The deal had been made, but the future was far from certain.
With Draegor's and Ainz Ooal Gown's deal now settled, the atmosphere in the Great Tomb of Nazarick shifted. The guardians, ever loyal to their Supreme One, stood watch. While no ill will remained, there was a tension beneath, a quiet awareness that both sides were still learning to know one another.
Draegor, however, did not mind.
He had come to learn, to observe, and to expand his knowledge of this world.
And Nazarick was full of information.
A Glimpse of the Inner Depths of Nazarick
After their formal accord, Ainz made an offer to Draegor, asking him to visit some of the inner depths of Nazarick—regions that had not been revealed to them before.
Draegor accepted.
With Albedo and Demiurge beside them, the two dead kings went down to the lower levels, into a domain that blurred divine refuge with nightmare realm.
The halls were packed with gigantic statues, carved from obsidian and gold, of warriors, monsters, and gods of mysterious origin. Ethereal blue fire torches illuminated the path, and shadows twisted unnaturally, as if living and moving.
Draegor could sense the unimaginable magical energy filling the air within Nazarick. It was something he never felt in his entire life.
Demiurge, who was a scholar, indicated one of the statues.
"These halls were designed to strike fear into the hearts of invaders, ensuring that none would enter without understanding the power they faced." His golden eyes gleamed. "Of course, you are not an invader, Lord Draegor. But consider this… if even the hallways of Nazarick are designed with such intricate defenses, imagine what lies deeper within."
Draegor smirked. "I would expect nothing less from a place such as this."
Albedo, who walked alongside Ainz, observed Draegor intently. "Lord Draegor, you have an army of undead assimilated warriors under your command, right? But your technique is different from Lord Ainz's own summoning methods. How does your system work?"
Draegor looked at her. He thought about not telling her anything, but decided that giving a partial explanation would not hurt.
"Power of mine allows me to absorb the defeated, imprisoning their soul in my realm. Unlike ordinary necromancy, which returns only corpses, my method preserves strength, proficiency, and combat reflexes."
Ainz, intrigued, stroked his skeletal chin. "Interesting. Really, you are not merely creating senseless zombies. You are preserving conscious mind and ability."
Draegor nodded. "Exactly."
Albedo, though, raised an eyebrow. "Then are they truly loyal? Or do they only obey because they have been coerced into it?"
Draegor's smirk widened ever so slightly. "Loyalty is learned in many ways. Some obey because they are afraid of me. Others obey because they believe my cause. And some…" His voice became a low whisper. ".because they have no other place to go."
Ainz fell silent for an instant.
And then, he laughed. "That. is not much different from Nazarick itself."
The conversation hung in the air as they recognized their descent.
A Meeting of Commanders
When they returned to the upper floors, there were some commanders of Nazarick who had convened.
Having observed Ainz commanding them, the strongest guardians had convened in the grand chamber, each wanting to assess this new guest's level on a higher scale.
Among them was:
Cocytus, the hulking insectoid warrior, arms folded across one another as he looked at Draegor with a calculating gaze.
Shalltear Bloodfallen, the vampire woman, wryly smiling as she twirled a goblet of blood-colored liquor.
Aura and Mare, the elf twins, shoulder to shoulder, curiosity evident.
Sebas Tian, the butler, face unreadable but unflaggingly watchful.
Draegor's own undead lieutenants had also rallied behind him. Although not even remotely as mighty- powerful as Nazarick's army, the mere fact of their presence was enough to make a difference.
Ainz gestured toward Draegor's side.
"Introduce them," he said in simple tones.
Draegor did so.
Walking forward, he introduced his strongest subordinates—each of them a warrior he had individually absorbed and molded into his fighting force.
Vaelthos the Fallen, a former knight-general turned Death Warden, clad in darkened armor, his glowing crimson eyes peering through his elaborate helm.
Xelira the Soulflame, a ghostly banshee-warrior, her body surrounded by purple flames, floating inches above the ground.
Malrik the Boneforged, a towering skeletal berserker, whose body was propped up by obsidian plating.
Zerik the Hollow, an enigmatic shadow-wraith, moving like a specter across the shadows.
Ainz and his guardians regarded them in contemplation.
"Imposing," Ainz spoke at last. "Each of them radiates a special strength."
Cocytus nodded in agreement. "They—are—warriors. Strong. Disciplined."
Shalltear leaned her head. "Mmm, but can they entertain?" She smiled. "Power is one thing, but elegance is another."
Draegor's smile deepened. "They don't dance, but they kill very well."
Shalltear laughed. "I like him."
Albedo, still watching intently, spoke up at last. "Lord Ainz… what do we do now?"
Ainz considered her words carefully before speaking.
"For now, we observe."
His shining red eyes turned to Draegor.
"And we plan for the future."
The World Beyond Nazarick
Although Nazarick was a stronghold of power, the rest of the world continued to function.
Far beyond its walls, powers were in motion. Empires were rising. Kingdoms were making their plays, unaware that two dead kings had just begun their journey toward something greater.
In the shadowy depths of the New World, whispers circulated of great powers acting in secret.
Draegor realized that his domination was only beginning.
Ainz realized that his legacy was still being crafted.
As for the time being, there wasn't war between them.
But the world itself.
It was changing.
And soon, the strongest would ascend to claim it.