Overlord of biblical proportions: Return of the Biblical God (14)

In Yggdrasil, Momonga often found himself persecuted and hunted by the other Players, the Human Players at least. After all, as a Heteromorph there were no penalties or negative statuses imposed for killing him or his fellow guild mate, and most NPCs wouldn’t even put any notice for his death. Some even approved of destroying heteromorphic race Players and would give special benefits to the Players that had hunted them down. 

In fact, certain special skills or classes even actually required killing heteromorphic Players before they could be obtained. The Developers’ biases couldn’t be any clearer. 

So, as a matter of course, Momonga was beyond prepared and willing to conceal his heteromorphic nature from the inhabitants of this world to the best of his abilities. Moreover, considering that he was undead, he possessed several serious weaknesses and strengths that were in-built to his race. If his true identity as an Undead would be found out, any potential opponents could prepare both to defend against his strengths and exploit his weaknesses. 

Of course, even in such cases, by proper preparation and planning, Momonga could lure an opponent into a multi-layered trap, lulled by their expectations. But, despite such a thing, it would be easier and better to hide his Undead nature, than to test how the world would react to it. Or how much he could be viewed as a ‘benevolent God’ if he initially revealed himself as an Undead.

However, regarding necromancy, his bread, and butter, there was no such restriction in Yggdrasil. Any Player, including those with positive karma, could learn such spells as long as they met the requirements of permissible schools and classes. Moreover, some priests of exclusively good gods could calmly summon undead and received bonuses not much inferior to those of full-fledged necromancers. Even in the ‘Holy Bible’ that Jesus fellow seems to be reviving the dead left and right, even himself at one point, and no one cried ‘Necromancer!’.

So, Momonga, unlike his Undead nature, didn’t think that he would need to hide his ability to revive the dead, or even summon them. 

The summoned [Skeleton Warrior] stepped forward, it was an ordinary-looking skeleton covered in long-decayed armor that clearly provided no defensive properties by itself, armed with a scimitar in one hand and a round shield in the other. A simple summon that Momonga himself rarely used in battle. [Skeleton Warriors] didn't possess any special abilities, but were more or less battle-capable. With protection from the simple elemental levels of the 1st and 2nd Tier, it approximately had an equal prowess to a level 16 Player. 

A badly equipped, with a non-optimized build, level 16 Player, sure, but the point still stands.

Of course, if Momonga used the abilities his Necromancer classes gave him, he could strengthen them to about level 25. But, even at that level they wouldn't gain any special abilities, and their combat effectiveness relative to Momonga himself would still remain at a negligible level. 

But for the purposes of demonstrating Momonga's abilities, summoning a [Skeleton Warrior] was enough.

Therefore, after stepping forward, the [Skeleton Warrior] stopped, looking at Momonga with the empty eye sockets of its equally empty skull without doing anything else. And yet, Momonga himself was ready to swear that the Summon, despite being very dead and without the ability to communicate, looked at Momonga with a devoted gaze, like a newcomer who had just started at a new job, eager to impress his new bosses.

However, unlike Momonga, who was used to interacting with even more wretched looking Undead, all the other people in the classroom recoiled when the summoned undead stepped forward. Except for Xenovia, Murayama, and Johan, who looked at the scene with an unperturbed expression on their faces. 

Momonga could understand why Xenovia or Johan wouldn’t show any surprise, their job probably had exposed them to Undead before… But why does Murayama look the same?

Momonga however, didn’t have the presence of mind to ask, as the ensuing tense atmosphere, and the stifling silence, made him want to escape. Maybe even use an excuse that some kind of particularly urgent Divine business had suddenly popped up. But, despite all his instinct to escape the awkward atmosphere, he forcibly nailed himself to the spot, wrapping himself in his [Emotion Suppression] like impenetrable armor. Still, [Emotion Suppression] or not, he turned slightly to the side, so that he didn't have to look at most of the people in the class.

Coughing into his hand, as a measure to break the silence, he decided to finally address Murayama, who had simply raised her hand, clearly wanting to ask something. "Yes! Murayama, do you have a question?"

"Whose body was used to create the skeleton?" Murayama's question sounded innocent enough, but it had instantly made Katase, Asia, Aika, and Saji flinch even harder, whose eyes immediately widened in horror. Momonga almost slapped himself on the forehead for missing the obvious.

"No one's, of course, it's just a Summon." Momonga sighed, of course, the people who, a day before, were nothing more than normal students would be shocked at seeing what they thought would be a dead body.

A moment later, the four loudly exhaled, relaxing immediately, and Momonga internally scratched his head in confusion. Even if it wasn't just a Summon, and he had indeed used a real body to create the [Skeleton Warrior] what was the problem with using other people's bodies to summon Undead? 

Did he look so terrible a boss that they would assume he used his followers for the summoning? After all, he could use the many enemy bodies that no longer served a use for experimentation for it. Or, in the worst case, buy unclaimed bodies from the funeral houses, they always have a lot of bodies that they want to get rid of, wasn't that an efficient use of resources and bodies in this case? 

Apparently, in this world, they hadn't yet come to start recycling bodies into protein powder, why though? Unless processed the bodies would just rot and decompose, do they not at least harvest the organs? It would be quite stupid not to use them.

However, Momonga's reflections on the imperfect use of resources in this world were interrupted by Johan's words, more specifically, his undiluted praise. 

"This is simply incredible!"

Johan took several steps toward the skeleton, which completely ignored his movements, before pulling out a pair of glasses set in a thin frame, a magic item of sorts, probably. Wearing it, he examined the skeleton from top to bottom, examining the skeleton standing before him with the face of a man who had just experienced a true religious revelation. "So... Summoning this skeleton, really, doesn't use anyone's body for its creation?"

"Yes, you just witnessed my summoning of the [Skeleton Warrior], I didn’t just lug a dead body around." Momonga looked carefully at Johan, trying to understand what the problem was in his words. "Have you never seen summons before?"

"Of course I have, Lord Momonga, but they usually consist of… Well, summoning," Johan looked at Momonga as if apologizing before hurrying to clarify his words. 

"That is, someone previously created something, say, summoned an elemental and created undead — and then summoned it to the battlefield before them. Or, perhaps, someone can create some magical construct on the spot or summon an elemental, but never just create something from nothing… And especially not an Undead, Lord Momonga."

Hearing these words, Momonga finally caught on to what Johan was talking about, but didn't manage to speak before Xenovia interrupted him. 

"A miracle! This is a Miracle of the Lord!"

Xenovia looked at the [Skeleton Warrior] and Momonga with such veneration that he wanted to awkwardly rub his neck, and downplay his achievement. It was weird after all, to be praised so fervently for doing what basically amounted to a parlor trick in the grand scheme of things. It’s like he was a child being praised for ‘cleaning their plates’ by overly affectionate parents.

"S-so... no one died?" Asia addressed Momonga, still carefully eyeing the skeleton, fearing that it would suddenly rush at her.

"No, of course not," Momonga decided simply not to mention that he possessed abilities that do need real physical bodies for him to make permanent summons, and that he practiced them every day, increasing the army of Nazarick. He might be an idiot about social interactions, but his instincts were telling him that that news would be taken quite… poorly right now.

His words were enough for the tense people in the room to finally relax a bit, but Johan, having examined the summoned undead from all sides, took off his glasses before turning to Momonga, 

"This is absolutely definitely a real Undead, but the fact that it was created from nothing, without using a body… This is simply phenomenal!"

After another moment, Johan froze and suddenly averted his gaze, clearly feeling very uncertain, 

"However, I apologize, but… I'm not sure what exactly I can learn from this demonstration, my Lord. It contradicts all the laws of magic known to me… Or is a working of magic at such a high level that I simply cannot understand anything from observing such a spell…"

"Of course — it's a Miracle of the Lord!" Xenovia's voice dragged Momonga from his [Emotion Suppression] fugue and that he had fallen into after being told that his demonstration had failed to teach Johan anything useful. And when all else fails… Time for some random bullshit!

"Isn't that what understanding magic is first built on?" Momonga stepped back, trying to display utmost confidence that he most definitely did not have. He then theatrically extended his hand to the side, pointing to the [Skeleton Warrior] that still hadn't moved from its spot after being summoned. 

"How can one who refuses to overcome obstacles become stronger?! To become a champion — each time you must take heavier and heavier weights, and to become a scientist — each time you study more and more complex questions!"

Please fall for this… Momonga silently prayed to the God that he was trying to pass himself as.

"It doesn't matter how much time and attempts it takes you to understand this spell — what matters is that you will do it one day!" Momonga casually wove into the conversation the thought that if Johan ultimately couldn't figure out this spell, then it wasn't Momonga's fault, Johan simply didn't try hard enough and made too few attempts. It might be a scummy tactic, but he was grasping at straws at this point.

"I believe that one day you will be able to learn everything and achieve a true understanding of magic!"

After these words, Momonga stepped back, then suddenly realized that many pairs of eyes were looking at him right now, he coughed into his fist, wanting nothing else but to end his presentation, 

"Umu~! I believe my presence here is no longer needed. I believe in each of you and therefore leave you with… Um, with my blessing — learn, grow, and live — and may God… That is, I, be with you."

After another moment, Momonga waved his hand, creating a [Gate] portal midair, and stepped into it, doing his best to hide from the gazes of the class. When the [Gate] finally closes behind him, he could finally take a breath of relief, away from the weight of the gazes of his followers…

His strangely gender lopsided followers…

“Huh, is it strange that out of the seven people in that class, only two were men…? In fact, out of all the ‘students’ only Saji was a guy. But, I suppose, there's nothing terrible about that?"

***

The students left without Lord Momonga's presence, which included Johan himself, who was a student of Lord Momonga himself, froze for a moment at His sudden departure. A silence that was broken when a sob broke through the silence.

Looking at its source, they saw Asia, who was now looking downwards, embarrassed by the sudden attention placed on her.

"S-sorry…" She mumbled embarrassedly, her sobs still bubbling to the surface, as she tried to curl up into a ball, to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. "I-I just… got scared…"

"I understand, this whole situation is just some kind of nonsense…" Aika tried to calm the nun down, even starting to move to support her, the clearly frightened nun. She didn’t manage to do so, as the ‘frightened’ nun suddenly lost her sad look, to be replaced by a smile so bright that it could figuratively light up a room. 

"But I understand now! This is truly the God I believed in! I understand how the shepherds felt when an Angel appeared before them, and they feared his shining light, before they rejoiced at the announcement that the Savior was born!"

Aika instantly stopped in her tracks, clearly reconsidering the words of encouragement she had just planned to offer Asia as support. Xenovia however had no such compulsions. 

"Fear not, child, for God is always with us! And as His faithful Apostles—we shall fear nothing!"

"A-apostles?!" Aika recoiled from the word as if from a physical blow.

"Your boyfriend clearly knows how to pick his girls." Murayama's ‘whisper’ might as well be as loud as a nuclear explosion, the way it immediately drew the attention of the whole class. Except for Johan, of course, who already knew, it was one of the reasons he had invited the girls to the class, after all. 

"Boyfriend?!" Saji shouted in incomprehension, while Xenovia, immediately appearing next to Katase like she had just used a teleportation spell, couldn’t help but exult her excitement. 

"So you are the Virgin Mary!"

After such incomprehensible words, Xenovia, in violation of any possible etiquette, bent at the waist, and looked uncomfortably close to Katase’s flat stomach, who indignantly squeaked and tried to hide behind Murayama's back. 

"Tell me, is the child of the Lord already growing in your womb?! Hello, Lord Jesus, can you hear me!?" Xenovia, undeterred, tried her best to step past Murayama, who just looked like an awkward bystander.

"Nothing is growing anywhere in me, I'm still in high school!" Katase shouted from behind her friend, not daring to show even a part of her body, lest she get molested by Xenovia. 

"The Lord will not despise faithful followers, whatever age they may be!" Xenovia pronounced this as if interpreting Katase's words as a confession and was now offering her support.

"What… He already has three girlfriends?!" Saji's voice sounded as something between respect and offense.

"Enough talking!" Johan's loud clap caused the hubbub to die down, the gazes of all those present back to him. "We've been distracted from the lesson enough, and Lord Momonga clearly wouldn't want this from us!"

With such pronouncement, Xenovia and Asia's gazes instantly widened as if they were disappointed by their own action, Katase finally peeked out from behind her friend's back, and even Aika, was forced to return to pressing matters.

"If we truly want to one day achieve mastery in the art and science of magic — we'd better return to our lesson!" Johan pronounced, then looked at the skeleton that remained standing in its place even after Momonga's departure, and then went back to the class, clapping his hands again. 

"I've already given you the basics of magical theory, so let's try to put it into practice..."

***

Griselda had met Angels before, the divine messenger of the Lord, several times in fact. Once, she had even been to Heaven; the lowest level for sure, but it was still an achievement not many alive, literally, could boast. She, when compared to even many other Exorcists, was somewhat used to seeing Angels. 

But even for her, until this moment, her closest interaction with a Seraphim was when she accidentally saw Lord Metatron passing by her in the Vatican. Not that Lord Metatron had addressed her in any way, or had even noticed her; no, she just literally caught sight of him as he was returning to the Vatican to deliver her annual report. 

So to find herself now, standing right next to the Ten Seraphim, even among the Four Archangels, it almost made the other people in the meeting, the highest Echelons of the Church, almost lacking in comparison. Which is unfair to the Church higher-ups like the Supreme Pontiff, or Ewald Cristaldi, or legendary Exorcists like Vasco Strada, or Dulio Gesualdo, names that resound throughout the Church hierarchy. 

She herself, Griselda Quarta, might be included in such a lineup, but she herself never thought that she would be included in the meeting of such high esteem.

Though, even if she, a veteran Exorcist, felt that way, she could not imagine how it must have felt for Irina Shidou, a green and wet behind the ears Exorcist, who has become the center of attention for such powerful figures. As her mentor, Griselda had to at least affect an appearance of confidence, if nothing else, to make sure that Irina could stand strong as she delivered her report. 

And, to her badly hidden pride, Irina had delivered her report in a praise-worthy way, only the fact that her voice sounded too stilted and her gait too stiff betrayed the fact that her nerves were quite shot.

"Thank you, Irina, for the report…" Michael pronounced from his seat at the head of the table, then surveyed all those present with a glance. And if he noticed how Irina almost literally sighed in relief, he didn’t note it. 

"What should we do now?"

"We must go to Kuoh!" Gabriel spoke out before all the other attendees had time to collect their thoughts.

"This is definitely a trap!" Sandalphon opined immediately after the sister of the Archangels made her opinion known, 

"Kuoh is Devil territory! We must not fall for such an obvious trap!”

“But then, would they really make such a trap when they are under such scrutiny after their conflict with the Grigori?” Uriel, the more calm of the bunch asked, even as his expression fell at the mention of the Fallen brothers and sisters, their fate, at the hands of the Devils, and then from Michael still a sore point. 

"It is because the Devils were themselves attacked by the Grigori That this is unmistakably a trap! This could have set in motion some old plan of theirs, prepared for such a case!"

"Why would they create such a trap?! War between Heaven and the Devils will lead to nothing, there would be no winners — for centuries the Devils have avoided such a confrontation!" Uriel didn't give up, but this time he was interrupted by Raziel, instead of Raphael, 

"That doesn't mean they haven't changed their position on it! We cannot operate based on the idea that Devils haven't changed their positions in a hundred years — especially after they were attacked by Grigori! Who knows what kind of sentiment is brewing against us after our Fallen brethren attacked the Gremory."

"Then they are choosing the stupidest way to lure us into a trap. No Angel will just believe that the Lord has returned to Earth," Metatron intervened in the discussion that was slowly threatening to become a violent altercation.

"Half of those here, apparently, are quite ready to believe it!" Sariel shouted, showing that they had joined the camp of the ‘non-believers’. 

"The moment we find ourselves in Kuoh, as the ones most likely to recognize the Father, is the moment when the Devils will have a chance to strike one powerful blow against Heaven. I would not be surprised if the Crimson Satan would be greeting us!"

"And what about the presence of Devils who aren't bothered by being in a church, pronouncing the Lord's name, while holding the Bible in their hands?! What about that, Brothers!?" Gabriel again joined in the debate, clearly taking on the role of the leader of the faction that believed that the Father had returned.

With that one last argument, the room finally settled down, for the meantime those who had an opinion had spoken out, leaving only one, the one that matters the most. As the ‘discussion’ settled down, everyone’s eyes were drawn to the last Archangel who hadn’t spoken a single word. 

Michael. 

After all, as the interim leader of the Heavens, till the day that Father would return, which just makes the current discussion very personal. The one who is now controlling the [Heaven System] in the stead of their Father, Michael would be the one that knows most about the Father’s potential return. 

"I haven't observed any errors in the operation of the [Heaven System] recently," After a long moment of thoughts, Michael spoke precisely, not taking either side of the discussion. 

"But I cannot fully vouch that none had arisen and that I didn't miss any of them in the past…"

It was a non-answer, and everyone present knows it, but, at the very least, it hadn’t added to the confusion. Instead, it had emboldened more of the Angels to opine.

"I think that we're getting ahead of ourselves here… After all, is the Devil residing in a Church truly so unaffected by the Holy artifacts that they were holding? Who can say that they aren’t just hiding the debilitating effects? Devils are tricky beings after all. If this ‘Demiurge’ was even half as strong as young Irina said he was, it is not far-fetched that such a Devil could endure the pain for the sake of such trickery.” Raziel spoke next to Gabriel, the doubt clear in his voice.

"And what about the incredible release of holy energy?! Can that also be simply attributed as part of the spectacle?!" Remiel was next to add their opinion, "We have a release of holy energy many times higher than [Durandal] or even [Excalibur], if it were fully restored!"

"There's surely some other explanation for this," Sandalphon intervened again, before her eyes were drawn to the few Humans sitting at the table, Dulio was raising his hands, like a school student trying to attract the attention of a teacher.

"What?!"

"My apologies if my question sounds stupid… But why? Why is the Father appearing all over the place, but Heaven?” Dulio then sighed. “ Why in Japan? In the specific singular town that is Devil territory? Or why in a small, random town in Germany? Why not appear in Heaven directly?”

"Perhaps because Daddy — I mean, the Lord—doesn't believe in our loyalty!" Gabriel pinned with her gaze half the table, the host of Angels gainsaying her position, "And not without reason!"

"What are you hinting at?! I am a faithful follower of the Lord and will give my life the moment he tells me to!" Sariel was so indignant that the wings behind his back slightly intensified their radiance, momentarily flashing white. Not the light that church followers saw as a symbol of purity, faith, and angelic nature, but that dangerous deathly white that burned all darkness on this earth by the Lord's command.

"It seems that only half of those present here are quite ready to believe it!" Metatron returned the barb, and the atmosphere in the meeting hall grew heavier. Accusations of heresy and disbelief were accusations of the highest order, and even a hint of them could end, at best, with quick deaths. So to hear the Seraphims, the highest authority of the Church and the Heavens, levy such heavy accusations against each other, perhaps before they would welcome the return of the Father, the Heavens would be suffering yet another Civil War. 

If so, who would be playing the part of Helel? Not exactly a question to be asked in such a tense situation, Griselda at least knows that much. 

Therefore, seeing that nothing would be gained by keeping his silence, Michael loudly clapped his hands. It was a gesture calling for order, and befitting as the leader of the Heavens, the angels that looked like they were about to jump off of their seats and started punching, sat back down. Still, the divide was clear in the heated glares, and the taut muscles, nevertheless they all looked at Michael to make a decision, recognizing his full authority in matters of such kind.

"Perhaps we approached this discussion wrongly…" Michael spoke calmly, as if taking upon himself the responsibility for the heated atmosphere of the meeting, and now trying to cool the most heated heads and arguments. 

"Perhaps we should discuss the truthfulness of the statement brought to us, and to what extent it is true, as we don’t have the ability to safely determine such a thing. Instead, we should discuss what to do with the information, and to what extent we could show what we know… There is no way that the other Factions hadn’t gotten at least an inkling of the information, after all.”

Irina would have liked to defend the fact that she would not leak such an information, but she knows that the Archangel was not impugning her honor or ability. But, as if to assuage her further, Michael smiled her way, to reassure her that he was not blaming her, and Irina couldn’t help but blush, the Archangel was a very beautiful man after all.

No, the news of the return of the Father, or at least some part of it would inevitably leak, two can keep a secret only if one is dead; and probably not even then with all the Death gods and strange magics of the world. 

After letting his words sink in, Michael nodded, giving Ewald a non-verbal sign, and he nodded in response, "Whatever the truth may be — in any case, it should not be allowed to reach church believers."

Ewald fell silent, no longer adding information for reflection and not indicating with his gaze at anyone, but all observers perfectly understood the meaning of his words. 

If even the Seraphims, the highest rank of Angels, on whose shoulders rested the work of Heaven and Paradise itself, almost came to fist fights when discussing the news of the Father’s possible return, then such information definitely should not reach the ordinary exorcists, let alone parishioners. The Church didn't need another massive schism, especially in the current conditions of uncertainty in relations with the Devils, the surge of activity from the Khaos Brigade, and the destruction of the Grigori. 

Even more so, it didn't need a new wave of ‘Reformation Wars’, this time with the Angels participating.

"But we really cannot simply ignore what happened," Vasco Strada pronounced measuredly, before turning his gaze to Irina. "As I understand it, Xenovia should still be in Kuoh, right?"

The mention of Griselda's adopted daughter made her heart clench in pain for a moment, but she strengthened her heart with the faith that the Lord would guide Xenovia, and returned her attention back to the meeting, seeing how seriously Irina nodded in response.

"I couldn't have brought her back by my own power, any possible confrontation with her… I considered it unwise. So she, [Excalibur Destruction], and [Durandal] are still in Kuoh — at least, I assume so."

"Two [Holy Swords] at once and one of the most outstanding [Holy Swordswomen] in recent times lost… In a Devil territory that is currently left without their attention – at least, officially speaking.“ Ewald intervened in the discussion instantly, quickly assembling the overall picture in his head and calculating one plan after another, 

"The appearance of one of the Seraphims may be incorrectly perceived by the other factions as an act of aggression in such conditions, but at least we can try to cover such actions with official business in this case."

"I am ready to go to Kuoh!" Metatron raised his hand instantly, but was forced to sit down by one frosty glance from Gabriel, who slightly rose from her seat, "I will go to Japan."

"Why you, sister!? You were the first to believe that the Lord really appeared in Kuoh!" Sandalphon managed to speak out before her mind caught up with her loosened tongue, freezing as she realized what she had just said.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Sandalphon?" Gabriel slowly turned towards her sister, her fellow Seraphim, and with just that alone, Sandalphon was pinned to her seat. Griselda was unsure how it must have felt, but perhaps if she dove to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, she might understand a part. 

Although Gabriel was the ‘Angel of Mercy’, right now there was nothing merciful in her face, for Sandalphon was looking not at ‘the most beautiful flower of Heaven’, but at the bearer of the seals of the Apocalypse. 

"I am the second creation of the Lord after Michael — are you saying that I would confuse my Father from some machination of the Devils?"

"Enough, Gabriel," Michael raised his hand, and the golden wings behind his back barely noticeably pulsated, as if to forcibly drive away the heavy atmosphere in the meeting room. And thankfully, for all present, the Angel that had granted ‘mercy’ to so many during the Great War, sat back down.

"I believe in your judgment and in your ability to assess the situation with all thoroughness and strictness. I ask only one thing of you, sister; that you don't risk yourself needlessly. If at any moment you feel a trap forming around you, or if you just feel a drop of uncomfortableness — return immediately. Heaven counts not on your self-sacrifice, but on your return."

"Of course, Michael," Gabriel responded with a smile, melting the previous iciness of her expression like dew in the morning. 

"After all, Daddy would want us all to live well."

***

"ACHOO!" Momonga sneezed loudly, then sharply turned his head to look around him, because he was worried that someone might have seen him sneezing. It was a matter of life and death, after all. 

He had no idea why, but for the last few minutes he had been uncontrollably sneezing, and since as an Undead, he has full Immunity to disease, the only possible reason why he would be sneezing was that his nose was being assaulted by dust. If he was not in Nazarick right now, it would just be a trifling matter, he would simply grab one of the many handkerchiefs in his Inventory, and go on with his day. 

But, since he was, actually, in Nazarick, suddenly things are more serious. After all, God forbid, which he was supposed to be now, one of the NPCs, or worse, the maids, noticed him sneezing. They would think that it was because whichever room or corridor he was in was not cleaned thoroughly enough. Then he would have to assign some [Death Knights] to the maid that is responsible for cleaning that part of Nazarick for a couple of months. 

One to protect said maid from the other NPCs’ zealous desire to kill them, and another to prevent said maid from killing themselves. Assuming, of course, that it would end in a couple of months and that the [Death Knight] wouldn't prefer to let her ‘redeem her shame with her life’, or something similar.

Pausing for a moment to see if the sneezing would start again, Momonga relaxed when after a few minutes his nose remained calm. Finally, he could think of the things that had just happened.

Momonga's magic lesson went, no matter how you look at it, catastrophically, but on the scale of catastrophes that Momonga regularly got into, it was quite mild. Therefore, Momonga could call it even a success, relative to alternative outcomes, of course. 

However, the magic lesson had exposed another weakness of Momonga, not in terms of his magical education, Momonga himself understood that he knows nothing in that regard; but in terms of his understanding of the local realities.

Momonga's memories of Yggdrasil were practically his only source of how he could perceive the world around him, especially the paranormal world. After all, he himself possessed a body that came to him from Yggdrasil, and he was surrounded by exactly the same beings from Nazarick. Furthermore, many concepts of this world, abilities, or creatures also corresponded to what Momonga knew from Yggdrasil. 

Therefore, relying on his past knowledge from the game, Momonga could too easily fall to the mistaken illusion that this world was the same as the world of Yggdrasil. After all his magic works the same way, his strength and weaknesses were the same, even if he was convinced time after time that these worlds were still different worlds, it was an easy mistake to fall into.

This time he was lucky he was able to stumble his way in making his ramblings seem justifiable before his followers from the new world, but it wouldn't continue endlessly. Relying on luck alone is not a smart move. If he doesn't develop a clear strategy now, then, sooner or later, someone will expose his farce with his disguise as God. 

Especially considering that, so far, he has met exclusively with people who knew about God only from stories and textbooks. The moment he meets someone who has seen the real Biblical God, his lies will instantly be exposed.

But how could he fix this?

First, just lying was the easiest way to go about it. He could claim that he had lost his memory. But even Momonga knew that such an excuse was paper thin. Such full, retrograde amnesia happened very rarely and more the conventions of bad anime and games rather than real life. It is also the bare excuse that criminals use to excuse dark deeds, like the ones he was planning to do… So, it would not be an excuse he would use unless he’s really out of options. 

But, if not memory loss, then what could justify his absolute change in priorities and personality? There’s no way he could act convincingly as God to those that know Him after all.

Not for a lack of trying of course. Momonga had, carefully, prodded Demiurge to gather information about his ‘past’, and of course, Demiurge had delivered. 

Once again, Momonga perused the thin folder about the brief information that Demiurge was able to obtain from the inhabitants of this world about God. That Lucifer had killed the Biblical God before dying himself. 

Demiurge himself had his own conjectures, which he perceived as the truth, that instead of dying, the Holy Spirit of the Biblical God sacrificed his powers, and the deceased body of the Father of the Biblical God was used by him to create Momonga himself. That is, he became a first-level undead, emerging from two hypostases of the Biblical God, after which his third was embodied in Pandora's Actor. 

Thus, then Momonga grew into his powers, developed, that is, leveled up in Yggdrasil, founded the guild Ainz Ooal Gown, each of whose participants was his kind of reflection through a crooked mirror. That is, the same God from another world, who were united together and captured Nazarick, making it home. Demiurge explained away his guild mates quitting the game, as they were returning back to their world, to solve some problem or another. While Momonga, together with Nazarick, went back to his home world to fulfill his inconceivably important mission in this world.

As he reached that part of the document, smiling wryly that he himself wanted to believe Demiurge's wrong assumptions at what had happened with his friends, Momonga froze for a moment. It was as if a lightbulb had turned on, on top of his head.  

He then raised his fist and sharply hit it into his open palm.

“That could work! Exactly, a mission!”

He can declare that he learned something incredibly critical… Or, maybe, saw something in the future, and now must behave differently because he is preparing to fulfill a very important mission! Something global and grandiose!

“But still, what kind of mission though?”

Momonga had absolutely no idea about the mission he could have been engaged in all this time—something global and important…  The only thing Momonga could think of, was the preparation for various raids or major PvP battles his Guild had undertaken. And, of course, the grand attack on Nazarick itself, 

The phenomenal battle for Nazarick itself, that ended with Nazarick's victory, though without his, or his friends’ personal participation, as the largest raid in the history of Yggdrasil simply didn't get past the [Eighth Floor] of Nazarick. 

Momonga thought more for a moment, but no other ideas came to his head; so, after some reflection, Momonga accepted this idea as his main working plan. He would justify all further events and changes in himself by the need to prepare for a huge raid — that is, for an attack that could decide the fate of the world!

Though… What kind of enemy would he point his fingers at? It needs to be an enemy that is not only strong sounding, but also impossible for anyone to reach. After all, if they were weak, and also possible to reach, it is very likely that the NPCs of Nazarick would be baying for their blood immediately and kill them.

What would he do then? Point at yet another incredible enemy? That is where the second part of his plan comes in.

Of course, the attack was an absolutely made-up reason, as was his idea of parallel worlds, and the monster that would come from a parallel world, planning to attack. The excerpt from Demiurge about how his guild mates come from parallel worlds would help in making his lie appear to be the truth. 

It was a very thin plan, but these are the words he would use to justify himself in case someone later catches him in a lie or in the inconsistencies of his story.

Now with a plan, Momonga nodded to himself with his expression brightened up.

And, just like Momonga did, countless figures from all around the world and dimensions, sneezed as their names were mentioned. It carried forth from Momonga along the chain further than any of the inhabitants of this world could know or assume.