Chapter Text
Chapter 15 Testing
This… well, this had certainly taken less time than expected.
Since Jarvis was taking his sweet time interrogating the prisoners — they needed to know how many World items the human prisoners knew about, before deciding on their next course of action — Harry had decided it was as good time as any to investigate on the mystery surrounding Pandora’s actor.
If he was honest with himself, he had thought it would take him some months, perhaps a few weeks if he rushed it, but… in the end, it was fairly simple. It hadn’t even taken more than a few hours to figure out.
The investigation was done in two simple steps. First, he had asked Momonga how he had designed Pandora to imitate Harry’s own skills, and second, he had gone to the Treasury to test some things out with the doppelganger himself.
Looking back at it, it hadn’t even been a long conversation.
“I admit I placed you last, since it was very frustrating. I had the job and racial levels of everyone except you, but you wouldn’t tell me anything! In the end I just placed the skills I had figured out, but was still missing levels to reach the 100, so I added random ones…”
Harry had laughed then, mildly wondering what kind of ‘random’ Momonga had decided to add.
“Really? Huh… but, that doesn’t explain— I mean, there has to be something else there. For example, let’s say… what about the description? Anything interesting on the background lore?”
“The background lore? No, I didn’t really… hmm, well, I don’t remember the exact wording… I just placed something like ‘I give up, Pandora can do whatever the fuck Harry can do’ or something like that… I think?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was just fed up with it.”
Wondering if something so vague could actually be the reason behind Pandora’s ability to apparate, Harry had left Momonga to his own experiment — something about his ever-changing room — while he went directly to the Treasury. They had agreed to share their findings with each other later.
…which brought him to this.
Harry and a transformed Pandora — it was kind of weird to see himself acting like Lockhart, but at least there were no witnesses — were standing side to side, with nothing in front of them except for a giant, red target Harry had drawn lazily on the wall. He had thrown a quick, wandless bombarda at it, and told the guardian to try to do the same.
Pandora — in all his dramatic fashion — had made a ridiculously elaborated flourish before screaming, “Bambarda!” at the wall.
It went against everything Harry knew about magic and how things were supposed to work. It went against the very nature of the spell itself, considering that the movement was all wrong, and he hadn’t even pronounced it correctly.
But damn it all, the result was still…similar. It still worked.
It was weaker, and somewhere on the back of his mind, Harry assumed it was because of his doppelganger restriction. Anything he imitated was only at 80% of the original’s capacity after all, but still….
This changed things.
This changed things a lot.
Oh Merlin, to think that Pandora could be the Guild’s ace in the sleeve, and that no one was aware of it…
But then again, there was a really big restriction on this newly found ability, wasn’t it? Pandora could only imitate that of what he was aware of —however vaguely — and there were plenty of things Harry had been keeping to himself. That’s wasn’t going to work in the long run.
He internally sighed, his excitement suddenly drowned by indecisiveness.
Honestly, Harry had never liked the attention, never liked to stand out unnecessarily. He very much preferred being on the background, doing whatever the hell he wanted, however he decided to, preferably with no one being any the wiser.
He had toned down his skills for so long, from the moment he first joined Ainz Ooal Gown; tried so hard to blend in with his guildmates, that he still unconsciously did it. Even now, after coming ‘clean’ with his status as a non-player, while he was willing to show some of his original magic now and then, it was never too much, nothing too over the top.
Nothing that would drag too much attention.
“Harry-sama? Is everything alright?”
“Eh?” Harry muttered intelligently, having forgotten that the doppelganger was in the room with him, “ah, sorry Pandora. I got distracted.”
“Is something worrying you?”
“Nah, I was just… well, never mind that. Moving on with the test, this is something that I can only do with a wand, so let’s see if you can do without.”
Pandora tilted his head, his own face looking back at him with something akin to confusion —still weird as fuck, Harry would need to get used to his transformed appearance — but in the end let the matter rest as the testing went on. After a few curses were fired at the sturdy wall, it became apparent that Pandora could still imitate without the use of a wand — the lucky bastard — but only if he knew the “incantation” of the spell.
He couldn’t imitate something Harry did soundlessly — a silent protego had been his chosen example — nor could he imitate something whose effect was not immediately obvious — like wards with a ranging multitude of effects.
Runes were definitely not included on Pandora’s imitation skills — even after perfecting the symbols, the simple fire-inducing rune hadn’t worked — and although Harry had mildly wondered on the potion-making ability, he decided testing that would be a loss of time. Since that was an ability that actually existed back in Yggdrasil, Pandora would probably have to transform into someone else to do it efficiently, like Tabula.
What else could they test quickly? There were so many things Harry hadn’t tried— but, wasn’t it better for Pandora to learn over time? Although that would mean that Harry would have to stop restraining himself, which would mean that he would have to—
“Harry-sama?”
“…Hm?” Harry mumbled with a frown, his inner rant cut off again. Ugh, hearing his own voice saying something as silly as the ‘sama’ title was weird. Just saying ‘Harry’ would be less awkward at least.
“You’re doing that face again. If you’re feeling down, I can transform into Tabula-sama and dance!” Pandora offered enthusiastically, and the mere mental image of it was enough to make Harry snort.
“Pfft, tempting, but no. Thanks for the offer though, you really know how to cheer me up, eh?” he said grinning fondly at the NPC.
To think that this huge dork had the potential to be the strongest asset in Nazarick— perhaps it would be selfish not to teach him simply because Harry wasn’t entirely comfortable with what that would entail.
…Yeah, that would be a douche move from his part. What if a time came where Pandora needed to do something only Harry could, but he hadn’t bothered to teach him?
What if someone lost their life because of something as stupid as that?
Players and NPCs were supposed to be able to resurrect, but that could be different in this new world. It wasn’t a risk Harry was willing to take. If death was as permanent as it was supposed to be, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
Sighing with resignation, he looked at the time —still too early! — and decided he may as well get to it right now, since there was still time to kill. As much as he was tempted to postpone it…
“…alright Pandora, let’s practice apparition once more,” Harry said while placing a hand on the guardian’s shoulder, “take us to the 8th floor, Rubedo’s area.”
“Rubedo’s? I see, indeed! Very well Harry-sama, it shall be done!” Pandora exclaimed confidently, and Harry mildly wondered what the hell was going through the guardian’s head, before the familiar sensation of apparition took a hold of him.
With a loud Crack! they appeared on a particular area of the dessert. More specifically, the one that was completely opposite to Rubedo’s location.
“You don’t even know where her place is, do you?” Harry sighed, which made Pandora laugh loudly. Merlin, did his laugh really sound like that? Or was it just Pandora’s poor imitation?
“I have no idea!”
“…you could have asked.”
“I wanted to try. Are we close?”
Harry snorted and shook his head negatively, before apparating to Rubedo’s location without a word, his hand still on Pandora’s shoulder.
They arrived silently on top of a ‘mountain’ of sand, one that moved seemingly at random all over the 8th floor.
“Harry!” the child exclaimed happily upon spotting him, completely ignoring the doppelganger as she ran directly at him. Huh, how did she manage to differentiate them?
Internally shrugging, Harry grinned and crouched down in response, scooping her up in his arms with ease as she laughed delightfully.
“How have you been?”
“Good!”
“Not causing trouble to your elder sisters, right?” he said with a pointed look, which made her giggle childishly.
“I haven’t been caught!” was the honest response, which only made Harry grin wider.
Tabula had practically redone her entire personality thanks to Harry’s input, so he considered himself to be something like her co-creator. It was thus, inevitable that he would smile proudly at her mischievous nature.
“That’s the spirit,” he muttered while ruffling her hair, before turning to Pandora again, “by the way, have you guys met before?”
“Nu-huh.”
“Never had such luck, Harry-sama. Hello little lady!” Pandora greeted amiably, still looking like Harry, and waved in greeting with an exaggerated motion, “I’m Pandora’s Actor, the Guardian of the Treasury, and creation of Momonga-sama!”
“Hiiii~,” she waved back energetically, before turning towards Harry again, “did you come to play?”
“Hmm, perhaps later. First, I sort of— uh, need an honest answer… Rubedo, Pandora, can I count with you guys?”
At their affirmative answer, Harry nodded and asked directly, “Welp, if I told you I’ve defeated a whole dungeon by myself, would you believe me?”
“Not really!” Pandora saluted as enthusiastic as ever.
“Will that be my next bed time story?” Rubedo asked simply, blinking innocently at him.
“Focus Rubedo, focus. And Pandora, can you stop imitating my appearance for a moment? I’ll tell you once we reassume the testing, yeah? Ok, good. Now, if I were to tell you—”
About the defeat of several Guilds of level 100 players.
About some of his strongest skills and spells.
About the best results of his investigations.
As expected… they didn’t believe a single word. It was normal, considering Harry’s experiences were too different from their understanding on how things should work, they probably couldn’t even picture it as real scenarios.
“Thanks guys, I needed to hear that,” Harry said sincerely. It made him aware of how necessary demonstrating his abilities was, if he wanted the freedom to act as needed without making the others worry.
“Are you ok Harry?”
“Yeah, no worries! I just have a little favor to ask now. Say… How would you feel about a sparring session?” Harry asked tentatively with a small shrug, trying to keep things light.
Pandora’s Actor tilted his head confusedly; while Rubedo’s expression quickly changed from concern to uncertainty.
Harry knew her dislike for unnecessary fights, but there was no one else he could ask for a friendly spar.
He needed to have a spar with someone Nazarick denizens could recognize as challenging if he wanted to show them a bit of his true abilities, which limited his options to Momonga, Rubedo and… well, Jald.
Fighting with Momonga —even if only in a friendly spar — could rub some NPCs the wrong way, he didn’t want them to think they were seriously trying to inflict any harm on each other. That and, honestly, that fight would be over before it even started. It wasn’t challenging at all considering Harry could annulate all long-range magic on the area, which was Momonga’s specialty.
Fighting with Jald could lead the NPCs to believe he was facing real danger, not to mention the issue with locations, since Jald would have to come to the Coliseum — and boy, would that be something to discuss. The simple thought of trying to convince the Guardians that he would be bringing a very powerful, very dangerous guest to the 6th floor was enough to give him a headache. The alternative— of having a spar on Jald’s dungeon— was equally troublesome.
By process of elimination, only Rubedo could help him out.
“That doesn’t sound like fun.”
“We wouldn’t harm each other, I was thinking of using [Translocation Damage]” Harry explained softly, patting her head comfortingly, “That way any hit will take MP instead of HP, so we don’t really hurt anybody. What’cha think?”
Rubedo seemed somewhat relieved at that suggestion, but she still frowned indecisively.
“Harry, why do you need a spar?” she said seriously, all traces of childishness momentarily disappearing.
“Because… I’ve been hiding the extent of my skills, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I want everyone to understand better what I can do, so they don’t worry or do risky things on my behalf,” Harry tried to summarize, smiling sadly at her.
“You’ve been… lying?”
“Lying? not exactly, I just…. eh… well, I guess is kinda like lying, yeah. That’s why I want to come clean. It’s the right thing to do,” he shrugged helplessly, bending to let Rubedo down.
“…Okay, then.”
“Really? You don’t have to—”
“It’s ok. The one that runs out of MP first would lose?”
“Considering we’ll be using it as if it were HP, I guess yeah—”
“Then it shouldn’t take too much time,” Rubedo said matter-of-factly, almost dismissively as she nodded to herself.
Huh, she probably thought Harry was at disadvantage.
Harry relied on magic to fight, while Rubedo could easily focus on close-range sparring and rely on stamina. It meant that Harry would be losing MP points just by attacking and defending, while Rubedo’s MP would only get lower if Harry managed to land a hit on her.
Considering her pacifist nature, she was probably thinking on ending the fight by making him deplete his MP reserves, simply evading without her even having to lift a finger at him. That wasn’t going to work, honestly, and it would be cheating if he allowed her to spar with that as her main strategy.
“I’d like to add a condition, if you don’t mind?” Harry asked while sitting down on the sand, so he was more at her level, “at least 30% of the MP lost should be by the opponent landing a hit.”
Rubedo pouted childishly, in the way she did when she was ‘caught’ red-handed, before nodding with resignation.
“Thanks kiddo. There’s honestly no need to hold back with me, you know?”
“…mm-hmm.” Rubedo didn’t seem convinced at all, which made Harry sigh internally. This is exactly the kind of thing he needed to fix. He needed to have his Guild trust him when he said he could do something, and that wasn’t going to happen until he showed that his self-confidence was, very, very well-funded.
He probably wouldn’t be able to convince her on that with just words though.
“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Harry said with a wink, ruffling Rubedo’s hair affectionally before standing up. She giggled, raising her hands and making grasping motions at him until he complied and picked her up again.
Was he spoiling her? Perhaps. Was he going to stop? Hell no.
“Pandora, pay attention to the spar and note down whatever you see me doing. I want to see how many things you can learn just by watching, yeah?”
Pandora, who had silently witnessed their conversation, raised a hand to his forehead, military-like.
“You can count on me!”
“Great. Now, as for the organization… hmm, let’s go get Albedo before we pay Momonga a visit, he’s probably still experimenting after all,” Harry muttered to himself, placing a hand on Pandora’s shoulder before silently disappearing from the 8th floor.
It was better not to drag Momonga into this yet, at least not until everything was ready.
— Momonga —
In the end, Momonga and Harry were just killing time while Jarvis interrogated the prisoners on the 5th Floor. They needed to understand, to know how many World items the human prisoners knew about, before deciding on their next course of action.
Thus, Momonga stood silently in the hallway, simply staring at the door that led to Harry’s room.
He couldn’t postpone this any longer. This room— if he could just understand the limits of it — it could help them out on the long run regarding consumable materials, which would mean they would be able to use them more on fights.
Which may be necessary to get the World items, if their prisoners actually knew of any.
With that in mind, he had come to perform a few tests. Harry had readily agreed when he asked —although somewhat distractedly, since Harry was busy planning on what to do with Pandora — so Momonga told the NPCs not to use this room for the day.
But now he couldn’t decide…. how should he begin the test?
On second thought, did he even need to decide that? What would happen if he just settled for thinking: I wish to understand how this room works?
It sounded lazy, even to his own ears, but in the end Momonga decided to try that first. What was the worst that could happen? The handle wouldn’t turn, and he would be denied access, at most.
Placing a skeletal hand on the handle, he was surprised to hear the soft ‘click’ that signaled his request had been accepted, and tentatively opened the door.
At first glance, there was nothing of note in the room. There wasn’t any kind of furniture, decorations, or ornaments. The only thing that stood out in the bare room was a portrait hanging on the wall that was furthest away from the entrance. Momonga went in, walking carefully towards the — snoring? —portrait, blinking repeatedly at it.
The man in the painting —was it really moving? — looked remarkably like Harry.
“Hi there.”
Momonga immediately took a step back. Fuck, the painting even sounded like Harry.
“… um, Harry?”
“…Yeah?”
“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! Did I trap you in a painting? I just wanted to— shit, shit, how did—”
“Pfft, of course he’s not trapped in a bloody painting!” the portrait exclaimed amusedly, at the same time it made a calming motion with his hands, “do you even— woops, now that I think of it, probably not. Ok, long story short, I am the ‘Harry’ he was when the painting was done, that is to say, when Harry was 28 years old. I have his memories, likes and dislikes, and generally just what used to be his manner of thinking, but I’m not him. Does that make sense?”
Like hell it does!
“Y-you— um, where did you even come from? There was nothing in Yggdrasil like… a moving painting.” Was this one of those things Harry did when everyone else logged out of the game?
“Yggdrasil? Um, no, I am part of his original world. I’m normally stored inside a bag, hanging around his neck, have you seen it?”
Momonga recalled the pea-sized bag, that was obviously larger in the inside than on the outside, not for the first time wondering just how many things traveled inside that thing.
“Yeah. But if you’re— why are you here then?”
The portrait shrugged, staring at the simple, otherwise bare room with mild interest, “No idea, no one is supposed to be able to take me out but him. What is this place— ohh wait, I recognize those symbols! Nice, is this a Room of Requirement? How neat! All the worlds need one, if you ask me.”
What symbols? The walls and ceiling are bare.
“What symb— wait a minute… so you know how this room works?”
“Like the back of my hand.”
“Oh.”
Well, at least that explained why the portrait was here. He didn’t know what to do now though, how odd would it be to ask explanations from a painting? A… somehow, past-Harry?
Actually, perhaps that was just what he needed. Perhaps he could get some answers from him, about things that his friend was more reluctant to speak about.
“How old is Harry? Currently, I mean,” Momonga settled for his first question. Harry always refused to answer that one.
The portrait looked around, as if to make sure the room was empty, before grinning conspiratorially and leaning forward. Momonga subconsciously mimicked the action so his face was quite close to the painting.
“Older than 28.”
Fuck, this was Harry alright.
Whatever doubt Momonga may have had was washed away as he groaned, the portrait chuckling at him.
“You have his terrible sense of humor.”
“I’d like to think it’s not that bad. Honestly though, I don’t really know his current age… hm, scratch that, I don’t know many things at all. I have the memories, knowledge, and personality he had when I was painted, which I admit was too long ago. He updates me from time to time, narrating stories, experiences, and lessons learned, but it's not the same as actually living through those, you know?”
The portrait shrugged apologetically at him, and Momonga frowned in thought — or would have, if his face moved at all.
“But then— wait, do you even know who I am?”
Had the portrait been speaking so carelessly with someone he didn’t know? That wasn’t something Harry would do. This wasn’t normal.
“Oh yeah, Momonga, right? Harry’s last update was about Yggdrasil, he had joined a small group with an odd name… Nine’s Own Goal, I believe? You’re part of it, I’m sure.”
A part of Momonga relaxed, knowing this portrait wouldn’t just speak with anybody, but was saddened at the thought that it would only recognize the original members of the small clan.
Quickly deciding to mend that, he dived in an explanation of the Guild with 42 members, Ainz Ooal Gown, feeling happy to be the one explaining something for once. The portrait seemed genuinely interested, so it wasn’t long before Momonga got lost in past memories, talking about his friends that may as well have been his family, and gradually going over to the NPCs and their transition to this new world.
He didn’t realize how much time had passed, lost in his reverie, so he practically jumped when the door opened with a creak.
“Everything ok here? I’ve been trying to [Message] you for the last— holly shit! Why are you here?!”
The real Harry had stopped mid-step, looking accusingly at the portrait, who grinned in response.
“The room stole me, obviously. You know, I tried to brush off the summon, but in the end I couldn’t resist. Don’t fault me though, I was simply framed.”
Harry groaned, covering his eyes in apparent shame before tentatively turning to look at Momonga.
“I’m so sorry, that was the phase when I thought puns where funny.”
“They are!” The portrait seemed affronted, but the real Harry just gave him an unimpressed look. Momonga nodded sympathetically.
“Right,” Harry rolled his eyes, before turning to face Momonga again, “what exactly did you ask for, that brought that guy here? He really isn’t supposed to leave my bag, you know?”
“Well, I don’t really remember the wording, but I literally just asked to know more about the room.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief, humming while looking around the room, seemingly searching for something.
“So, the runes overpowered the protective wards I have on my bag? That doesn’t sound right… unless it considers— ugh, I basically stole from myself? The bag is protected to respond only to me, but I was the one to make the runes in this room, so it’s still my magical signature… damn, I will have to correct that.”
“What an idiotic mistake, you clearly weren’t in the right frame of mind.”
Momonga laughed at the disgruntled face Harry made, still feeling in high spirits. It was nice, talking about his Guild to someone was the best way to make his good humor surface, it seemed. He rather liked portrait-Harry in that regard.
“Hey 3D me, can I stay? Sleeping in a bag is kind of boring, if you ask me,” the portrait pleaded, even going so far as to clap his palms together pleadingly. Harry muttered something that sounded remarkably like “drama queen,” but nodded all the same.
“I guess… you could stay here for a while. The NPCs could use someone to talk to, from time to time, when Momonga and I aren’t here. Just don’t say anything stupid.”
“Anything stupid,” was the immediate response, the portrait smirking cheekily at Harry.
“Pfft, now I remember why you always stay in the bag,” Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before turning around to leave the room, “Ah, wait, I still haven’t—hm, although it’s not like it’s ready yet. Agh, whatever, Momonga, can you meet me at your office? Give me a call once you’re done speaking with the portrait, yeah?”
Not ready yet…? Was Harry preparing something about his tests with Pandora?
Momonga nodded, mildly wondering if he should go with Harry to his office instead of staying, before deciding that the portrait was more interesting. Perhaps the portrait could help him understand better… at least until whatever Harry was planning was ready.
“Let me know once it’s ready, I’ll go directly with the ring.”
“Will do. And you, stop it with the puns!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It must have been a sketch of your imagination.”
Harry groaned one last time and closed the door indignantly with a loud thud.
“…You never used puns with me,” Momonga said lightly, thinking back on the time they had spent speaking.
“I just do it to annoy him, I grew out of that phase shortly after it started. There are only so many puns for painting, after all,” the portrait grinned unapologetically, and Momonga laughed at the confession.
Yeah, he liked portrait-Harry alright.
But in the end, he didn’t have much time to speak with it, not enough to ask any important questions at least, so he settled for just asking about how the portrait itself was made.
It was interesting to say the least. It seemed Harry’s world had a custom, where most wizards and witches would pose for a portrait before they reached the thirties, and the image would be imbedded with a copy of memories — how was that even possible? — up to that point of their life.
There was also more complicated magic involved, something about the way of thinking, something about the similarities with ghosts, something about adding new memories after the portrait’s completion, but all of that went over his head as the portrait explained using terminology he knew nothing about. A common mistake real-Harry made regularly, actually. It was the reason Momonga never could quite get his head around—
“Time’s up! All’s good to go, so stop gossiping and come to the office,” Harry’s voice resounded, which was odd since he hadn’t listened to the tingling sound of [Message]. Momonga sighed, mildly nervous about whatever Harry had prepared, before pushing it to the back of his mind.
No sense worrying about something he didn’t even know yet.
With that thought, he bid farewell to the portrait and left the room, taking a minute to straighten his robes before activating the ring of Ainz Ooal Gown to appear directly in his office.
Harry was sitting down in one of the office’s chairs, arms crossed in an odd show of reluctance. He stopped talking with Albedo to give Momonga a sheepish look — this couldn’t be good — while the Guardian Overseer bowed in greeting from her place at Harry’s side, a similar reluctant smile on her face.
…where was Pandora? This was about him, wasn’t it?
“I apologize if I made you wait. Are we waiting for… someone else?” he asked as he approached the pair, not sure if Pandora was to join them or not.
“Nah, we were just waiting for you,” Harry answered simply, making a hand motion to invite him to sit down.
This really couldn’t be good.
Slowly, Momonga sat down on the offered seat, looking at Harry and Albedo questioningly.
“…what is it?”
“It’s nothing bad, no need to sound so worried,” Harry said lightly with a dismissive gesture, “I just wanted you to know that— er, well, you know the NPCs worry when we’re out of Nazarick, yes?”
This really, really couldn’t be good.
“…Yeah?”
“Well, I was thinking, part of it must be because they’ve never seen us in a real fight, so they don’t know the extent of our skills. That’s one of the reasons I’ll be engaging with Rubedo in a small spar, get a little flashy!” Harry playfully made finger guns at him, obviously trying to lighten up the words.
Momonga opened his mouth to reply, but Harry didn’t give him the chance and immediately continued, “We’ve taken precautions of course. The coliseum has been warded heavily so no attacks accidently get out, there’s massive surveillance around it so the NPCs can watch from their respective floors without having to get crowded in the 6th floor, and Rubedo and I will be using [Translocation Damage] to avoid any real injuries. The first to run out of MP loses.”
Harry had hurried the explanation as if it were a band-aid, the faster it was removed the better.
Momonga stared silently at his friend. There was no way the worry of the NPCs was the only motivation for such an event, even more so when they were waiting for Jarvis to finish the interrogation regarding the World items.
And Rubedo, of all people? Seriously? Touch-Me wouldn’t win against her, even using his full World-Champion equipment, so what was Harry even thinking?
Silently counting on his head to calm down, he took a deep breath before asking “… you said there were several reasons?”
Harry’s smile became more genuine as he nodded, “the tests I ran with Pandora have something to do with this too. It’s the reason I’m the one sparring, and not you.”
Well, he could have started with that!
“What did you discover?” Momonga asked with more interest, arms uncrossing as he adopted a more relaxed posture.
He listened attentively as Harry described the different short tests done in the Treasury, the conclusion he had arrived at, and the reason he had decided on a spar to ‘train’ Pandora on his possibly-new skillset. It seemed he had created a temporary link with the doppelganger, so Pandora would be able to listen Harry’s spell-incantations as he fought.
It made sense, to kill two birds with one stone. This way, Harry would be ‘teaching’ Pandora, and the NPCs would feel more reassured. Momonga couldn’t help but feel anticipation about the encounter too, wondering what kind of non-Yggdrassil magic his friend was going to use.
He still didn’t understand why Rubedo was chosen as sparring partner; but figured he may as well just let it pass. Witnessing a match would be better and faster than asking portrait-Harry on his friend’s skills, certainly.
“Very well, and the arena is ready?”
“Yeah, we got everything running before calling you, so you could take your time with your own test. Albedo here was great, I honestly didn’t think it would be ready so soon!” Harry added, patting the guardian’s arm gratefully. Albedo seemed to be positively gleaming at the praise.
“I live to serve!”
Harry seemed torn at that answer, but in the end simply hummed, and repeated, “you’re really something else. Thank you, Albedo. Now then, shall we?”
Momonga nodded silently, happy this morning had been so productive.
— Rubedo —
She balanced her whole weight on the balls of her feet, swaying lightly as she waited for Harry and her sister to arrive. Bored, she started to hum a random tune, looking around distractedly for the tenth time.
They were taking too long.
Placing her scythe on her shoulder, she wondered if this really was ok. Albedo-nee had coordinated the magic involved, so the whole dungeon could see this spar, but… was the effort really worth it? The fight probably wouldn’t last long anyways.
Harry was at obvious disadvantage, since the high-tier spells used a lot of MP, but there was nothing else he could do to cause ‘damage’ against her high defense stats. As if that wasn’t enough, Rubedo’s proficiency was at close-range physical attacks, so there was no way Harry could let this fight fall under her area of expertise.
He would run out of MP in nothing but a few minutes, surely.
“Hey kiddo! Sorry it took so long.”
“Harry!” she exclaimed excitedly, mildly surprised at his sudden appearance. She felt the silent agitation of the NPCs sitting on the coliseum, when they heard her address him without a title, but she pointedly ignored them.
Rubedo couldn’t understand why the others added a “-sama” with him. She remembered, even if only in glimpses, that Tabula-sama had called him that once, and that it made Harry groan and feel ill. She didn’t want him to feel bad, so she had tried to tell this secret to her sisters, but they had only smiled and rubbed her head affectionally.
So what if no one believed her? She knew what she had seen, and Harry always smiled gratefully at her, so removing the title was surely ok!
“Spar starts at Albedo’s signal. You ready little one?”
“Yeah!”
“Remember, come at me with everything you’ve got—”
“Nah-ah!” Rubedo interrupted him, giggling when Harry made a face at her.
“Pfft, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Harry exclaimed with mock offense, his right arm summoning a wand from thin air, as his whole posture tensed.
Similarly, she took her scythe with both hands, lowering her posture to boost her speed on her first attack. He won’t know what hit him!
A loud clank! signaled the start of the mock tournament, and Rubedo rushed forward as if a spring had been suddenly released.
The idea was to fulfill Harry’s condition — that at least 30% of the MP lost should be caused by taking hits — on the first part of the battle. After that, they could play tag until he naturally ran out of MP, and then—
“Too predictable,” Harry scolded her, his tone oddly serious, as she felt something hit her side— coming right from her blind spot.
There was no pain, the [Translocation Damage] ensured that, but based on the way her MP points drastically reduced, whatever he had done was strong.
“What—”
“Focus. Don’t dwell on what’s already happened.”
Harry was suddenly in front of her again, but this time she had enough time to react and block—
And block.
And block.
Harry was not supposed to be good at close-range combat, so why was she forced to play at defense?
“I’m basically your co-creator kid. I know you well enough to predict what you will do,” Harry explained as if reading her thoughts, still attacking without pause, “on the other hand, you don’t know a thing about what I can or can’t do.”
There was a pause as Harry fired a particularly strong spell that she blocked with her scythe, her feet now grounded on the spot due to the impact.
“Do you still believe you have the luxury of not giving your best?”
Another loud hit made her lower her head, a soft sob escaping her trembling lips.
As expected, the sound made Harry pause in his attack, which gave her the opening she needed.
Watching as his face morphed from concern to one that could only be described as ‘you little shit’ she couldn’t help but giggle, as she landed a direct slash at his abdomen.
It was strong enough to send him flying to the opposite side of the battlefield, her scythe now shinning with dark, misty energy. Since he had received a direct hit, the “curse” her scythe inflicted could now be activated whenever she chose to.
“Ugh, can’t believe I fell for— woah!”
She missed the second hit by nothing but a hair, as Harry barely managed to move on time. He tried to move away, place some distance between them, but she chased right after him. Now the one forced to a defensive stance was him!
But even then, her scythe couldn’t land another hit.
Quickly getting tired of having her attacks blocked, she decided to active her time-limited skill [Premonition]. She was now able to see the most-probable immediate future, which allowed her to correct the direction of her blade in time to land an attack.
Two, three, she got as far as four consecutive hits before Harry disappeared with a loud Crack!, her scythe impaling the ground where he had used to be.
“Void Seer,” Harry’s voice resounded from somewhere at her left, but by the time she moved he had disappeared again with a Crack!
…her sight was different now. She couldn’t use her skill anymore?
She hadn’t even known there was something that could cancel it. Unbeknown to her, that wasn’t Yggdrassil magic, but one Harry’s world had developed to counter the Demiguise’s precognitive sight.
“Fiendfyre.” The voice now came from somewhere above, so she raised her head just in time to see a serpent made of fire suddenly approaching, mouth open wide as if ready to swallow her whole.
…what was Harry doing?
It was impossible for someone to be completely immune to something. Even if an NPC, like Demiurge for example, was equipped to be highly resistant to fire, if the magic surpassed a certain limit, it would still cause him damage.
Similarly, it was impossible for someone to be immune to all elemental attacks. One could only specialize in developing resistance against two, at most, and that was already taking into account the defense equipment.
… or well, she should say it was almost impossible.
A side effect of the material she was crafted with, of the World item Tabula-sama had used, was that Rubedo was immune to any and all elemental attacks, no matter their strength. She should be able to stand unaffected even against a super-tier elemental attack, and there was no way Harry didn’t know that.
So what was his plan?
Curiosity picked, she stood still and decided to receive it.
The flames licked warmly at her skin like a tender embrace, confirming that, indeed, it couldn’t cause any damage. What was the point of—
“Change of heart.”
Too hot! too hot! her mind uselessly supplied as she kicked the ground, escaping from the serpent of fire that had, somehow, become unbearably hot. A quick check on her MP points also revealed that it had caused major damage, even if she hadn’t sensed it as pain.
How? Why? Her body was made with a World item that protected her, the only way to surpass it would be with another World item, but she couldn’t see any equipped on Harry—
“Focus on the present Rubedo,” Harry admonished her again as he fired a curse that knocked the air out of her lungs, the impact forcing her to fall back.
A multitude of spells fell like rain, some dodged, others blocked, and a few impacting heavily on her body, all the while she tried to either avoid or dispel the fire serpent that was still going after her, but without much success.
At some point, the ground got covered with electricity, and she was forced to fly around and avoid touching it.
At some point, the gravity around her increased, and her movements grew heavy. It seemed she had been cursed, because the invisible weight followed her regardless of how much she moved around the battlefield.
At some point, Harry had created a golem using nothing but the arena’s ground, the earth-based creature had joined the fire serpent on its efforts to catch her.
Harry seemed to be focusing on elemental attacks, as if to mock her newfound vulnerability.
She couldn’t hear Harry’s murmurs since the distance was too wide, but she supposed those were simply the incantations of the spells he was using—
Ugh!
Her vision got a little blurry, so she blinked rapidly to dispel it, trying to focus on —
To focus on…
Something was odd, Harry’s aura was… odd. Dangerous, more so than usual, she could notice it had a certain weight to it. Had it always been like that? It was different. Why?
The Supreme Beings had always felt special — superior — all NPCs could feel that, but this… what was this?
She could feel something deep in her core snap. Like a flipped switch, her whole strategy shifted, her mind now regarding Harry as a true threat, someone on even ground with her in terms of skills.
He had told her not to hold back, so this should be ok.
Harry’s next spell was interrupted as black, smoking chains trapped him; the serpent made of fire— Fiendfyre? — finally dissipating with a dying hiss, the golem collapsing with a loud thud, the electricity covering the floor fading away.
Her scythe’s curse.
Landing a single hit on the enemy was enough for her to win most battles, because the scythe’s dark energy could completely paralyze her foes. It was like a version of [Time stop] but one that could not be interrupted, no matter what. The curse got stronger the more hits she landed with her scythe, and she had managed to get quite a few in the beginning of their spar.
Harry would be frozen until he received another attack.
…He had said not to hold back.
Throwing any remaining doubts out of her mind, she gritted her teeth and prepared her strongest attack, intent on finishing their fight.
The reason not even the strongest Supreme Being, Touch Me-sama, could rival against her, was because her ultimate attack was very, very unfair.
“Broken,” she had heard Tabula-sama said once when talking about it, voice full of pride, and the memory of that moment was enough to make her grin with delight.
“Merlin,” Harry muttered wide-eyed, probably realizing what she intended to do, so she smiled apologetically.
“It will be over soon,” she said comfortingly, knowing that the most merciful way to finish a battle was to grant the enemy a swift death—
No, no, this was Harry. Not death, just…. no MP remaining. That was the point of this exercise, right? No MP left.
“Oh sweet Merlin.”
And this should be enough to get rid of his remaining MP, even if it was still mostly full.
“I’ll give you a get-well hug later?”
“Hah! Certainly appreciated sweetie,” Harry said with a resigned sigh, body relaxing in apparent defeat even if his gaze never left her wings.
Her bright, usually white wings made of rays of light, had turned a very dark, polluted red. They had also grown so much they were covering the entire battlefield, as if to embrace it.
A red blanket of death.
She had the capacity to cover a whole floor of Nazarick, so restricting the enemy wasn’t really necessary — she didn’t even need to know their location, or how many there were, honestly — but had chosen to use the one-time curse of her scythe as precaution.
She didn’t like it when Harry admonished her, and he had said not to underestimate him…. and that she could fight at full force.
So this was ok, right?
She sighed, letting the energy travel freely through her wings, their color changing until they turned black, with purple patterns adorning them.
The side effect of her World item — immunity to elemental attacks — was… convenient, but certainly not its main effect.
No, its true strength relied on this. She was dangerous because she could surpass Victim’s strongest Martyr skill, without having to sacrifice herself in the process.
“…I must admit, I didn’t expect it so soon,” Harry said amiably, as if he wasn’t about to get completely vaporized by her ultimate skill, “I thought I’d have to, you know, get my point across that I’m a deserving, challenging foe.”
“I didn’t know elemental attacks could harm me until today,” Rubedo replied honestly, her gaze completely focused on Harry’s calmed expression, “and you attacked at close range, even though that’s my forte. And you kept up with me.”
And you still look too relaxed for a beaten enemy, her mind supplied anxiously.
“Hmn, I supposed I did.”
“You can’t do anything against this. It’s over.”
Whether she was saying that to convince him, or herself, she wasn’t sure.
There was something… wrong with this. Her instincts were telling her to active it, to finish him off before it was too late, even though she knew she needed a little bit more time to fully charge her wings.
…what was she missing?
“I can’t, eh? You know, you’re really smart, Rubedo,” Harry said with something akin to pride, which made her feel a weird mix of joy and confusion, “had I fought anyone else, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have taken me seriously this soon into the battle.”
Something was wrong. His magic, his aura… was odd.
“But you realized. Even if subconsciously, you noticed.”
Why did she feel like she wasn’t going to succeed?
“Do you see me like Jald does?”
Who was Jald?
“Do you see me as a Raid Boss?”
…Raid Boss?
Something in her mind finally clicked, puzzle finally sorted. So that’s what was different—
Tap.
Sometime in the future, Rubedo would look back at this moment, repeatedly, still trying — and failing — to understand what had happened.
In one moment, her wings fully charged, and the entire battlefield was instantly demolished.
The wards ensured that the coliseum itself remained untouched — and shouldn’t that had been the first signal that Harry’s magic was something else? — but no precautions had been taken to protect the ground itself.
Her attack had been so focused, on such a small area, that it didn’t only destroy the battlefield. She had gotten through, creating a hole that led deeper into Nazarick, the 7th floor now visible. The river of lava was now flowing into the crater she had accidentally created, no doubt damaging the structure of the floor itself.
I’ll have to apologize to Demiurge, was the last thought that crossed her mind before the battlefield got covered again, this time by a white light instead of the pure darkness her wings had previously created.
“Karma.” Harry’s voice reached her from… somewhere. She didn’t even have enough time to pinpoint his location before the white light blinded her.
It must have been mirror magic; the kind that doubled the damage of the last attack issued. There was no other explanation for how she had lost so soundly, so fast.
In a sense… she had guessed it right. The match had really been over in nothing but a few minutes.
— Harry —
That would have been a very nasty blow, had Harry not known to prepare for it.
He cringed at the sight of the — now even more damaged — 7th floor, mentally admonishing himself for not warding the ground. His idea had been to interrupt Rubedo’s attack when she inevitably tried to use it — and he would have done as much if he had sensed any NPCs under him — but in the end, he had decided this would be a flashier, if albeit fast, ending to their spar.
But damn, the damage was extensive. The second wave of energy had almost gotten through the 7th floor too, probably stopping just a hair’s away of reaching the 8th. He was thankful the NPCs were gathered on the opposite side of the floor, to watch the spar on one of the mirror-like TVs Albedo had helped him set, otherwise someone could have gotten hurt.
…He probably should apologize to Demiurge though. And take care of the reparations himself, so Nazarick didn’t repair itself using the money gathered on the Treasury. Momonga would kill him if that happened—
“Harry?” Rubedo muttered softly, incredulous eyes blinking up at him. Her wings were flashing in and out of existence, her MP points completely depleted.
He was carrying her like usual, both of them floating in the middle of the coliseum since there was no ground to stand on. It was as if he had just picked her up and this was just another day visiting the 8th floor.
“That’s me. How are you, kiddo?”
“What… was that?”
“That was me,” Harry repeated, softly chuckling at her disbelieving expression, “I warned you, didn’t I? Told you I conquered a dungeon on my own. That I can go alone against a whole Guild and still manage to be the last one standing.”
“…Ah. Those were not… stories?”
“Nope, just a hard-to-swallow truth. Can you fly on your own?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Ok, I’ll let you go for a bit, yes? I need to repair that,” Harry explained, pointedly looking at the disaster their spar had caused.
“Oki-doki,” Rubedo replied a little more naturally, seemingly starting to assimilate that, yes, the spar had ended just like that.
“Awesome. Gimme a sec.”
He lowered his position a bit, flying closer to the 7th floor so he could pay attention to the small details he was going to be repairing, and let his magic do the rest.
Focus, focus— fuck. Can’t remember how that pillar is supposed to stand. Was it really crooked like that, originally? Um…Demiurge would speak up if I missed something, right? Right.
Work mostly done on the 7th floor, he rose higher and repeated the process, slowly repairing the ground of the 6th floor that had been completely disintegrated. That was good in a sense though, since there had been no debris left to fall to the floor below.
Once the repairs were finished, Harry landed on the newly regenerated ground, making a hand motion for Rubedo to come down as well. Instead of landing though, Rubedo flew with open arms at him, and Harry was happy to note she wasn’t treating him any differently now. He had been worried she would become cautious around him.
And just like that, with Nazarick’s “strongest entity” in his arms, Harry finally glanced up and grinned at the place where the camera-like spell had been placed.
Sonorus.
“Now that our friendly spar is over, I’d like to have a word before we reach the end of this transmission, so please listen carefully,” Harry started, knowing that Albedo’s magic would be reaching her limit soon enough. It was better not to waste time.
“I… my power level can be compared to one of a Raid Boss,” he stated as firmly and directly as he could, “most of you are not aware of this, but before I joined this Guild, before I joined Ainz Ooal Gown, I used to regularly fight and win against other Guilds. Fighting alone, against groups that usually went from twelve and up to thirty Level-100 beings, I could still defeat them repeatedly. Even more, I could defeat them so many times I reduced several of them from Level 100 to Level 10 or below.”
Harry paused, letting his message sink through before continuing with, “Even among those of my level, I can handle my ground well enough. For those that are aware of Jald, of the dungeon Momonga and I visited yesterday, I want you to know that I single-handedly defeated them on a single round. The respect they feel towards me comes partially from that, because they know just how strong I can be.”
He intelligently chose to neglect the fact that he had completely used up his MP reserves, was very hurt in the process, and had ended up in a coma-like state for several days right after, to be able to somewhat recover.
“So please, and I really mean this, please don’t worry or act rashly in a dangerous situation. Whatever danger fate decides to throw at us, please trust me when I say I can handle it. I’m strong enough to protect myself, and those I care for.”
Momonga was going to be mad at him, considering this speech was about Harry’s own Raid Boss strength, instead of them both as “Supreme Beings”.
Then again, the bastard still owned him for not being honest with the NPCs regarding the whole adventuring plan, so Harry didn’t feel too guilty. It was implicit Momonga could take care of himself too, right? No biggie.
“If any of you are concerned— if any of you are worried about anything; about your fellow peers, about your respective floor, about items, about Nazarick itself, about your functions, about Momonga or myself. About anything,” Harry said seriously, trying really hard to get his message across, “the door’s always open, ok? We can sort it out together.”
Harry paused, interpreting the silence of the coliseum as contemplative, and smiled sincerely one last time.
“That’s all. Thanks for your hard work, I’ll see ya’ around,” Harry finished with a wink and a two-fingered salute, before disappearing from the arena with a purposely loud Crack!
And appearing on the VIP room of the coliseum, seemingly giving poor Momonga a bloody heart attack.
“Fucking hell!”
“Don’t swear in front of a child. Rubedo, you’re not allowed to say that.”
Rubedo huffed with a disappointed sound, inflating her cheeks adorably.
“Albedo, can you cut the transmission?”
“I’ve already done so, Harry-sama,” Albedo confirmed while extending her arms, so Harry complied and stepped closer, to give her little sister back.
“You’re the best! Thanks Albedo. How was the show?”
“Interesting. Very… eye-opening.” It was said as sweetly as usual, Albedo’s perpetual smile still firmly on place, which made Harry raise an eyebrow.
“Is that so? Hmn… do you think it will prevent others from worrying when we go out of the Tomb?” Harry asked before quickly adding, “be honest, please.”
Only Albedo and Momonga had been on the VIP room, so they had enough privacy for the Guardian Overseer to be truthful, right?
“It’s… not worry, per se. I can’t speak for everyone, but you…” Not worried? He had never seen Albedo look so concerned before.
The hesitant pause managed to gather the attention of everyone in the room, Momonga and Rubedo also completely focused on what she had to say. After a small moment, Albedo took a deep breath as if trying to gather the courage, before letting out a quick, “you’re too self-sufficient.”
What?
“Eh?” Momonga and Harry muttered at the same time, sharing a quick look before focusing on Albedo again.
The Guardian overseer huffed softly through her nose, wings flapping anxiously a couple of times before she lowered her gaze to the floor, seemingly unable to meet anyone’s gaze.
“We are here to serve you. You shouldn’t feel the need to do anything, because that’s our purpose. The reason we exist is so you can have a carefree, happy life—”
“You already do that,” Harry interrupted, raising both palms in a calming motion even though Albedo wasn’t looking at him, “we’re happy to have everyone here with us, and can leave the Tomb without worries because we know you guys are taking care of everything on our behalf.”
“That’s not— that’s…. not...”
“Why? Let me ask you something, and I need complete honesty here, yes? Please?” Harry waited until Albedo raised her head and nodded, “Ok. Do you think we should leave the world exploration to you guys?”
“Yes.”
“Nazarick’s safety?”
“Yes.”
“Alliances with the outside world?”
“Not needed, but we can do that if you so wish.”
“Patrolling of the floors?”
“Our responsibility.”
“Then what is our responsibility, as Supreme Beings?”
“Stay here… and lead?” Albedo seemed to hesitate on her answer for the first time.
“And if we do, and something goes south, it’s our responsibility to correct it, yes?”
“No, you don’t have to— we can, we wouldn’t let anything go wrong—”
“Albedo,” Momonga spoke for the first time, seemingly catching up on what Harry wanted to say, “you’re all— I mean, all of you, the Guild creations, my friend’s legacy… you’re all great, you are just the way you were always meant to be, but you’re not perfect.”
“We’re not perfect either,” Harry added, pointing to Momonga and himself, “something is bound to go wrong sooner or later, and that’s not anybody’s fault. As a Guild, all we have to do is trust each other and work together to solve whatever comes up, don’t you think?”
Albedo didn’t seem to fully agree, but nodded all the same.
“Come on, life would be boring without it’s up and downs. It’s ok for it to be imperfect, that’s just how it’s meant to be! All we expect, is for you guys to do your best, and be imperfect with us,” Harry added, placing an arm over Albedo’s shoulders in a sideway hug.
“Running risks is inevitable too. If we do nothing, if we remain safe but static, then the world outside will sooner or later catch up with us, which could pose a threat. Adventuring outside is also necessary,” Momonga added with a pensive voice, looking at the ceiling as if it held the answers to the universe.
“Yeah, that too. Don’t worry, once Momonga and I have a better grasp of what’s outside, we will start sending you guardians off in missions too, or allowing you to accompany one of us, whatever’s needed at the time. It’s just a matter of time, really.”
That seemed to be somewhat effective, judging by the way Albedo relaxed her shoulders, which made Harry inwardly grin.
He had suspected the NPCs worries were also heavily influenced on their perceived usefulness, so the prospect of adventuring out, doing missions, should put their mind more at ease.
“Of course, I apologize for my rude behavior—”
“It wasn’t rude Albedo.”
“Thanks for being honest with us.”
They both reassured almost at the same time. This continued for some minutes, as they tried to address the root cause of the worries the NPCs shared, and although it didn’t seem to achieve much, Harry knew this was just one of the first steps. The beginning of a new point of view for the NPCs in Nazarick.
After all was said and done on that front, Harry politely requested a minute alone with the Overlord, so they apparated — using their own means — into Momonga’s dinner room.
“So, what did you think of the match?” Harry asked as soon as he sat down, munching on one of the cookies that rested on a plate at the table.
“That— the whole thing was so, so broken!” Momonga let out exasperatedly, throwing his arms up in the air as if demanding an explanation to the heavens.
“You mean Rubedo, or me?”
“BOTH!”
After that, Momonga started off a rant on how many things he had noticed, how many had gone over his head — and Harry tried his best to explain those — and why the whole thing was unfair, but awesome.
Well, he didn’t say the last word exactly, but Harry understood it from the excited way the Overlord was using to ramble. It was almost as if they were back on Yggdrasil’s best days, when the Guild still had all of its members.
“This is so— it’s just, if Pandora can learn half of those things— just think about the possibilities!”
Yeah, Momonga seemed excited on the new discovery. This had been the right thing to do.
Harry stayed chatting for quite some time — until all the food of the table was gone, to be specific — before bidding farewell to his friend, claiming he needed to go back to his room for a moment.
All in all, everything had gone better than expected.
Satisfied by the turn of events, Harry walked back to his room for a quick rest. He didn’t need to sleep, but damn he wanted to, considering the magic he had consumed during the match made him feel tired. Resting should be the fastest — and without side effects — way to recover energy.
Throwing a lazy Tempus at thin air, he halted for a moment upon noticing the late hour, before reassuming his walk with a worried hum.
It was already afternoon.
Harry frowned with concern. This wasn’t normal, Jarvis usually wouldn’t take so long with a simple interrogation, so what could be keeping him?
Turning around a corner — he had finally reached the hallway that led to his room — Harry stopped in his tracks with a chocked gasp.
Once, twice— no, still there, no matter how many times he blinked.
Harry stared disbelievingly at the man in front of him.
Emerald eyes stared back at him tiredly, as the man played lightly with the gold chain around his neck — clearly showing it off to him — before entering Harry’s own room, the door closing with a resounding thud.
Fuck, fuckity, fuck.
What would make him use the bloody time-turner?