章 6: Pledge Of Allegiance
[ Capitano POV ]
As I stepped through the portal, my body warped in strange, surreal ways. Twisting, stretching, and bending as if being pulled apart, I felt my essence reshaped and seamlessly reassembled somewhere else. Oddly enough, the sensation was painless—almost fascinating. It was as though I had been spun through the very fabric of space itself. Though I wasn't exactly a scholar, I couldn't help but marvel. It felt like magic in its purest, most mind-bending form.
When I emerged on the other side, I was greeted by a chaotic scene: Momonga, the skeletal overlord clad in his regal robes, stood at the center of the fray alongside the Dark Elf twins, Aura and Mare. They were locked in combat with a raging fire elemental, their movements precise and coordinated. Despite the elemental's ferocity, it was clear the three had the upper hand. Even so, the creature stubbornly clung to its resistance, thrashing and roaring as it began to falter.
Time to end this.
I stepped forward, drawing my blade in one smooth motion. Frost trailed in its wake as I dashed toward the elemental, closing the distance in a heartbeat. With a single, decisive strike, I cleaved the fiery creature in two. Its severed halves flickered briefly, trails of frost winding through the flames, before dissolving into a cloud of fading embers.
Sheathing my blade, I turned to face the others. Aura's golden eyes sparkled with excitement as she bounded forward.
"Whoa! Capitano, that was amazing!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. "You just… you took it out in one hit!" Her grin widened, brimming with admiration.
Beside her, Mare clutched his staff nervously, his cheeks faintly flushed. "Y-yes… you make it look so effortless," he stammered, his voice timid but sincere. He glanced down briefly, only to lift his gaze again with newfound determination.
Softening my stance, I addressed them both. "Remember, in battle, hesitation can be deadly. When you have the chance, do not prolong the fight. Aim to end it decisively. It will conserve your strength and minimize risk."
Aura nodded eagerly, her expression fierce. "Got it! Next time, I won't hold back." She nudged Mare with her elbow, smirking. "Hear that, Mare? No more playing around."
Mare looked away bashfully, gripping his staff tighter. After a moment, he nodded. "R-right. I'll… I'll do my best to finish quickly." His voice carried a trace of resolve, as though my words had lit a fire within him.
From the shadows, I noticed Shalltear observing quietly. Her crimson eyes followed my movements with an unusual calm. Gone was her usual flirtatious demeanor; in its place was a quiet respect. A faint smile tugged at her lips, and I couldn't help but feel that my actions—and my guidance—had pleased her.
Mentoring these two might not be so bad after all.
Shifting my gaze, I caught Momonga watching as well. Though his expression remained impassive—his skeletal visage betraying no emotion—I wondered if he felt even a flicker of approval.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, drawing my attention. Turning, I saw Cocytus approaching. His massive, insectoid frame gleamed with frost, and a cold aura trailed behind him, leaving icy tendrils in the air.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, friend," he intoned, his voice resonant and deep.
I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "The feeling is mutual." Deciding to lighten the atmosphere, I added, "You look stronger than ever. Have you been training?"
Cocytus's mandibles twitched slightly—a gesture of pride, I imagined. "I have trained every day since our duel, forty-five years ago. Facing a warrior of your caliber was… wondrous."
His words carried a weight of sincerity that flattered me. I chuckled lightly, scratching the back of my helmet. "You certainly look stronger. Perhaps you'll best me next time."
Cocytus nodded solemnly. "Perhaps, one day. But that day… remains distant." With a slight bow, he turned to face Momonga, who had summoned him.
Momonga nodded, his skeletal features unreadable. "You came, Cocytus."
Bowing deeply, Cocytus replied, "I shall always respond immediately to your summons, my lord."
"Good work," Momonga said, his tone carrying a trace of satisfaction.
Before more could be said, the footsteps echoed through the collisuem. Two figures strode in: Demiurge and Albedo. Demiurge's ever-calm smile was firmly in place as he spoke. "My apologies for the delay, everyone."
The rest of us lined up in formation, with me taking my place beside Shalltear as we shared command of the same floor. Albedo, always poised and composed, took center stage.
"Now, everyone," she began, her voice smooth and commanding, "let us pledge our fidelity to the Supreme Leader."
We bowed as one, our voices harmonizing in a unified chant of devotion. When we rose, I noted that Momonga appeared momentarily lost in thought, his gaze drifting upward as if reflecting on something distant. Then he spoke, his voice ringing with authority.
"Raise your heads," he commanded.
We obeyed without hesitation, our eyes fixed on him as he surveyed us. "You all did well to gather here. Thank you."
A ripple of joy swept through the room at his praise. Aura and Mare beamed, while Albedo, ever-devoted, stepped forward.
"Your thanks are unnecessary, my lord," she said fervently. "We exist to serve you. Though we may seem lacking, we vow to work tirelessly to meet the expectations of the Supreme Beings who created us."
The rest of us echoed her pledge, our voices steady and strong. "We vow this to you!"
For a brief moment, Momonga seemed to study us, his bony jaw creaking open as he spread his arms. "Wonderful, Floor Guardians! I am confident that each of you will fulfill your duties without fail."
A chorus of grateful responses followed. Even I, typically reserved, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in my chest at his words.
"Now then," Momonga continued, his tone shifting, "the Great Tomb of Nazarick finds itself in an unknown situation. I have already sent Sebas to survey the surroundings."
As his words trailed off, Sebas stepped forward, his dignified posture exuding calm authority. Straightening, he prepared to deliver his report.
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As Sebas began speaking, a steady stream of detailed information poured from his mouth—everything from minute observations to the broader implications of our current situation. His meticulous report was thorough, as always, and would undoubtedly aid in formulating a strategy. Still, I already had a sense of the general approach they would likely choose. Deciding it was best to stay silent unless directly addressed, I stood quietly, maintaining an air of honour and loyalty befitting a knight. They believed me to be a dutiful servant of Nazarick, and I intended to keep it that way.
Sebas continued, speculating on the possibilities surrounding Nazarick's displacement. Momonga listened intently, nodding occasionally, as if to show he valued Sebas's insights. Though his skeletal visage betrayed no expression, I couldn't help but suspect he was doing this partly to impress us—the NPCs who now saw him as a supreme leader. It was... almost endearing. Despite his role as an Overlord, he still carried traces of his former self. Watching him, I couldn't shake the thought that he saw this as some strange office meeting, only now with skeletal fingers tapping the metaphorical desk instead of a pen.
Eventually, Sebas finished, bowing slightly as he awaited Momonga's response.
"Grasslands?" Momonga repeated, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Yes, Lord Momonga," Sebas replied, his tone unwaveringly respectful. "Completely different from the swamps that once surrounded the Great Tomb of Nazarick. I couldn't find a single structure, human, or monster within a one-kilometre radius."
Momonga tilted his head slightly, the eerie stillness of his skeletal form adding an air of gravitas. "Good work, Sebas. It seems Nazarick has indeed been transported to an unknown land for reasons yet unknown."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the theatricality of it all. I understood why he was acting this way—upholding the image of a powerful, wise ruler. Still, I couldn't help but picture him as a flustered salaryman, thrust into this bizarre world by some cosmic joke, clinging to his new role with grim determination. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: perhaps I should ask him to manage my finances if I ever needed funds as an adventurer in this strange land.
Returning to his commanding tone, Momonga addressed the two guardians nearest him. "Floor Guardian leader, Albedo, and Defensive leader, Demiurge."
Both straightened immediately, responding in perfect unison. "Yes, Lord Momonga!"
"Create a stronger system for sharing information and fortify our defences," he ordered, his voice carrying a confidence that made him look every inch the ruler they believed him to be.
"Yes!" we all replied, lifting our heads to meet the gaze of the Supreme Being.
Momonga turned his attention to one of the Dark Elf twins. "Mare, is there a way to conceal the Great Tomb of Nazarick?"
Mare fidgeted nervously, his hands gripping his staff as he stammered, "I-It would be difficult with just magic. But… if we covered the walls with dirt and concealed ourselves with vegetation…"
Albedo's expression twisted into one of utter disdain as she interjected sharply, "You would smear the glorious walls of Nazarick with dirt?"
Momonga's tone turned stern, silencing her. "Albedo, do not make unnecessary remarks."
Realizing her overstep, Albedo quickly lowered her head, her voice contrite. "Yes. My deepest apologies, Lord Momonga."
Momonga's focus shifted back to Mare. "Would it be possible to conceal Nazarick in this way?"
Mare nodded hesitantly. "Y-Yes, my lord. As long as you allow it, we can begin right away. But…"
He hesitated, his voice faltering as if fearing disapproval.
Momonga released a thoughtful "Hm…" before turning to Sebas. "Were there any hills in the area?"
"No, unfortunately," Sebas replied. "The surrounding terrain is completely flat."
"I see," Momonga murmured, tapping his bony fingers against the air in thought. "Then, what if we created dummy hills around Nazarick?"
Sebas considered this for a moment, then nodded. "That approach could help us blend into the surroundings effectively."
Momonga straightened, his decision made. "Very well. Let us proceed with that plan. Mare, create the hills and conceal the open areas with illusions wherever possible."
Mare's voice was soft but resolute. "Y-Yes, Lord Momonga. I'll see to it."
Momonga's tone shifted suddenly, colder and filled with intrigue, as he turned his gaze toward the assembled guardians. "And finally, I want to ask each Floor Guardian something."
A hush fell over the hall. He turned his hollow eyes toward Shalltear. "Shalltear, what kind of person am I to you?"
The question sent a ripple of tension through the room. As Shalltear pondered her response, I straightened instinctively, feeling the weight of Momonga's scrutiny even though his attention wasn't yet on me. A chill ran down my spine as I realized I, too, would have to answer.
What kind of person is he to me?
Inside my helmet, my teeth clenched. I had to present unwavering loyalty, but how could I sound convincing without fully understanding my own backstory? Fragments of vague memories stirred, yet nothing concrete emerged—only the knowledge that I had to maintain this façade. The others seemed so certain of their place, their devotion unwavering. Meanwhile, I stood grasping at scraps, improvising my very identity with every word I spoke.
Why couldn't I have been given more details? Even a single defining trait would have helped. I forced myself to exhale slowly, steeling my nerves. Whatever I said, it had to satisfy him—and the guardians—without raising suspicion.
My mind raced as Shalltear began to speak, her crimson eyes sparkling with devotion. As the others listened, admiration shining in their expressions, I allowed myself a brief moment to observe them. They were utterly certain of their purpose, their roles in this grand scheme. Yet here I was, a knight without a true past, preparing to piece together a life with words I barely believed myself.
Whatever happens, I thought, tightening my grip on my sword's hilt. I'll make sure they hear what they want to hear.
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A/N : Well that's that chapter done, I'm starting to wonder how our boy Capitano is going to glaze the Bone Daddy Momonga himself. Oh well, we'll eventually find out in the next episode of Capitano's Adventuring Chronicle.
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