Near the border of the Holy Kingdom.
In a dark corner somewhere in the outskirts, a figure flickered faintly in the shadows.
"Time really does pass quickly."
The voice belonged to a man. It was slightly hoarse, and the suppressed emotion within it was easy to hear.
Moonlight fell from above, illuminating his face.
He wore a black magic robe. His complexion was as pale as a corpse, and his entire presence radiated an aura that warned others to stay away.
Khajiit Dale Badantel.
On the surface, he was known as one of the Twelve members of the terrorist organization Zurrernorn.
He specialized in necromancy, yet in secret he had long since pledged loyalty to Nazarick.
After receiving Naohara's gift in E-Rantel, he immediately returned to Zurrernorn's base and completed the transformation into an Undead.
Now he had completely shed his identity as a human, becoming an immortal being that neither aged nor died.
Given his usual personality, he would normally devote himself entirely to researching resurrection magic in order to revive his mother, ignoring everything happening in the outside world.
If nothing unexpected happened, he likely would not have stepped outside for a hundred years.
But there were always exceptions.
A sudden message had forced this tireless researcher to abandon his hundred-year plan on the spot.
"I wonder how Naohara-sama is doing… I never expected a message from him so suddenly…"
Khajiit clenched his dried, skeletal fist. Veins bulged along his arm, which was now little more than skin stretched over bone.
The conversation they had in E-Rantel was still vivid in his memory.
[Khajiit, do you believe in destiny?]
[You possess the unwavering resolve to abandon your humanity, and I possess the power to make that happen. Our meeting is the result of that mysterious pull.]
The familiar voice echoed through his mind.
"Perhaps this really is fate. Even a sinner like me has a savior of his own."
Khajiit raised his head and looked toward the sky.
Silently, he made a vow to himself.
No matter what, he would not disappoint Naohara-sama.
Even if his body was torn apart.
Even if he stood on the brink of death.
As long as he could see his mother one more time.
Then he would have no regrets.
"You must be Khajiit."
A dignified voice came from above, abruptly interrupting his thoughts.
Khajiit immediately looked toward the source of the voice.
In the sky, a figure had appeared at some unknown moment.
Under the cold moonlight, the first thing he saw was a stern skeletal face.
When did he arrive?
A trace of shock flashed through Khajiit's eyes.
Ever since absorbing Naohara-sama's gift, his strength was no longer what it used to be.
In Zurrernorn's eyes, he had merely stepped into the Realm of Heroes.
But in truth, he had already surpassed that level and entered the legendary domain beyond humanity.
Yet someone had managed to approach him silently.
Not only that, but before speaking, the other party had revealed no openings at all.
Almost instinctively, Khajiit tightened his grip on the Orb of Death as magic quietly began to circulate.
But in the very next moment, he relaxed his guard.
"Your subordinate Khajiit pays his respects to Momonga-sama."
Khajiit immediately dropped to one knee and spoke without the slightest hesitation.
After that brief moment of caution, he had already realized who the visitor was.
One of the Supreme Beings, Momonga-sama.
He was the one Khajiit had been waiting for.
Khajiit knew almost nothing about him, but he understood one thing clearly: this was an existence equal to Naohara-sama.
That alone was enough.
He would offer his loyalty without reservation.
"Rise."
"Naohara should have already told you about me."
Momonga descended from the air.
Soulfire flickered within his hollow eye sockets as he examined the Undead before him.
He knew a little about this one.
Back when he, Naohara, and Herohero had seized the World-Class Item [Downfall of Castle and Country], the three of them had casually chatted about their respective experiences.
Among the things they discussed was this unusual human, the one who had once tried to sacrifice all of E-Rantel, turn himself into an Undead, and revive his mother.
"So he has completely transformed into an Undead?"
"This form... a Lich."
Momonga thought to himself.
In this different world, he had only seen two cases of humans becoming Undead.
Aside from the Khajiit standing before him, the only other one he had encountered was during the cleanup of Eight Fingers in the Kingdom.
That one had called himself the Undead King, a fellow named Davernoch.
At the time, Momonga had even recovered the corpse and soul of that [Undead King] and brought them back to Nazarick for study.
He had gained some fairly interesting results from it.
"Yes, Momonga-sama. I will guide you there at once."
Khajiit rose and answered respectfully.
Momonga-sama's purpose here was obvious. He had come for the organization Khajiit belonged to.
Khajiit felt no burden over this at all. He had long since betrayed Zurrernorn.
Besides, in his eyes, being able to contribute to Momonga-sama, an existence equal to Naohara-sama, was the highest honor.
"Mm."
Momonga nodded.
The truth was, he had only come here because he was bored.
At present, the Sorcerer Kingdom was being managed by the new Prime Minister, Renner, while Nazarick was under Albedo's care.
With nothing much to do for the time being, Momonga had decided to take a casual stroll through the mortal world.
When Naohara heard about that, he enthusiastically recommended Zurrernorn to him.
After all, once the E-Rantel affair had been resolved, Naohara had already thought of turning Zurrernorn into a small-scale dungeon for Momonga to clear by himself whenever he had time and wanted to have some fun farming monsters.
Now that he had the chance, there was no reason not to.
Momonga had readily accepted the suggestion.
"Still, I didn't expect it to be near the Holy Kingdom."
"That human called Caspond... since I have the time this round, I may as well go see him too."
Momonga thought to himself.
After the coronation ceremony, he had once received representatives from the Holy Kingdom.
Among them was a human named Caspond who had left a fairly good impression on him.
One was human, the other Undead, yet there had been no distance between them because of race. Their conversation had actually been quite pleasant.
Setting Nazarick aside, Momonga himself genuinely liked humans who shared his way of thinking.
...
At the same time, in the Slane Theocracy.
The divine capital, Silksuntecks.
This was the core city of the Theocracy.
The entire city was divided into six districts centered around the highest temple.
Viewed from above, its overall shape was clearly hexagonal.
Compared with other nations made up purely of humans, the Theocracy possessed combat strength at the very top of the continent.
The people living here all carried a deep sense of pride.
Inside a small room within the central highest temple.
Gathered here were the twelve people who held the highest authority in the Theocracy.
The room was not large, only around a hundred square meters, and the furnishings were extremely simple.
Click. Click.
A soft turning sound rang out without pause.
One figure lounged half-reclined in a chair, giving off an air of lazy ease.
In one hand, he played with a toy that was a specialty of the Theocracy, something called a magic cube.
In the other, he rolled a glass sphere around in his palm.
A closer look revealed a small sapling inside it, stretching out tendrils that spread along the inner surface of the glass.
The priests who were secretly watching immediately sucked in a breath.
As the six leaders of the Theocracy, they should have long since learned to control their emotions.
But the sight before them was simply too unbelievable.
The "Catastrophe Dragon Lord".
That was a terrifying existence capable of rivaling the True Dragon Lords.
If it were to fully awaken here, the Theocracy would undoubtedly be plunged into an unprecedented crisis.
Just imagining it made the priests feel as though their hearts had stopped.
"So, have you made up your minds?"
Naohara yawned and asked casually.
"...The Theocracy can agree to your terms."
"But the contract must be revised in some places."
After a moment of silence, the High Priest of the Slane Theocracy finally spoke.
In front of him, a scroll floated quietly in midair.