Chapter 123: Phase Two
Great Tomb of Nazarick.
The translucent [Crystal Screen] slowly faded before Ainz, its final image freezing on the broad, satisfied smile of Adventurers Guild master Pluton Ainzach before the light dissolved entirely.
The image was gone.
Ainz Ooal Gown leaned back against the throne, the dark red light in his eye sockets softer than usual.
Adamantite.
Team Darkness had finally reached Adamantite rank.
The process had, more than once, made him want to cover his face with both hands — as both spectator and creator. But the result was what mattered.
From now on, the "Momon" identity would have access to a far wider network of intelligence, able to reach the Kingdom's deepest secrets and those of the surrounding nations as well. He would also be able to accept commissions that only Adamantite-ranked adventurers were qualified to take on.
For searching out any traces his companions might have left behind, and for investigating the dragon that had taken control of Shalltear, the value of this was beyond calculation.
Ainz exhaled quietly inside himself.
That Pandora's Actor...
The image of him riding the Naga's back still refused to leave his mind, and that final German military salute had nearly sent Ainz's jawbone to the floor.
But measured against the results, these were minor footnotes.
Ainz thought he should probably commend Pandora when he returned. After all, when an employee delivered results for the company, even the soul-crushing company from his life before transmigration had at least offered verbal praise.
Ainz thought of himself as a better employer than that, so thinking of an appropriate reward for Pandora was important.
Just then.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Applause came from his side, arriving at a carefully chosen moment, like a sound effect cued for maximum impact.
Ainz turned his head.
Demiurge was standing to his right.
That cunning face wore an elegant smile, the usual suit perfectly in place, both hands pressed together in light, deliberate applause.
"Truly spectacular." Demiurge's admiration was entirely genuine. "As expected of Ainz-sama's design."
Ainz's jawbone dropped slightly, producing a faint click.
"Demiurge, what brings you here?"
The words had barely left him before Ainz realized that wasn't the right question.
"No — when did you arrive?"
When Ainz asked the second question, he was praying internally with everything he had.
Please don't have arrived too early.
Please don't have seen that.
Please. Please, not that.
Demiurge pushed his glasses up, utterly unhurried.
"I arrived just as Ainz-sama was silently cheering for adventurer Fifi's spectacular performance."
Ainz's jawbone dropped further.
On that pale skeletal face, the red light in his eye sockets gave a violent flicker.
Demiurge saw it.
The green light of forced calm flashed through him. That cold sensation rose from somewhere deep in his consciousness, pressing the surging shame back down by force.
Demiurge watched the shift in Ainz's expression, and the curve of his smile lifted another degree.
He gave a slight nod.
"Yes. That is precisely the expression Ainz-sama had at the time."
Ainz's thoughts nearly stalled entirely. The green light flashed again.
"No, that was just a — ahem."
Ainz cleared his throat — a reflex so thoroughly ingrained by now it had become instinct, something his body did automatically in awkward moments to buy his mind time to recover.
"In any case. Mind it next time."
"As you command, Ainz-sama." Demiurge inclined slightly, bearing perfectly respectful.
His expression held something beyond respect — a quiet satisfaction that settled alongside the deference.
Demiurge was quietly cataloguing today's observations in his mind.
He had witnessed Ainz-sama win the support of E-Rantel's citizens through means of such elegant simplicity. Those cheering citizens would all serve as reference points for future operations.
The genius of Ainz-sama lay in achieving his aims through the most direct possible means. Simply perfect.
He had also, today, gained some insight into Ainz-sama's aesthetic preferences.
Recalling Pandora's movements, Demiurge smiled to himself — the smile of someone who has understood something.
Ainz-sama's taste was, as expected, anything but ordinary. Entirely distinct from the vulgar aesthetic of common minds.
Demiurge resolved to study everything he had observed today with full diligence.
Ainz looked at that contemplative expression and had the distinct feeling that something was not quite right.
But he decided not to look into it.
Some things, if examined too closely, would only make him feel worse.
"Demiurge. What was it you actually came for?"
Ainz's voice recovered the steadiness befitting a Supreme Being. He offered a silent, private thanks to forced calm. Without it, he thought he probably would not have recovered yet.
"I came to check on Pandora's mission progress." Demiurge took half a step forward. "As things stand, it is going quite well. We can now begin laying the groundwork for Phase Two of Ainz-sama's plan."
Ainz was somewhat puzzled.
Nani?
The question surfaced quietly inside him.
Phase Two?
What did Demiurge mean by Phase Two? Using the Adamantite adventurer identity to gather intelligence?
No.
Demiurge would never think it was that straightforward. Ainz knew him far too well. Every time he thought he'd understood, Demiurge managed to find some angle that excavated an entirely deeper layer of "intent."
Ainz glanced around.
Aura wasn't here. Mare wasn't here. Cocytus wasn't here either.
Only Demiurge.
This was bad.
A silent cry of despair rose somewhere inside him.
There's no one I can use as an excuse to ask for an explanation.
In normal circumstances, he could say something like "perhaps you'd explain it for Aura and the others," or "Cocytus seems to have some questions," and Demiurge would automatically launch into an extended analysis. Those analyses sometimes left him thoroughly lost, but at least he could piece together from the fragments what the so-called "plan" actually was.
But right now, none of the other Guardians were here.
Ainz was, inwardly, sweating.
The restlessness welling up from somewhere deep in his soul kept pressing at him. But he held the inner panic steady.
What to do? Think carefully...
Demiurge would not, in any case, do anything that harmed the Great Tomb of Nazarick. Of that much, Ainz was certain. Each of these Guardians had been created by his own hands and those of his companions. Even if some of Demiurge's actions were genuinely beyond his understanding.
For instance, he still had absolutely no idea why Demiurge had dressed Crusch in a revealing sleeping robe and placed her in his bed...
But everything Demiurge did, he did for Nazarick.
Probably.
He added that quietly, to himself.
Ainz pushed the stray thought about Crusch aside. This was not the time.
Demiurge was still waiting for his response.
The immediate priority was to bluff his way through this.