Prince of Nazarick

The heart of the Sorcerer Kingdom, once a sprawling forest surrounding the Great Tomb of Nazarick, had been reshaped into a testament to Ainz Ooal Gown's absolute rule. The newly erected capital, a perfect circle encompassing the tomb at its center, stood as a monument to his power.

Within his obsidian-walled office, Ainz pored over reports relayed from a network of magical satellites, his skeletal visage illuminated by their ethereal glow. "Two new mithril veins discovered," he murmured, his voice a hollow rasp. "Excellent. Though it seems our efforts to locate additional Prismatic Orc mines have proven fruitless."

A sharp rap at the door interrupted his musings. "Enter."

Albedo, her pristine white gown a stark contrast against the dark decor, swept into the room, her usual serene expression replaced by a rare frown. "Ainz-sama," she announced, bowing low. "An anomaly has emerged near the outskirts of Hoburns. A structure of unknown origin, and... hostile forces have begun attacking civilians."

Ainz's crimson gaze remained fixed on the report in his hand. "I am aware. The link I share with my summons has already informed me of this... incident. Have we managed to secure any prisoners?"

"Yes, Ainz-sama. One thousand forty-six of the attackers have been captured and are currently being interrogated."

"Good. Summon Ragnarok and Demurage."

Albedo bowed again. "At once, Ainz-sama."

A short while later, two figures stood before Ainz's desk. The first was Demurage, the Sorcerer Kingdom's Minister of Defense, his stern face etched with concern. The second was Ragnarok Owal Gown, Ainz's son and Albedo's heir. Born from a wish upon a star, Ragnarok bore the combined might of his Overlord father and his mother demonic heritage – a being of immense power constantly at war with his dual nature.

Ragnarok, his horned silhouette towering over even his imposing father, spoke first. "Father, I've reviewed the reports. The civilian casualties are minimal thanks to the bravery of the local populace. However, their weaponry... it's unlike anything I've encountered before. Their armor resembles that of ancient Roman legionaries, though the flag they bear is completely alien to me."

"Indeed," Ainz confirmed, his tone measured. "It appears we are dealing with something… unexpected. Ragnarok, assemble an expeditionary force. You will lead them through the portal and assess the situation on the other side. Our knowledge of these invaders is nonexistent – we will gather intelligence before taking any further action."

"As you command, Father."

Ainz turned his gaze to Demurage. "Ensure the area surrounding the structure is completely locked down. No teleportation or extradimensional travel will be permitted, even for those bearing my sigil. Reinforce the perimeter. We will not allow a repeat of this… incursion."

"Your will be done, Ainz-sama," Demurage replied with a sharp bow, his hand already moving to activate the communication orb at his side.

As they departed to carry out his orders, Ainz leaned back in his throne-like chair, his skeletal fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against the armrest. The sudden arrival of these unknown forces was… intriguing. A welcome distraction, perhaps, from the tedium of ruling an unchallenged empire. But also, a potential threat that demanded his full attention. He would learn their secrets, and if they posed even the slightest risk to Nazarick… they would be dealt with, swiftly and decisively.