After roughhousing for a while, Momonga pulled back his fists. A surge of green light flared over his body, and he instantly entered Sage Mode.
Herohero moved off to the side.
[Create Greater Item]
As a magic circle appeared, three chairs materialized at the center of the arena.
The middle and left chairs were pitch black, their surfaces formed from skull-like shapes, giving off a chilling, sinister air. The chair on the right was mainly purple, covered from top to bottom in upright barbed hooks that made it look especially ferocious.
Herohero nodded in satisfaction at his handiwork and sat down on the right chair.
"The Guardians should be arriving soon. You two should come over and sit as well."
Half-reclining on the chair, Herohero sent a Message to Naohara and Momonga.
"Pretty thoughtful of you, Blackie. The design's not bad. If you'd swapped the skulls for dragon heads, it'd be even better."
Naohara climbed to his feet and brushed the dust off his clothes. He eyed the two chairs in front of him, clicked his tongue, praised his friend for being considerate, then immediately said he wanted a different style.
As a Dragonoid, he naturally preferred anything related to dragons. The skulls were decent, but still a bit lacking.
"You're the one with too many demands. Make it yourself, or you'll just complain about my work later."
Herohero grumbled back to Naohara through Message, then casually waved his hand, shattering the left chair into nothingness.
"You bastard, even this you can't be bothered to do properly? Blackie, you've really fallen far."
Naohara harshly condemned the obvious laziness, then happily got to work himself.
[Create Greater Item]
A pitch-black chair slowly rose from the magic circle before Naohara, its armrests and back carved with vicious-looking dragon heads.
"Mm, not bad. This is more like it."
Naohara nodded with satisfaction and sat down.
On the other side, Momonga turned to praise Aura and Mare.
"Aura, you did very well. I relied on tricks in that fight. Your decision to abandon long-range attacks and switch to close combat exceeded my expectations. You're even more capable than I imagined."
Momonga spoke in the manner of a leader. For him, this kind of role became easier the more he did it, and his undead nature let him play the part without the slightest strain.
He addressed the two with authority. Aura nodded repeatedly in agreement, saying things like, "Yes, yes, you praise me too highly, my lord. I still need to work harder," while her eyes secretly drifted toward Naohara sitting nearby.
Hearing his sister speak, Mare turned into a parrot, repeating her words over and over.
'Unforgivable. He actually destroyed a seat that was created. Is this a provocation toward Father-sama? How dare he insult Father-sama like that!'
Aura trembled as she stared in Naohara's direction, her dissatisfaction with the Supreme Being Herohero steadily growing.
"Hm? Aura, are you listening?"
The sudden question snapped Aura back to her senses. It was Momonga, looking at her in confusion. He had called out to her several times without getting any response, which struck him as odd.
'Have the Guardians really not been paying attention at all? Looks like I still can't let my guard down.'
Momonga watched the distracted Aura and Mare, thinking this to himself as he spoke.
"Ah! I'm terribly sorry, Momonga-sama. I was reflecting on my shortcomings in the battle just now. Please forgive my rudeness."
After a brief moment of panic, Aura quickly regained her composure and replied calmly.
"I see. Reflecting on one's failures is a good thing, Aura. In that case, I forgive your rudeness."
After thinking it over, Momonga chose to let the matter go. At the same time, he wondered if he had been overthinking things. Perhaps he should place more trust in the NPCs.
"Hey, Momonga, get over here and sit down!"
A voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Herohero, lounging on his chair and waving at him. Naohara beside him was doing the same.
"Well then, that settles it. Keep working hard for the prosperity of Nazarick."
After giving his final words of instruction, Momonga turned and walked toward Herohero. The feeling was utterly exhausting. Why was it that those two could just lie around while he had to work himself to the bone?
"Maybe I should just slack off too. That actually sounds pretty nice."
Lying on the chair Herohero had created, Momonga couldn't help thinking that way.
He was already undead, so why did he still feel this tired? Forget it. Just slack off. Really, just slack off.
"Hey, Naohara, Herohero, let's talk about something."
"Hm? What is it? Don't tell me you're backing out?"
"Naohara, don't say nonsense. Momonga is the Guildmaster. How could he possibly go back on his word? We can't even entertain thoughts like that. That would be sullying Momonga's character. Right, Momonga?"
Herohero sternly rebuked Naohara, then turned toward Momonga, who had gone momentarily blank, and smiled as he spoke.
"Ah! Of course not. How could I go back on my word? I was just thinking about what the situation outside might be like. After all, we've crossed into another world."
Momonga let out a startled sound before replying a bit stiffly.
At the same time, he felt a surge of emotion in his heart. Damn it, is that really how they see me? What am I even supposed to say to that?
Forget it. No point overthinking it. If I have to do it, then I'll do it. I refuse to believe a handful of Guardians can corner me.
To hell with it. Bring it on.
Watching Momonga suddenly grow brimming with fighting spirit, as if he had imagined something entirely on his own, Naohara and Herohero exchanged a glance.
"Plan successful."
The two looked at each other with tacit understanding. In this sort of thing, they were professionals.
The moment they saw that expression on Momonga's face, Naohara and Herohero realized how serious the situation had been.
Momonga was thinking of slacking off.
They instantly understood each other's intentions and exchanged another look.
This self-directed little performance not only blocked Momonga's desire to give up, but also successfully reignited his fighting spirit.
Naohara was happy. Herohero was happy. Momonga was fired up.
Truly a win on all fronts.
"By the way, I wonder how Sebas is doing. What is the outside world really like now?"
Naohara casually picked up the topic, sounding a little bored. Even though he knew exactly what the outside world was like, he couldn't say anything and had to pretend he knew nothing.
"With transmigration, anything's possible. Maybe it's a world where the gods have descended and chaos reigns everywhere."
Herohero thought for a moment before replying.
Until he properly investigated the situation outside, he had no intention of leaving. Only staying within Nazarick made him feel at ease.
"Guessing won't get us anywhere. I just hope our strength is enough to survive in this world."
Momonga sighed. His expectations weren't high. As long as he could stay alive, that was enough. At worst, he could spend his entire life in the Great Tomb of Nazarick. After all, Nazarick was self-sufficient. Staying there for a few hundred years wouldn't be a problem at all.
"Father-sama, Herohero, Momonga-sama, the Guardians have arrived."
Aura suddenly spoke up, drawing all three of their gazes toward the entrance of the arena, where a figure was slowly making its way inside.