Shalltear growled at the sight of Albedo entering her chambers. "What are you doing here?"

  Was it bad for her to hold such disrespect toward the Guardian Overseer? Of course, but she didn’t care. "Can’t you see I’m busy?"

  Albedo regarded her and her brides with bold disgust, an insult conveyed clearly through expression alone. "I don’t have time to exchange insults with you," the succubus retorted with a scoff. "Lord Momonga has summoned all guardians to the Sixth Floor. He wishes to speak with us."

  Shalltear rose to her feet, pushing away a vampire bride who squealed from the shove before groaning as her head struck the stone floor. "I see!" she said excitedly. "Well, I can’t keep him waiting now, can I?" She absentmindedly fixed a lock of her hair. "My future husband needs me!"

  "What did you just say?" Albedo's voice turned cold.

  Shalltear scowled. "Don't you have something else to do? Why are you still here?"

  Albedo's anger cooled as a smirk curled her lips. "You are correct. I still need to call on Antikythera."

  The name soured Shalltear’s mood instantly. And Albedo knew it. The bitch was outright smiling now. Shalltear gred, but the succubus simply turned away, clearly delighted by her distress.

  Grinding her teeth, Shalltear bit down on the irritation and moved to her closet, yanking a vampire bride out of her way by the hair and shoving her aside. She dressed swiftly, fastening her paddings before adorning the elegant dress her creator had given her. Lord Peroroncino would have been sad to see her like this. But he wasn’t here.

  He had abandoned her long ago.

  She wouldn’t feel bitter about it if he hadn’t poured so much affection onto the beings of the First Floor. He had left her toys to entertain herself with, and that should have been enough—but instead, he went ahead and made more children. Nurses, ones favored by the other Supreme Beings, governed by the woman Lady Bukubukuchagama created.

  Shalltear didn’t hate her sisters. Quite the opposite. They didn’t even help defend the First Floor, and it wasn’t as though she resented what had transpired there.

  So who did she hate?

  The question came from herself, directed at herself. And the answer, perhaps, y within her grasp.

  She was cking. That much was clear. Perhaps that was why the Supreme Beings had left—because she couldn’t defend the tomb, despite being crowned the strongest.

  Well. She had once been given that title.

  Not anymore.

  Like an old toy repced by something new and shiny, Shalltear had been outshone by the new Floor Guardian created by Lord Amanomahitotsu. Compared to her, Antikythera was powerful—capable of holding off several waves of raiders all by himself. She could revive, but only once, and only with an item.

  Antikythera, on the other hand? He could fight as many times as he wanted, so long as his floor still had automatons. And there were plenty to choose from. Too many, in fact. It was a superior version of her own life-steal ability, and unlike her [Spuit Lance], which required an item to enhance it, his [Consciousness Transfer] needed no such thing.

  More than anything—he could do what Shalltear had failed to.

  Defend against several hundred invaders all at once.

  A bitter taste flooded her mouth, sharp with the sweetness of iron. She realized betedly that she had bitten her tongue. Not on purpose—never on purpose. But it happened regardless.

  Did the other guardians feel the same way? She was eager to find out.

  Raising a hand, she cast [Gate]. Resistance pushed against her spell for a moment—Aureole Omega, Albedo’s sister and the only human in the tomb, must have detected it and hesitated before letting it through.

  The portal came to life, and she stepped through.

  The Sixth Floor—Colosseum. The home of that irritating Aura.

  Shalltear gnced around, noting the presence of Demiurge, Cocytus, Mare, and Albedo, who had just arrived. That meant she had already called Antikythera.

  And there, sitting at the edge of the gathering, was Lord Momonga. His beautiful form gleamed under the artificial starlight of Lord Blue Pnet’s making. The legendary Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown rested in his grasp, his overwhelming aura pressing down on all of them.

  Oh, how frightful! Just standing beneath his presence made Shalltear feel—ah, how intoxicating!

  She fought back a shudder, barely managing to keep herself composed.

  "Demiurge, Cocytus," Shalltear greeted, offering a warmer smile to Mare. "Mare." Then her tone cooled. "Aura." Finally, she turned to Lord Momonga and curtsied. "Shalltear Bloodfallen, at your service."

  "Shalltear." The dark elf’s voice was just as annoyed as Shalltear felt toward her.

  Lord Momonga had barely acknowledged her before Demiurge spoke. "Lord Momonga, if I may ask, why have you called us?"

  Annoying. Shalltear wanted to watch Lord Momonga first! Not—whatever this was!

  "I have a feeling something is amiss," the Overlord said, his deep voice sending another shiver down Shalltear’s spine. "Did you all feel it too?"

  Demiurge nodded. "Yes."

  "Good. Then it wasn’t just me." Lord Momonga leaned forward slightly. "We shall wait for Sebas to arrive and report on the situation outside the tomb."

  They didn’t have to wait long. When the butler arrived, an intense scent of iron and sulfur clung to the air, making Shalltear frown. She recognized that scent.

  "Lord Momonga. Your weapon greets you."

  The voice was artificial, echoing with an unnatural reverberation. The measured pace of speech made it unmistakably inhuman. Unmistakably inorganic. And only one guardian sounded like that.

  "Antikythera." Lord Momonga greeted him, his tone contemptive. "Have you spoken with Sebas about the situation?"

  "Yes," the automaton replied. "But I believe it is best if you hear it from him directly."

  Sebas stepped forward and bowed. "The tomb has relocated. We are no longer surrounded by a caustic swamp. Instead, there are vast grass pins on all sides."

  "I see." Lord Momonga nodded, as though confirming a suspicion. What that suspicion was, Shalltear didn’t know—but Demiurge, Albedo, and Antikythera probably did. They were smart like that. She wasn’t. All she could do was listen.

  "There is a forest nearby, but nothing else," Sebas added.

  "Umu." Lord Momonga went silent. "Just as I thought."

  "What happened, Lord Momonga?" Antikythera tilted his head. "Is this by your magic? The same one you used to integrate my factory into the tomb?"

  "I'm afraid not," the Overlord admitted. "This is not my doing—or anyone’s within the tomb."

  "Concerning," Antikythera murmured.

  "Indeed," Demiurge agreed. "We do not know what this new world has in store for us. I believe we should reinforce the tomb immediately."

  "My production line, as far as I am aware, remains unaffected," Antikythera reassured. Probably. Shalltear wasn’t sure.

  "Overseer, did Nazarick’s resources dwindle during the teleportation?"

  "I have yet to check," Albedo replied, a frown crossing her face. She was concerned. Shalltear could tell.

  "U-uhm—" Mare raised his hand hesitantly. "I-I can put dirt walls around Nazarick to hide it."

  "And what? Sully the tomb?!" Albedo’s anger fred—but then Antikythera ughed, his echoing voice reverberating through the colosseum.

  "Something funny, Antikythera?" Albedo snapped.

  "Yes. The suggestion has merit. Mare, you are a dryad, correct?"

  Mare hesitated before nodding. "Y-yes?"

  "Then go beyond just hiding it. The Supreme Beings lived in a swamp. Shouldn't it remain a swamp?"

  "How. Dare. It. Be. A. Grass. Field?" Cocytus muttered in disbelief.

  Mare perked up. "I-I can turn the nd into a swamp!"

  They all turned to Lord Momonga.

  "...What?" he blinked.

  "Your will is our command," Antikythera intoned.

  "I see." Lord Momonga nodded. "Then turn the field into a swamp."

  The guardians nodded, determination bzing in their eyes.