Giren Roun—now rendered here as Kurokawa Renjiro, Emperor of the Bahas Empire—had braced himself for the worst.
Yet the outcome he feared most—Ainz Ooal Gown flying into a rage—never came.
Instead, seated high upon his throne, the skeletal overlord slowly clapped his bony hands together, his hollow gaze fixed on Ren Kuroda with unmistakable interest.
"Even when faced with despair, you chose to resist. How intriguing… a human like you is quite rare."
Ainz's voice echoed through the grand hall, cold yet tinged with approval.
"Very well. In light of your courage—and the fact that your words held a measure of reason—I shall overlook your earlier transgression. Emperor Kurokawa, you and your party may remain standing."
Renjiro froze.
He genuinely could not understand this being.
By all logic, Ren's act—killing one of their guards right in front of them—should have been nothing short of blatant provocation. It was practically an invitation to retaliation.
And yet… instead of punishing them, Ainz had praised Ren.
Was this undead ruler truly impressed by Ren as an individual?
Or was this simply another layer of unfathomable calculation—an attempt to draw more value out of them?
Renjiro couldn't tell.
He couldn't read Ainz at all.
The man—no, the monster—before him not only possessed power and influence far beyond expectation, but his behavior was equally impossible to predict.
Still… they were alive.
And the Empire had managed to retain at least a shred of dignity.
That alone was a miracle.
Having now fully grasped the terrifying might of Nazarick, Renjiro shed much of his earlier arrogance. With measured humility, he offered a formal apology for the Empire's workers trespassing upon the Great Tomb—and even presented the severed head of a scapegoat noble as compensation.
Ainz accepted.
Then, before everyone present, he demonstrated a spell.
"Let me show you something."
With a casual motion, he cast Mid-Tier Undead Creation.
Under the stunned cries of the court's chief magic caster—now reimagined as Fushida Kagenori, a man utterly obsessed with arcane mastery—the noble's severed head became the catalyst for a new summoning.
Dark energy coalesced.
Bones twisted.
And in the next moment, a towering Death Knight rose once more.
"Ah," Ainz said lightly, "one of our guards was recently destroyed by our guest. This should serve as a suitable replacement."
As the newly created Death Knight marched toward the position of the one Ren had annihilated, the imperial entourage collectively paled.
At last… they understood.
This was how those monsters came to be.
If Ainz had merely been a powerful warrior or spellcaster, then no matter how strong he was individually, his threat would have had limits.
But this… this was something else entirely.
The ability to casually create high-tier undead—
That elevated his danger to an entirely different level.
Ordinary summoning magic required equivalent exchange. The stronger the creature, the greater the sacrifice.
But Ainz?
He had just used a single human head to create a being that could slaughter hundreds.
That meant…
As long as he had enough corpses—and sufficient mana—
He could produce an army.
And each Death Knight would require hundreds, even thousands of trained soldiers to bring down.
The math was horrifying.
An elite soldier took years to train.
Yet Ainz could replace his forces instantly.
The disparity in losses… was completely one-sided.
Before, they had still clung to a faint hope.
A belief that resistance might be possible.
Now?
That hope was crushed.
Especially when Ainz calmly declared his next intention.
"The surface world has proven… troublesome," he said. "Even those who live quietly are not free from interference. If that is the case… then perhaps it would be more efficient to remove all such obstacles entirely."
Renjiro felt his blood run cold.
This wasn't just a warning.
It was a declaration.
Nazarick intended to expand.
And Renjiro—more than anyone—understood the implication.
If such a force set its sights on the world…
Who could possibly stop it?
Worse still—
Ainz had subtly framed this entire decision as the Empire's doing.
It was their actions that had "inspired" Nazarick to move.
That meant…
The Bahas Empire could very well become the scapegoat of the entire world.
A lightning rod for hatred.
Cornered with no alternatives, Renjiro made his move.
"Then… in that case," he said carefully, "the Bahas Empire would be honored to assist you, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown."
The room fell silent.
"With your overwhelming military might and unparalleled personal strength, have you not considered founding a nation of your own? Should you choose to do so, the Bahas Empire will formally recognize your sovereignty—and enter into an alliance with you."
It was a desperate gamble.
But also the most rational move available.
Renjiro knew they could not win.
If Nazarick chose to strike them first, the Empire would fall overnight.
So instead—
He would submit.
Align himself.
And wait.
Perhaps, one day, an opportunity would arise to turn the tables.
To endure humiliation now… and become a hero later.
At that moment, a voice cut in—sharp and disdainful.
"Lord Ainz, I fail to understand," said Shalltear, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Even if you demanded the Empire become our vassal state, they would surely comply. Why bother forming an alliance with such inferior beings? They're weak—utterly insignificant. What right do they have to stand as our equals?"
Ainz remained silent.
But another voice answered in his stead.
Demiurge.
"Because," he said smoothly, adjusting his glasses, "a vassal state is something Nazarick will soon acquire regardless."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Ren Kuroda, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
"Lord Ainz and Lord Ren are playing a far grander game—one that will gradually consume this world."
"A nation we establish will require recognition. However, if the Empire were already a vassal to a non-human power, its endorsement would carry no weight among other human nations."
"Furthermore, it would be unwise to make enemies of all humanity at once. Do not forget—we still have the Theocracy as a major adversary."
"The Empire's role is simple: a stabilizer. A reassurance to the human nations that we are not their immediate enemy."
Shalltear tilted her head, digesting the explanation.
"I see… Then which country is about to become our vassal? The Kingdom? Why haven't I heard anything about this?"
Before Ainz could respond, Albedo spoke with a serene smile.
"The Holy Kingdom," she said softly. "At this very moment… that nation is likely drowning in chaos."