31 The 9th World Champion Tournament I

October 20, 2136. World: Midgard. Location: Central Runga – The Town of Und Ljósinn

Midgard.

From the tales of the Prose Edda, it was said that the dwelling place of humankind was formed from the ancient body of the great ancestral being, Ymir, who was said to be the first being in all of existence. The mythology further recounts how Odin and his brothers slayed the primordial Aurgelmir and forged the realm from its remains. And from Ymir's body, the three Æsir crafted the verdant world that was to be known as Midgard and seeded life on it by creating the first humans and granting them claim over the newly established realm.

The direct Nordic translation of Midgard credited the realm as 'Middle Enclosure' or Middle Earth, as it was later colloquialized in future texts and references. Appropriate, seeing as the realm was said to be tied within the center of the World Tree itself. The central realm of Yggdrasil by which branches and connects to the other eight realms.

Midgard was the cradle of mankind in Norse mythology. With such cultural significance, it was no surprise then that within the virtual world of YGGDRASIL, Players with inclinations towards Humanoid races naturally gravitated towards it and came to signify the virtual realm as their world.

From the very beginning, Midgard was taken as the main hub world for all Humanoid Players. Similar to how Helheim and the likes were considered the de facto central hub for Heteromorphic and Demi-human Players alike.

It was a rare occurrence to come across any Heteromorphic or Demi-human Players in Midgard's overworld. This notion was reinforced by the fact that the playable virtual realm catered exclusively to Players of Humanoid races. Much of the sprawling overworld from the dungeons, areas, and spawn towns was completely inaccessible to any other Player races but Humanoids. This deliberate design choice by the developers only served to reinforce the notion of Player-type superiority within the Humanoid Player community.

A narrative that was spun further by the fact that any Heteromorphic or Demi-human Players who happened to venture into the overworld were immediately targeted by bands of Humanoid Players and viciously hunted down on sight. It didn't matter if they were minding their own business or completing a quest; being a Heteromorph or Demi-Human in Midgard meant inviting PK at every turn. This blatant antagonization only served to deepen the divide and spread further resentment between the two communities.

Simply put, there was little reason why any Heteromorphic or Demi-human Player would ever be seen in Midgard.

On this day, however, there would be an exception.

Situated in the heart of Midgard, the grandest and most central region, was a magnificent port city that emulates the splendid landscapes of Sweden. The vast expanse of the region is characterized by the majestic Alps and gentle rolling hills that are adorned with stretches of lush green grasslands and picturesque plains. A massive port that connected to the coast of an ocean.

Und Ljósinn was the name of the massive sprawling city, and it was chosen to be where the 9th World Champion Tournament would be hosted.

The atmosphere in and around the city and its surrounding areas could only be described as vivacious and festive. Thousands upon thousands of Players of varying shapes and sizes swarmed the bustling town, filling the streets with their presence. The air bubbled with anticipation and excitement as colorful banners hung from above and rows of tents and vendors dotted the various inner plazas of the town.

A full-fledged festival was underway, and no expense had been spared to make this an unforgettable event for all to cherish in the years to come.

However, amidst the revelry and merriment, not all were merry.

Due to the tournament being hosted in Midgard, almost 92% of all Players present were Humanoid Players. Many within the Heteromorphic and Demi-Human communities naturally didn't bother to come, choosing instead to watch the tournament from the comfort of their own home, guild base, or elsewhere via broadcast. Much of this reasoning would be attributed to the fact that they'll be outnumbered and decided it would be safer to watch the tournament elsewhere and in comfort rather than deal with the hassle or put up with the discrimination by attending in person.

However, that wouldn't deter others from attending the event live. Those who were present chose to attend because they were either invited to cheer on those they knew, participants in the tournament, or simply because they wished to have a prime viewing experience and enjoy the festivities in person.

No matter the feud between the player base and communities, all tournaments and live events were open to everyone. Of course, that would hardly stop the majority of the Humanoid Players from actively harassing and going after others.

During Tournaments or other large-scale events, a designated lockdown zone was implemented to maintain order and safety. This specialized zone encompassed the entire vicinity of where a tournament or any similar event was to be held. Within this zone, Players were prohibited from activating any skills, spells, or items in any way, shape, or form, effectively rendering everything inert. Any damage sustained was all reduced to zero, akin to being in a Safe Zone. The implementation of this zone ensured that Players were unable to intentionally harm or PK one another during these special events.

Of course, that didn't mean trouble did not come a-knocking.

It was an effective solution, but far from perfect. For while they couldn't harm another Player, that wouldn't stop some people from getting physical with one another should tempers flare and egos clash.

Such was the case during a major tournament within the first year of YGGDRASIL's launch.

The egregious incident in question occurred when a group of Humanoid and Heteromorphic Players engaged in a massive brawl that escalated into a full-blown riot. The situation spiraled out of control, necessitating the intervention of the GMs themselves to quell the chaos. The incident came to be known as the Mass Banning by the player base due to all the bans the GMs handed out. It was reported that over 10,000 Players lost their accounts that day and were forced to start anew.

In the aftermath of the catastrophic event, word was passed up to the developers and executives, forcing their hand on the matter.

To prevent something like this from happening again, the developers implemented a two-fold security countermeasure in the form of an event ban. Should any Player get any funny ideas about breaking the rule or starting a ruckus, then they would be forcefully teleported to a high-level area and left to die. Furthermore, the developers created specialized NPCs called Riot Guards to act as an autonomous system and deterrent against potential rulebreakers. If the offender tried to respawn or re-enter the event zone, they would be immediately swarmed by the NPCs, all of whom possessed the [Invulnerability] status, and attacked on sight. This effectively barred them from the event should they risk dying and de-leveling ad infinitum until the event was over.

However, let it be known that the developers at Kaleidoscope Industry didn't earn their moniker of 'shitty devs' by simply being harsh.

They took it one step further by making it so that should a fight break out, all parties involved would be held accountable. Not just the instigators, but also the victim and any immediate bystanders within the vicinity, would suffer the penalty. A completely backward decision that punished both the guilty and the innocent alike.

When the update was rolled out, a majority of the users on both sides flocked to the forums to loudly clamor their opinions regarding the new implementation. Many people rightly pointed out that their system was too harsh and ripe for abuse, allowing for mass indiscriminate banning that hurt Players more than it helped. All it would take was one malicious person to cause a ruckus and a domino effect to ruin everyone's day. The player base collectively argued to walk back these changes.

The developers responded in record time, but not in the way the community thought they would. In a long community post, they basically stated that they would keep the changes but added that GMs would serve as overseers to help review and decide if action was needed or not. Additionally, they mentioned any intentional troublemaker would be shadow-banned from any future events and many other pointless platitudes to assuage the player community's concern.

But for those that were used to the shitty dev's modus operandi, they easily read between the lines. The basic message was essentially: "Don't be a dick and ruin the fun for everyone or else." The Players were to police themselves and be civil, or else suffer the developer's wrath.

How ironic, considering the shitty dev's track record.

Despite all their protests, the changes were kept, and there wasn't much they could do besides curse the shitty devs for their inane decisions.

What came as a surprise was that the system saw genuine success in keeping the peace for the most part. Of course, there were a few individuals who attempted to cause trouble, but those griefers were swiftly dealt with. The shadow of the guillotine loomed over all equally, and despite the intense animosity between the Humanoid, Heteromorphic, and Demi-human factions, none wanted to truly push their luck. In the end, everyone played nice, lest they all suffer the consequences.

Unfortunately, humans were nothing if not resilient beings. Even with these heavy restrictions, that wasn't going to stop some people from ruining others' enjoyment.

Located in one of the dozens of plazas that dominated the town of Und Ljósinn, a small party of a dozen or so Heteromorphs, a menagerie of different races and species, stood amongst a congregation of Humanoid Players. In particular, opposing them was a far larger party that was standing and blocking their way.

The small band of Heteromorphic Players, just moments ago, found themselves halted on their way to the stadium. They tried to move past them but were stonewalled by the larger party, effectively becoming a barricade that prevented them from moving forward. If that wasn't bad enough, this drew the attention of the surrounding Players as they flocked to the open square, eager to enjoy the show. This effectively boxed the smaller party in, trapping them in a confined space, unable to escape as they were jostled back and forth.

This had been going on for a few minutes. One needed only a glance to sense the animosity brewing between the two groups.

"Damn, whoever designed you must have been dared into it. I mean, who the hell would waste time and effort coding a model for a flying meat sack? A better question, who's the idiot that decided to make it their Player avatar?!" A taunting voice questioned aloud, drawing jeering laughter from himself and his friends.

The Player's words were directed towards the leader of the Heteromorphic party, a Beholder. The Heteromorphic Player took the form of a large floating eyeball with fleshy, coarse-red skin, numerous eyestalks, a mouth with fangs, and tentacles.

One of the members of his party, a metallic slime, thoroughly incensed by the Humanoid Player's badgering, rushed forward to give him a piece of his mind, only for the eldritch eye, Eye CU, to stop his friend.

"Big words, mocking someone by their appearance. The 21st century called, they want their antiquated discriminatory joke back." The Beholder retorted, his large cycloptic eye staring defiantly at the bullies.

"I call it how I see it, you giant meatball. If you've got something to say, then say it to my face. What's the matter? No balls? Oh, wait!" The Player gasped aloud, looking up and down, making a show of it before throwing his head back in a loud, obnoxious laugh.

One that drew further mocking support from the spectators all around them. Derision spewed from the sidelines as other voices joined in, with the small party forced to take the heckling. Eye CU was particularly incensed by the harassment thrown at his party members, and the fact that he could do little to stop it irked him like nothing else. They were vastly outnumbered, and he knew any attempt at violence would only lead to getting them kicked out of the event. Something he was keen to avoid, as all of his friends were eager to watch and enjoy the final World Champion Tournament in person, himself included, and he did not wish to ruin that for them.

Eye CU floated forward, trying to power his way through once more, only to be met by the Player's hand as he pushed him back. His friends caught his back, but yet again, their attempt to leave was halted, and the Beholder could only grimace.

It was learned early on that certain actions, such as pushing or shoving, were the utmost limit that a Player could do without flagging the attention of the Riot Guards' system. Anything further would be considered 'hostile intent', a fact that both sides knew, and one the hecklers was all too happy to abuse while keeping the Heteromorphic party trapped.

The Beholder's many eyes flicked to the skies above for a second, waiting to see if there would be any sign of an intervention, but there was none.

Eye CU's grimace only deepened.

'Those GMs are sure taking their sweet time getting here.' He thought.

Normally, in a situation such as this, the GMs would've gotten involved already and broken them up, along with issuing a few threats of ban for such obstruction.

The only thing that he could think of for their delay was the massive number of attendees present. With a tournament as grand in scale as the 9th World Champion Tournament, it wouldn't be surprising if one or two problems slipped past their immediate notice. That, or the GMs were well aware, and they were just sitting back and enjoying the show for as long as they could before interfering.

He scoffed internally. Knowing the shitty devs, he was willing to bet on the latter.

A particularly rude comment later saw tension heightened. Eye CU and another member of their party, HappiBun, had to physically hold back their friend from rushing forward to beat the opposing party's face in.

"Boss, lemme at them!" The metallic slime, Soft Death, struggled.

"Easy, easy!" Happibun whispered, holding him back. "If you attack them, then you're going to give them exactly what they're after."

"Well, I say, let's give it to them. Take as many of them down with us as we can!"

"You're crazy!" Said another party member, shaking his head. "Eye-san worked hard to get those seats for all of us. If we get kicked out, then it'll be nothing."

"At this rate, we're going to miss the tournament entirely. If that's the case, then let's return the favor." Soft Death argued.

A part of Eye CU was tempted. He was willing to say screw it and follow his party member's lead. Sure, it would lead to them being kicked out and missing out on what would be one of the greatest tournaments in the game's history, but so too would their bullies as well. At the very least, he'd make sure that Humanoid Players wouldn't have the last laugh.

He debated the idea in his mind while insults flew back and forth between the two groups like arrows. The tension reached a boiling point, and for a moment, it truly looked like it would come to blows.

"I see much hasn't changed since I've last been here." A voice idly interjected, loud and clear. One that carried over the crowd and drew the attention of all.

As they turned, the eyes of each and every Player grew wider with surprise at the unexpected appearance of a third party joining them. They were walking down the main street that led to the square and were given a wide berth of space by the various spectating Players and groups who were sitting or milling about as they scrambled out of the way in surprise. They all but backpedaled away, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste, for none other than the infamous Heteromorphic guild, Ainz Ooal Gown, had made their presence known.

They marched forward unhindered, brushing past the parted crowd with Shirou and Momonga at the forefront. The two were flanked by Touch Me and Warrior Takemikazuchi, with everyone else following closely behind. The atmosphere was tense, and the air was heavy with anticipation as they strode forward.

After Shirou and Warrior Takemikazuchi had received their invitations, a question arose. Whether the guild would watch the tournament from a screen broadcast in the comfort of Nazarick or at the stadium, live and in person, to show their support.

It wasn't even a debate, as when the emails were sent out to all affiliated guild members, all answered back with a unanimous and enthusiastic yes. Even the two members that had quit previously answered back that they would be able to make it, if just for the day, as a show of support for their guildmates and friends on this momentous occasion.

On a day, Shirou conspicuously noted, that lined up with everyone else's schedule with no conflict whatsoever.

How fortuitous...

Nevertheless, Shirou and the others were grateful for any one of them who could've made it.

And so here they were, the full might of Ainz Ooal Gown present and accounted for. In all their glory.

With the attendance of the strongest Heteromorphic guild made known, like wildfire, it spread, sparking commotion and bewildered whispers from all those around them. Many pointed and gasped, all the while Ainz Ooal Gown continued forward, basking in their apparent stupor.

The ringleader was the first to recover, turning his attention away from the Beholder towards Shirou and Co. He spread out his arms mockingly, as if he was a grand host welcoming them.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't the great and terrible Ainz Ooal Gown and the infamous Player Killer himself. To what do we owe the displeasure of your presence?" He spoke, sneering sarcasm dripping with every syllable.

Shirou offered the bully nothing more than a passing glance, focusing on the Heteromorphic party instead. The magus's casual dismissal of the Humanoid Player only seeded further irritation from the man at being so blatantly ignored, as if he were beneath his notice.

"Oi, don't you know it's rude to ignore someone when they're asking you a question?"

The bully stepped up, cutting into Shirou's path and halting their progress.

Here, Shirou finally acknowledges his presence.

"Please step aside."

"Hmm." The Player stroked his chin, as if giving it some serious thought. "How about, no?"

His hand struck out, aiming for Shirou's shoulder in an attempt to bump him back. The magus didn't so much as budge. Whereas the Player took half a step back, having felt as if he tried pushing back a wall.

The ringleader frowned internally and recovered just as quickly, choosing instead to take a step forward and get into the magus's space.

Shirou stepped to the side, only for him to follow suit, remaining an obstruction in his path.

At the same time, the other Humanoid Players slowly gathered around, making a circle and cutting off their exit. The rest of Ainz Ooal Gown looked around, seeing that they were surrounded.

"Again, I ask you to please move aside."

"Oh yea? And what are you going to do if I don't?"

The two Players stared one another down.

"Move. Or be moved."

"I'd like to see ya' try."

The faker didn't openly respond, emboldening the Humanoid Player as he arrogantly took another step forward, getting right in his face and leering at Shirou.

"What's the matter, traitor, cat got your tongue? Don't tell me the big bad Player Killer is sca—"

Whatever words he would say next would go unfulfilled as the Player felt his vision tilt, and the next thing he knew, he was looking up at the sky.

In an instant, all the chatter ceased. The sudden silence that followed was palpable, leaving everyone in stunned disbelief at what they had just witnessed. One moment, the two were standing there, the next, Shirou struck. In a flash, Shirou's right hand became a blur as he landed a swift and calculated right hook. One so sudden that it knocked the cocksure Player flat on his ass and back. The bully blinked dumbly while sprawled on the ground, the number zero flashing across his HUD, showing that he took no damage despite the attack. So unexpected and swift was it that it took him a few seconds lying there before his mind registered what just happened.

Many of the Humanoid Players, including the Heteromorphic party, were much the same, blinking owlishly before tensing up. They looked up and around, half expecting to be teleported away and another half waiting for the GMs or Riot Guards to make their appearance and ban all of them.

Ainz Ooal Gown was no better, with some of their members going slack-jawed and fearful at the spontaneous action of their friend. In particular, Momonga, who, if possible, would have a tidal wave of sweat rolling down his alabaster skull as he was overcome with anxiety at the potential repercussions.

"What is he doing?!" Punitto Moe hissed, with many of the others thinking the same thing. "Is he trying to get himself disqualified before the tournament even starts?!"

On the other hand, there were those who certainly got a kick out of it, such as Warrior Takemikazuchi, who threw back his head in uproarious laughter. He was joined by the likes of Ulbert, who was more sneering, and Peroroncino, who was cackling like crazy. The rest, meanwhile, settled in between reluctance and mirthfulness. The Humanoid Player fully had it coming, but none could have fully predicted the normally calm and rational Shirou to be the one to strike first.

"Oh boy..." Touch Me muttered under his breath, head in hand, as he shook his head ruefully.

Things were certainly heating up, and the tournament hadn't even officially begun yet!

"Y-yo-ou fuck!" The Player squeaked, reeling and struggling to stand back up on his feet with the help of his teammates. "You looking for a fight? Well, we're more than ready to put you freaks in your place!"

The crowds of Humanoid Players that were content to passively watch the show from a distance sprung to their feet, clamoring forward. Their voices added to the growing storm.

"Talk shit, get hit. It's basic gaming rule 101. And here I thought Humanoid Players were supposed to be smart. I guess you're the exception, huh?" Warrior Takemikazuchi quipped, earning snickers from Ainz Ooal Gown and glares from the Humanoid Players.

The throngs of Humanoid Players amassed around Ainz Ooal Gown. The air was thick with taunts and jeers as they puffed out their chests in an attempt at intimidation. It seemed as if a fight was all but inevitable, and yet, as seconds and then a full minute passed, nothing ever came of it.

For all their squawking, the horde of Players was content to remain as they were, edging forward ever so slightly but keeping their distance. They were content with their superior numbers but unwilling to be the ones to initiate things.

If that was the case, then Shirou figured he'd be the one to start it if they didn't. After all, he had better places to be, and nothing was going to stop him.

"What's the matter?" He questioned. Despite being surrounded and vastly outnumbered, Shirou remained collected, almost aloof. His hands were at his side, and his posture was straight and relaxed for all to see.

His eyes scoured them, showing off, waiting to see just who would make the first move. Who would be brave enough to take the first step? Who would throw the first retaliation? But no one did. Shirou faced the instigator of it all, confronting the lone Player and leveling a bored glare at the bully. One that he couldn't help but flinch back from.

Shirou took a single, measured step forward. The sound of his footstep hitting the ground rang out across the plaza for all to hear. The mobs of Humanoid Players around him leaned back, all of them taking a collective step backward instinctively. Some blinked, balking at the suddenness of their action.

"Where has your confidence gone?" His gaze bore down on the ringleader. There was no change in his inflection, nothing but a calm detachment.

Another step forward, another step back. And with his third step, Shirou entered the Player's personal space without breaking eye contact with him.

The instigator of it all gulped internally, chastising himself for feeling even a lick of fear. Yet, as Shirou's golden and silver eyes peered down at him, he couldn't help it. His body tried to take another step back, only to be blocked by the bodies of his party members behind him. He was effectively trapped, and it forced him to stand his ground as he bore the brunt of the Player Killer's dichromatic gaze.

"I will ask you one final time. Let us pass, or you'll be removed. You have three seconds to comply." He said. "One."

There was something about his nonchalant demeanor and casual tone that gave them pause. Despite the numerical disadvantages and ramifications hanging over him, Shirou seemed unfazed. His blasé attitude was steeped in a sense of assurance that left many wondering where it stemmed from. Everyone present was fixated on him, awaiting his next action with bated breath, knowing full well the potential consequences of what they would bring.

"Two."

Not even his friends were completely sure what he had in mind, and they were just as anxious as everyone else. If anything, Ainz Ooal Gown was even more uneasy, knowing just how important this tournament was to their friend. And yet, it seemed he was going out of his way to get himself kicked out. Momonoga, Tabula, Punitto Moe, and the like were quietly scrambling to de-escalate the situation before it was too late. The rest waited and watched in silence to see what would happen next.

"Thre—"

As the words slowly tumbled out of Shirou's mouth, the tension proved too much for the bully.

"W-whatever!" The Player's voice cracked, drawing all eyes to him.

"T-this ain't worth it. It'll be a waste of time to put freaks like you in your place. We've still got a tournament to catch. C-come on, w-we're leaving!"

"B-but, but boss—!" One of his party members interjected.

"I said we're leaving! Move it!" With those final words, the bully hastily turned his back to Shirou and shoved his way through his party members just to get away.

The party was left with little choice but to follow after their leader, awkwardly trailing after him as they left the square.

"Anyone else?" Shirou asked, tilting his head back and around to the remaining congregation of Players surrounding them. He waited to see if anyone else would be brave enough to step forward, subjecting all of them to the same piercing stare he gave the instigator.

The Fake Player quickly got his answer as the flock of Players backed away, splintering off within all but a few seconds. The disorganized mass of Players awkwardly shuffled away from Ainz Ooal Gown and the scene. Many of them withdrew, leaving the square outright, following the first party's lead. A few went back to what they were doing, hanging around the plaza but minding their own business. A few others looked like they wanted to try something, but seeing where the tide was going, they were swept in and quickly followed suit. The tension released and those from Ainz Ooal Gown and the Heteromorphic party breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Shirou huffed under his breath at the sight. Mob mentality, so simple and, at the same time, so fickle.

With no ringleader to rally behind, the mobs of Humanoid Players was no longer as confident as they were just before.

For all their numbers and attempts at intimidation, they were nothing more than human beings.

And Shirou, he'd stared down and faced far worse.

The magus was far from impressed. And he wasn't alone.

"Pussies!" Peroroncino hollered at the retreating parties, earning shouts and profanities from them. The golden archer responded in kind by throwing them two clear middle fingers back their way, along with a few colorful choices of words.

"Kazu—I mean, Pero!" A voice admonished him, joining him at his side. It was none other than Reina, who finally decided to take her boyfriend's advice.

Sigfrida – Lvl: 78

"Oh come on, babe, this is YGGDRASIL! Insults and shit-talking are part of the game and par for the course."

"Bird brain ain't wrong." Said Ulbert, coming to the archer's defense. "Especially when it's more than justified. Someone needs to remind these fuckers lest they get too big for their britches." The archdemon cackled, sneering at the retreating cowards while throwing a few barbed insults of his own and joined along by a few of the guild members.

"That was a bit dangerous, don't you think, Emiya-san?" Momonga asked, coming to Shirou's side alongside a few others. The exasperation in his voice was clearly conveyed.

"Aye. A bit of head-up would've been nice." Tabula added.

"It worked, didn't it?"

Both the Overlord and Brain Eater frowned at the almost dismissive note in his friend's tone. The two shared a worried look.

"And if it didn't, both yourself and Warrior Takemikazuchi-san would've been barred from the tournament." Punitto Moe bluntly stated. "Contestant or not, your actions could've gotten all of us kicked out. The entire reason why we all came. What would've happened then, Emiya-san?"

"It wouldn't."

Again, there was no doubt in his voice. That same clear but distant tone of his, as if he knew something they didn't.

Momonga wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't quite certain whether Shirou's confidence stemmed from his acquaintance with Zelretch, which provided him with a degree of assurance like a safety net to fall back on, or if he was simply taking a daring risk that happened to pay off. Regardless of the reason, it was a dangerous mindset to maintain and one the salaryman wasn't comfortable with. Ever since the news of the 9th World Champion Tournament was announced, a few began to notice Shirou acting aloof in the days leading up to the event. It was as if he was both keenly focused but also distracted, and none were quite sure what to make of it.

Before any of them had a chance to speak again, Shirou walked away, joining Touch Me and a few others that went to greet the small Heteromorphic party and putting an end to the discussion.

Punitto Moe sighed under his breath and threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Bellriver, who was with them but kept silent, patted the Death Vine's shoulder in reassurance. Momonga and Tabula shared another uneasy glance. The two quietly followed suit, joining Shirou and the other.

"Is everyone alright?" Touch Me asked the party.

"Aye, we appreciate the save. Honestly, I didn't think help would ever come, least of all in the form of you guys. Then again, I'm not complaining." Eye CU hailed, chuckling and holding out his tentacled eye stocks to both Touch Me and Shirou.

"I can't thank you all enough."

Both the faker and the World Champion didn't hesitate to reach out and grasp them.

"Think nothing of it. After all, it's only common sense to help someone in need." Touch Me replied in his usual tone of voice.

Shirou only nodded, but the sentiment was shared among all of them.

The others exchanged friendly handshakes as Ainz Ooal Gown welcomed the smaller party of Heteromorphs in. From there, greetings were passed around, and the two groups intermingled easily. Both sides chatted freely, with the party members striking up excited conversations with the various guild members, each one bouncing on their feet at the chance to talk and interact with the legendary guild.

Light conversations drifted between the two groups as they collectively made their way through the town.

"I gotta say, of all the things I was expecting from today, being saved by you all was a pleasant surprise. Still running around helping us Heteromorphs out, I see, Emiya-san. And here I thought you perhaps gave up on that mantle." The Beholder mentioned casually, striking up a new conversation.

"Well, he ain't called the [Heteromorph Savior] for nothing, mate." The metal slime quipped from the side.

"Huh, I haven't heard that name in a long while." The aforementioned savior commented, reminiscing on his first persona within the virtual world all those years ago. "I suppose I am."

Several of them snickered at this, finding amusement in his casual admission. This continued for a short time as they tried to include him in the conversation, but all could sense that Shirou was distracted; his responses were often reserved and passive.

They quickly got the hint, and the exchange petered out, giving the digitalized magus his space. During all of this, Shirou's gaze found itself locked toward the enormous structure that loomed from the center of the town. The battleground for where it'll all be decided. He kept the location in his sight as they paraded ever closer.

"Is everything alright?"

Shirou blinked. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice his friends walking alongside him. Shirou's inner circle walked around him, with the magus at the center, preventing him any room to wiggle out of.

He glanced to the side, finding that it was Touch Me who asked the question.

"I'm fine." Shirou dismissed.

"Emiya-san, what have we told you? Do we need to bring out Mr. Wiggles again?" Momonga tilted his head towards Shirou following the question, his hand twitching, all too ready to reach into his inventory and pull out Mr. Wiggles, regardless of where they were in public.

Not only him but everyone else as well, Ulbert especially. He crackled menacingly, just waiting for a reason to embarrass him.

Shirou paled and quickly changed his tune at the 'threat.'

"Please no..."

"Then stop saying you're fine when you're not. I believe we went over this matter rather extensively the last time around." Tabula sighed.

"I am fine, truly! It's just... the tournament. I'm..."

"Nervous?" Bukubukuchagama offered.

Shirou said nothing, yet his silence said all that was needed. Nervous couldn't quite begin to describe the maelstrom of emotion that dwelled within him. Anticipation, cautiousness, relief, and restlessness — but perhaps the greatest amongst them all — doubt.

The group continued walking as the poignant silence stretched on for a few more seconds.

"Normally, I would say you got this... But this is the World Champion Tournament we're talking about here. You can't afford to be lax or let your guard down for even a second. While we have no idea who exactly they'll be, the shitty devs wouldn't have picked any random Player. No doubt they'll be powerful and skilled. You'll need to go in with the mindset that every single one of your opponents is as capable as you, if not more so, for you can never know what's going to happen."

Everyone looked at Momonga.

"...You know, this is one of the few times where your complete paranoia is probably in the right, Mononga-san." Peroroncino quipped, his hands casually resting behind his head.

"I resent that statement!" Momonga huffed with faux offense. "Besides, it's not paranoia if the possibility is there. I'm just being cautious and taking into account anything and everything that might be trouble."

"By assuming the worst right out the bat, while devising a counterplan and then a counter to that counterplan, and then a counter of a counter to the counter-plan?" Warrior Takemikazuchi quirked a brow. "Now you're sounding just like Punitto Moe-san."

"One, rude. And two, if you're comparing me with him, then you're doing me a disservice. After all, everyone knows that I'm way more of an overthinker and pessimist than he is!"

Momonga's attempt at humor earned a few playful scoffs and eye rolls from his friends but it did little to squash the air of uncertainty hanging over his best friend. Faced with another stint of quietness, he continued, hoping to lift Shirou out of his somber mood.

"But I think, above all else, you shouldn't focus entirely on winning and try to have some fun with the tournament."

Shirou gave him a quirked look. Momonga needed not even a glance to tell the confusion his longtime friend was feeling at his rather counterintuitive statement.

The Overlord rolled his shoulders, collecting himself for what he would say next. It was time to put all that speech practice to good use.

"I know that the prize is important to you, probably more than I can imagine, and that this tournament will be a stressful endeavor, but you shouldn't allow it to taint the experience. Agonizing over what-ifs will only put even more pressure on you, and I worry that it'll build and build and become too much. Trust me, I've been there." Momonga looked at Shirou, his crimson orbs flickering with worry as his voice carried a painful reminiscence.

"Momonga-san..." Shirou cautioned.

"I know, I know." Momonga held up his hand and hurriedly assuaged, knowing what he was going to say.

"I'm not saying to not try or give it your all. What I'm trying to say is that you should try your absolute best, but don't let winning blind you. Above all else, never forget that you're not alone, Emiya-san. Let's not forget that there's still Warrior Takemikazuchi-san to count on."

"He's right." Warrior Takemikazuchi inserted himself into the conversation.

Coming in from the side, he slung his arm over Shirou's shoulder, pulling the Humanoid Player in. Warrior Takemikazuchi gave him a good-natured noogie, ruffling up his hair affectionately.

"Ain't no reason to worry, old chum. We got this! Better yet, why don't you sit this one out and let me handle it all on my own? Watch, I'll win this shindig all on my own!" The samurai boasted, giving him a powerful pat on the back.

"Even in the absolute worst and most unlikely scenario where you two might be out of the running and lose, it isn't the end of the world. We'll be quick to get in touch with the winner. Set up a deal of some kind, negotiate a trade of one World Class item for another, or anything else, even if it means a deficit for the guild. I'm sure Bellriver-san or Punitto Moe-san can work their magic and get us a good deal." The skeletal sorcerer vowed.

Momonga's gaze met the others, and they nodded, showing their support.

"Those two aren't going to like that..." Ulbert muttered conspicuously. "Pretty sure what's more likely going to happen is that Punitto Moe-san's gonna chew your ear off..."

A sharp elbow hit the World Disaster on the side, earning an 'oof!' from him. Yamaiko was the culprit, her expression was deadpan and devoid of any humor.

"Ulbert-san." Yamaiko scolded him in a low voice.

"What? I'm speaking the truth here. You want me to lie between friends?" Ulbert defended himself in his usual sarcastic drawl.

Amanomahitotsu followed Yamaiko's lead and delivered a swift elbow to Ulbert's side as well.

"Really?" Said the crustacean blacksmith, joining the Nephilim brawler with a deadpan of his own.

"I mean, go team woo! We totally believe in you. All for one, one for all, and whatever. You got this!" Came the monotone cheers from Ulbert.

Shirou cracked a small smile, heartened at their support.

"Thank you. If it ever comes to that, do forgive me for my selfishness."

"Of course. After all, what are friends for?"

Momonga patted Shirou's shoulder reassuringly.

Silence returned between them, but for a moment, Momonga caught something. It was faint, indistinguishable from all the background noises around them, and he would've missed it had he not been paying careful attention.

"I need to do it… her..."

'Her?' Momonga wondered, catching only fragments of what Shirou muttered under his breath. It sounded like he was mumbling to himself, whether he was aware of it or not was something the salaryman couldn't be certain of. His crimson orbs swerved, looking to see if anyone else might have caught it, but it looked to be only him.

"Let's move on." Shirou shook his head, regaining some of his normal cheer. "It's like you said. This is still a festival. All this doom and gloom will only end up jinxing me."

Momonga mused on whether or not he should bring it up but relented without a complaint for the moment.

Everything was as they were as Shirou fell in with the others. The atmosphere was convivial, with jokes and conversations flowing effortlessly between them. From there, conversations drifted, and it wasn't long before Shirou and Mononga were talking by themselves.

"How have you been, Momonga-san? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The two old friends conversed, slowly catching up over the last couple of weeks. With ease, they lost themselves in their conversation, chatting away at length and jumping from topic to topic. As the talk carried on, it eventually veered onto the topic of Momonga's girlfriend, Destana. A trend that quickly became the norm ever since the couple went steady.

The magus laughed and smiled along with every story shared. He lent his ear as he listened to all of Momonga's woes, offering the occasional shoulder pats, quips, or condolences for his undead friend. Though every recount was tinged with a hint of exasperation at her antics, it pales in comparison to the sheer fondness and love in his tone as he spoke of her.

As he listened, his mind idly wandered, and a particular query that had been lingering in Shirou's mind resurfaced. It was a question that had been weighing on his tongue for quite some time, and he couldn't help but ponder it once more.

"Have you once thought of tying the knot with her?" He asked almost absentmindedly, his mouth moving before his brain fully registered his words.

Momonga's words were caught in his throat, and his brain shut down for half a second the moment those words entered his ear. The Overlord nearly tripped on his robes and fell right then and there. Having been caught completely off guard, he flailed his arms before managing to right his balance.

"Woah, are you alright, babe?" Destana asked, gliding to his side with a gentle hand on his back.

The others, too, looked at him, wondering what could've caused him to nearly trip. All the attention on him made him self-conscious as he panicked to get himself under control.

"I-I'm. F-fine!" He squeaked.

"You sure? You literally almost trip over nothing." The angel pointed out with a cocked brow, not quite believing him.

"I'm fine! I was just distracted..." He coughed, trying to hide his slip-up.

"...M'kay, if you say so."

His girlfriend relented and floated back to resume her chat with Bukubukuchagama and the rest while keeping her eyes and ears open just in case.

With that matter taken care of, his brain rebooted, and Momonga whirled right back around to Shirou. His crimson orbs shrank into pinpricks as he stared at his long-time friend incredulously.

"What kind of question was that?!"

In the face of Momonga's overwhelming emotions, Shirou found himself shrugging.

"You two have been together for three years now and counting. Anyone with a pair of functioning eyes and ears can see just how much you two love each other. Not to mention the fact that both of you are already living together and everything. I'd say marriage is just a step forward in your relationship and a natural progression." He answered simply.

The rest of the guild practically considered the two of them married in all but name with how tied at the hip they were.

A small, high-squeaked noise escaped him. Shirou could all too easily imagine the blushing red face his best friend was no doubt making behind his avatar. Even after all these years, Momonga hadn't quite outgrown his awkward and self-conscious nature. Then again, that was part of his charm, he supposed, and part of it made it so fun and easy to tease.

"T-that's still a large leap! S-sure we're living together, but marriage is something entirely else. We'll need to worry about planning for the wedding, location, deposits for the ceremony, getting approval for time off from both our jobs, and then working out a schedule for both parties. What about invitations and guest lists?! We'll have to make sure everything's on schedule, or even a location! That's not to mention the mountain of paperwork following, updating our legal and marital status, along with our financial status. Oh, and don't me started on breaking the news to her parents! I'm pretty sure Kasumi's father hates my guts. Furthermore, there's..." On and on he rattled.

Shirou quickly interjected, lest his friend ramble on until the end of time at the rate he was going.

"I'm not saying you need to go up to her and immediately propose. It's something to think about for the future." Here, his smile turned coy.

"Not unless you're intending to break up with her any time soon." He added.

"Never." Momonga replied resolutely, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Then I see no real issue getting in the way of asking her. Eventually, of course." Shirou happily crowed.

Momonga's eyes widened as he realized he had walked right into it.

"I... you...! Ugh..." He stammered, at a loss for words.

Forehead met palm as Momonga groaned.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Technically speaking, you did it to yourself, old friend."

Momonga grumbled under his breath, shooting a glower Shirou's way, though it hardly had any heat behind it. Despite the initial embarrassment, a sense of budding curiosity swelled within him.

"Why do you care?" He inquired, far from demanding but more matter-of-factly.

Shirou didn't offer an answer immediately, looking only ahead.

"Because I don't want you to make the same mistake I did."

Mononga's back straightened at the wistful whisper of his long-time friend.

Shirou looked ahead, his golden and silver eyes glazing over as he stared at something not there.

Two flashes, two figures standing before him.

They were smiling. One was reserved but warm, the other hesitant but inviting.

Arturia and Rin.

What he wouldn't give for a chance to see them again. What he wouldn't do but for a moment with them, to express his regret and to tell them that he loved them one more time.

"Your happiness is truly important to me, and I sincerely wish it for everyone, including you, Momonga. I'll share with you the same thing I shared with Pero. Time waits for no one; we humans live short lives, but it's because they are short that we find meaning and contentment in them. You and her, the way the two of you shine when you're together, the love you two hold for each other is irreplaceable. We all endure, searching for that special someone, the one that completes us. Some search tirelessly but never succeed. Others try and fail for years with varying success, and then some are blessed with stumbling upon them at the right time."

The two locked eyes, pools of shimmering silver and auburn gold peering into burning crimson orbs, imploring him to heed his words.

"Hold onto her and never let her go. Even if the whole world is against you. Live with all your heart and don't regret it, for life is far too short for regrets."

In that moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl, and the world around them faded into the background, leaving only the two of them standing there, lost in the gravity of the moment.

Momonga has heard Shirou give countless speeches and talks during their many years together. Each one forever carries an unbridled earnestness and conviction that set him apart from any adult he or the rest of Ainz Ooal Gown have conversed with or encountered before. A fount of wisdom and experience unparalleled.

But this time, it was different.

His words, they were so soft-spoken, so earnest.

His words were a heed, a plea.

A wish.

Not just from one friend to another, but from one man to another.

'Find your happiness and don't let it go.'

Eventually, Momonga found his voice.

"I will." He promised.

And then, the world resumed as normal.

The two friends walked side by side, a vow from the old to the young, to avoid the same pitfall as him. To avoid making the terrible mistake he had and endure for a better future.

And so, all wells that end well.

Were it not for what Shirou would say next. A question regarding a matter of the utmost importance.

"So, are you planning on starting a family any time soon?"

Upon hearing such a question casually being dropped, Momonga reacted accordingly. No, he didn't falter in his step like last time. The salaryman mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done there.

Instead, he settled on almost choking on his breath.

"I—Y-you—! What kind of question is that?!"

"Well, I figured with the number of times you probably got at it like rabbits, it's bound to happen sooner or later."

Momonga went slack-jawed at what he heard. Shirou shrugged, suppressing his amusement as if he were completely innocent.

"The marriage question I could've kind of understood, but a question like that?! Also, you've figured?" Momonga replied incredulously. "Who the heck thinks about their friend sleeping with their girlfriend and wonders if they got her pregnant or not?! Who are you, Peroroncino-san?" The Guildmaster huffed, more embarrassed than offended.

Shirou gave a playful wince. "One, ouch. That's a bit rude to both him and me."

"Doesn't make it any less true." Came Momonga's rebuttal.

"Hmm, that's fair." Shirou conceded. "And two, I'm just looking out for you." He offered cheekily.

"Besides, remind me again who was it that came to me in a panic that one time when the two of you did it without protection? Honestly, I've never seen you panic as much as you did when you fretted out of your mind at the possibility of Destana-san getting pregnant."

Shirou continued to tease his best friend with an impish smile. Momonga looked away with a red face and a demoralizing groan at the memory.

The memory of the incident was forever etched in the salaryman's mind. It took two whole weeks before Momonga finally calmed down, but even then, the whole ordeal wasn't going to be forgotten for a long, long time. It eventually turned into an inside joke between all three of them. Well, it was more accurate to say his best friend and girlfriend got a kick out of it and teased him relentlessly whenever the opportunity cropped up, while he was forced to weather the memory in cringing embarrassment.

Such was the case with a prank that occurred when he came home one day after a long day at work and entered their home – Kasumi had long since decided to move in with him and the two had been living together for some time – to find his girlfriend sitting on the couch, nursing a round belly. Little did he know that she had stuffed her shirt with a small pillow to give the illusion of a gravid belly.

But in his exhausted state, after a long and arduous week of grueling work and running on no more than a few hours of sleep, he was none the wiser. Kasumi then turned to him with tears and shared the news that they were expecting, her gentle hand caressing the fake belly.

And as par for the course, Satoru reacted accordingly, calmly and patiently with the decorum of a proper adult; his eyes rolled to the back, and he fainted on the spot. The last thing he heard was the combination of a soft cry of his name ringing out and laughter as Kasumi rushed towards him.

'I swear, the two of them are never going to let me live this down until the day I die!'

"No. We're not planning on having any kids..."

Momonga finally answered, yet there was a pronounced hesitance in his tone. A 'yet' was left unspoken but could almost be heard between them.

"Would you ever want children, Momonga-san?" Shirou rephrased the question, asking him this instead.

Momonga's mouth opened again with an immediate 'no' for an answer, but it never came. He stopped himself at the last second.

This was hardly the first time such a topic had been brought up. The idea of marriage and kids had been mentioned a few times in the past, usually in idle jest or wishful musings from his girlfriend. He would always sputter out an answer, denying the question while she laughed at his reaction.

He thought long and hard about it, coming to realize that he never once gave the question, let alone the idea, any serious thought. Forever dismissing it with post-haste for one reason or another.

It was always something that lingered within the outstretches of his mind. Never once could he remember truly sitting down and reflecting on the notion behind it. To him, the sheer concept of someone like him having a child to call his own sounded utterly fanciful, within the realm of fantasy.

Throughout the majority of his life, Satoru believed that he would never come across someone who he could truly open up to and love unconditionally. That was, until Kasumi made her way into his life. And what an experience it was! She came in like a wrecking ball, smashing down the walls he erected around his heart with a hammer and dynamites, before dragging him out of his shell and showering him with an abundance of love and affection that he never thought possible.

It was only after coming to accept her into his life did he ever entertain such an idea as marriage, let alone actually contemplate it. However, marriage was one thing, but conceiving a child of their own? That was a whole other beast, and Satoru wasn't quite certain if he was up to the challenge of becoming a parent.

From the day his mother died to when he was forced to work at such a young age until adulthood, he had never thought of what else could be. For as long as he could remember, Satoru envisioned himself living alone, working day by day at a grueling dead-end job just to make ends meet while trying to scrape out what little time he could to relax and alleviate the boring monotony that was his daily life. A routine that would continue until he died either from overwork, old age if he was lucky, or if he was feeling particularly tired and wanted to end it all quickly. Whichever came first.

Satoru Suzuki would die alone, meandering through life until it was his time. The Suzuki family name would die with him. His existence would amount to nothing more than an insignificant blimp in society, forgotten as the world kept on turning.

It was a macabre outlook, but that was his reality for as long as he could remember.

Until he was proven wrong.

Until he met his friends, those that he cherished as family.

Until he met Kasumi, the love of his life.

Now, the world was so much larger than he envisioned. So much brighter than he once thought. One worth living for.

To find love, to open up, and to be accepted. He found all of that and more in Kasumi, and now he couldn't imagine what his life would be without her by his side.

So, if he was proven wrong once before, then why not a second time?

To have children to call his own. To be a father...

Such a thought stirred something within him, resonating deeply in his core.

Momonga, Satoru Suzuki, never knew his father. Considering he lived his whole childhood with only his mother by his side until her untimely passing and that she never once mentioned him, it wouldn't be hard to educate a guess or two as to why it was the only two of them.

And despite his less-than-stellar upbringing and horrendous lack of parental figures growing up, he would like to think he managed to avoid the common pitfalls of a tragic childhood and grew up into a stable and respectable adult with his head screwed on properly and successfully. His self-confidence could be better, as everyone, especially his closest friends and girlfriend would constantly point out, but hey! No one was perfect.

He had a place he called home, a job that paid the bills and, while strenuous at times, wasn't as unfortunate as others were, a hobby he could indulge in to relax, cherished friends to call upon for help, and an affectionate girlfriend who loves him just as the sun loves the moon.

His life was far from perfect, but he was content.

Unbidden, a beautiful image emerged in his mind, straight from the depths of his heart. It was a picture of him and Kasumi snuggling up together on the couch with their precious little one cradled in her arms. Kasumi hummed a sweet melody as she gently rocked their baby back and forth, causing their little bundle of joy to giggle merrily while he watched them with a heartwarming smile. Eventually, she would pass their baby over to him to allow their little angel to play with daddy while she took a break. This left Satoru to awkwardly try and mimic her soothing touch, leading to their baby crying. He would panic and try to calm down the baby while his wife laughed.

A fluttering smile stretched as his mind wandered, spiraling forth from there.

With their savings and job income combined, who knows? Perhaps in less than a few years, they'll be able to afford a nicer and larger home. Satoru would work twice as hard, saving up more than enough money and expenses, and if all goes well, he might see another promotion or two. Something that would help his stipend alongside Kasumi.

Their neighborhood was far from bad, and their apartment was adequate for two adults, but it would be too small if their numbers expanded.

If they were truly lucky enough, they might even find housing within a biodome. He'd be sure to ask Touch Me or Shizyuutensuzaku for any help; those two had some connections, and he was confident they could help set up the couple with a nice place to live.

A quaint little house to call their own would be better suited to raising a family. One that would be perfect to raise a daughter and son in.

The more he thought about it, the more his imagination ran rampant with the possibility, envisioning a future that could be.

Their daughter will be their precious baby girl, a shy little thing just like her father, with Kasumi forever dotting on their pretty little princess. Their son would be a little scamp, just like his mother, running around with boundless energy, all the while Satoru wrangled with him to both their amusement.

He'll make sure they'll never grow up hungry or want anything. They'll never be forced to eat processed sludge to fill their bellies, just to stave off starvation. Neither will they be forced to drop out of school and begin working just to pay rent and avoid getting kicked onto the streets. They would never have to endure the suffocating smog and polluted air to which Satoru and Kasumi had grown accustomed, nor would they be forced to wear masks and coats every day just to breathe without fear of suffocation.

He'll put them through school and give them the proper education they deserve. They'll have the chance he never had. They would learn, grow, and prosper far beyond Satoru or Kasumi. A chance at a better future, a better life.

He'll give them a childhood he and so many others were denied. A chance to live like proper kids and enjoy their youth, unencumbered by the harsh realities of the world. They'll grow up loved and cared for, and Satoru and Kasumi will make sure they always know that.

And when night falls, they'll sit on the couch or snuggle up in bed, and Satoru and Kasumi will delight the children with bedtime tales of their YGGDRASIL adventures. The stories will be brimming with wonder and magic, recounting the incredible feats of Ainz Ooal Gown and the countless adventures they had as Players. Each story will be as fantastical and wondrous as the next, capturing the children's imaginations and transporting them to a world beyond their wildest dreams.

And when they're old enough, he'll also introduce them to the world of VR and gaming, sharing with them hobbies to enjoy. A family bonding experience for the years to come.

Shirou observed Momonga. He was silent. His eyes had a distant, faraway look, like a sailor staring out to sea in pursuit of something that could be. The faker could hear him mumbling under his breath, which he could only describe as happy noises.

A fond smile overcame the magus.

"You'd be a great father, Momonga." He said, his voice soft and gentle.

It would be a few seconds before he responded.

"Y-you think so…?" Momonga muttered, skittish but full of hope.

"I know it." Was the magus's answer, without a shred of doubt in his voice. "You've got the temperament for it. After all, if you can manage a guild of troublemakers like ours, then a kid or two should be no trouble."

The two shared a laugh.

No more words were spoken, for none were needed.

And so, the two continued along with soaring hearts for the future. Ready to take the first step towards that prosperous fortune.

Until Shirou had this to add.

"Try not to multiply too quickly."

Were it possible, his skeletal cheeks and face would be set aflame for the umpteenth, his mouth sputtering to say something incomprehensible.

'Really?!' Momonga couldn't help but mentally scream.

"Shirou...!"

And things were going so well, Momonga lamented. That was the perfect sendoff. A nicely wrapped little bow to end the discussion, and yet, Shirou just had to open his mouth!

If Momonga didn't know any better, he would've suspected his friend was doing this on purpose, all for the sake of slapping him with these tonal whiplashes, just to see him suffer for his amusement.

If that wasn't bad enough, it was also at this time that Destana made her appearance known. Having caught the tail end of their conversation, she all but barged in on them.

Destana floated in with a snicker and lovingly wrapped herself over her boyfriend from behind. She nuzzled her head against his skull, her cheeks rubbing affectionately against his.

"What's wrong with that? I can see it now. You and me, and a couple of ankle-biters to call our own. It's perfect!" She cooed, tracing circles on his wide shoulder.

"Dear, please..." He groaned.

"And it ain't because of a lack of trying, I'll tell ya." She barreled through, glancing at Shirou. "By the way, babe, peer review from last night. A+ for effort, but a D overall. Then again, I wouldn't be too upset if you gave me another D ~ We'll talk later in my office, and by office, I mean our bed."

"Destana, no!"

"Destana YES!"