things surrounding this entire situation—but something big, crucial, and intrinsic, based on the Hollow's tone.

Something he had not yet considered. Something he had overlooked, right under his nose…

Something he should've realized a while ago.

Snap!

Another rib, torn away. With the removal of just one more, the Hollow would be able to slip its claw inside and pluck out his heart of light.

"[~Be still, little one, and face the end with dignity. Reflect upon all your mistakes, lament your failure, the loss of this world—and the fact that there will be no *third* chance. But accept the fact that you did the best you could—it simply wasn't enough~]"

Ainz started to panic, his train of thought dissolving. How could he escape? How could he create an opening in order to recuperate? He was still in [Perfect Warrior]—he couldn't cast anything. So his only option was…!

He strained his reach at his side—his middle finger grazed the pommel of his blade, moving it slightly closer towards him, but nowhere near close enough that he could reclaim it.

His vision started darkening.

"[~As for myself… well, despite my general disappointment, I suppose I can still derive some joy from acquainting you with defeat, O' venerable "Ainz Ooal Gown." ~]"

It sneered, its gravelly tone regaining its sadistic condescension.

SNAP!

Went the third rib, dissolving against the stone floor into glittering dust.

Ainz looked down, his whole body trembling as the Hollow's hand dipped inside of his chest cavity. Images of Nazarick and all its denizens flashed through his mind.

Is this… really how it ends…? Right after I'd… decided… to go back home…?

He was angry. Furious, even—but there was no way to translate that fury into anything meaningful right now. Too angry and furious to even feel angry and furious, as quickly as defeat had come.

It was over; he'd broken his promise…

I… Fail—

FWOOOSH!

!

Ainz's faltering train of thought was cut short by the sounds of a pounding step and roaring flames—over the Hollow's shoulder a cobalt light flashed with extraordinary heat.

It was a sword, ignited within the hands of a young blonde-haired knight.

The Hollow's own gaze widened slightly as it turned, just as the sword came crashing down upon it amidst a scorching wash of cobalt flames.

.

.

.

"Wait!" Zanac ordered, lifting a hand as he came to a sudden stop in the middle of the stairwell.

As a result of the abrupt command, the guards in front of him nearly fell over as they stumbled down the last few steps leading to the first floor. After regaining their balance, they whirled around with trembling hands traveling to the hilts of their sheathed swords.

"Wh-what is it, Zanac-do—"

"Shh!" the new king cut him off, bringing a finger over his lips. He braced himself against the wall as he turned around, glancing between Renner and Climb.

"...Do you hear that...?"

Renner tilted her head to the side curiously.

"I don't hear anything, Nii-san," she confessed before turning to her knight.

"Climb-kun, what about you? Your senses are much sharper than mine," she reasoned with a radiant smile that wrinkled her brother's nose—but the boy blushed from the praise, and promptly closed his eyes in concentration.

A few tense seconds passed before his cobalt eyes flashed open again.

"N-no, I don't hear anything," Climb corroborated, his voice tinged with shame—but his charge's face lit up with realization.

"Nii-sama, do you think..?" she trailed off hopefully, to which the king nodded.

"Just so, dear sister. It's been quiet for several minutes now, and seeing as how we're not getting ripped apart at the hands of some strange fog creature right this very moment, I dare say it's unquestionable which of the two monsters prevailed."

At last, Climb's expression brightened with understanding.

"S-Sebas-dono!"

…

All five stood statue-still, dwelling on the promising silence—the guards' postures relaxed as their hands drifted from the hilts of their weapons.

"So… it's over, then?" one of them asked quietly, his voice lilting with growing relief—and the verbalization solidified it in almost all of their minds.

It was over.

"Aha… ahaha!" Zanac laughed as the knot of anxiety that had been twisting his innards for the past hour came undone with a snap, and he was struck by his exhaustion, compelling him to the floor. He slumped down, leaning back against the stairs—it was incredibly uncomfortable, but he didn't care.

"But of course Sebas won!" he exclaimed with a triumphant and weary smile that Climb and his guards reciprocated.

Sure, that strange creature was unnerving: but against a monster of the Sorcerous Kingdom, powerful enough even to assume rulership in the Sorcerer King's absence? In hindsight, it never had a chance—nothing born of this world would! It may have boasted some impressive durability, as they'd all witnessed, but all that served to accomplish was prolong its suffering as Sebas-dono's punching bag!

Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he considered himself a fool, and the more he was convinced… (thoroughly beguiled by the lull that the sorcerer king's arrival had caused)

It was over!

"Help me up, boy!" Zanac commanded. The young knight obliged, and no sooner was the king on his feet than he pushed past his guards and his sister—whose still-tense, unconvinced look he did not catch—onto the main floor.

Climb turned to Renner with an earnest look.

"I-I'm going to find lord Sebas as well!"

He offered a quick bow and turned to jog after Zanac.

"..."

Renner followed them trepidly for a couple of steps, and watched them all quietly for a moment: the royal guards, already completely relaxed, laughed and nudged one another as they lazily trailed behind her naive brother's pompous stride, allayed by desperate hope rather than logic.

"...And if the battle is won, nii-sama, then why has Sebas-dono made no attempt to apprise us of his victory?" she called after them from the base of the stairs with a frown.

Climb and the guards looked back at her, their smiles faltering slightly—but her voice did not slow the king's pace one bit, who simply offered a dismissive wave over his shoulder.

"I'm sure he's merely collecting his breath or convening with Miss Beta!" he assured just as he reached the arched doorway that led to the gardens—already on his mind was the frivolous thought of how his image would be tarnished if he remained cowering within the castle too long after the fighting had stopped while the city continued to burn.

The guards, convinced by his confidence, began to follow him again—but Climb remained still, uneased by the princess' words and her peculiar expression: it was a look that did not cross her face often…

one of anxious uncertainty.

A pit was beginning to form in his stomach, and so he started to ask:

"Renner-sama, what do y—"

!

But he sensed it then—right as Zanac reached the great wooden doors.

Just as the princess had pointed out, Climb's senses were indeed sharp—sharper than the king's or the guards', at least.

And sharp enough to finally pick up on the calamitous energy building up outside.

Before he knew it—without thought or hesitation—he was moving. As fast as he could, sprinting full-tilt down the hallway, racing against a countdown in his head, calculated by instinct:

3 seconds.

He barreled straight through the guards, splitting their pair and eliciting indignant and bewildered exclamations. He heard Renner call his name in alarm, but he did not stop. He couldn't afford to, not even for a fraction of a second—not with his humble agility.

Though his duty lay with the princess, Zanac was nevertheless his king—and her beloved brother. If it was within his power to save him, even at the cost of his own life, then he was obligated to do so.

2 seconds.

Time dilated for the boy, milliseconds stretching into seconds, as he watched Zanac begin to push the doors open—and was then forced to squint against the malevolent red light that filtered through the resultant crack.

He felt his mouth open, bellowing the oblivious king's name, but did not hear his own voice. All he could hear was the sound of his heart drumming in concert with the echo of his thundering footfalls.

1 second.

Zanac, blinded and stupefied by the obtrusive light, started to turn around at the sound of his name—just in time to catch, but not process, Climb diving towards him.

0.25 seconds.

It was only when the ground started to fill his vision that his squinting eyes widened in surprise at the boy who had tackled him.

BOOM!

Before they even hit the floor, the thick wood and iron doors exploded into a torrent of shrapnel over their heads, and a scarlet wave of light invaded the castle.

'Blinding' could not even begin to describe its brilliance. No matter how hard Climb clenched his eyes shut—even with his head down, and turned away from the intrusion—all he could see was red, getting brighter, and brighter, and brighter: piercing, burning…

And screaming.

Many light sources were accompanied by a sound: fire crackled and popped, while light derived from lightning magic hummed and buzzed.

But this hellish light? It consumed not only his sight but his hearing as well with a horrible, trilling, layered wail—as if it carried the lamentations of all the damned spirits ever to have been cast into purgatory.

Climb covered his ears, but to no avail—the light's voice was already inside his head, a ubiquitous symphony of dread that drowned all thoughts except those it inspired.

Howls of pain.

Poisoned whispers of suffering.

Of fear.

Of failure.

Of futility.

Of Death. His, Zanac's, Sebas'... Renner's.

And the vague, indecipherable suggestion—nay, assurance—of what lies beyond, awaiting them.

Awaiting everyone.

A beckoning oblivion, growing louder, and louder, and louder, instilling within him an existential panic that swelled with each passing second until the young knight couldn't take it any longer; he screamed, begging for everything to stop. But his protest was only assimilated, amplified, and cruelly twisted back upon him, echoing long after his vocal cords gave out and his lungs depleted.

Urging him to give up; to surrender; to die.

To [End].

His head felt like it was going to burst, filled as it was with the light's subjugating commands, imposed with frightening authority over his very being.

Haplessly, Climb sprang to his feet, sword in hand, as persistent tears forced their way through tightly shuttered lids. He began swinging his weapon aimlessly with pained, hysteric abandon, lashing out at the inclement void around him until he could swing no more, and his voice went hoarse.

He crumpled to his knees, defeated and broken—mind splintered, spirit crushed. His sword slipped pitifully from his slackened grip as he was suddenly struck by an overwhelming physical exhaustion that matched his mental.

And with the shutting down of his body came darkness—a welcome, soporific reprieve from the nightmarish redness against which he could mount no resistance.

The more the shadows deepened, the quieter the admonishing voices grew, and the duller the light… and so Climb submitted to it, eager for rest.

He started to sink.

Deeper… and deeper…

And…

…Deeper…

.

.

.

"—imb!"

..?

A voice, soft, distant, and strangely familiar, floated through the darkness, tickling his consciousness and interrupting his succumbence.

For the first time in what felt like hours, he opened his eyes a crack and found nothing: only a void of cool, inky blackness, through which he could vaguely feel himself falling. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he was floating downward, for his trajectory was slow and gentle: like an invisible rope around his waist was lightly pulling him…

In the darkness' soothing embrace, he had already forgotten the voice just heard, and he closed his eyes again, accepting his guided plunge…

.

.

.

"Climb-kun!"

!

But he heard it again—louder, clearer, and he recognized it now.

He opened his eyes more alertly this time, andsaw a small square of light high above him, whose radiance he could feel shining against his face even from so far away.

A figure stood within it—he blinked slowly, struggling to focus his impaired vision…

And when he finally did, he stopped sinking.

Renner…sama…

The golden princess was leaning out of the window, reaching through the darkness for him with both arms: distress defined her expression, but also hope—and the sight of her stirred something within him: resolve, and recollection.

A single word flashed through his mind—the first of his own conception to puncture his headspace in ages:

Protect.

That's right… I can't… sleep… now. Renner-sama is… waiting for me.

He reached for her—and promptly flinched at the sight of the hand that suddenly filled his vision, grasping for the princess.

A claw of withered, ivory digits.

Its palm turned towards him, and its spindly fingers wriggled one by one—movements he had intended to make with his hand.

Whose..?

Stunned, he traced it back to its origin, and still, it took his disbelieving brain a few seconds to register:

It was hishand.

Kicking frantically, he oriented himself within the stygian pool and looked down at himself in horror: from head to toe, he'd been stripped of all his armor and flesh..!

He brought a hand to his chest, praying that his eyes were merely playing tricks on him: but when his bony fingers slipped right through the cracks between his barren ribs, there was no refuting his skeletal reality.

Wh..at..? No… no, no, no no no..! It can't… I can't…!

He felt dizzy and sick, studying his decayed form, his mind blank with denial as he started to sink yet again—

"Climb, Please hurry!"

!

—But only for a moment.

With a single glance back up at Renner, his panic evaporated, and he lurched to a stop; He clenched his skinless hands shut with determination, and shook his head clear.

That's right. He didn't have time to lament his condition. Renner was in danger, trapped in this strange realm.

She needed him: that, and nothing else, mattered.

… If he was a skeleton now, then so be it. All that meant was going forward, he could devote himself even more tirelessly to protecting her. Whether in life, death, or undeath, he'd always be hers—so long as he could still be of use to her, and if she'd accept his service, he'd work his bones right down to the marrow as her retainer until the end of his days.

He paddled his arms and pumped his legs, propelling himself upwards for the first time through the oceanic darkness, toward her waiting arms…

But rising through the shadows immediately proved monumentally more challenging than sinking through them—it felt like he was swimming through molasses. She was so far away, too, and he was exhausted… apparently, though his form had changed, he was not afforded death's boon of indefatigability. But, at this rate, he would make it to her sooner rather than la—

Wa-psh!

!

Before he could find any sort of momentum, he was jerked to a sudden stop: he looked down in alarm and saw chain-like tendrils of red mist coiled around his flesh-bereft ankles, tethering him to what he now recognized as the bottomless, devouring black maw of Death.

And if there was one thing to be said about Death—aside from its indiscriminate inevitability, of course—it was that it hated to be cheated. It had gotten a taste of him—his flesh—but that wasn't enough to slake its hunger. It wanted every part of him, bones and all, until nothing remained of Climb but a memory and a name… and so it would not relinquish him so easily.

But it didn't matter.

He swam and he swam, straining against his constraints bit by bit, his exhaustion building with every inch he gained; more and more red tendrils shot from the depths, ensnaring his arms, wrists, waist, thighs, and neck—like the tentacles of some phantasmal octopus, intent on dragging its prey down for consumption. The force being exerted on every part of him was so great, so excruciating, it was a miracle he was still intact—that his arms had not snapped off, that his head had not popped from his neck, that his legs had not been torn away. Every part of him was creaking and groaning in duress, alluding that his violent disassembly was all but assured, and imminent. It was so, so painful…

But it did not matter.

He gritted his teeth and pushed on, with sunken and hollowed eyes glued to his goal— the only thing that did matter, now only a few meters away.

But he could feel himself slowing as Death's icy grip tightened.

Renner… sama..!

It couldn't end like this. There was still so much more he had to give her..! So much more he had to do in her name..! He hadn't even begun to repay the debt he owed her..!

He was only a couple meters below her now, and no matter how many fetters attached themselves to him, all they could do was slow him, not stop him. Nothing could—not when she was so close, almost within arm's reach..!

Through his narrow vision, squinted by strain, he could see her beaming at him—and that was it, he realized anew. His reason to live.

His reason to fight.

To protect that smile, no matter the cost…

And with that thought, something clicked inside of him. A strange sensation: burning, exhilarating, overflowing, and completely foreign to him… yet he recognized it instantly. It was, after all, a sensation he'd been fruitlessly pursuing all his life, and chasing religiously since the day he met Renner. A feeling he'd been told repeatedly would elude him forever, except perhaps in his dreams, by friends and foes alike, each his better.

And yet, now… for the first time in his tragically untalented life…

Climb felt powerful.

Like the eponymous hero at the climax of an ancient epic, he surged with herculean strength, swimming faster and faster despite the tautening of the countless chains that bound him. In a matter of seconds, Death lost its grip—its red fingers snapped away and dissolved, dispersing around him like blood in the water, acquiescing to his indomitable tenacity.

He burst from the abyss as if in flight, reaching a height greater than any dolphin's breaching leap could—and the second he broke the surface, he was born anew, re-bound in flesh. He was naked for a moment, arcing through the air, before his armor—the mithril panoply she had given him—was returned to him as well, alongside his blade.

!

Now that he was out of the murk, he could see past Renner as she stared up at him in awe—completely oblivious to the tower of scarlet fog creeping up behind her, a few meters away, with ghostly red claws poised to snatch her by the throat the second she was within reach.

Climb drew his blade from his hip as gravity started to pull him down—Renner retreated a step to make room for his entry, all but offering her neck to the monster as he shot through the window and stuck a crouched landing right where she had stood.

"Climb, you've come back to m—!" She began to exclaim, and moved to embrace him—but her eyes and mouth went wide with shock as Climb shot forward, pushing her to the side with one arm before reclaiming his blade in a two-handed grip and winding it back over his shoulder. Though it pained him to cast her aside so roughly, there was simply no time to spare—for even though the creature was far enough away to afford them a few indulgent seconds of reunion, Climb could feel his newfound strength waning rapidly. Whatever power it was that he'd managed to tap into, he'd clearly used up most of it to escape the void, and now it threatened to escape him entirely. He tried to focus on it—to cling to the sensation coursing through him, refusing to let it slip—but its elusion was plainly inexorable.

Climb grit his teeth.

One strike. That's all he'd be able to eke out.

They were finished if he couldn't slay the creature with this next blow.

As his gaze locked intrepidly with a pair of predatory dots of smoldering light—the eyes of Beyond Death, identical to those possessed by the monster lord Sebas was fighting—he focused on the last remnant of his fading strength, urging it desperately into his arms to guide his blade.

And he prayed—to himself, to the power within, to the Gods above, to the Devils below, whatever would listen, and answer his plea:

Please—let it be enough! If only this once, let my strength alone be enough! Let me be her hero, as I've always strived to be, and carve a way out of this nightmare..!

He wound his blade back a few more inches, as far as he could, and envisioned the blow that would secure his and Renner's future—a clean cut down through the monster's left shoulder, all the way through to its right hip, cutting it diagonally in half.

Let… me… save her..!

And with the crescendoing of his determination—as his entire body tingled and swelled in preparation for the grand finale of his borrowed strength—a phrase revealed itself within his mind: two words, which by some instinct Climb immediately knew held the power to actualize his vision.

Without hesitation, he evoked them with a resounding cry:

"[Ardent… Slash!]"

FWOOSH!

As he brought his sword crashing down with all the might he could muster and then some, it blazed to life with a roaring eruption of bright blue flames…

.

.

.

Shlok~!

!

Ainz's and the Hollow's eyes widened in response to the sudden flash of azure light as a flame-wreathed blade sunk into the destroyer's shoulder from behind. Climb's eyes opened a second later as the light died out, and he was stunned to find himself back in the realm of the living—back in the castle's corridor, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through its ruptured back…

Revealing his smoking sword, shallowly embedded in a chunk of rubellite flesh.

And for the second time that day, the Hollow blinked.

The wound it had suffered healed instantly, even before the young knight—a whelp so insignificant that his stirring had not even registered within the world-ender's senses—hit the ground at its heels, unconscious.

Indeed, its surprise at the boy who had managed to resist succumbing to the [End] by some unfathomable miracle lasted only a fraction of a second. Ultimately, the boy's awakened power yielded only an ever-so-slight turn of its head, and an even slighter slackening of its grip on the Sorcerer King's throat…

But it was enough for the overlord's straining reach to extend just one inch farther, and find the hilt of his broken blade.

With an exhausted roar, Ainz swung with all his might—a feral slash that simultaneously claimed both the hand at his throat and the one prying at his ribs.

And then, before the world-ender could even register it had once again been rendered handless—

SHLINK~!

[~!?~]

The Hollow's eyes flared like fanned flames as the sword plunged into its ruby heart—all the way in, right up to its crossguard.

A flash of scarlet light burst from the punctured core, knocking the champion of light and the End's herald apart.

Ainz hit the ground hard, tumbled backward, and landed on his stomach—and though his vision and golden aura faltered momentarily, he quickly forced himself to his feet.

The destroyer, basked in moonlight across the hall, had been driven to one knee by the mortal blow. It clutched handlessly at its chest while gurgling assuredly vicious profanities in an unknown tongue over the rivers of red fog flowing out the sides of its spasming maw and effusing at its feet.

Is it over..?

The hopeful question flickered tantalizingly through Ainz's mind—but he knew better than to wait and see.

Sure enough, no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than tendrils of wounded mist sprouted from the Hollow's gutted chest, coiled around the sun sword's hilt, and began pushing it out with an excruciatingly drawn-out squeeeeelch.

With a wave of his hands, the overlord shed [Perfect Warrior] and felt the flow of his unsealed magics.

He thrust both hands out towards his kneeling foe just as the sword was extracted, and after taking a half-second to push back his numbness:

"[Maximize Magic… Twin Dragon Chain Lightning!]"

Two entwined serpents of scorching electricity, thrice their normal size, surged from his trembling fingertips upon a rush of blazing wind.

[~No…~]

The Hollow seethed as the crackling maws opened wide to devour it whole with a fearsome roar that shook the castle.

Jaw clenched in fury, whole body trembling as its cracked heart struggled to mend, the destroyer pushed itself to its feet just as the leading serpent's fangs snapped shut upon it.

[~This can't be how this battle ends..!~]

The Hollow caught the roof of the dragon's mouth with its stumped wrists, and with a stomp, pinned the giant lower jaw underfoot. White-hot lightning arced at it from the encroaching rows of dagger-like fangs.

[~Done in… by the distraction of some pathetic… little… WORM, who wasn't even blessed with Light…?!~]

For a couple of seconds, the harbinger of the End held its ground, skidding backward on one foot that tore up the corridor's floor.

Its volatile glare shifted indignantly from said worm to the little sorcerer, from whose inclement hands the thunderous beasts were still emerging.

"[~Suzuki...!~]"

It seethed at the mortal who would dare capitalize on its single moment of carelessness; after it had been SO patient with him—allowing him to adjust to his power, and deal damage in the process.

All that courtesy… and he DARED to try and seize victory like this?!

"[~You—!~]"

Splat, as the junior dragon, coiling around its older brother, crashed into the Hollow's side and plunged its teeth in deep with a fierce injection of searing venom.

The destroyer's planted foot left the ground, and thus the larger twin bit down and rushed forward as well, juicing an even greater eruption of cosmic blood that drenched the walls, floor, and ceiling chrome.

As soon as the dragons cleared the castle, Ainz thrust his hands overhead, ushering them and their mouthful of prey skyward.

"[Fly]!" the sorcerer king cried immediately and gave chase.

He glanced appreciatively at the nameless boy, crumpled face-first into the singed, blood-soaked carpet as he passed him by before rocketing outside and straight up, following the dragons' dry-static wake.

After rising to twice the height of the crumbling castle's tallest tower, he stopped and raised both hands towards his glowing dragons—several hundred feet higher, and climbing still.

20%

That's about how much solar mana he had left.

In other words, this was it. If he didn't end things with this next assault, and let it recover again, he surely wouldn't be able to create another opening with the power he had left—certainly not through the coldness that was sure to overwhelm him.

"..."

Thirty seconds.

That's the regenerative benchmark the Hollow had explicitly told him to reach before going for a fatal blow—one that could then potentially delay its re-manifestation for sixty seconds, long enough for it to lose its anchorage to this world.

And though there was a chance it had been lying… the sorcerer king remained convinced that its words were an honest guide, and at this point, he truly had no other option than to act under that assumption.

So, the question was… had he reached it? The last time he'd managed to cut off one of the Hollow's limbs and count, it had taken seventeen seconds to regenerate.

Would that stab to its chest—unquestionably the most potent blow he'd landed so far—and these next few spells manage to attenuate its healing factor by over thirteen seconds' worth?

The fate of the world, MY world, depends on the answer to that question. Sebas, Lupusregina, the guardians—all of Nazarick, my family…!

Even a select few faces from the New World percolated his mind.

He would save them all, and make it back home.

His skyward gaze narrowed viciously—and a full second later, he snapped both hands shut.

High above, the twin serpents let out a thunderous cry—

Kra-KOOM!

—before exploding like fireworks in a brilliant white-blue flash, blanketing the sky with millions of twinkling, star-like sparks.

A spatter of silver rain pelted the overlord's upturned face—and a few seconds later came the precipitation's source, free-falling headfirst towards him.

It was—for now—a mutilated mass of charred, dripping flesh. The mist surrounding its stygian, jawless skull had thinned promisingly, suggesting a shortage.

But its eyes seemed even more incendiary and murderous than ever.

'You'd better hope I stay down, or I'll make your death one of the most painful I've ever inflicted,' is what they seemed to say, triggering the overlord's emotion suppressor, eliminating equal parts anxiety and anger.

No sooner was he emptied of the two emotions than the latter filled him right back up.

"Just… disappear!" he roared through gritted teeth as he swung his arm, eviscerating time and space with a three-fold reality slash—and cleanly cutting the Hollow in two at the waist.

From both tumbling halves spilled the yolk of its innards, drenching the overlord from head-to-toe as he turned and thrust both hands toward the ground.

Before them bloomed a shared glyph, radiant and pulsing, previously invoked—upon whose destructive power the overlord knew he could rely with his fickle power.

The glyph swelled and swelled, in both size and brilliance, as its comprising circles began to tremble unstably, threatening to come undone as they boiled the air around them.

All of it, everything I have...!

That same tugging sensation as before, as he felt the lump-sum of his remaining power lurch up from his core, through his arms, and into his fingertips—irrepressible, uncontrolled, setting his whole body abuzz.

Just like before… I'll hold nothing back… and end this…!

"[Fire…ball]!"

He bellowed, and out came an enormous orb of flame, shattering the glyphs that birthed it.

KA-BOOM!

The miniature sun crashed into the ground like a meteor and burst upon the Hollow's broken body, instantly engulfing the entire courtyard—and nearly the castle as well—in a blinding inferno.

The world quaked as calamitously as it had in response to the Hollow's earlier eruption of red fog, as thick plumes of oppressive steam billowed into the sky—and yet, directly above this sea of cosmic-divine flame, Ainz was cold, similar to how he'd grown by the Tob river.

Similar… the overlord thought as he lifted a hand to his flickering chest while staring intently at the epicenter of the ongoing explosion—a devastating attack that would've made Ulbert proud, certainly…

Ta-ting!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

… But not the same...!

The power of flight left him, and he began to fall.

Just before he was swallowed by his own purging light, the incineration waned with a declining buzz. Down, down, down, he plummeted; the steam-laden wind howled in his ears until he crashed into the scorched ground limply yet mightily, bouncing once and spilling onto his back…

In his mind, within the desolate silence of a breathless world—the countdown started.

With a grunt, Ainz flipped over and pried himself off the smoldering earth—and though rising onto his feet proved too daunting, he managed to remain upright and steady on one knee.

No…

The operability of his body worried him.

The [Fireball] he'd unleashed by the Tob River was much bigger than the one he'd just launched, and it had almost incapacitated him. The coldness that followed, the sheer emptiness he'd felt, the likes of which surely not even undeath could spare him from… the exhaustion he felt right now didn't hold a candle to that.

Was it enough?

Ten seconds.

His mind whirred. Had he simply overestimated his reserves?

He looked down at himself: his world-item heart flickered between its typical blood-red hue and the prismatic radiance it had been imbued with.

Twenty seconds.

No… he could still sense more within himself—but how?! He was certain he hadn't held anything back. The lack of restraint he'd felt upon casting, setting his entire body ablaze; the build-up at his fingertips, the surrendering of control—THAT was exactly the same!

So why? Why was the result, and the aftermath, different?! Why could he feel leftover power churning within at this very moment, keeping his warmth and his faculties?!

Why hadn't it been used?!

His gaze flicked to the field of stars above for an answer, but there was none to be found.

Thirty seconds.

...!

The overlord's train of thought paused as the first critical benchmark passed, and still, he could neither hear nor feel a stirring of any kind within the steam-laden devastation.

Forty seconds.

And he began to hope—despite the growing uncertainty and doubt—because what other choice did he have?

The 'game' was over—now he was just waiting to hear the results.

He clenched his hands shut against the earth, seizing fistfuls of ash.

Fifty seconds.

Fifty-one.

Please…

Fifty-two.

Just…

Fifty-three…

Stay…

Fifty-four…

Down..!

Fifty-five…

"[~...FiFtY…SiX.~]"

!

Ainz's eyes widened at the triumphant count—a whisper that arced right down the nape of his neck, pulling a wave of green light in its wake.

"[~sO… cLoSe…~]"

Ainz slowly looked over his shoulder and found a shadow, stiffly twisting and snapping its way upright like a freshly reanimated corpse.

A pair of eyes reignited, burning through the thinning mist.

"[~...YEt… sO fAr.~]"

The shadow shambled closer, coming fully into view—and its appearance did not belie the corpse-like impression its garbled, bestial speech and veiled movements had given.

It stood a withered ghoul—naught but a paper-thin layer of silver flesh dressed its frame, pulled taut over its exposed ribs, collarbone, and spindly limbs. The chipped stone in its chest had returned to its 'docile,' stormy hue—how it had appeared in the earlier stages of its battle with Sebas.

And above this emaciated body hung its skull, a naked lump of black bone, as bereft of mist as it was of flesh. Its lower jaw hung detached on one side, a crooked row of chipped fangs. Deep within its stygian sockets lurked its gaze: paltry, beady flames, incomparable to their ravenous blaze thus far…

Yet still lit, all the same.

It took another step forward, and despite its gaunt appearance, the ground shook as if it weighed a ton.

"[~WhAt… nOw..?~]"

It jeered, the very same question already roiling the overlord's mind. Its voice sounded a smidge clearer now—and in response, Ainz pushed himself to his feet.

"[Spear of Bone!]"

He cried with a stagger, and from his thrusting palm shot an osseous projectile. It pierced the fog ghoul's flesh, and pierced it deep—all the way through its gut, putting a stutter in its step…

!

…But that's all it accomplished.

Ainz's eyes widened at the spear's appearance—neither glittering nor gold, a milky cone, plain and mundane. Conjured by his own, regular mana, not Solis'.

Ainz's gaze shifted from his spell to his outstretched hand, and then down at himself.

No…

His world-item heart—blood-red, devoid of even the faintest flicker of light.

That confirmed it, then.

"[~NoThInG… leFt~]"

No…

He looked back up: the Hollow, its stygian expression defined by a razor-sharp grin.

With a mere tap of one of its gnarled claws, the bone spear crumbled to dust, and the hole it left instantly started to seal.

The world-ender took another hungry step forward.

"[~GaMe… oVeR…~]"

"NO!" the overlord screamed back, and with a swing of his arm conjured a scorching wave of red and orange flames, swallowing the Hollow whole—but from the smoke it emerged a second later, unscathed, with another lurching step. Its eyes burned even brighter now, aerated flames, as wisps of bubbling fog began to leak out of its neck, curling up around its chin.

Step.

Not like this…!

Another swipe of his hand, cleaving time and space—but before the Hollow's severed halves could even separate, its flesh annealed.

Step.

Not after coming so close, and so far…!

He fired a bolt of acid—the Hollow's flesh bubbled, drooped, and fizzed… but only for a moment.

Step.

Victory was within my grasp, just four seconds away…!

A gravity maelstrom—the turbulent orb broke upon the Hollow's body, caving in its ribs: but they mended a second later.

Step.

Are FOUR FUCKING seconds really going to cost me everything?!

A blast of hellfire conflagrated the Hollow's form in a magnificent onyx blaze—but the undying flames perished under a wash of scintillating fog.

Step.

After everything I've gone through—after I've just resolved to go back home?!

He tried once more a pair of electric dragons—but this time, the Hollow effortlessly caught their comparatively small crackling snouts, and with a squeeeeeeze, popped and dispersed their forms.

Step.

Lupusregina, the guardians, Nazarick—this entire world…! I'm going to lose it all to some otherworldy nobody in a rigged game I NEVER wanted to play, and couldn't prepare for?!

"[Reality Slash]!"

Step.

What a sick joke!

"[Black Hole]!"

Step.

FOUR SECONDS!

"[Thousand Bone Lance]!"

Step.

This thing is on Death's door!

"[True Dark]!"

Step.

Is there really nothing I can d—?!

!

It came to him then, just as the Hollow emerged from the crushing beam of shadows, its dripping claws nearly upon him.

One last chance, one final hope—admittedly slim, inspired by the accidental turn of phrase, and the spell just used.

A reminder of who he was.

"..."

Ainz Ooal Gown, a 'sorcerer of light'? A 'champion of Life'?

As if.

"[Negative Burst]!" he bellowed, a sorcerer of darkness…

And he served a different master.

The Hollow absorbed the violet shockwave with crossed arms, skidding back several meters. It lowered its impervious guard, eyes smoldering with baleful condescension as it reclaimed but a single stride before—

"Skill: [The Goal of All Life is Death!]"

Ainz thrust both hands out to his side as he shouted his scathing authority—not that which was borrowed, but his own, conjuring an ethereal clock upon his back.

Death's door, the precipice of mydomain… I'll force it open—

"[Cry of the Banshee]!"

—And push this bastard through…!

His harrowing condemnation ripped through the air—and the clock started ticking. And that, after everything else, finally stopped the Hollow dead in its tracks.

"[~ThE gOaL… oF aLL liFe… is death…?~]"

It repeated with a curious tilt of its head, and Ainz held its gaze as the seconds ticked by, each one denoted by a hallowed chime.

It wasn't until the fourth ring that the Hollow's eyes widened with what Ainz could only presume to be realization, and the overlord's whole body tensed in preparation for its assault.

He couldn't cast any other spells while TGOALID was active, and he barely had any strength left—but the same was true for his opponent. It would take at least three seconds for it to close the distance between them, and then…

"..."

Ainz could feel his—Suzuki's—heart pounding.

A few seconds, once again, would decide the fate of the world. If he could evade death for just that long, then this battle was over—in his favor, this time.

The Hollow lowered its head.

Here it comes…!

…

5 seconds.

6 seconds.

"...?"

The sorcerer king relaxed apprehensively as the silver ghoul raised its half-cloaked skull, but otherwise remained completely still.

Its mouth popped open jarringly…

7 seconds.

… And it started to laugh.

Its crooked jaw, coming unhinged on one side, bounced with each gentle note of amusement.

But in the waning echo of the next chime, the soft cackle quickly crescendoed into a violent eruption of glee, filling the night.

A pit formed in Ainz's stomach.

"[~The goal of all life… is death?~]"

It cried again, playing with the phrase once more at the penultimate second before breaking into more laughter.

Gong!

The world flashed blinding white and died.

And in this liminal, blank quietude, wherein all concepts except Life and Death ceased to matter—as the air turned stale, and the ground barren…

The overlord heard a whisper. Less than a whisper, in fact—but uttered in such a vacuum of nothing, delivered straight to his ears, it was deafening:

"[~How… quaint~]"

The overlord's eyes cracked open as he and the world melted back into existence—into death…

The sorcerer king gagged, reaching desperately at the clawed digits wrapped around his throat. He stretched his legs as far as he could, but couldn't find the ground.

"[~Did you REALLY think that was going to work, you myopic little WORM?!~]"

The Hollow bellowed venomously, turning its question rhetorical with a tightening of its grip.

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated].

"[~You dare presume to collect me?! The attempt would be laughable, were it not insufferable!~]"

It snarled, and the lifeless world around them began to tremble in resonance with its boiling indignance.

"[~You forget yourself, little sorcerer—little Death! The hands you invoke cannot reach me, much less your own!~]"

"[G…grea—ter… tele…portation…!]" Ainz gasped out, 'far away' being the only destination in mind.

?!

But in the Hollow's inescapable clutches he remained, trapped.

My mana… and hp… are being drained…?! Or rather…. erased?!

Ta-ting!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated].

"[~For I am the End, before which even the Reaper and Shepherd tremble and pale!~]"

Ainz howled in agony as the Hollow started prying his chest open…

Snap

One—

Snap

Rib—

Snap

—At a time. Each one's removal sharpened his pain—and his screams.

"[~I AM the goal that you purport! So rejoice! After years of pretending—you can finally reach it!~]"

!

It plunged a hand into his chest, seizing his exposed heart. For a moment, its frigid clutches dulled the pain—but then it started to puuuuuuuull, and all Death could do in End's vise was writhe and howl once more.

"[~Hark, little star: the succulent screams of your fallen champion!~]"

It roared while lifting Suzuki higher into the night.

"[~Watch, helplessly, as I pluck your hideous light from his bosom! And with its consumption, so too will I devour this world, your beloved creation!~]"

Similar to when Solis tore the light from his chest, the miniature sun resisted its extraction—but the conclusion of this tug-of-war was just as clear as before.

The Hollow exploded with laughter.

"[~It was fun while it lasted, little sorcerer, despite my disappointment! As I said, that you failed to reach my expectations was my own fault really. Truthfully, you still proved more entertaining than most, and normally, your resistance most likely would have been enough… well, to make it to stage two, at least.~]"

Ainz's vision started to darken—the light of his crimson eyes, searching the sky, dulled; and there came the chill he'd been expecting earlier, after casting [fireball]: that irresistible, drowsy iciness, seizing every fiber of his being.

"[~But alas, your unique circumstance bore the misfortune of my impromptu visitation, and this is where your story ends—a tragedy woven, as it must have been in retrospect, by one of Entropy's particularly cruel whims. Truly, if I had the capacity for sympathy, you would have it.~]"

"What—?!"

The sorcerer king started to choke out, not following at all—but he was instantly cut off by his own scream as the Hollow's grip tightened.

"[~But since I don't, all I can offer you instead… is rest. TRUE rest, unlike that false, intermediary promise your patron affords: eternal, and immutable… So be still!~]"

Ainz looked down, trembling from the pain, and in that instant upon seeing his only innard just seconds away from being dislodged, he recognized with every clandestine fiber of his being that it wasn't just a world-class item that was about to be torn from his body—nor even his 'heart,' or merely the vessel for Solis' light…

Ta-ting~!

[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]

No.

Ainz knew that what lay in the Hollow's vise now, more important than anything, was his soul. And with that realization… he felt it then, fully: the thing forewarned that had been gnawing upon his spine all night, from the moment he'd arrived—with every hairsbreadth dodge, every last-second block, every time the Hollow's eyes of cold fire loomed over him.

For the first time in Ainz's existence, and as far back as Suzuki himself could remember from his numb, droll existence on Earth.

He was…

Ta-ting~!

[Emotion suppressor has been activated]

"Faced with a fear that grips your very soul… things like bravery, resolve, determination, love, hate, spite, confidence, and faith—all the usual motivators and defenses upon which one may rely to overcome fear—become irrelevant.

Against a terror that seizes and overwhelms every physical and non-physical ounce of your [being], there is no defense.

Everybody fears the [End]...

…Even Death."

Ta-ting~!

[ERROR: Emotion Suppressor has failed to activate].

VMMMMM!

"...!"

[~?!~]

But just before his soul could be rent from his being, Ainz suddenly felt a surge of warmth flood his body and re-ignite his gaze. There came an iridescent hum, succeeded by an all-too-familiar squelch of maimed flesh and oozing silver.

Both pairs of white-hot eyes looked down in unison at Ainz's core, glowing with prismatic radiance once more—and the shield of ribs it had mended for protection, skewering the Hollow's intrusive hand through both its palm and back.

"[~You… still had this much power left…?!~]"

It murmured incredulously as it regarded its sizzling limb—but the sorcerer king's eyes were as wide as its own, uncomprehending.

And before either of them could say or do anything else…

"AIIIIIIINZ-SAMAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

!

Two blurs: one red and white, the other black and gold, slammed into the Hollow's side with the drop of a stygian axe and the simultaneous thrust of a cumbersome spear.

The overlord dropped wide-eyed through the resultant silver spray and landed on all fours; his non-existent lungs burned for a breath he could not take, and his absent heart raced while the Hollow's severed hands fell from his body and twitched upon the ground like arachnids offering their death throes.

He looked up through the dissipating mist, and his already wide gaze expanded even further as he found himself in the shadow cast by two juxtaposing pairs of wings—one snow-white, the other jet black—sprouting to their full spans from the backs of two armored figures.

Chrome dripped viscously from the tips of [3F] and [Spuit Lance].

"Al…bedo… Shalltear…!"

Having been launched a considerable distance, the Hollow made a sound akin to the click of a tongue. With an already-regenerated hand, it clutched at the gaping wound imparted by the bloody valkyrie's lance.

"[~Is it some cruel joke woven into the very fabric of this cursed reality that every time I'm to deliver someone's [end]—~]"

It snarled while its mirthless gaze flicked erratically between the two newcomers—and then it looked up, just as a small speck of black flame, drifting as innocuously as a snowflake, landed upon its shoulder…

FWOOSH!

Its gaze narrowed even more coldly at the pinstriped demon flying above as hellfire consumed the left side of its body and licked at the base of its skull.

"[~ —Yet another insect must see fit to come crawling out of the woodworks?~]"

SHLINK!

It looked down in astonishment to see itself completely run through from behind by a blade, the answer to its question, at whose edge any material—even the flesh of a cosmic demon, or a god—became as paper.

"[~...Literally.~]"

The Hollow finished with a hiss as it looked over its shoulder and caught a blast of wintery breath.

With a merciless grunt and not a second wasted, Cocytus brought [Decapitation Fang] down with the weight of a mountain. The icy halberd consigned the world-destroyer to one knee as it split its skull, right down to the nasal bone.

Mandibles clicking furiously, the fifth-floor guardian removed [God Slaying Emperor Blade] with a vicious yank, painting the front of his exoskeleton gray.