The grand hall of Nazarick remained surrounded by reflective silence. Draegor and Ainz Ooal Gown spent hours discussing the existence of the undead, their political ideologies, and the different methods through which they could extend their power. Though no formal treaty had been inked so far, some form of agreement had already started to form between them.
The masters of Nazarick, who had been with the discussion, were observing their overlord's every action. Albedo and Demiurge in particular were very observant, their sharp brains dissecting each and every sentence that was exchanged between the two undead kings.
Draegor, for his part, was equally calculating. He knew that Ainz was an enigma—someone who wielded power far greater than most could ever hope to comprehend. But Draegor was not afraid at the same time.
Power would do him no good if he did not combine it with wisdom.
And he had more than enough of that as well.
Ainz's Contemplation
After the long speech, Ainz leaned back in his throne, his skeletal fingers tapping gently against the armrest. He looked introspective, considering carefully his next words.
Demiurge, having observed both leaders closely, at last spoke up.
"Lord Ainz, I have to say, this has been a most. interesting conversation. Lord Draegor's strategies are unorthodox. They remind me of something…" His golden eyes gleamed. "The way that you have commanded Nazarick, Supreme One, is reminiscent of his own tactics."
Albedo nodded, but her face was still wary. "Yes… but there are significant differences. Lord Draegor's army, however disciplined, is still an assimilation model-based. Although our beloved Supreme One's rule is absolute, his undead are constructed from the essence of Nazarick's divine will."
Draegor smiled slightly. "And yet, in operation, both methods provide unshakable devotion and power."
Ainz exhaled in an exaggerated motion—though he had no need to breathe, it was a habit he had retained from his human days.
He finally spoke.
"I have been considering something… Draegor, tell me—what is your ultimate goal?"
The question hung in the air for a moment.
Draegor closed his eyes briefly before answering.
"I would like to carve my niche in this world of men. Not as a warlord or a conqueror, but as something. better. The undead are generally considered abominations, instruments of destruction. I would like to change that worldview."
Ainz's red eyes softened. "What?"
Draegor continued.
"I shall build a dominion that flourishes—not in chaos, but in discipline. A kingdom of strength, form, and firm rule."
Ainz nodded his head slightly. His interest was evident.
"A kingdom of the undead?"
Draegor's eyes were unyielding. "Not only the undead. The strong. The worthy. Mortal or undead or whatever. Those who test their strength, will, and loyalty will have a place under my rule."
Ainz hesitated for a moment.
Then he laughed.
"Interesting. Very interesting."
A Walk Through the Darkened Halls
Their discussion at last came to a close, and Ainz extended an invitation to Draegor to continue their tour of Nazarick, but this time in an intimate setting.
In contrast to the first tour, where they had been attended by a group of guardians, today it was only the two of them—two undead monarchs together along the dark, beautifully crafted passages of the Great Tomb.
Blue torches flared eerily against the walls of black obsidian, and the shuffle of the undead drifted down the halls in the distance.
Ainz broke the long silence at last.
"You see, Draegor… I was once part of something greater."
Draegor glanced at him. "Oh?"
Ainz nodded. "I was a member of a guild before I entered this world. A brotherhood, founded by comrades who struggled together as equals." His tone was level, but underlying it was an enduring sadness.
Draegor remained silent, allowing Ainz the opportunity to continue.
"That guild is destroyed. I alone remain."
Draegor folded his arms. "And so you constructed this empire.".
Ainz nodded. "Yes. Nazarick is my home. My creation. My legacy. And I will do anything to defend it."
Draegor smiled. "Something we share in common."
Ainz stopped his pace. His red glowing eyes looked at Draegor.
".Maybe."
For the first time since their meeting, there was a sense of mutual understanding between them.
The Foundation of a Pact
By the time they returned to the grand chamber, both rulers had made their decisions.
Ainz resumed his seat at the head of the table, with Draegor still standing, his gaze unbroken.
Albedo, Demiurge, and various of Nazarick's highest-ranking officials all sat in attendance once more, waiting for their master's decision.
Ainz finally broke the silence.
"Lord Draegor. You have demonstrated yourself to be a ruler of wide power and acumen. While I do not yet know if our goals are perfectly aligned, I believe you to have potential."
Draegor sneered. "Likewise."
Ainz leaned forward slightly.
"I propose this—we will not be foes. At least, not yet. No, instead we will observe one another. Learn. And perhaps, with time, an actual alliance can be formed."
Draegor considered the words.
".A test of trust?"
Ainz nodded. "A trial of a sort."
Draegor breathed slowly. "Hmph. Fine. I accept."
Albedo's expression was unreadable, but Demiurge's eyes sparkled with interest.
Ainz leaned back. "Then it is decided."
There would be no war between them for the time being.
But what about the future?
Only time would tell.