Overlord of biblical proportions: Return of the Biblical God (8)

Emerging from the dark pools of [Gate], Momonga initially intended to speak with Demiurge before meeting the unknown emissaries from the church. He hoped, if not outright expected, that Demiurge wouldn’t immediately thrust Momonga into a confrontation with dangerous strangers. 

Momonga thought, or at least hoped, that by going to the church, he would be able to gather information about who he was about to meet. Names, positions, and the opposing side’s stance relative to his proposals — the most basics of information without which he wouldn’t act, even in his past life as a corporate worker. Any additional detail would only be a clear advantage. 

For example, if Momonga knew from the start that the other party agreed to his terms but couldn’t feasibly meet them, he would be able to play several cards in that regard.

However, the moment he was teleported to the church in the human world, Momonga found himself not only facing Demiurge and familiar Nazarick-protected denizens like the Fallen Angels, but also two unknown girls standing behind them, blades drawn.

Fortunately, Momonga restrained himself from reflexively attacking the armed strangers. 

His emotion suppression dispelled the momentary shock that had struck him, but even with his mind being calmed down, he wasn’t prepared for rapid panic-driven reasoning. Instead of speaking or acting, he instinctively activated [Aura of Despair I], just as he had once done in the [Amphitheater] on the [Sixth Floor] of Nazarick when receiving oaths of loyalty from the Floor Guardians. 

Though now, Momonga, even when lacking the amplifying power of Nazarick’s terrain effect boosts or even the [Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown], his [Despair Aura I] still carried devastating effects. After all, the Fallen Angels and the two Exorcists in front of him were far from being compared to the Level 100 NPCs.

Upon activating his aura, Momonga managed only a single step forward before a dissonant chorus of dull thuds distracted him. 

He turned his eyes to the source of the noise only to find rows of bodies collapsed face-first into the ground. Worse, their limp forms and stillness suggested they fell not out of reverence, but for the simplest of reasons. 

They had lost their consciousness.

“My apologies, Lord Momonga… It seems that even your loyal followers cannot withstand the radiance of your magnificence,” Demiurge’s voice, full of disappointment and concealed anger, thankfully not directed at him, snapped Momonga from his thoughts. Momonga could see that Demiurge’s usual smile looked wooden, as if he had to hold himself back from snarling.

Once again, Momonga was glad that it was not directed at him.

The demon remained kneeling, as if awaiting orders, while he directed the most spite-filled words that Momonga had ever heard. “There is no need to concern yourself, My Lord, with their punishment. I shall discipline them thoroughly once you permit me to leave your presence… I would make sure that they learn the proper way to respect their Lord, if it’s the last thing they do.”

“Ahem. Well,” Momonga blinked, surprised by the deep hatred that Demiurge was glaring at the unconscious people, shaking his head at Demiurge’s zeal. 

After all, it was Momonga’s own aura that had caused them to fall unconscious, his own mistake. Blaming them for lacking resistance to such effects — or himself for accidentally triggering it, was pointless. Besides, this is the perfect chance to perfect his disguise further. Forgiveness was supposed to be one of God’s attributes, right?

“Unnecessary, Demiurge. I forgive them.”

“Your mercy illuminates the soul of your humble servant like summer sunlight, Lord Momonga,” Demiurge replied, his perpetual smile unchanging,  though Momonga could’ve sworn it felt genuine this time. So much so that Momonga deactivated his aura and stared at the NPCs still kneeling…

Before finally remembering Nazarick’s inhabitants weren’t ordinary humans, he forced himself into the role of authoritative ruler, gesturing dismissively like he had many times before. “Enough, Demiurge. Rise. You are dismissed.”

Instantly, Demiurge stood, his narrowed eyes made his gaze unreadable, but Momonga was certain the demon was looking at the unconscious humans and Fallen Angels. It was as if he was measuring how he could make moving them as painful as possible, all for daring to be unconscious to hear his command.

Which is rather nonsensical, because there’s no way that unconscious people could hear, let alone do anything. But of course, being unconscious was not a good enough reason not to follow Momonga’s command in Demiurge’s eyes.

“Ahem, um, yes, of course,” Momonga replied, fully aware that his actions had brought everyone present to their current state. He tried to sugarcoat the pill: “There’s no need to worry, Demiurge. They’re absolutely not at fault. It’s just… difficult for them to… resist… my presence. Yes, that’s it.”

Pausing briefly a few times as he scrambled to articulate his thoughts, Momonga felt his suppression of emotions activate a moment later. He struggled to find the words to make sure that Demiurge doesn’t execute the Fallen and the humans. Seeing Demiurge no, Momonga hurriedly changed the subject before Demiurge could think of a suitable reason why they should still be punished, and shifted his gaze to the two unfamiliar girls joining the unconscious pile. 

“These two girls are the messengers from the Church, I assume?”

Momonga studied the two girls, both appeared to be around high school age, which made it even more confusing why they wore tight leather outfits, a hybrid between light armor from Yggdrasil and fetish gear designed for select NPCs back in the game. Both were armed, though differently: the shorter, slimmer girl with reddish-brown hair tied into two long side ponytails carried a katana, while the slightly taller, more muscular girl with short blue hair and a single gray-green strand wielded a massive broadsword. Its guard resembled an attempt to fuse a battleaxe into the blade’s hilt… Which just made it look stupid and more dangerous to the wielder.

But Momonga have seen weirder.

Momonga briefly considered inspecting their weapons, perhaps he might be lucky enough that he’d stumbled upon another powerful artifact just because. However, though the blades faintly radiated holy energy, they didn’t seem extraordinary. 

Drawing comparisons, if [Excalibur Ruler] was akin to a [Legendary]-class item, then [Excalibur Mimic] and [Excalibur Destruction] fell only into the [Relic] class. Still impressive, in niche scenarios, or if a high-level Player was unlucky enough to lack sufficient [Legendary]-class gear, such relics might even find use for a level 100 Player. But most would prioritize aesthetics over stats, given how common such items were. 

Salvaging them for raw materials and [Data Crystals] was a practical solution to inventory bloat, though Momonga, ever the miser, would never do so. There’s a reason why the Great Tomb of Nazarick’s treasury could hoard endless relics. 

But, for solo players or guilds without proper bases, [Relic]-class items were often scrapped. The two [Excalibur Fragments], were Junk Items technically speaking.

Demiurge, meanwhile, turned to the unconscious bodies on the ground, his smile twisting slightly before he barked out a command. 

“[Rise!]”

The knocked out figures; Fallen Angels, Exorcists, even a young nun that Momonga hadn’t noticed earlier, jolted upright. The sight of the nun, who looked childlike, sparked a pang of guilt in Momonga. Making her stand in attention before him felt wrong.

In his old world ruled by megacorporations, children are expendable, their lives barely distinct from the adults’ save for them having fewer job and housing opportunities. While in Yggdrasil, child avatars often hid formidable foes, including [World Enemies], so Momonga had never developed any special care for them. 

Especially when the cuter they are, the more dangerous they would turn out to be, those damned Developers acting like Tabula with their obsession with Gap Moe in this specific case.

Yet in this new world, after caring for Aura and Mare – actual children, rather than how he sees the other NPCs as his Guild Mates’ children, had shifted his perspective. Projecting their innocence onto this nun, he hesitated to force her to kneel.

Of course, he would have had no hesitation in killing her if the need arose, Nazarick was still his number one priority. However, until that moment, Momonga saw no reason to force her to kneel.

Demiurge, likely reading something in Momonga’s gaze toward the girl, abruptly declared, "[Asia Argento is free from control.]"

A moment later, the young nun, apparently named Asia, who had initially kneeled alongside the other girls under Demiurge’s influence, fell down, sprawling out on the floor, her limbs trembling violently. The others around her, still under Demiurge’s control, remained frozen in place.

“Xenovia, use…” The exorcist, the one with the ponytail, spoke out, Demiurge haven’t [Ordered] them not to speak. She was likely addressing her blue-haired companion, before she was interrupted. 

"[Silence. Do not resist. Do nothing. Kneel.]"

Another moment passed, and everyone present except Demiurge, Momonga, and Asia dropped to their knees. Xenovia and two of the Fallen Angels on one knee, while the other Exorcist had kneeled on both, while Raynare had even folded herself into a dogeza.

“Hmm. So their compliance depends on their understanding of the orders?” Momonga remarked distantly, observing the scene before realizing he was in front of an audience, not conducting a detached experiment. 

He turned to Demiurge before giving his own order. “Enough. I don’t think… ahem…”

Momonga strained his limited roleplay experience and the knowledge he’d gleaned from studying this world’s god, the one that he was disguising himself as. 

Summoning every shred of acting talent, he continued, “I believe mercy should be shown to all. They’ve yet to commit any shameful acts, Demiurge. Raynare and…”

He faltered briefly, forgetting the names of the other Fallen Angels, the one that is supposed to be Raynare’s subordinates, before pressing on. Hopefully, his faux pas wouldn’t be noted on. 

“… The other Fallen Angels of this church have followed their instructions dutifully. Minor mistakes are forgivable. I demand no idolatry, only service—and so long as they serve faithfully, small errors are pardonable. As for the girls…” Momonga suddenly noticed that everyone present besides himself and Demiurge were women but chose not to dwell on it. 

“… I understand their wariness, my sudden appearance was undeniably shocking. Demiurge, I ask you to release them from your influence—for my sake.”

There, perfect!

“Lord Momonga, I beg forgiveness for your unworthy servant’s failure to discern your plans and my audacity to oppose them!” Demiurge bowed so perfectly and deeply it almost looked like Demiurge’s own powers were compelling him, his face nearly touching the floor. 

"[All are free.]"

Another moment passed, and the Fallen Angels swayed as they stood up, while the two exorcist girls steadied themselves, staring at Momonga and Demiurge without drawing their blades. Instead, they deliberately moved their hands away from them, either as a gesture of goodwill or a concession to their helplessness after Demiurge’s display.

Meanwhile, Momonga glanced toward a large chair atop a nearby dais, draped in red silk and adorned with intricate carvings he couldn’t fully discern from this distance. Reasoning it must be his throne, or at least he’d hoped so or it would be very embarrassing, he strode toward it, mentally compiling every scrap of intel he possessed to prepare for negotiations. 

Settling into the seat, he glanced at the assembled subordinates and emissaries before him as if he’d done so countless times.

Crossing his legs and resting his hands on the armrests, he lifted one arm to his chin in a pose that blends the image of a ‘sinister genius’ and ‘self-assured conqueror’. Forcibly adjusting his expression to mirror the cold authority he’d seen in the Boss Monsters in Yggdrasil. 

He thanked his face's unchanging facade for hiding his true nerves, before speaking in his deepest voice.

“I am listening. What did you intend to convey by appearing before me?”

Nailed it!

***

Xenovia had always perceived the phrase ‘the Lord’s Wrath’ as a metaphor for events of unimaginable scale and cruelty. Something so cataclysmic that only an enraged God could unleash it.

But when the Lord had appeared, she felt His true wrath not as a metaphor, not as a description, and Xenovia had found that her imagination was very lacking.

It was a Primordial fear, the kind no magic, strength, technology, or resource could erase from humanity, and it had gripped her. Terror in the face of an indescribable power that had gained self-awareness and emotion — and that emotion was rage.

It was as if the very oceans were boiled with magma, a mountain of bones so high it reached the clouds split with jagged teeth, and the sky had crashed onto the earth. A calamity that effortlessly crushed all the life of past and future humans. 

Death itself stood before her, announcing that her end had come — not because her life had ended, but out of pure hatred for Xenovia.

The wrath, so overwhelming that no training could shield her mind, reduced Xenovia to only her primal instincts. It devoured her memories, skills, and abilities, leaving her trembling, alone, and insignificant before the divine fury.

Oblivion nearly claimed her, her mind so overwrought with fear that it chose death to escape it, until a command pierced her fading consciousness. It overrode even her lizard brain, forcing her body to rise and kneel even as her thinking mind sputtered and almost grinded to a halt, killing her. 

Xenovia became painfully aware of the stifling rage, and she no longer had the privilege of unconsciousness to shield her. She was afraid out of her mind, and yet she was forced to be sane by the command. It was a very unique kind of torture, as she was not allowed to lose her mind.

Xenovia feared how long she could last under that condition, before, a moment later, the Lord’s wrath vanished… and the agonizing order was recanted.

The Lord had spoken.

Perhaps Irina would argue, or the holy fathers, or even Xenovia’s adoptive mother, Griselda, could challenge her perspective, but the Lord’s wrath had made her feel so helpless — a sinner of Sodom witnessing celestial fury. When it faded, she felt His mercy. For the Lord was cruel yet merciful, His grace all-forgiving.

And forgiveness was His decree as the Fallen Angels are serving Him faithfully as He declared, and so He would also pardon the exorcists’ sacrilege. And what a sacrilege the Exorcists had done! 

Drawing blades in His church, daring to point them at Him. 

And yet, for the Lord was merciful, He had absolved then even their most sinful deeds.

“I’m listening. What did you wish to convey by appearing here?” Xenovia trembled, forgetting in her awe that the Lord had walked the Earth, turning the ground beneath Him holy. She raised her gaze… and saw divine mercy. 

His eyes held the patience of a shepherd guiding lost sheep. His posture radiated authority, yet His gaze, scrutinizing yet compassionate, brimming with divine and earthly power, belonged only to the King of Kings, the Alpha, and the Omega.

“Please… let me serve you!” Xenovia fell to her knees again, this time without the power of magic forcing her. Or was it divine power now, as it was used by an ordained demon? 

She clasped her hands in prayer, pleading not to lose this grace.

“Ah… Ahem. Yes, of course. Why not?” The Lord had answered, and Xenovia rejoiced, blessed not only to witness Him firsthand, but to be able to serve under Him.

Another thud echoed beside her — Irina now knelt too, though Xenovia’s eyes remained locked on the Lord. “Me as well, I beg you!”

“Yes, certainly.” The Lord nodded, His gaze shifting between them — is He now passing judgment? But He already knew of their sins. No… It seems that the Lord is waiting.

But for what? Is Xenovia already failing because she could not remember something that she was supposed to do!?

Memories flooded back in Xenovia’s mind. 

The trivial church mission, the original goal of pursuing a demon in Japan. But that demon, the Demiurge, was already forgiven by the Lord, and now Xenovia would serve alongside him under the Creator. Demiurge had spoken of meeting the Lord… and that the Lord wished to decide the church’s fate through them.

But here, Xenovia’s mind paused for a moment — in her understanding, the Church could only rejoice and accept the One True Lord in the most triumphant of marches, bowing beneath the shade of His Mercy. What could Xenovia even speak of in this case?!

If the Lord was all-knowing, perhaps Xenovia was unaware of something critical? Something that prevented this sole possible outcome — the Holy See and Heavenly Host prostrating before the Lord’s visage — from coming to pass?!

Memories of how Irina had refused to acknowledge the Lord in the past forced Xenovia to suddenly bite her lip, could it be true? Could the Church, the creation of His Disciples manifested through the Son, is rejecting the Lord’s mercy?!

Xenovia bit her lip harder, feeling a small trickle of blood run down her lips, who was she to throw stones? She herself hadn’t been able to fully accept the Lord into her heart until she felt His Wrath and His Mercy… But her delusions had been shattered the moment she witnessed how magnificent the Lord was in His glory! 

Could the Church truly refuse the Lord after seeing Him?!

Yet, the Lord was no mere messenger who needed to appear personally in every church, proclaiming His descent onto this sinful Earth. The Church ought to bow before the Lord, as was ordained, but in the end, the Church was merely an organization of flawed, sinful humans on this Earth. The Lord and His manifestation might be perceived… Perhaps, like Irina, they would refuse to welcome Him into their hearts? Or, like Xenovia, drown in doubt?!

No, the Lord must be proclaimed among all nations and all lands as the Savior, but… If the Lord was all-knowing, perhaps He knew that His singular appearance in this world would not bring universal grace, but suffering instead. 

And thus he must remain in the shadows, with the Truth of his second return, perhaps granted only to His most faithful of followers…

‘So?!’ Xenovia suddenly realized and flushed with pride. ‘Does this mean then I am one of the Lord’s most devout followers?! Could I be granted the honor of becoming His new Apostle?!’

Xenovia blushed at her own audacity to presume such a thing, but raising her gaze to the Lord, she saw Him staring at her, his expression and gaze seemingly unchanged. 

‘It’s true!’

She signed the sign of the cross in a prayerful gesture, her Lord’s intent clear now. 

“Of course, my Lord, in the name of Your mercy and goodness, I shall serve You faithfully!”

And the Lord spoke, “Mhm, ahem, yeah…” 

And it was good.

***

Momonga continued to silently observe the two girls before him, and the silence stretched on.

The truth of the matter was… He was completely lost.

After acknowledging the unexpected, or was it anticipated? Proposal from Xenovia and the other girl, what was her name again? To serve him loyally, they fell quiet and kept staring intently at him. Momonga returned their gaze, briefly glancing toward Demiurge for support, but the demon remained silent. 

When Momonga looked back, he noticed Xenovia clasping her hands, likely praying about something.

‘Good lord, this is so awkward!’ His emotion suppression kicked in instantly, redirecting his thoughts. 

‘What if I accidentally say 'god' or reference religion during a conversation? How would I explain that? Maybe claim I’ve spent so much time among humans that their habits rubbed off on me? No… I’m a Supreme Being, a God, far above mortals. I can’t admit something as pedestrian as mere humans are influencing me. Wait, what if I say that I am adopting their speech to make my thoughts more relatable! That sounds perfectly in line with a kind God, right!? Momonga, sometimes you do have clever ideas!’

Yet the uncomfortable silence persisted, and Momonga grew uneasy. No one moved, coughed, or signaled that the pause had overstayed its welcome. Clearly, they are awaiting his next words or actions. 

Drawing on memories of Yggdrasil’s deities and the oath-swearing with the Floor Guardians, he decided to recycle a familiar trick from his short time in this new world:

"Your pledges please me," He intoned gravely. "Yet this is but the first step. Your mission extends far beyond… Demiurge? I trust you’ve discerned our next necessary action."

Internally, Momonga winced. Again, dumping responsibility on his subordinate… But what choice did he have? Demiurge’s nod at least confirmed he’d anticipated this, of course he had a plan. 

Where would Momonga be without him? Probably spouting nonsense, and pretending that they are actually ‘plans’.

Even after resolving the immediate issue, Momonga scanned the room, paranoid he’d overlooked some critical protocol. But with no objections raised, he waited another beat before nodding regally. "This suffices. Wouldn’t you agree, Demiurge?"

"As you say, Lord Momonga. Further discussion is unnecessary under the present circumstances." The demon’s deep bow let Momonga sigh in relief internally. Probably missed an opportunity here… but Demiurge had handled it. As always.

He couldn’t rely on ‘Demiurge surely knows our next move’ forever. Of course, Momonga would review his plans, just in case, taking into account Nazarick’s status… Right after navigating and learning royal etiquette, how to act in his godly persona, and figuring out how to treat this world’s angels.

"Ahem. Then I shall take my leave…" Momonga’s trailing tone invited objections, but none came. 

Rising stiffly from his throne, he coughed and struck a pose reminiscent of an old raid boss. 

"You’ve proven worthy — especially you, Demiurge. Continue your duties. Know that loyalty shall be met with loyalty, mercy with mercy."

Rather than casting [Gate], he teleported away instantly, leaving the church’s occupants trailing behind his wake. That is why he didn’t see what happened next, and really, he was really following the old adage that ignorance is bliss.

***

A collective release of held breath followed after Momonga’s disappearance, even Demiurge’s flawless mask slipped momentarily as he nodded to the room. 

"I believe that all of you understood your mission?" The silent ‘or else’ is very heavily implied.

Suddenly, immediately after Demiurge’s words, Xenovia was the first to nod, followed by Raynare, while the others followed their example with visible uncertainty. To these reactions, Demiurge could only respond with a faint flicker of disappointment, though he made no attempt to equate the lesser beings’ intellect with his own, a gift bestowed upon him by the Supreme Being Ulbert Alain Odle. 

After all, to compare the products of their musings to the genius granted by a Supreme Being was sacrilege in itself.

However, the fact that Lord Momonga had granted him permission to proceed with the next phase of his plan truly demonstrated the peerless intellect of the Overlord. In his timidity, Demiurge had assumed the next stage of Lord Momonga’s magnificent strategy would require two or three more years of preparation. But, as reported by the Shadow Demon, who had returned with Lord Momonga from a small German town, and had shown him his folly. 

The Overlord had, of course, not forgotten the demon’s presence in his shadow during the battle. 

The Shadow Demon had observed the entire conflict and tracked Le Fay’s retreat when Lord Momonga chose not to pursue her. These actions had condensed the initial preparation phase for the next step from years to mere weeks, perhaps even days.

Still, it was particularly intriguing that Lord Momonga had selected two girls, three, if counting Irina Shidou—as his Apostles. 

Yet, judging by his prior interactions with the inhabitants of Nazarick and the outside world, this seemed only natural. After all, if the unworthy old usurpers who dared call themselves gods were known for their demigod offspring, how fitting it would be for Lord Momonga to spawn a hundred divine bloodlines as heirs who would raise the banner of His Kingdom after the Apocalypse…

Though, Demiurge found it somewhat unusual to witness even Irina marked by Lord Momonga’s grace. Seeing as it was clear to Demiurge that Irina was no True believer, he could easily see the traitorous intent, badly hidden by the Exorcist.

But as he reasoned, the world required Hell to punish sinners, just as it needed an Antichrist to unite all enemy forces, only to be cast into the abyss before His Ascension. Thus, it was only natural that even Judas must still play his destined role.