章 12: The Conquest of the Great Tomb of Nazarick - 3
'Shit!' Momonga cursed in his head, following Ulbert's explosive expletive.
After the other parties defeated their respective bosses, they were transported to an entirely different floor. The scenery was quite breathtaking — a vast and grand verdant glassy field that seemed to stretch on endlessly, with small hills and plateaus adorning the land. It was a bit plain and empty, but still had character. The peaceful and tranquil atmosphere was quickly shattered by the sudden appearance of an endless horde of Undead Walkers that began plaguing the fields upon the guild members' arrival.
The openness of the grass field granted a clear view for the seemingly insurmountable mass of Lvl 60 mobs to shamble towards the guild. It was as if they were appearing without end from the edge of the horizon.
Momonga wouldn't be surprised if the entire floor was covered in them, save for where Ainz Ooal Gown was making their last stand. The guild entrenched themselves in a circle formation, fighting and holding the mobs at bay while covering one another's backs. However, they were losing more and more ground by the second.
He knew that the shitty devs were harsh, but even he didn't think they would go this far and be this unforgiving. Momonga wondered if whoever designed this dungeon was some perverse sadist. Because only a true deviant could think of something so cruel and wretched as to design a dungeon like this for first-time clears.
Momonga knew that their chances of survival were slim against such a large number of enemies. The parties had used up most, if not all, of their main skills and MPs to defeat their respective bosses. This made it even more difficult for them to manage their remaining skills and MP, as they were already running on empty. They were quite literally running on fumes at this point.
They still had plenty of health potions, MP regen potions, and the like, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was the fact that they were perhaps several minutes away from being flooded from head to toe by the low-level mobs. It'll eventually reach a point where they'll be out of MP, skills, and everything completely. By then, they'll be completely and utterly overwhelmed by the mobs. No matter how weak or easy they were to kill, notwithstanding.
It wasn't a matter if they could survive, but rather for how long they could hold back the hordes.
Oh, how he wanted to scream and curse out those shitty devs. But there were more important matters at the moment than his burning hatred for the developers.
Namely, the fact that due to his slight negligence from the numerous multitasking, and stress of the situation and the heat of the battle, he had accidentally enabled "party-wide" on [Message]. This mistake led to everyone in the party hearing Shirou's extremely alarming news, creating a state of chaos and confusion.
The same very members who were now screaming, yelling, reporting, and panicking.
And thus, he sowed the seeds of pandemonium.
"[A Timed Boss?!]"
"[Fucking shitty devs!]"
"[They're breaking through the left flank!]"
"[There's no way they can beat the boss in time!]"
"[Shit, my MP is down to 8%!]"
"[Damn it! Fall back, everyone. Fall back!]"
"[Momonga-san, Emiya-san, we can't hold them back for much longer!]"
"[Get back! Keep pushing them back!]"
"[I need another health potion!]"
"[I need some help over here, damn it! Die, you bastards!]"
"[Everyone, focus! Panicking won't do us any favors!]" Shirou tried to calm them down, only for his words to be drowned out by the others.
"[There's no way we can win this, we've lost!]"
"We're losing too much ground!]"
"[I need some help over here, or else they'll break through the right side!]"
"[Damn it, Warrior Takemikazuchi-san, don't push up too far!]"
"[I'm hit!]"
"[Push them back! We've lost too much ground already!]"
"[Do not falter just yet, my friends!]" Touch Me tried to rally.
"[Touch Me-san, watch out!]" Blue Planet called out, his words heard by everyone due to the party-wide [Message] and the following explosion from the other side.
"[What do we do, Momonga-san?!]"
"[Don't lose focus! Stand your ground!]"
"[Everyone, get back!]" Bukubukuchagama called out.
"[You damn son of a bitch!]" Peroroncino followed up.
"[Excuse me?!]" Said the sister, misinterpreting his words towards her.
"[Not you, sis! I meant the boss!]" Peroroncino was quick to clarify and apologize.
The [Message] connection was flooded with a multitude of reports, statements, exclamations, and almost random callouts, all coming from different directions. Every single one of the twenty-nine members of Ainz Ooal Gown was speaking, or rather, screaming all at once. The chaos of their voices was so intense that it was hard to make sense of anything.
[Message] works very similar to how telepathy would, in theory, have their voice carried directly into the Player's mind, allowing for precise and clear communication between two sources.
Momonga could hear everything with perfect clarity. The exclamations and cries of his friends echoed within his very head, like a tempestuous storm, as the voiceless pleas within the shouts of his friends swirled within his mind. A wild cacophony of sound, yet he was able to distinguish and identify each member of Ainz Ooal Gown.
The raw and unfettered emotion of every one of his friends was on full display. Fear. Regret. Anger. Paranoia. Frustration. Guilt. Sorrow. Shame. Helplessness.
A swirling maelstrom of negative emotion.
It was suffocating!
All around him, he saw his guildmates and friends fighting and struggling against the overwhelming force of undead mobs. Their bodies clashed against the never-ending horde, only to be forced to push back. They were fighting a losing battle. The sheer number of enemies they faced seemed to be too much for them to handle. Despite their efforts to push back, they were slowly but surely losing ground. Every move they made was met with fierce resistance, and the odds of victory seemed to be slipping away with each passing moment.
It was all overwhelming!
"[We still have a chance!]" Shirou's voice cut through the sea of chatter, silencing the storm of screams for only a second. "[The boss may be a Timed Boss, but it isn't invincible! It can still be damaged! There's still a chance.]"
"[But it's practically invincible!]" Punitive Moe cried out.
"[That's right, it's almost invincible, but it isn't completely invulnerable! We can still hurt it, and with enough damage, we can reach its true health bar. We still have one last chance at taking it down once and for all!]" Shirou countered.
Momonga could feel his unwavering friend's gaze upon him, even though he couldn't see his face. It felt as though the intense stare was encompassing them all, just like it had done in the past. Shirou's unyielding spirit and unwavering willpower were evident, as he refused to give up even a single inch. No matter how dire the situation seemed, he remained steadfast in his determination to see it through.
Momonga couldn't help but admire and envy his friend's unshakeable spirit and tenacity.
"[I've got an idea; one last shot at it. And if it works, we can win this!]" Shirou called out to everyone.
His declaration was met with an equal amount of support as skepticism. The guild was split between believing in Shirou and calling it out as complete nonsense.
"[It's impossible!]"
"[Better than nothing.]"
"[They're pushing through the middle!]"
"[Damn it! We don't have time for this, they're surrounding us.]"
"[Another one of your bullshit abilities, Emiya? Well, unless it somehow rewrites the boss's coding and mechanics, we're shit out of luck!]" Ulbert was among the vehement doubters.
"[So what? You want to just quit now? Never took you for a loser that quits when the going got tough goat face.]" Peroroncino mocked.
"[It's called being realistic, bird for brains. I'm starting to think your avatar as a glorified Birdman is starting to make a lot more sense now. Maybe if you stop sucking Emiya off and stop riding his dick, you can use those two minuscule brain cells you have and recognize the situation!]" Ulbert sneered.
"[Fuck you, you goat head chunni! And don't you dare talk shit about Emiya-senpai! At least he's still trying to save all of our asses. The same can't be said for you, you man-child!]" Peroroncino angrily fired back.
Ulbert and Peroronicno quickly devolved into a heated argument, filled with bickering and name-calling. Their voices were raised, and their argument sparked a few to rise amongst them and stoke the flames. The rest continued to fight back against the odds.
Everything was falling apart, Momonga grimly realized. Their morale and unity were scattered into the wind, mere shambles of their once invincible foundation. What was once supposed to unite the guild was now slowly tearing them apart as friends argued and bickered with one another. They wouldn't last, he realized, not with the state of near-complete pandemonium the entire party was in.
His heart ached to see them like that. What drove the knife deeper into him was that Momonga had no idea what to do. He tried speaking up, to restore some semblance of order bring back their unity, but his words were lost in the chaos.
They were too preoccupied with fighting or arguing to listen.
As the world unraveled into disorder around him, his pillars of support and foundation were slowly crumbling all around him, leaving Momonga feeling powerless and adrift. He stood at the center of the turmoil, watching helplessly as what he feared slowly unfolded around him. It was as though he was suspended in time, unable to intervene or make a meaningful difference. Momonga felt a deep sense of despair and hopelessness wash over him. It was the second time in his life that he had experienced such a profound sense of helplessness, and it left him feeling utterly alone in a world that seemed to be falling apart around him.
He couldn't fail now, not when they were so close.
He couldn't afford to fail them, not when victory was in their grasp.
He was their leader, wasn't he? They chose him because they believed he was the best of them. They placed their trust in him because they believed he could lead them.
So then, where was it?
He needed something! Something to rally them once more. But his mind was drawing blanks, as none of the three inspirations had the answer Momonga was desperately seeking.
For his Momonga persona, the cold and analytical persona would call it a lost cause. There was no realistic or foreseeable way that they could escape such an impossible situation, plain and simple. So why bother struggling with the inevitable?
That wasn't acceptable in his mind.
Touch Me may have come across as quite the loud and confident leader, but it was clear that his abilities and intelligence matched his attitude. Being the clan leader of Nine's Own Goal for such a long time was no easy feat, and it was apparent that he had earned the respect of his peers. Even in the face of what seemed to be a hopeless situation, it was likely that he would refuse to give up without a fight. He would probably try to rally his comrades with an inspiring speech, urging them to stand together and face their fate with bravery, to not go quietly into the night.
Admirable in many ways, but not the ending Momonga was seeking.
For Shirou, the question was never "if," but always "how." He had an optimistic spirit, but he was also a realist and knew that any victory would come at a high cost. In this situation, he would have said that the fight was achievable, but only if they could last long enough and if some of their comrades were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. It was a pyrrhic victory, but sometimes that was the only way to survive and keep moving forward.
It was the best and arguably the most realistic option left to Momonga. And yet, it wasn't what he was seeking.
He knew it was a selfish and almost impossible wish. Yet, some part of him still wished for the impossible. For a miracle to happen. But somewhere in his heart, he knew that was impossible.
As the situation deteriorated further and further, he defaulted back to his habit. One of doubt and insecurity.
All that he was left with, was a singular question.
What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?!What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?!What do I do?! What do I do?! What do I do?!What do I do?! WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!WHATDOIDO?!
As he raged within his mind, desperately seeking the answer he desperately sought, the world around Momonga slowly stilled. Time grounded to a complete halt, casting a still image of his friends, the army of undead, and the world around him. Slowly, everything started to fade away, giving way to an endless blank landscape. A barren and white world that stretched endlessly in all directions.
It was only him. Only him, and his failures.
Alone within the white void.
"What do I have to do?! I can't fail them—not now, not when they need me the most! Think, you worthless idiot!"
He screamed and chastised, his cries echoing into the white void, his desperate plea for an answer reverberating within the empty world.
Shirou's words came back to him at that moment.
"Have faith…" The voice of Shirou echoed in his head.
Have faith, he said...
A dark memory resurfaced from the recesses of his mind. A terrible memory he struggled to put behind him.
A dark whisper echoed through the empty world.
"And when has faith done any good for us?"
He needed something. An answer, an idea, something—anything that was tangible. Like a man drowning in the ocean, he needed a lifeline. Something to hold onto, even if it was only an illusion.
"But is faith even enough? And if it's not, then how will we know!?"
It was impossible to rely solely on faith. For how many have found themselves in a situation not too similar to his own? What of the millions of salarymen, office workers, and those oppressed by the Japanese corporate-control conglomerate that made their lives a living hell? Were their faith and prayers for a better life ever answered?
If the answer was no, then how would it be any different for him?
"We don't." Another voice answered. This time, it wasn't Shirou's.
No, it was his voice.
"We don't know, and perhaps we never could know. But isn't that why faith exists? For better or for worse. All we can do is believe." He heard a voice behind him.
Turning, Momonga came face-to-face with himself. Not that of his online persona, but the man behind the avatar, Satoru Suzuki.
His inner consciousness held a saddened but understanding expression.
"In a way, we still haven't grown up since then. We're still that small, frightened little boy that was afraid of letting go." Satoru Suzuki said.
The blank background shifted, forming a still scene in front of him.
The crimson orbs within Momonga's eye sockets brightened, comparable to the surprise and widening of one's eyes.
He recognized the scene in front of him. How could he not? For it was the nightmare that haunted him ever since he was a boy.
...No…
In the middle of the living room, a small boy no older than six years old was sitting on the floor, his head resting against a worn-out couch. The room was small and cramped, but it was still home. The boy was completely lost in the book he was reading, his eyes fixed on the pages. Through a small doorway in front of him, it leads to an adjacent kitchen. There, a woman had her back turned to him, seemingly busy with something. Had the boy paid closer attention, he would have noticed the slight swaying of her body, but the young child seemed to be completely oblivious to it.
…Don't…
So immersed in the book was he that he did not notice her body swaying and eventually tipping, leading her to fall over. The plate in her hand fell to the ground with a loud crack, shattering into pieces. The sound finally snapped the boy out of his immersion, his head looking up towards the source. There was clear confusion in his eyes, and his mind was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then came the realization, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. Finally, the terror settled in. He jumped into action, the book was thrown away and forgotten as he rushed forward. A scream left his lips, and although no sound was made, Momonga completely understood the boy's cry.
Okaa-san... Mother...
...Please don't...
The boy rushed to his mother's side, his face etched with panic and fear. He gently shook her, trying to ask what was wrong. He turned her body to face him and saw that her face had an almost unhealthy pale tone. Her features were marred by wrinkled and stressed lines, and her once tame brunette hair was now lined with graying strands. Ragged breaths escaped her lips, and her eyes struggled to focus. The weariness and fatigue on her face were evident, and tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes as he desperately continued to call out her name.
...Make it stop...
The light in her eyes was faint, but it was still there. With trembling hands, she reached out and gently cupped her son's cheek. A small smile managed to break through his scared visage, and he saw her finally respond. She was going to be fine, he told himself. This wasn't the first time she had collapsed. She experienced a few over the past few years, but she always managed to get back up. He believed it wouldn't be any different from before. But the look in his mother's eyes told a different story—a knowing glint. Her own eyes were wet with tears as they trailed down her cheeks. She knew what was coming, and that terrified her.
She was afraid, but not for her.
She was afraid for him, her precious baby boy.
...No more…
The boy was confused. Why was his mother crying? She was going to be alright. She was going to get right back up, just like before. The boy had faith in his mother. His smile strained as he called out her name once more. Her lips parted, and she forced out two words.
I'm sorry...
The boy was confused. Why was his mother saying I'm sorry? What was she apologizing for? If anything, he should be the one apologizing. He spoke, assuring her that everything would be fine and dandy. This only caused her to pain visibly. Her tears flowed forth like a broken dam. This terrified the boy, and a part of him realized what was happening. Soon, his tears fell from his cheeks, joining hers.
...I've seen enough...
Unable to contain it anymore, the boy wept, all the while calling out for his mother. For her, she gently caresses his cheek in an attempt to soothe his plight. Pulling the last ounce of her strength, she smiled, a beautiful and loving smile. Love and affection shone in her eyes, ones that only a mother could possess for their own precious and beloved child. With the last of her strength, she uttered three words. Her final three words.
I love you.
...I don't want to see it anymore...
With those parting words, she knew no more. Her hand dropped to the floor, its strength was no more. The light in her eyes dimmed and darkened until all that remained was a dead, empty stare. There was nothing but complete and utter silence. The boy's mind was unable to properly recognize the reality in front of him. He gently shook her, believing maybe she was too tired and passed out, but she remained unresponsive. Seconds passed before he finally accepted the truth. And when he did, he cried and cried, and cried. He realized the truth.
She was no longer of this world.
...I beg you, stop…
He cried, screamed, and raged. Screaming and calling out to her. Mother, mother, he chokingly repeated. His voice was garbled and heavy with raw emotions. He sobbed, begging her to wake up. Tears would not stop running down his face, snot flowing freely from his nose. The combined secretion dirtied his face, but the boy didn't care. He screamed for her until his throat was raw and burning, and even then he didn't give up. All that mattered to him right now was trying to wake her up.
...I can't take it anymore, please...
Eventually, his screaming caught the attention of the other tenants and neighbors. Upon hearing the racket, they demanded silence, only to come upon the sight of a small boy holding onto the deceased body of his mother. A call was made, and the next thing the boy knew, strangers entered their homes, trying to separate the two.
...No more... NO MORE...
The boy struggled against his captors, screaming, yelling, and biting with all the strength and ferocity that his small body would allow. All the while completely ignoring and disregarding the adults trying to calm him down. His eyes left his mother's body as a pair of workers brought in a body bag.
...Go away! Make it go away...!
They managed to pin him, all the while another worker was working hastily to select the right sedative for the boy. Seeing the strangers picking up his mother's corpse and carefully putting it into the body bag, the boy felt as if the world around him was choking him. He felt so weak, and insignificant. So... afraid. He couldn't do anything as they slowly zipped up the bag.
Please!
The boy felt something pricked his arm, a needle with some odd green liquid inside it. Immediately, he felt lightheaded. The strength in his limbs faded, and his eyes suddenly became tired and heavy.
Make it stop!
All he could do was hazily watch as the strangers continued their work. He also couldn't understand a single word around him, their voices were completely muffled and indistinguishable. They finally finished zipping up the body bag, and with the help of two of them, they picked it up and dragged it out of the room.
MAKE IT STOP!
The boy watched it all. He understood what was happening despite the sedatives pumping through his veins. Yet his body would not respond. He wanted to scream, to attack, to cry, to do something—anything, but his body would not obey him. His mind was active, but his body was not. A prisoner within his own body.
MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!
The last thing the boy saw before darkness took him was them leaving with the body of his mother. And then, no more. Nothing but the lost gaze of his mother, failure, staring him right in the face.
"Make it stop!" His cry of utter anguish echoed across the empty horizon.
Gone was the dignified and powerful form of Momonga, replaced by a small, crying boy. The very same boy who watched his mother leave this world.
That child was none other than Satoru Suzuki himself.
As he revisited that painful memory, Momonga's emotional fortitude finally crumbled. It was the most dismal moment of his existence, and for the first time in his life, he felt completely powerless and abandoned. Overcome with despair, he fell to his knees, his arms shaking as he tried to shield himself from the world. His tears flowed endlessly, punctuating the emptiness around him with the sounds of his sobs and sniffles.
"I-I'm... afraid…" Momonga whimpered. His voice reverted to that of a child as well. It sounded so frail, so frightened.
So... afraid.
When it boils down to it, Momonga was simply afraid. He was afraid of being left alone once more. The world moved on from his mother's death, but he didn't. He couldn't... To many, it was a regular occurrence, for she was not the first causality suffered due to overworking, nor would she be the last. But for Satoru Suzuki, it was no different from the end of the world.
The loss of his mother at such an age scarred him and was a defining moment that would shape his future. The world wasn't kind to him and granted him no reprieve to grieve for her. He was forced to move on, or else. Momonga tried to move forward, but he never truly grew out of it. For he was never given the time to. The trauma bore deep psychological scars within him. A wound that could never close.
From that day on, Momonga—Satoru Suzuki considered himself truly alone in the world. And he would continue to be alone well into his adult years, be it in the real world or the digital one.
By some stroke of luck or an act of destiny, he met Shirou on that fateful day. The day when he was at his lowest point, a day that marked the anniversary of his mother's passing. Just like every year prior, he tried to push through the inauspicious day by burying the pain and diverting his attention away from it. In an attempt to distract himself, he turned to YGGDRASIL, only to find himself relentlessly pursued and killed time and time again. Not even in his moment of his reprieve was he allowed any peace. He had almost lost all hope, but as luck would have it, fate intervened and bestowed upon him a boon.
On that fateful day, Momonga befriended his first and true companion in life - Shirou. Were it not for his intervention, Momonga would have likely abandoned his virtual existence in YGGDRASIL, seeking other entertainment to distract himself. And through him, he was fortunate enough to encounter so many wonderful people whom he was honored to call friends. Touch Me, Peroroncino, Bukubukuchagma, Tabula, and many others. Momonga discovered that there were others like him, those who were ostracized and isolated in their own way. Over time, he came to consider them not just friends, but family - a sense of belonging that he had yearned for since time immemorial.
It was this form in which his deepest fears manifested. Momonga was terrified of losing his newfound family, just as Satoru Suzuki had lost his mother. He feared that they would depart from him for various reasons, leaving him bereft, much like how his mother's untimely demise had left him alone. He bore the weight of responsibility for their potential departure, a thought that haunted him constantly.
Even after all this time, a small, dark part of him blames himself for the death of his mother. Yes, she died due to strenuous and downright atrocious working conditions, but, it was for him that she literally worked herself to death for. His hardworking mother worked tirelessly, days in and days out, to provide for him. Because she loved him, her child. His only true family in the entire world.
And he killed her.
He was afraid that he would be the reason once more for the destruction of his new 'family.' That they would leave him just like she did.
Not again.
The thought alone was a nauseating one. He couldn't afford to be alone again. Not after finally basking in the light after years of living within the darkness.
Momonga continued to sob and snivel, the sound of his whimper echoing softly within the white abyss of his mind. His small form tried to curl in on itself, as if to try and make itself as small as possible; an attempt to avoid it all.
His inner consciousness looked down on the crying child, not out of scorn nor pity but merely a silent understanding.
"You are… afraid." The image of Satoru Suzuki finally spoke. "You say that as if it's something to be ashamed of. As if being afraid somehow makes you less than what or even who you truly are. But that's not true, it only proves that you are you." His consciousness softly spoke.
Momonga showed no sign of hearing his words.
"Let me ask you this, can you honestly say that every one of them could and would leave us? Peroroncino-san? Bukubukuchagama-san, Warrior Takemikazuchi-san? What about Ulbert-san? Maybe Tabula-san? Hell, even Touch Me-san?" He listed off.
The soft cries petered off, and the young form of Momonga tentatively looked at his inner consciousness.
Momonga didn't answer immediately, his indecision clouding his thoughts, for he truly did not know if they were capable of such acts. And he hated himself for that, doubting them, but he couldn't help it. Depending on the situation and circumstances, he could see them leaving for one reason or another.
"What about Shirou? Do you truly, truly believe someone like him would leave out of nowhere or suddenly?" His inner consciousness patiently questioned. It didn't go unnoticed by Momonga that he—they?—referred to Shirou by his first name. A name he would only use amongst the most private of conversations.
No.
The answer was immediate. Even before he properly processed the question and formulated a response, Momonga knew what the answer would be.
"There it is." The salaryman pointed towards the boy. "That unwavering loyalty and belief in him. That no matter the good or the bad, he will always be there for you. That is true faith."
"So tell me then…" Satoru Suzuki continued. "Why is it that you trust Shirou explicitly yet hesitate when it comes to the others? Despite the numerous instances and shreds of evidence that prove otherwise? We, as a clan and now a guild, have always been there for each other through thick and thin. But why do you lack confidence in them, despite their years of loyalty towards you and you to them?
His conscious didn't even wait for a response before continuing.
"It is because, in truth, you do not have as much faith in them as you would believe." He revealed.
"I do trust them." Momonga hotly answered back, somewhat offended that his mind was saying otherwise.
"That's right. You trust them, but you don't have trust in them."
"Huh?" Momonga blinked at the rather paradoxical statement.
"Answer me this: why is it that you trust Shirou above all else? Why him and him alone?" His inner consciousness asked.
As the question was posed, he found himself mentally repeating it over and over again. He had the answer, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it. It wasn't that he didn't care or that he hadn't put any thought into it; he just felt that the question itself was unnecessary. For he knew the answer instinctively, even if he didn't voice it.
A better question to ask was, why wouldn't he trust Shirou?
He was everything one could ever hope for in a friend. Kindhearted. Gentle. Virtuous. Supportive. Wise. Intuitive. Powerful. Understanding. Selfless. Etcetera…
Shirou was truly a kind-hearted and selfless individual. Their first meeting was unexpectedly fortunate for Momonga, as Shirou saved him without any expectation of reward. Despite being a low-level nobody, Shirou saw the value in Momonga as a person and continued to be his friend for years to come. He was always willing to lend a helping hand, whether it be protecting him from harassment or assisting him on missions. Shirou's unwavering loyalty and dedication to their friendship was truly admirable, and Momonga was always grateful for his presence in his life.
Even during the early years of their friendship, Momonga never doubted that Shirou's acts of kindness were anything less than genuine. Never once did he suspect or fear that he would betray him or even randomly PK him out of nowhere. Looking back on it, he wondered where such a feeling of security came from, as any other Heteromorphic Player would be skeptical of a friendly Humanoid Player.
Over many years, their bond steadily strengthened and deepened. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he found himself confiding in his friend about his personal life. While he was cautious about revealing too much or making it too personal, he still shared what he could, and this marked a turning point in their relationship. From that moment on, they became even closer, and he was able to trust his friend with his innermost thoughts and feelings. Whenever he had a problem or a hard day at work, he knew he could always turn to Shirou for support and guidance. To unwind and relax. Shirou was a reliable and compassionate listener, always willing to lend a sympathetic ear and offer his own perspective on things. Momonga felt truly blessed to have such a caring and understanding friend in his life.
Shirou epitomized what it meant to be a true friend.
"And there lies the problem." Said his inner consciousness.
"W-what do you mean?" Momonga looked back up towards the image of Satoru Suzuki.
"We are idealizing him." The inner consciousness answered. "Then again, it's not that hard to see why. Shirou is partially at fault for that as well. Because he just makes it so effortless! He's just so… him! So, kind, caring, honest, and unrelentingly patient. Out of everyone in this entire world we could've befriended, Shirou was easily the best thing to have ever happened to us. He's basically like one of Peroroncino's visual novel protagonists to come to life, an arguably perfect individual with little glaring flaws in his character." The salaryman's shadow chuckled at the comparison.
Satoru Suzuki looked back toward Momonga.
"You still don't get it, do you?" He asked and subsequently sighed.
"Alright, how about this? A hypothetical situation, where our worst fear comes to pass and everyone leaves Ainz Ooal Gown. Touch Me-san, Ulbert-san, Tabula-san, Peroroncino-san, Bukubukuchagama-san, Warrior Takemikazuchi-san, Amanomahitotsu-san, Herohero-san... Everyone just up and leaves. They all leave for one reason or another. Tell me, excluding Shirou's condition, do you think if given the chance he would leave us as well?"
No.
Once again, the answer was immediate.
"Now, why is that?" Satoru Suzuki asked patiently. "Think very carefully about this…"
Momonga pondered the question. He wasn't sure how long it was, be it a few seconds or even hours, as he remained there, thinking until it finally hit him.
The answer came to him because they weren't like Shirou.
"Of course, they're not like Shirou." Satoru Suzuki rolled his eyes. "They're their own people. Just like how Shirou isn't a perv like Peroroncino or how he and Touch Me are similar but still different people. They have their different quirks, their biases, and so forth." He continued as Momonga remained there, reeling from the silent shock.
"In the end, it's as I said, we trust our friends, yet we don't have complete trust in them. Or, at the very least, not as much as we wish it were. We can trust that Peroroncino-san has a penchant for making lewd comments or engaging in inappropriate behaviors, and we can trust that Bukubukuchagama-san will be the one to either admonish him or physically reprimand trust. We can trust Warrior Takemikazuchi-san to be the first one to suggest a dangerous quest simply for the fun of it. Or how we can trust Yamaiko-san to be the mediator whenever a situation arises. We can trust Tabula-san to be the one who follows caution whenever an argument arises within the guild. We trust all of them to act in manners that are befitting their characters and individuality—what we know of them—but when push comes to shove, we do not have trust in them if it ever comes to a point where they'll leave. Because, as you said, they aren't like Shirou. Because for one reason or another, we can see them leaving."
Momonga said nothing, content to stay there, reeling from the revelation.
It—he was right.
Either consciously or subconsciously, he didn't truly believe in his friends as much as they thought he did. And it was that thought that caused his heart to swell with guilt and shame.
Satoru Suzuki, he was nothing more than a simple Japanese salaryman who lived a life of insecurity, weakness, and diffidence. He clung desperately to his friends, seeking any sense of normalcy—anything to distract him from the loneliness that plagued him. To escape this harsh reality, he chose to live behind the mask that was Momonga, finding solace and comfort in this alternate persona.
Growing up in a world that demanded so much from him, Satoru was forced to grow up quickly. However, he never truly experienced the growth he needed. He never had a chance to mature, and years later, he was now an adult. In many ways, he remained the scared little boy who cried out for his mother. He was plagued by his past mistakes and failures, unable to learn from them. Despite his adult body and mind, he remained a child at heart, tired and alone, desperate for friends and a sense of belonging. Ultimately, all he truly longed for was a family to call his own.
He truly was like a child. A child who wishes for everything to be perfect. A perfect world, free of flaws, where his wishes would be true.
And then there was Shirou. He was the first person to ever show Shirou affection and care, and he held onto him tightly. Shirou wasn't just a person to him; he was the ideal individual that he had been searching for all his life. What Momonga wanted more than anything was a friend—someone that he could connect with and who would be there for him. Shirou was that friend, and he had become a part of Momonga's family.
In his eyes, Shirou was on a pedestal that no one else in the guild could compare to.
If one were to use an anecdote:
It would be as if Momonga had been wandering blindly in a dark and dense forest for all his life and had by some chance stumbled across a beautiful and majestic cherry blossom tree. Its splendor enraptured him so much that he failed to see its flaws, blinded by its majesty. So too does he not notice the others within the forest, slowly wilting and wondering why they couldn't all be the same as the one he was admiring.
Unlike the others, it wasn't as if Shirou could simply leave or quit playing the game. He was effectively trapped within YGGDRASIL, which meant Momonga didn't have to worry or fret about him ever moving on or leaving. He would always have his friend by his side, a constant reassurance.
He represented unwavering stability in these tumultuous time and he sought comfort in it. Too much in fact.
It wasn't right or fair, to not only his other guildmates and friends but to Shirou as well. To relegate them as nets to comfort his selfishness.
As the revelation struck him, he collapsed to his knees, unable to truly respond or act. Suddenly, Momonga's form shifted, and he was no longer a boy. Instead, he appeared as an adult in a suit and tie, wearing his salaryman uniform. His face was twisted in distress.
"W-what do I do?" He asked aloud, his voice so distant and lost. Momonga truly did not know what to do.
Rather, what could he do?
No answer came to him this time, neither from his mind nor his inner consciousness. Nothing but a damning silence filled the void.
Neither Momonga nor his inner consciousness dared to utter anything. The silence stretched on, unknown for how long it truly lasted.
Slowly, the world of white around them began to shift. Lines and shapes were slowly coming back into view. Satoru Suzuki glanced around with a troubled look on his face.
"We're running out of time…" He murmured to himself.
Finally, it was his inner consciousness that broke the haunting silence.
The image of Satoru Suzuki took in a heavy breath before heaving a weary sigh.
"We've all made mistakes, after all, that's all a part of being human. But, it is what we do after it that truly matters. Life is far too fleeting to constantly worry about the 'what ifs.' Nothing lasts forever, as they say... and maybe our fears are true." He admitted.
His voice was soft and small.
"One day… that one day our friends… our family will leave us." The fear and resignation was palpable in his voice. His words were no softer than a whisper, but to Momonga, they were numbingly loud and clear.
"…But that day is not here." The mirage of Satoru Suzuki firmly and resolutely countered.
"Not yet, at least. So, stop focusing on the future and focus on the now! If they truly will leave, then treasure every single second of it! Now is not the time for regrets. So, laugh, cry, scream, rage, endure, but do not regret! Never regret the time spent with them. Treasure every moment with them as if they were to be our last, and hold onto them for dear life! There are some things in this cruel world that we cannot ever hope to change, both the good and the bad. Sometimes, all one can do is have faith. But you are right about one thing, we cannot rely on faith alone. If we wish for a miracle, then reach out and seize it with our own two hands! Forge our own path!"
"But how?!" Momonga cried back, his insecurities and self-doubt taking over. "I've done all that I can and think I can, but it's still not enough! Please. I need to do something! What if I fail?!"
"Then fail!" His inner consciousness answered back. Momonga was taken aback by the answer.
Slowly, more and more of the surroundings took form, returning to the landscape and battlefield of the dungeon. Everything was muted, colored white and gray, lifeless. The forms of the rest of Ainz Ooal Gown remained motionless like statues around the two.
Satoru Suzuki reached out and aggressively grabbed Momonga by the scruff of his suit and pulled him in. There, the doppelganger stared him down as Momonga felt his glare bearing down on the helpless salaryman.
"Shirou believes in us. Everyone within Ainz Ooal Gown believes that you have the makings of a great leader! Or have you forgotten what they said when they chose us to be the Guildmaster?! And don't you dare start!" Satoru Suzuki shouted and subsequently silenced Momonga just as he opened his mouth, no doubt to spout more self-deprecating words.
"Before you think of giving up, remember the reason you started fighting in the first place!" Satoru Suzuki challenged him, looking him dead in the eyes. His eyes burned with righteous indignation.
Momonga felt his mind and heart still as the question washed over him. The question repeated itself in his head over and over again.
"Look at them!" He gestured to the frozen guild members of Ainz Ooal Gown, all without breaking eye contact with Momonga. "Each and every one of them knows, and despite your imperfections and shortcomings, they still choose you. They chose to follow you, no matter how crazy of an idea this was. Why? Because they had faith in you! If this is to be a failure, then bear it all! Whether it be now or another hundred others. They will always be there to pick you up. But the question you must ask is this. To whom will you fall as? Momonga the Overlord—the pretender and fraud of a craven or Satoru Suzuki—the coward and cynic behind the façade?! Just who are you?"
With his piece said, the form of Satoru Suzuki let go of Momonga as he collapsed, his legs numb and without strength.
Momonga did not reply. The silence lingered between them, with Satoru Suzuki gazing down at Momonga who seemed lost in thought. They stayed there for an indistinguishable length of time, with Suzuki's eyes fixated on Momonga's face, which was concealed by his hair. His eyes, black as coal, scanned the still pictures of his companions and guild members, giving no hint of his true feelings.
What was he fighting for in the first place? For them, of course. It was always for them.
His friend.
His second family.
If so, then...
Where was the guild leader he promised them, the one they needed and deserved?
Worthless
His friends were still fighting, still struggling against near-impossible odds. They were putting in so much effort, but for what? Because of his selfish wish.
Pathetic
All the while, he wallowed in self-loathing and pity, like a petulant child. And potentially going insane if the fact that he was talking to himself was any indication.
Useless
"I'm… afraid. I'm afraid that I am not good enough. I am afraid that I will fail them, fail them when they need me the most." Momonga spoke with a tremble in his voice.
His shaking fingers dug into the soft, lifeless earth beneath him.
Wretched
"I am afraid that I will be the cause of their departure. That I will lose their respect. Above all, I fear losing them, just like I lost her."
His hand slowly balled into a shaking fist, his emotions running high.
Miserable
"I don't want to be alone." Momonga confessed with all his heart.
He looked down at his shaking fist.
Failure
And yet, despite all his fears, they remained by his side
Even when he presented an absurd and far-fetched idea for a quest, they followed him every step of the way.
The question remains - why?
FAILURE
"Because we trust you…"
A soft voice answered. It wasn't his, no.
It was Shirou.
The shaking and rattling of his fist grew.
…FAILURE…FAILURE…
"Anyone of us could have said no or rejected the idea, but in the end, we all agreed."
That's right…
He still believed in him, they all did.
They all believed in him.
The shaking wouldn't stop.
…FAILURE…FAILURE…FAILURE…
"To follow you, our Guildmaster. No matter how absurd or impossible it seemed. And that hasn't changed."
They hadn't given up on him, not yet.
And yet, here he was practically admitting defeat already.
What kind of leader was that?
Better yet, what kind of friend was he?!
If he couldn't believe in himself to believe in them—
His entire hand and, soon, his arm began to tremble as the shaking persisted.
FAILURE—
"…if you cannot believe in yourself, then believe in us who believe in you…"
Momonga's fist lashed out, striking his cheek with all the force his skinny arm could muster. Pain erupted from his cheek as Momonga winced in surprise at just how powerful his punch was.
—Then perhaps he should start believing in them, who believe in him.
FAIL—
"…To me, there's no difference between Satoru Suzuki and Momonga…"
Again, he swung his fist at the same cheek, putting more force behind it than the first. It was enough to draw blood as it dripped down from inside his mouth, plopping onto the ground and his fist.
Momonga paid it no mind.
FAI—
"…You're my friend, and I am yours, and so are they…"
Momonga stuck himself once more, hitting his cheek with an even greater amount of force than the last two punches, managing a trickle of blood once more as the crimson nectar slowly flowed freely from the self-inflicted injury. If anything, the pain helped to finally clear his head.
Momonga let out wheezes and short gasps for air.
His bloodied hand trembled, but he kept it fisted.
F—
"Rarrghh!" With a roar, he threw one last punch, with all the force and strength he could muster behind this final attack. It connected with little difficulty, and Momonga's head recoiled from the punch.
His cheeks swelled up, leaving his fist and knuckles bloodied. Blood flowed freely from his mouth.
He kneeled on the ground with his body held up by his arms as the blood pooled around him.
Every second, a raspy pant left his throat as Momonga fought to control his breathing once more.
It hurts, but he paid it no mind.
The damned voices finally stopped.
"I'm just afraid of it all." Momonga repeated. He remained knelt, staring down at the small pool of blood, his reflection staring right back at him.
Being weak isn't a sin—
The face that stared back at him was not one that women would swoon upon seeing, nor was it one that others would ridicule behind their backs as ugly or repulsive. The best word to describe it was that he looked average—completely plain. The look of a person not out of place as a background character, one of many faces in a crowd. Momonga stared into his reflection as it did the same to him. A frustrated but firm look stared back at one another.
—Refusing to be better is.
"However—" Punching the pool of blood, Momonga shakingly stood back up. His head was downcast as his entire body trembled and looked ready to tip over any second.
He was a nobody.
Yet...
People believed in him.
All of Ainz Ooal Gown, his previous friends, placed their faith in him. How could he afford to just call it quit? To fail and give up now was to betray that trust. Momonga would sooner chop off his own hand than let that happen on his watch!
"I could, no... I would never live with myself knowing I failed them now when they need me the most. How could I ever face them knowing I was the first to give up?! Not after everything they've done for me. Not after everything we've been through!"
He looked up, finally meeting Satoru Suzuki at long last. Momonga's pupils was dilated, but one could not deny the fire in them. His inner consciousness was soon joined by two others. His child self stood to his inner conscious left, and his Momonga persona stood to his right.
There, his entire life stood right in front of him.
"Who am I...?"
Satoru Suzuki, the frightened boy, forever chained to his past and unable to let go.
Momonga, the masquerade, holding the prospect of a willful future, yet seemingly out of reach.
Who exactly was he?
Satoru Suzuki and Momonga of Ainz Ooal Gown, two sides of the same coin, and neither could exist without the other. He was neither one nor the other, but both, for they embody both the good and the bad. He couldn't deny their faults and flaws, but he also couldn't overlook their aspirations and dreams. The two aspects defined him and made him who he was.
Touch Me and Shirou were larger than life, and they inspired others to do great things. He aspires to become just like them, to follow in their footsteps.
But that did not mean he was chained to them.
He had to the choice, to be something else.
Someone more.
Someone greater.
It was as Shirou said to him.
"…Be your own man, Mononga…"
"I am me!" He proclaimed with unwavering conviction. His voice echoed with a fierce determination that seemed to shake the very air around him. As he thrust his fist forward, a sudden gust of wind spiraled around him, growing in intensity with every passing second. The force of the wind tore through the space, an unstoppable force that left no doubt as to the power of its source.
In that moment, all traces of Momonga the Overlord and Satoru Suzuki the boy vanished, leaving only the raw essence of his inner self. It was as if he had shed his skin and emerged anew, reborn as a force to be reckoned with. The power he felt coursing through his veins was both exhilarating and humbling, a reminder of the limitless potential that lay within him.
As the winds subsided, a calmness settled over him, a sense of peace that came from knowing he was exactly where he was meant to be. In that moment, he understood that he was the master of his own destiny, and that nothing could stand in his way.
Standing tall and proud, Momonga emerged anew, his dark robes fluttering in the wind. The intensity of his red orbs pierced through the uncertainty, matching his inner consciousness's gaze.
"I may not know what exactly to do, but I do know what I can do. And that's to be there for them—all of them! As they were for me."
Keep on moving forward, one step at a time. Become their beacon, as they had become his.
"Have faith in them as they do for me." Momonga finished.
The two exchanged no words, for there was nothing left to say. Momonga's gaze settled upon Satoru Suzuki, who maintained a stoic and silent demeanor for a fleeting moment. Suddenly, a small, approving, and satisfied smile emerged on Satoru Suzuki's countenance, directed towards Momonga.
The world around me shifted once more, and reality finally settled back into place, as color gradually returned to the world. The replica of Satoru Suzuki flickered and eventually dissolved into nothingness, but the apparition paid it no mind, content to glance once more at the still images of his friends. A soft and content smile graced his face as he redirected his focus towards Momonga.
"Sometimes, all that is needed is just a glimmer of hope." With those parting words, he vanished from the world as time resumed its course.
Momonga's senses was instantly engulfed with a flood of lights and sounds, as the action continued to unfold all around him. The voices of his guildmates reverberated in his ears. Whereas before he would have become paralyzed with anxiety, this time he found himself possessing a calm and collected focus, born from a singular and unwavering desire.
"[Emiya-san! How long would it take you to put the boss down?]" He shouted into the connection, causing a few of the guild members to be momentarily taken aback by their leader's sudden exclamation.
"[I need you guys to hold on. Three—no, two minutes. Just hold out for two more minutes, and we'll see this through!]" Shirou promised.
"Then we shall do our best on our side and hold back the invading mobs. Tanks and frontliners, assemble at the front and form a perimeter! Those who can use spells and buffs, use them to protect the frontliners, while the others provide secondary support. This fight isn't over yet. We need to give Emiya-san's party all the time they need to defeat the boss!" Momonga ordered as he launched a spell into a cluster of enemies.
"But Momonga-san, that's crazy! How the hell are we even sure it's going to work?!" Punitto Moe all but demanded.
"We don't!" Momonga answered back. This shocked the entire guild for not only how immediate his answer was but also how certain he sounded in his uncertainty.
With another spell cast, Momonga decimated a large group of the Undead Walkers, yet one of them managed to survive and charged straight for the Elder Lich. As the monster lunged to attack, Mononga surprised everyone when he gripped his staff with both hands and delivered a crushing blow to its head. The enemy was flung into the air, shattering into polygons upon landing.
Despite it being impossible when it comes to YGGDRASIL's facial limitations, for the briefest of moments, his red orbs seemingly glowed an intense, otherworldly crimson. For no more than a split second, the horde of low-level mobs paused as if cowed by the Overlord's sheer presence before continuing with their march as dictated by their programs.
"You all said I was worthy of being the Guildmaster. You all saw something in me, something that made me worthy of your trust. And when I made the declaration that we would conquer this tomb as first-timers, you all stood by me. I now ask you all, my friends, to show that trust once more. Trust in Emiya-san just as I trust him! Trust in him, as you all trust me, and I in all of you!" He pleaded with them all.
For the third time, they were subjected to another inspiring speech by Momonga. Where the first one was spirited and boisterous, a bold proclamation. The second was more down-to-earth and reassuring than it was confident. But this one was different from the others.
It was pure and simple; Momonga spoke to them directly, his treasured friends.
"Go Emiya-san! We shall hold them off, no matter the cost! So, fight and win!" Momonga rallied. "For Ainz Ooal Gown!" With a passionate battle cry, Momonga did the unthinkable and charged forward with no fear against the sea of undead walkers. Momonga swung his staff and batted away the undead, all the while unleashing spell after spell.
After all, if the leader doesn't take the first step, then how can allies follow after him?
"Ooorrrahhh!" Warrior Takemikazuchi let out a battle cry, cutting through a group of walkers.
"Quit your gawking!" He shouted towards his fellow guildmates, knocking them out of their stupor. "You heard the boss! We've come too far to lose now! Follow our Guildmaster! So fight! Fight until your dying breath. For Ainz Ooal Gown!" He laughed jovially despite the hazardous situation they were all in. He chased after their Guildmaster, cutting down the horde of mobs with renewed determination.
"That's right!" Another member chimed in, following Warrior Takemikazuchi's statement. It was Bukubukuchagama, forcefully slamming her shields into the undead.
"Emiya-san hasn't let us down before, and I know he won't let us down now!" She defended her not-so-secret crush. With two great shields in hand, she rushed forward to join her friends. "For Momonga-san! For Ainz Ooal Gown!"
She charged forward undauntedly after the two. Her rally, along with the others, ignited a new spark within the members, inspiring them all.
"Like hell, I'm going to give those shitty devs the satisfaction!"
"If we're gonna go down, we're going down fighting!"
"For Momonga-San!"
"For Ainz Ooal Gown!"
Like a domino effect, one by one, the remaining members of Ainz Ooal Gown rallied together and chorused the same battle cry as they followed Momonga's lead. It was as if a spark had been ignited within them, fueling their determination to fight on. Their Guildmaster's passionate leadership had inspired them to come together as one and charge forward with renewed vigor. Like an arrow released from a bow, they pushed ahead with unwavering resolve.
With this newfound strength, they were emboldened to face even the most daunting of challenges. They found the strength to continue their fight to overcome the impossible, because if they didn't fight for it, how would they even know if it wasn't possible?
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
On the other side of the [Message], Shirou and the rest of the party heard their friend's declaration as they made their final stand.
A great fire was born, and they would need to hurry before it was extinguished. The rest of Ainz Ooal Gown were doing their part, now it was time for Shirou and them to do theirs.
"You all heard Momonga-san! We've got to beat the boss before it's too late. Peroroncino-san, Touch Me-san, both of you retreat as far back as you can and prepare your strongest attack! Blue Planet-san, Amanomahitotsu-san, go with them and apply as many enchantments and buffs as you physically can to them. I'll draw out the boss, and when I give the signal, attack it with everything you've got!" Shirou ordered in a tone that brokered no arguments.
The tone in his voice was one that the other Players were all too familiar with. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, and they trusted each other completely. But there was one among them who knew what to do, and had the experience and skills needed to lead them through this new challenge. They needed to give him their complete trust and cooperation if they were going to succeed. So they listened carefully as he began to lay out the plan.
They did not exactly know what their friend was planning, but they would trust him with their lives.
"What's the signal, senpai?" Peroroncino asked for clarification.
"You'll know it when you see it." The two simply nodded and retreated away from the boss, leaving Shirou alone with it.
While they were retreating, Touch Me glanced back at him.
"It'll work, Emiya-san." Touch Me reassured.
"I know it will... because I don't know what I'll do if it doesn't." Shirou simply said.
Shirou took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he prepared for what was to come. Momonga placed his faith in him. Shirou would make sure it would not be wasted, not now or ever.
"[Trace Bullet: Maximum Fire]!"
With a relentless assault, he unleashed a barrage of projected weapons upon the formidable chimera. The bombardment rained down upon the boss like a torrential downpour. Though the assault inflicted no damage, the attack had succeeded in stalling the beast, allowing the others to move into position and draw the full brunt of its fury onto Shirou. Yggseria emerged with nary a scrath, but he had completed his objective.
The boss glared at him. The others had seemingly been forgotten for the moment.
"That's right… eyes on me." With the boss's complete attention on him, it was time for phase two.
"Trace on!"
As Shirou closed his eyes, the vivid imagery of Unlimited Blade Works flooded his mind. He could see the rolling hills of weapons stretching out before him, each one glinting in the bright sunlight. With a deep breath, he zoomed past the endless rows of swords, spears, and axes, searching for the perfect weapon for his next battle. Finally, he spotted it—a magnificent spear resting at the top of a hill, surrounded by legendary weapons like Gáe Bolg and Gungnir.
Shirou wrestled control as the luminous arcs of prana coalesced, narrowing and extending to form the barest resemblance of staff. With a flourish, he slammed the end onto the ground as the Noble Phantasm materialized.
The Noble Phantasm was an impressive sight, towering as tall as Shirou with its simple yet elegant design. Its long black metal shaft extended up to the blade, which was composed of two small shafts that held a beautiful golden blade. This weapon was classified as a Pilum, a throwing spear or javelin that was commonly used during Roman warfare. Its historical significance was not lost on Shirou, who marveled at the weapon's craftsmanship and the skill of those who wielded it.
[Durindana Pilum: Ultimate Unbroken Spear – Divine Tier Spear]
This Noble Phantasm was wielded by perhaps one of the greatest and most powerful heroes ever known, The Hero of Troy, The Great Rival to Achilles himself. The Trojan Hero: Hector.
The spear was wielded by the Trojan general, a master tactician and warrior who matched him with those of numerous other Greek heroes in the Trojan War.
The legend surrounding Durindana sprung up because Hector was often fond of throwing it at his opponent. The spear was praised worldwide for its ability to pierce through anything in the world and for having brought Hector many victories. However, the spear faced defeat once at the hands of the powerful shield of Ajax, or Aias, as he was also known. The mighty shield that covers the burning heavens: Rho Aias. It took six of its seven layers to deflect the Noble Phantasm, which demonstrates the strength and durability of Rho Aias. It was said that only something as mighty as Rho Aias could ever hope to defend against the Ultimate Unbroken Spear.
Shirou had come across the Noble Phantasm by complete accident one day on a mission in Greece. He stumbled upon a dig site and uncovered a small, broken portion of the weapon. But it was enough, as Unlimited Blade Works cataloged the spear. Thus, Durindana Pilum found its place within the hills of swords.
The weapon shared great similarities with its namesake, Durandal. Both were remembered and renowned as weapons with almost no equal. Durindana Pilum was capable of breaking through any defenses that stood in its way, making it a true Noble Phantasm.
Unlike its counterparts, such as Gáe Bolg and the like, Durindana possessed no special ability or targeting enchantments that he could activate before using it, so it was completely possible for Shirou to miss the initial throw. Something he could not leave up to chance.
Among all of his Noble Phantasms, Durindana stood out as the sole weapon with the potential to break through the boss's impenetrable defenses and pave the way for victory. According to legend, this spear possessed the ability to pierce through practically any obstacle. However, there remained the question of whether or not Durindana could successfully breach the near-invincible defenses that were an integral part of the boss's programmed mechanics.
Unfortunately, they were out of options and time, and the Noble Phantasm was their best and only chance left.
Either it would work, or it wouldn't.
"Let's put it to the test then… [Reinforcement]!"
Shirou lowered his stance, his knees bent and taunt, while he leaned his body forward. His posture was very reminiscent of that of an Olympic runner.
Prana coursed through his body, concentrating specifically on his legs.
The soles of his boots pressed against the concrete ground. In response, the ground was slowly forming cracks under his weight.
His muscles tensed like a loaded spring being compressed to its limits. More and more prana flooded his legs, almost to the point of overloading his circuits with how much prana he was pumping into them.
The spring tightened further and further, ready to be released.
Finally, it snapped, and Shirou made his move.
With a powerful step forward, his body surged ahead, his body a blur as he moved. The sheer force of his movement created a miniature shockwave, sending a burst of air outward from his running start.
The boss didn't seem pleased with the situation as the chimera growled and stomped towards the magus, who was speeding towards him. However, Shirou knew his goal could not be met in a frontal assault. Instead of a straight rush towards the chimera, as they drew closer, he circled around the boss.
The centipede and reptilian head lashed out, but they were far too slow as Shirou maneuvered around the boss's colossal form, ending with him completely behind the boss.
Yggseria's spiked tail swiped at him, but Shirou dodged it easily enough, and as the tail receded, Shirou then jumped onto it!
From the very beginning, he realized that a straightforward approach wouldn't work. To achieve his goal, he couldn't afford to take the risk of launching a direct attack. Rather, he had to find a way to target its weak spot—the backside.
With the boss's sheer size and body structure, it was close to impossible for it to mount a proper counterattack when he was so close to it. Especially if Shirou was practically running along the boss's body. It would be unable to launch any of its howls, and the various heads would find it difficult to attack at the right angles needed.
Running along the boss's lengthy hind skeletal spinal body, his goal was in sight, the spinning core rotating in the center of its chest.
Just a bit further...
However, it seems Shirou underestimated just how persistent the boss truly was. Contorting and bending at impossible angles, the skeletal skulls of the reptilian and centipede lunged. The reptilian was the fastest, and he responded by sliding under its head, allowing the attack to sail over his body. Yggseria's entire body rocked from the attack on itself, but he managed to stay on it. The elongated skull of the centipede was quick to follow and bolted toward the magus. Its sickle scythes gleamed with the intent to skewer him.
With quick reflexes, Shirou skillfully maneuvered his spear to pole vault over the swipe, on top of the insectoid's skull. From this elevated vantage point, it provided him the ideal position to throw Durindana.
Shirou reared his arm back, readying the throw, only to feel the skull beneath him lurch upward abruptly. His eyes widened as the head tossed him into the air. As his body flew, it didn't take long before he reached the apex of his launch and gravity took hold.
And so, Shirou was sent into a free fall.
High above, he heard the yells of surprise from his friends.
As Shirou plummeted through the air, his thoughts raced. His Mind's Eye took over, meticulously calculating the trajectory and arc of his fall. With a sudden burst of confidence, he realized that he still had another shot to make things right. He would only have a split second where his freefall would reach the right altitude and angle where he would have a clear and open shot at the chimera's chest.
His first attempt had failed, but it seems his Luck stat was feeling awfully generous and provided him with a second and final chance.
Righting himself mid-freefall, Shirou had to time it correctly. As the massive chimera boss loomed before him, Shirou met its gaze with a fierce determination of his own, ready to take it down no matter the cost.
"All or nothing!" Tightening his grip on the Noble Phantasm, he reared his arm back.
The opportunity finally presented itself.
"Let none stand in your path! Penetrate, Durindana!"
Kinetic force condensed at the end of the spear as Shirou reinforced his arm to the absolute limit. With unyielding determination, he hurled it forward, pouring every ounce of strength into the throw. Durindana propelled forward, breaking through the sound barrier with a deafening boom. The force of his throw was so intense that it sent him hurtling backwards. The spear continued its journey, leaving behind a trail of pressurized circular shockwaves in its wake, as it gained even more momentum.
The spear cut through the air with a thunderous roar. A brilliant and luminous golden shine coated the spear, embracing it as if it were the arms of a gentle lover.
Like a majestic golden comet streaking across the sky, it was an enrapturing sight for all to see.
Yggseria hardly had time to even react, let alone defend itself against the Noble Phantasm, as it slammed into the chimera's ribcage. Just before Durindana could make contact, it was stopped by the crimson barrier. The impact of the clash sent shockwaves through the land, but both remained steadfast.
And thus, the two opposing forces clashed, their very existence and nature coming into conflict.
Much like Caladbolg II, Durindana was halted by the boss's timed mechanics. But unlike Caladbolg, its momentum would not be halting any time soon.
The sight of Durindana struggling against the boss's invincibility took center stage. It did not penetrate through immediately, and yet the spear showed no sign of stopping or slowing down. Durindana would not stop until either it was destroyed or the obstacle in front of it was.
As Durindana and the crimson barrier clashed in a fierce struggle, a dazzling display of sparks and light erupted, illuminating the entire cavern battlefield. Streaks of golden rays flowed forth from Durindana, mingling with the flares of crimson light emanating from the boss's defensive buff, and casting a surreal glow that saturated every corner of the cave.
They danced and flowed in all directions and popped in the air like fireworks.
The ear-piercing sound of grinding steel reverberated throughout the battlefield.
The raging wind whirled at the epicenter as if a miniature windstorm were taking place right where the Noble Phantasm was attempting to break through the barrier.
As Shirou drifted into free fall, he felt time dilate around him. Every detail of what was happening around him became magnified and crystal clear, as if the universe had decided to put it all into slow motion just for him. The sight of Durindana clashing against Yggseria brought forth a question from within Shirou's mind. An all-consuming question that echoed through his head, drowning out everything else around him.
"Could it even work?"
The boss's timed and near-invincibility mechanics were not simply superficial characteristics or mere add-ons, but rather, they were deeply ingrained into its coding and programming, forming an essential part of its very existence. These mechanics were so integral to the boss that they were inseparable from its overall makeup, defining its very essence. Within the realm of YGGDRASIL, just as Players were bound by strict rules and regulations that prevented them from exceeding their level cap or using spells or skills that weren't appropriate to their build and job classes, there were fundamental laws that governed and maintained the virtual world's balance. Even Shirou, who was deemed alive and real within the game, was not exempt from these laws, leaving him open to their effects and vulnerabilities.
Given this reality, it was highly unlikely that Durindana could even conceive of breaking through the boss's defense, especially when the timed mechanics were a fundamental aspect of the boss.
The developers, and by extension, the world of YGGDRASIL, gave this chimera boss its invincibility. Its ruling made true.
And thusly, Yggseria was, by definition, deemed nearly invulnerable for a specific duration. The boss was impervious to harm unless one could bypass its coded mechanism — the defensive barrier/buff that reduces any incoming damages by a substantial amount and took the form of its secondary health bar, as that was the "truth" YGGDRASIL dictated.
This principle was one of the fundamental laws enforced by the virtual world, no different from how gravity dictates that what goes up must come down.
Thus, the question arose as to which was superior: the rules governing the programs of the boss fight or the legend surrounding Durindana? Ultimately, which would YGGDRASIL accept as the truth?
But to answer that question, another must be answered.
Who, or rather, what, was Shirou Emiya now?
In the beginning years of his transfer to YGGDRASIL, he pondered his newfound existence.
He knew he wasn't human, not anymore, or at least not in the traditional sense of the definition.
He was still him, with all his thoughts, facets, but not in the normal sense.
In a way, it was very similar to how the Throne of Heroes operated. It held within it the collective consciousness, skill, wisdom, personality, and abilities of the heroes of old. The Throne of Heroes operated as an archive, storing the engramatic history of all Heroic Spirit within it for all of time.
The virtual world of YGGDRASIL merely provides a medium for Shirou to exist. His body was gone, but his mind, his id, and his ego, his very essence of self, were still very much alive. It was this fact that differentiated him from everyone else.
He wasn't like everyone else. Where the other people merely inhabit the virtual world, Shirou lives in it. To them, YGGDRASIL was nothing more than a false reality, but for him, the world of YGGDRASIL was his reality.
For one reason or another, he is alive in this world.
It was why he could feel pain where other Players could not. It was why certain nuisances and discrepancies existed between him and other regular Players. It would explain how he was capable of feeling fatigued or even getting burns from overusing his magic circuits. Or even the fact that Shirou was capable of dismembering himself, such as during the Berserker boss fight, despite YGGDRASIL possessing no dismemberment feature whatsoever.
He was alive in YGGDRASIL, bound to its world and rules. It was this fact that separated him from everyone else.
Perhaps it was more accurate to compare him to a sentient NPC with all the nuisances given to a regular Player.
He was a Player, but at the same time, he was not one.
A Fake Player.
If he was a false existence, then what did that make his Noble Phantasm now?
When he finally accepted his new life within the digital confines of YGGDRASIL all those years ago, he questioned and pondered such an inquiry. He wondered what became of the true state of the Noble Phantasm stored within him. Were they now fake versions of his copied weapons?
A fake-fake Noble Phantasm?
Gilgamesh had once called him a faker. Were he here right now, no doubt the King of Heroes would find some twisted amusement in his situation. And in a way, he wasn't wrong. By virtue of the fact that the weapons he fought with were not his own. His projections were more than an imitation of their true counterparts.
At the end of the day, what he was tracing was nothing more than a copy of the original, forged within the depths of his Reality Marble with Unlimited Blade Works providing the blueprints.
They were imitations.
Replicas.
Duplicates.
Fakes…
They could never quite measure up to the real deal. Not then or now.
So, what did that make them now, now that he was a part of YGGDRASIL? Were they just lines of code and binary numbers given special abilities and powers to create the appearance of unique items? Was their entire history reduced to mere flavor texts and backstory for the world? Or were they nothing more than powerful weapons with unique abilities like all the rest within YGGDRASIL?
No.
To think of them that way was an insult to their very core.
Perhaps, in a way, it may be true that YGGDRASIL could indeed replicate the physical attributes, abilities, and designs of these formidable weapons.
It may be true that his projections were nothing but mere imitations and copies but they carried something that distinguished them from every other weapon in YGGDRASIL. They held a significance that transcended their physical form. They were more than just powerful weapons, nor were they mere flavor text or lines of code. They held a deeper meaning that surpassed any sword, spear, shield, bow, or any other object one could think of.
YGGDRASIL may be able to replicate the physical aspects of these projections, but there was one crucial element it could not replicate: their legends. These Noble Phantasm held within them a history, purpose, story, myth, and legend that was unique to their origin.
They were stories made real.
Myths given life.
Legends granted physical manifestation.
His Noble Phantasms encapsulated and transcended normal comprehension.
And that was something that couldn't be simply copied over.
Unlimited Blade Works was a marvel beyond compare, not merely a repository for incredible weaponry but a manifestation of his very being. The essence of every legendary weapon he had ever encountered was etched within his Reality Marble, not just as mere blueprints but as a complete collection of every detail imaginable. Every weapon, from its history and origins to its intricate design and the materials used to create it, was meticulously recorded and organized within Shirou's psyche. It was a vast library of unparalleled proportions, a true masterpiece that defied all expectations of what was possible.
As he once said to the King of Heroes, "There are no rules that an imitation cannot surpass its original."
Real or fake.
Genuine or a copy.
It didn't matter if what he projected was a real Noble Phantasm, a fake Noble Phantasm, or even a fake-fake Noble Phantasm.
A Noble Phantasm was a Noble Phantasm.
Just as Momonga believed in him, Shirou too believed in his Noble Phantasm. These beautiful crystallizations of myths and legends. At their very core, their legends were made manifest.
And that will never, ever change.
Where normally the lore and flavor text of weapons and items held no significance besides a backdrop to the game, this was not the case for Shirou. Even within the digital confines of YGGDRASIL, their legends still thrive. Shirou knew this fact well, and it was reflected in how certain Noble Phantasms of his were either given new abilities or altered in a way that allowed them to interact with the virtual world as a whole. His ability to interact with the more esoteric mechanics within the game was unmatched, transcending common sense and normality.
The massive damage reduction buff granted to the chimera boss functioned as a defensive mechanic in the game.
A shield of sorts.
Durindana was said to be able to pierce through anything. No shield or defense of any kind could hope to withstand its might.
And so Durindana will pierce through everything.
Because, as the saying goes:
LEGENDS
A loud crack echoed throughout the air. The stalemate had been broken at last.
Cracks began to spread from where Durindana had pierced the transparent crimson barrier. At first, they were slow and few, but soon they stretched throughout the chimera's ribcage and body. If the creature had any flesh and skin left, its four faces would display an expression of utter disbelief at the sight before them. The impossible was happening right before its eyes. Its supposed "invincibility" was being pierced as Durindana continued to puncture through its preconceived armor of invincibility.
The beast of a boss roared in pain.
Its "Truth" was being overwhelmed by Durindana.
NEVER
The battle was intense. The streaks of golden light shone brighter than ever from Durindana. It was a sight to behold as the spear pierced deeper into the boss, overtaking the flashes of crimson flares from its defensive buff. The buff and boss tried to force the Noble Phantasm back, but it was failing miserably. The waves of dazzling golden light flooded the battlefield as Durindana slowly but surely broke through. The Noble Phantasm's momentum did not stop, no matter how hard the boss fought against it. The membrane-like barrier flared with splashes of crimson, all trying to repel Durindana and close up the wound.
But it was of no use.
Durindana was too powerful, and it was clear that the boss could do nothing to stop it.
The chimera screeched, feeling itself being punctured by the Noble Phantasm. Its entire ribcage was riddled with cracks, and Durindana's golden tip penetrated deep. The beast roared in abject agony, its whole body swaying in a last-minute attempt to dislodge it, yet Durindana stayed its course.
DIE!
Durindana finally broke through with an earth-shattering boom. The entire frontal half of Yggseria's chest instantly caved in and was reduced to a fine powder and dust not a moment later by the Noble Phantasm. The golden pilum easily blasted through and drilled itself through the core, leaving a gaping hole in its center. The Noble Phantasm traveled unabated, exiting through the back of its spinal ribcage, severing the boss's lower body and legs, and destroying its vertebrae and spinal cord after passing through its backside. A good amount of its HP was lost in that attack alone.
Durindana had broken through the mechanic as if it were a physical aspect, shattering its illusion.
The chimera let loose one last shriek of pure anguish as the boss crumbled before them. The ground shook from the impact. All that was left of the boss was a mangled mound of bones with its destroyed torso opened, leaving its final weakness unprotected.
'Now!' Peroroncino and Touch Me thought in unison. That was the signal they were waiting for.
Shirou had done his part, now it was time to do theirs.
Enhanced by the numerous buffs and enchantments, thanks to Blue Planet and Amanomahitotsu, they unleashed their attacks simultaneously.
"[Shooting Stardust]!" Peroroncino released his most powerful skill. Houyi's Bow, Peroroncino's Divine tier bow, would normally fire arrows in the form of concentrated sunlight or some variation of it. This rendered standardized arrows pointless.
Unlike the many attacks before it, this skill did not burn the intensity of the sun but rather sparkled and shined something much greater.
A beam of pure light and energy, radiating something grand and cosmic.
Peroroncino released, and he fired the arrow of pure light with the strength and intensity of a dazzling star.
"[World Break]!" Holding Heroic Triumph at its apex, Touch Me swung his sword forth.
And with the descent of his mighty blade, it heralded the end for all in his path.
A skill bestowed upon only the truly worthy, the World Champions. A skill that was capable of shattering all barriers, be they space, time, or reality.
A slash that cut through all.
An attack that rendered everything in its way pointless and mute, and with it, its fate was sealed.
The two attacks reached their target instantly.
Shirou didn't even see the attacks connect before his entire world was blinded by white light. An explosion of indeterminate proportion, one greater than any he had witnessed before, formed and bathed everything in white light. Shirou was still in free fall as he became enveloped by the overwhelming brightness of the light.
And for but a second, light gave away to darkness, and Shirou knew no more.
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
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