"Albedo, when the three of us leave Nazarick, you will take over Momonga's duties and handle the paperwork."
Naohara looked down at the succubus kneeling before him, his expression perfectly calm. He was no longer the man who, back when they had first arrived here, could be thrown off by her fragrance.
It still tugged at his nerves even now, but he'd learned to live with it.
With time, the souls of the three of them were steadily adapting to their current bodies, their once-fragile spirits growing stronger by the day.
A powerful body would naturally draw the soul upward to match it.
The two were intertwined, each strengthening the other.
"Are the three of you planning to leave Nazarick… by yourselves?"
Albedo's head snapped up, worry plain on her face.
Many of the Floor Guardians and maids below reacted the same way. To them, nothing was more unsettling than the Supreme Ones leaving Nazarick.
And for Demiurge in particular, those words were the last thing he ever wanted to hear.
He understood that the Supreme Ones simply had matters to attend to, yet he couldn't stop the fear from rising anyway—that they might leave and never return.
Because that was exactly what his creator, Ulbert, had done.
He still remembered the scene clearly, the last time he had seen Ulbert.
"Demiurge, I may be gone for a while. I'll come back to see you later."
Ulbert had come to him, stared for a long moment with an expression too complicated to name, and then, after a quiet sigh, turned and left.
At first, Demiurge hadn't thought much of it. He assumed his creator simply had something to take care of.
He told himself Ulbert would finish whatever it was and return to Nazarick, return to him.
But as time went on, he began to realize something was wrong. Not only did Ulbert never send any word, even the other Supreme Ones started disappearing as well.
As though it had been planned, they left Nazarick one after another.
They left… and none of them came back.
That was when Demiurge understood the truth.
The Supreme Ones might never return.
They had been abandoned—cast aside by their master, their creator, their father.
Back then, Demiurge had wanted to leave Nazarick and search for Ulbert's trail. But at the time he was still only an NPC. He couldn't leave Nazarick at all.
All he could do was watch the Supreme Ones depart, powerless to stop it, living day after day in quiet panic.
If the Supreme Ones all abandoned them… what would they do?
What meaning did their existence even have?
Nazarick was Nazarick because the Supreme Ones were here. If the Supreme Ones were gone, could it still be Nazarick?
Nazarick existed because of the Supreme Ones.
The only thing Demiurge could do then was pray. He didn't even want to imagine what Nazarick would become without them.
Perhaps his prayers were answered. Perhaps it was mercy.
In the end, not every Supreme One chose to leave.
Momonga and Naohara did not disappear.
Even as the others vanished one after another, those two remained, standing guard over Nazarick.
Demiurge could see the loneliness and helplessness in their eyes each time another Supreme One left… and yet they still stayed.
And in that moment, an idea took root in his mind.
"No matter the cost, I have to keep those two in Nazarick."
That was why, ever since their arrival in the New World, he had never stopped planning.
Herohero's return was an unexpected joy. He felt no resentment over Herohero's departure or abandonment. Instead, he poured everything he had into finding a way to make him stay as well.
He had first proposed, in front of the other guardians, that the Supreme Ones should leave behind offspring—ostensibly to provide Nazarick with heirs.
But his true goal was to forge a deeper bond, something that would make the Supreme Ones less likely to leave.
Even though he could tell Naohara cared for Sephis, Demiurge still wasn't satisfied.
After all, they were creations of the Supreme Ones. They could be called "children," but there was no blood connection.
In his eyes, the only truly reliable safeguard was for the Supreme Ones to leave behind real offspring of their own.
And when Naohara told him about Sephis, Demiurge felt more than anger.
He even felt a small, shameful flicker of joy.
Because he could see how much weight Sephis carried in Naohara's heart, and that pleased him. The stronger that bond became, the less likely Naohara would ever choose to leave.
So now, the moment he heard the word "leave," his emotions couldn't help but stir.
"Supreme Ones, would you require a Guardian to accompany you on your outing?"
Demiurge forced himself to remain composed as he spoke in a low voice.
He could not openly ask the Supreme Ones to stay. As a Guardian, this was all he could do—and all he was allowed to do.
"We're only going out to explore the outside world. If anything happens, you may contact us through Demiurge, or reach out directly yourselves. The same applies to all Guardians. I permit it."
Naohara sensed the subtle shift in Demiurge's emotions. After exchanging a glance with Herohero and Momonga, he gave his answer calmly.
He didn't know exactly what Demiurge was thinking.
But he knew what needed to be said.
What the Guardians required was reassurance. Even if it was nothing more than words, that alone was enough.
"Yes."
Demiurge's body trembled slightly before he withdrew.
The other Guardians visibly relaxed as well. There was nothing more convincing than a promise spoken personally by the Supreme Ones.
"Albedo, do you understand?"
Once the hall had settled, Naohara looked down at her again.
"Yes. I understand."
Albedo had already regained her composure and responded respectfully.
Naohara gave a small nod, then turned toward Momonga. It was his turn now.
Originally, Herohero had also been supposed to give a speech, but he flatly refused, insisting that doing so would "literally kill him." In the end, Momonga and Naohara had no choice but to scrap his part of the script.
Seeing that Naohara had finished, Momonga quietly deactivated the recording item he had kept running the entire time. He had no intention of letting Naohara know he had been secretly filming him.
Ever since Naohara had shown him that unforgettable recording—of his first time using [Mask of the Dead]—Momonga had been looking for a chance to get even.
This footage wasn't exactly a scandal, but Momonga still carefully stored it away.
After all, seeing Naohara looking so dignified was a rare sight.
"You must be wondering why we've arranged things this way."
"After discussion among the three of us, we have decided—"
"To let the name of Nazarick echo across this world, to make Nazarick an eternal legend—"
"We will establish an eternal nation. A nation that belongs to Nazarick."
Momonga slowly rose from the throne.
The dragon-headed staff in his skeletal hand struck the ground with a clear, resonant sound. Emerald light flared from the staff, and faint dragon roars echoed from within it.
He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the air itself.
His majestic voice rang out, reaching every Guardian present.