The Ignoble Clan In Overlord

POV: MC

Ayrton took Asgards view in for a last time. His black, unruly hair swayed in the wind and partly covered his scarred face, his left mantle sleeve fluttered in the wind as his left arm from the shoulder down was missing. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked the aged warrior to his left. Not receiving an answer, he continued "The view too, but I meant the idea of this world. It is so isolated from the thing we call reality, if I had the choice, I would leave it behind completely and join this idea entirely."

Placing his hand behind his back, his ragged but still regal mantle rustled in response to his purposeful movements. Still his sole attendant didn't respond.

Petting the NPC on the shoulder he turned his back to the floating castles of the biggest guild in Yggdrasil, the Seraphin, and started to wander the streets of Asgard.

The buildings were of white marble and silver, the streets evenly paved and bustling with carts and people of many different races. But no heteromorphs except angles were to be seen. Magic items and beasts alike swirled through the air and between the masses. Raising his hand and wordlessly greeting one or the other acquaintances Ayrton thought to himself;

'Even on the last day this city is still busy', taking a determined path he made his way to the Goldbank. Above the entrance hung a huge plate, on it was written in platinum lettering; GOLDBANK-VAULTS OF GODS. Entering the facility, he was greeted by a NPC clerk right away, who led him through the narrow hallways full of rune inscribed and guarded vaults to the deepest shaft, to his vault. After unlocking the impenetrable doors with his mana signature, he was finally granted access. Mountains of coin, data crystals, cash-items, summoning scrolls and items were splayed across the huge vault. Grasping the air Ayrton whispered "Store" and the vaults contents were absorbed with a dark swirl of light into his inventory. For some unexplainable reason he felt uncomfortable just leaving all his cherished belongings rotting there for all eternity.

Satisfied he took the steps through the ornate building that was plastered with gold and jewels, like its name suggested, to the next free teleportation area.

Appearing next to an enormous cliff he took in his surroundings; he saw a big tree on the cliffs edge. Briskly stepping over the lush dark green grass of the meadow his hand took hold of the tree's branches and he swung himself into the higher branches near the cliffs drop. Satisfied he closed his eyes and waited for the end. 'What a bitter end, I've truly enjoyed playing this character, in some ways this world seems much more real than this rotting mess of a world I call home. If I had one wish, it would be to be given a chance to stay. Even if I had to be hit by truck-kun for it to be realized.' And so, the end came.

23:59

…10…20…30…40…50…59..

00:00

Or did it?

The harsh sea breeze that had formerly brushed past his face was replaced by the damp air of a cavern catacomb. Furrowing his brows, which in itself should've been impossible, he stroked his chin at the sight in front of him. A group of about a dozen middle-aged men in dirty robes were kneeling in front of him, their exited gazes directed up the altar he was currently sitting on. Feeling the designer stubbles on his face he was even more confused.

At that Moment an unexpected figure stepped forth to shield him. "Step back and identify yourselves!" his attendant Alfred demanded.

(Reverence pictures in auxiliary chapters)