The grand hall of the Great Tomb of Nazarick shimmered with a splendor and extravagance befitting the finest guilds in Yggdrasil. The walls were adorned with paintings immortalizing epic raids, triumphs over world bosses, and even the dreams of the Ainz Ooal Gown members — from colossal dragons to utopian realms. In the center of the hall stood a massive table, behind which sat Momonga, the Overlord of Death, his skeletal visage concealing a storm of emotions. He slammed his fist onto the table with force — bam! — and, naturally, a '0' flashed above his head. Damage? What damage? It was his own table, after all!
"Is this how it all ends?" Momonga's voice trembled with suppressed disappointment. "Our adventures, the raids, defending Nazarick… is it all just going to vanish?"
He sighed heavily. YGGDRASIL wasn't just a game; it was his life. Here, he found friends, albeit a motley crew, sometimes hopelessly inept, but so dear to him. Together, they battled hordes of enemies, conquered World-Class Enemies, and built Nazarick brick by brick. But now… Herohero had just logged off after a long conversation, and the others hadn't even bothered to say goodbye. Momonga lowered his head, feeling the emptiness constricting his nonexistent heart.
BAM!
A loud, almost theatrical voice shook the hall, causing Momonga to flinch and whirl around.
"What's with the sour face, Momonga? Sitting here, moping like a skeleton in a graveyard!" came a playful, slightly mocking greeting.
Standing before him was she. Or was it he? No, now definitely she — Maylena, the embodiment of beauty and provocation. Her avatar was a masterpiece: a graceful figure in a black dress with an orange pattern, long hair adorned with black and orange rings, and eyes that sparkled with mischief. She didn't quite look human — more like a demonic muse, created with extravagant flair. Momonga still remembered asking once how much Mel had spent on that avatar. Upon hearing the sum, he almost breathed his last, although, being undead, it was difficult to do.
Mel — or now Maylena — was one of the first members of the guild, a friend who, like Momonga, lived for Yggdrasil. And he also turned out to be a hidden game master, which shocked everyone. Well, almost everyone — the guild simply shrugged: "Typical Mel." Especially when, using GM privileges, he changed his avatar to a female one to "play a joke." These "jokes" usually ended in mass facepalms and his infectious laughter.
Momonga covered his eyes with a bony hand, already anticipating a headache. Maylena wasn't just a prankster; she was a walking disaster, whose sense of humor could drive even the undead to a nervous tic.
"Maylena," he began, trying to sound calm, "how are you?"
"Peachy, old-timer!" she winked, theatrically tossing her hair. "It's a shame they're shutting down the game, though. I told them: extend it for another year, add 18+ content, uncensored — and boom, the online presence would skyrocket! Naked elves, demonesses in bikinis… Ah, dreams!"
For added effect, Maylena squeezed her breasts, making them bounce with such physics that Momonga froze, mouth agape. His emotion suppression worked automatically, and he covered his face with his hands again.
"Look at the animation!" Maylena giggled. "It's not for nothing that I went to the trouble of adding these… details. I even boosted the online presence in Yggdrasil for a while, by the way! And these old-fart developers — snobs, they can't see money and opportunities!"
"This…" Momonga coughed, trying to regain his composure, "violates a bunch of laws and ethical norms! 18+ content would lead to chaos, not to mention… well, all sorts of impropriety!"
Maylena waved her hand dismissively, as if he had said something boring.
"Pfft, you can always find a loophole. They just weren't bribed enough, that's all."
Momonga involuntarily twitched his mouth — or tried to, since his avatar was motionless. But his voice gave everything away: a mixture of irritation and involuntary admiration for her audacity.
"Okay, don't be sad!" Maylena suddenly perked up. "Want a parting gift?"
She began taking items out of her inventory. World Items. Ouroboros, Five Elements Overcoming, World Savior… Legendary artifacts that guilds tore each other apart for, spending millions of real money and hundreds of hours in dungeons, poured out of her hands like confetti. Momonga mentally coughed up blood, clutching his heart — or rather, the place where it might have been. His bony hand trembled.
"You… you're serious?!" he choked out.
"Oh, relax!" Maylena chuckled, adjusting a ring in her hair. "You're so serious, it's boring. Come on, let's take a walk, clear our heads before the shutdown! We spent so much time on Nazarick!"
Momonga twitched his mouth again. "Spent" was an understatement. Maylena, that damn rich girl, had invested most of the money in Nazarick, her wealth being simply incomprehensible to an office worker like Momonga. And the fact that she was also a shareholder in Yggdrasil? It didn't even register in his head.
Maylena, humming a cheerful tune, headed for the exit, her dress swaying in time with her steps. Momonga sighed, muttering something about a "walking disaster," and shuffled after her, still grumbling to himself. The last evening in Yggdrasil promised to be… unforgettable.
Momonga trudged behind Maylena, lost in thought about who Mel actually was. Once, he was just one of them — a guy who sprinkled barbs, shared their camaraderie, their victories, and even the dark times. Oh, those times… Momonga involuntarily smirked, remembering how their guild suffered from a collective chuunibyou syndrome. Theatrical speeches, pompous poses, nicknames like "Overlord of Darkness" — they were unbearable back then. Most outgrew it, but Momonga, glancing at Maylena's graceful back, shuddered. Her chuunibyou, it seemed, hadn't just remained; it had mutated into something terrifying. His avatar couldn't tremble, but everything inside shrank from a mixture of admiration and slight horror. Maylena was friendly, the soul of the guild, but her synergy with Peroroncino and Ulbert… Oh, that trio, dubbed the "Triad of Chaos," haunted Momonga's nightmares. Their antics — from raids on other guilds' lands to the disorders they caused in Yggdrasil — made them a legend. And not always in a good way.
The corridors of Nazarick shone with magnificence. Momonga's gaze glided over the statues of the 72 pillars of demons, created with maniacal detail, and their own effigies. He mentally clicked his tongue: Maylena insisted on completing this project, despite the astronomical costs. Even Lucci★Fer, known for his stinginess, rejected such an idea, but Maylena? She didn't care about the budget. Rich girl, damn it. Passing by, he noticed the maids in black uniforms with a spider emblem on their chests. Momonga grunted — a reference to some old anime. When the guild decided to find out what it was, they grabbed their heads, calling it ancient, but he just waved it off, calling them prudes and himself a "culture expert." Culture, yeah. Momonga chuckled inwardly, remembering the mess.
They reached the throne room. Maylena, with her characteristic pomp, flung open the doors with such theatricality that Momonga would have rolled his eyes if he had eyelids. She struck a pose, hands on hips, and proudly stepped inside. Momonga watched this performance with an inner smile. Before them rose the Throne of Kings, the symbol of their guild, surrounded by the radiance of the floating Scepter of Ainz Ooal Gown. Next to it stood a second throne — Maylena's personal whim. GM or not, she always loved to stand out. Momonga mentally twitched his lip: "Showoff."
Albedo, the creation of Tabula Smaragdina, stood near the throne. Her white dress with a deep neckline, demonic horns, and yellow eyes with predatory pupils radiated a captivating aura. Momonga involuntarily swallowed — Tabula clearly put his heart into her design. But then Maylena, wasting no time, walked up to Albedo and… began massaging her breasts! Momonga froze, his jaw metaphorically dropping. He slapped his forehead with a bony hand, suppressing the urge to scream. Only Mel, with his damn GM privileges, could so casually "play" with an NPC.
"Maylena!" he choked out, but she only giggled and, releasing Albedo, plopped down on her throne. Lazily reclining, she swung her legs, creating a picture that was both futuristic and absurd.
Momonga, sighing, took his own throne. As the guild master, he had the right to, although the throne was technically shared. Since Maylena had taken hers, why not? He settled in comfortably, leaning on a bony hand.
"It's a shame the game is ending," Maylena drawled lazily, twirling a lock of hair. "I just finished adding the 25th floor! Decorated it, threw in enemies that even World-Class Enemies would envy. And they're still shutting it down…"
Momonga twitched his mouth again. The 25th floor? Nazarick was already a hellish dungeon, and Maylena had turned it into a nightmare where even top guilds broke their teeth. He remembered how, at the peak of the online presence, Mel behaved like a normal player, not standing out. But when the online presence began to fall, his GM essence blossomed in all its glory. New floors, improvements, monsters — all this appeared with her light touch, and the rules of the game were just a recommendation for her. Momonga involuntarily smirked, looking at her relaxed pose. She was chaos in a beautiful wrapper, and yet… he was glad she was here.
Momonga settled back on the Throne of Kings, still trying to digest Maylena's antics, when she suddenly leaned closer, her eyes flashing mischievously.
"Listen, Momonga," she began with a sly smile, "are you still a virgin or something?"
Momonga choked. His avatar, of course, remained motionless, but inside, he felt his face flush with embarrassment. Maylena burst out laughing, leaning back on her throne.
"Come on, don't be shy!" she giggled. "With the title of Sorcerer King, any beauty is yours!"
Momonga mentally twitched his lip. Again, these old references! He himself had delved into ancient anime and manga, wondering how Mel managed to unearth such relics. Who even was he, damn it? But Maylena didn't let him sink into thought.
"Since you don't have a wife or a harem," she continued with a theatrical sigh, "let's at least arrange a personal life for you in the game!"
Momonga froze, sensing impending doom. Maylena snapped her fingers, and Albedo's dress instantly transformed into a dazzling white wedding gown, complete with a lace train and delicate veil. She tinkered with the interface, adding some settings, and then theatrically spread her arms, gesturing towards Albedo as if presenting a masterpiece.
"Ta-da! Your wife, as a gift!" Maylena proclaimed, for added theatricality tying a red ribbon around Albedo like a Christmas present.
Momonga's jaw metaphorically dropped. He touched his forehead with his bony fingers, wishing he could sink into the ground. This was absurd! He had just tampered with Tabula's creation, but… somewhere deep inside, a warmth stirred. Maylena, with all her craziness, cared about him—in her own way, of course. Momonga remembered how Mel always looked out for him, helped in raids, and encouraged him in difficult moments. He was more than just a friend, almost an older brother whose support meant more than all the treasures of Nazarick.
Maylena, still pointing at Albedo with a sly smirk, awaited his reaction. Momonga sighed. Time was running out; the game would soon end. Why not play along? For once, create some fun memories instead of sadness. He rose from his throne, straightened up with a flourish, and stood next to Albedo.
"Well, if that's the case," he began, trying to sound majestic, "let's go, Maylena, perform the ceremony!"
Maylena beamed and enthusiastically began reciting "wedding vows" filled with absurd phrases like "in sickness and in raids" and "until mana runs dry." Momonga's mouth twitched, but he involuntarily glanced at Albedo. Her golden eyes and graceful figure sparked a fleeting thought: It wouldn't be bad if a girl like that existed in real life. He immediately shook off the fantasies—it was just a game, nonsense!
The ceremony ended. Maylena clapped her hands, Momonga followed suit, and even Albedo, like a programmed NPC, joined in synchronously. They returned to their thrones, and Maylena, stretching lazily, asked:
"So, what do you want for a last hurrah, Momonga?"
He pondered, looking at the majestic hall.
"Yggdrasil 2," he replied half-jokingly. "So that everything continues."
Maylena smirked, her voice becoming enigmatic.
"Yggdrasil 2, you say? Maybe something interesting will happen…"
Momonga waved it off. GM or not, Maylena wouldn't reveal secrets—it was against the confidentiality rules. But deep down, a hope flickered that a continuation was possible. Time passed, the timer relentlessly counting down the final seconds. Momonga prepared to log out, already planning to go to sleep, when suddenly…
Tick-tock-tick…
The timer continued to tick. Momonga opened his eyes in shock. What the?! Maylena's insane laughter shattered the silence. He turned to her, meeting her beautiful eyes that seemed to stare straight into his soul. Albedo's voice, full of concern, snapped him out of his stupor:
"Lord Momonga, what's happening?"
Standing before him were Maylena, still laughing, and Albedo, whose eyes now radiated not programmed emptiness, but… awareness? Reality around him trembled, and one thought pounded in Momonga's head: What the hell?!
***
Momonga wasn't just surprised—he was stunned, his mind floundering in chaos. The world around him trembled, and Maylena, rising from her throne, began to perform some ridiculous dance, humming a tune.
What the hell, Mel! Momonga thought, but he didn't have time to finish the thought. Albedo, with concern in her eyes, stepped towards him.
"My husband, are you alright?" Her voice trembled with anxiety.
Momonga froze, his jaw metaphorically dropping. Her husband?! She looked… alive. Real. Suddenly, his nostrils filled with scents—flowers, metal, even the fragrance of her perfume. This wasn't Yggdrasil! Emotions overwhelmed him, but a strange relief replaced the panic. Albedo looked at him with such care that he swallowed inwardly. Deciding to test things, he asked in a trembling voice:
"Albedo, come closer."
"Yes, my Lord!" She jumped up with enthusiasm.
Momonga touched her hand. A pulse. Warm skin. She's alive?! Shocked, he, obeying an impulse, touched her chest with his bony hand. Albedo gasped, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quickened. Momonga froze—this was 18+ content! But then another hand—Maylena's—shamelessly squeezed Albedo's breast, eliciting another moan.
"Albedo's got some great tits!" Maylena declared, squeezing her own chest for comparison. "But mine are clearly better!"
Albedo gasped louder, and Momonga opened his mouth in shock. Mel, you're not helping! he mentally screamed. Emotion suppression kicked in, and he, composing himself, roared:
"Maylena, stop it!"
She stuck out her tongue, calling him a prude, but stopped. Momonga glanced at Albedo—her glazed eyes burned with desire. He shuddered. Maylena, giggling, added fuel to the fire:
"She's ready to bang you, even if you're all bones! But we'll fix that."
Before Momonga could object, black slime enveloped him. His lungs burned, panic washed over him. When the slime dissipated, he felt… flesh? Looking at himself, he saw a young, black-haired guy whose beauty could eclipse xianxia heroes. Albedo, wasting no time, pounced on him, frantically trying to pull down his pants. Momonga, in complete shock, fought her off, while Maylena burst into laughter.
"Faster than all the isekai heroes who get raped in another world!" she cackled.
"Maylena, stop it! Help!" Momonga howled.
Maylena, still laughing, touched Albedo's face, burning with desire, and said softly:
"Not yet, darling. Be patient."
A green glow enveloped Albedo, and she calmed down, stepping back. Momonga, panting, collapsed to the floor, still in shock. Maylena held out her hand, helping him up. Her skin was soft, and Momonga involuntarily blushed. She playfully waggled her eyebrows:
"Already fallen in love?"
"Cut it out!" he muttered, but Maylena continued, squeezing her own chest for effect:
"Momonga, you're a friend, but these tits are only for the ladies. No offense!" And she winked.
"Stop joking!" he exploded. "Mel, where are we? What's going on?"
Maylena giggled.
"Call me Maylena. But for you, Mel is a privilege. - She struck an affected pose. - Be grateful!"
Momonga smacked himself on the forehead, facepalming. Regaining his composure, he coughed and turned to Albedo:
"Gather all the Floor Guardians on the sixth floor."
Albedo, still reluctantly, nodded and left, her footsteps echoing in the hall. Maylena commented:
"Nice ass."
"Maylena!" Momonga roared.
"Prude," she scoffed, humming a tune and heading somewhere. Momonga, still bewildered, trailed after her.
"Mel, what's happening?" he asked, barely keeping up.
"Didn't you want Yggdrasil 2?" she replied with a smile. "Here it is! Your isekai, Momonga. What's not to understand?"
"Isekai? Yggdrasil 2? What nonsense?!" he exclaimed, but Maylena only merrily tossed World Items around like trash. Ouroboros, World Savior—everything went flying onto the floor. Momonga, picking them up, felt like a beggar trailing after a rich woman. His heart ached with indignation.
"Maylena, stop throwing items around!" he howled.
She only giggled, and soon they found themselves in a spacious room with a huge table. Maylena plopped down on a chair, and Momonga, sighing wearily, sat opposite her. She began to take out… food? The table filled with dishes that made Momonga's eyes bulge. Roasted dragon, elven fruits, dishes only seen in fan art. The aroma hit his nostrils, and his stomach traitorously rumbled.
"Eat," Maylena smirked. "Questions later."
Momonga, still in shock, stared at the feast before him, realizing that this New World was something more than he could have imagined.