Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

Chapter 185 Negan berates Nazarick

On the dragon side...

It's been three days.

One hundred true dragon kings coiled around Nazarick, completely surrounding it from the sky to the ground. Occasionally, a dragon would change its posture, or a few would fly up and circle around, but most of the time they were dozing off.

They're not in a hurry.

For these creatures that have lived for at least two hundred years, three days is but a fleeting moment. They can wait for three months, three years, or even thirty years, let alone three days.

But simply blocking the door without doing anything is indeed a bit boring.

Several true dragon kings had already noticed that the other side was spying on them. The fluctuations of that magical detection were like someone peeking through a window, ridiculously clumsy. Following their master's instructions, they did not cut off the detection and let the other side look.

But they felt a little resentful; if you probe me, I have to probe you too.

So, several primordial spells were silently released, probing into the depths of Nazarick.

Then they ran into a wall.

The core area of ​​Nazarick was shrouded in a thick fog. Primal magic probed into it, but it was like throwing stones into the sea, receiving no feedback whatsoever. It wasn't that it was blocked, but that it was swallowed up, without even an echo.

The several true dragon kings exchanged glances.

They're using primordial magic, which is at the lowest level of authority in this world. Ordinary rank magic in the World Tree system can't stop it at all. Only world-class items can block primordial magic.

No wonder they were spying so brazenly; they had the confidence to do so.

Several young and ambitious true dragon kings were eager to try and forcefully break through that barrier using the highest-level primordial magic.

The Platinum Dragon King stopped them in time.

"There are rules for blocking the door. No one should attack without permission. Of course, if they make the first move, that's another story."

Okay, I got it.

The dragon kings sheepishly withdrew their magic.

Just then, the Platinum Dragon King's ears twitched slightly, and his eyes, which had been slightly closed, suddenly opened.

Something's coming.

Not from Nazarick, but in the distance, on the eastern horizon, several black dots were rapidly approaching, moving at a fast speed, yet flying unhurriedly, with an air of official business.

The Platinum Dragon King squinted, watching the black dots get closer and closer.

是天使。

They weren't wild; they were summoned by someone. The pure white steeds had outstretched wings, and the riders wore uniform white robes with badges on their chests that gleamed in the sunlight.

Sunlight Ceremony.

The one in the lead rode at the very front, his posture upright, his face serious, and he was clutching something in his hand.

He flew straight to the Platinum Dragon King, reined in the horse, and the angelic steed gently flapped its wings, hovering in mid-air.

"Your Excellency Platinum Dragon King," he bowed, his movements textbook perfect, "and greetings to all the True Dragon Kings."

The Platinum Dragon King nodded, his gaze sweeping over their attire: "The Sunlight Codex?"

"Indeed." The man bowed slightly. "I am Nigan, the current captain of the Sunshine Cult."

"What is it?"

Negan straightened his back and spoke in a loud voice: "By order of the King of Kings, I have come to persuade the Lord of the Great Tomb to lay down his weapons, cease his futile resistance, and surrender immediately."

The Platinum Dragon King blinked.

The owner didn't mention this before.

Just as he was about to speak, a thought suddenly exploded in his mind—a voice he had heard for over two hundred years, majestic, composed, and carrying an air of absolute control.

"Char, I sent them. But I don't think Nazarick will surrender. I just wanted to find an excuse to send them to test the waters. You just watch from the sidelines."

The Platinum Dragon King's mind stirred: "Master, if you want to attack this great tomb, we can just go straight in. Why call another team?"

The voice paused for a moment, then said with a hint of a smile, "Who goes all out right from the start? You all watch first, let Sunlight Scripture go up and test the waters."

The Platinum Dragon King sighed helplessly in his heart: "—Yes."

The voice added, this time as if talking to itself: "Perfect, it also fits the order of appearance in the original work. Look at how much the current Sunshine Scripture differs from the one on the other timeline."

Another timeline?

The Platinum Dragon King was stunned for a moment, wanting to ask, but the thought had already been severed.

He looked at the group of Sunshine Cult members standing ready before him, then at the silent great tomb in the distance, and remained silent for a moment.

"Since it is the King of Kings' order," he said slowly, "you may go."

Negan saluted again and led his team into the skies above Nazarick.

One hundred true dragon kings raised their heads and watched the group of people fly overhead.

The Platinum Dragon King watched as well, and he suddenly realized that his master's decision to send out the Sunlight Scripture first was probably not just a "test run".

It's more like—wanting to see what interesting things happen.

Over Nazarick.

Negan reined in the horse, suspending the angel in mid-air. He took a deep breath and pulled the roll of parchment from his sleeve.

Unfold.

He glanced down and his eye twitched slightly.

This manuscript was personally handed to him by His Majesty the King of Kings.

He thought it was some righteous and eloquent declaration of surrender, but the content of the draft did not resemble a declaration of surrender at all; every word was clearly a provocation.

He took a deep breath and began to read.

"That trash, Ainz Ooal Gown, on the other side."

His voice, amplified by amplification magic, reverberated across the grassland like thunder.

"A monstrous alien leading a pack of inhuman beasts."

Negan felt his face burning.

"A bunch of idiots, listen up!" Several team members silently turned their heads to one side, pretending to observe the terrain.

"You have five minutes to come out, kneel down, and surrender!"

Negan's voice grew louder and louder, as if he were trying to embolden himself.

"If you don't surrender, we'll dismantle your dog shit grave for composting and capture you all to feed the dogs!"

After reading the last sentence, Negan put away the parchment and let out a long sigh.

He glanced at the dragon kings in the distance, who were looking at him with an indescribable expression.

He glanced again at the silent, large tomb at his feet.

There should be a reaction, right?

Anyone with a shred of self-respect would find it impossible to tolerate such words.

He waited.

The Great Tomb of Nazarick, the tenth level, the Throne Room.

The flying squirrel was sitting on the throne of the kings, staring blankly at the telescope.

It's been three days.

Flying Squirrel originally planned to send someone out to test the waters today.

The dragons blocked the way for three days, but they didn't attack or probe. The guardians were getting impatient, and he also felt something was wrong.

In the game, even if two guilds put up a truce sign, they will not stop secretly probing each other.

But the other party just blocked the road and did nothing.

He had seen this style of play before.

There was once a guild that used one-twentieth of the world-class items, the Eternal Serpent Ring, to demand that the operating company lock down their entire guild for a month, all for the purpose of seizing a mine of seven-colored ore.

These dragons blocking their path probably have some scheme he doesn't know about, but he just doesn't have enough information to guess it.

However, although the other side sent out so many powerful dragons, these dragons alone could not block their way out.

It's worth noting that the game's guilds used an extremely rare world-class item to block their escape route.

Only world-class items can completely block [Dimensional Movement], [Teleportation], and [Higher-Level Teleportation].

Teleportation magic, such as [Portal].

Although there are spells like "One-Sided Duel" and "Teleportation Barrier" that can affect teleportation, they cannot completely stop it.

Therefore, unless the other side has a world-class item capable of generating a barrier, don't try to stop them from leaving.

So, is there one on the other side?

Momonga didn't see any world-class items on those dragons, but he figured he might as well assume they did. If he thought that way, things would get a little complicated; they might actually be completely blocked off.

But what exactly is their purpose in doing this? What are they trying to do?

As the flying squirrel was thinking, a new image suddenly appeared in the telescopic vision.

Someone is coming.

Riding horses—no, riding angels, the kind of pure white, steed-like angels with outstretched wings, they came flying through the air. A group of people, dressed in uniform white robes, flew in neat rows from the edge of the grassland.

Humanity?

The flying squirrel perked up. He had been in this world for three days, and all he had seen were dragons. He had thought that dragons were the only creatures in the world, and this was the first time he had ever seen a human.

He leaned closer to the telescope, preparing to take a closer look at where these people had come from.

Those people first flew to the Platinum Dragon King, said a few words, and then they turned around and flew directly above Nazarick. The sunlight made their white robes dazzling. The young man in the lead pulled out a piece of paper from his sleeve and unfolded it.

Then he heard the sound of the amplification magic being activated.

Then he heard the person's voice.

"That trash, Ainz Ooal Gown, is over there."

The flying squirrel was stunned.

"A monstrous alien leading a pack of inhuman beasts."

His fingers froze on the armrest.

"A bunch of idiots"

The red light in his eyes began to flicker violently.

"You have five minutes to come out, kneel down, and surrender!"

His bony fingers clenched, making a cracking sound.

"If you don't surrender, we'll tear down your dog shit grave for composting."

The flying squirrel started to glow green.

It was truly emanating; a faint green light seeped from the gaps in his skeleton, as if something was boiling within him.

"Arrest all of you and feed you to the dogs!!!"

The green light exploded.

The flying squirrel suddenly stood up.

The red light in his eyes had turned into two burning flames.

The throne room was eerily quiet.

The guardians nearby were also stunned, then shouted, "How dare you—!!!"

Shalltear's shriek nearly lifted the dome of the throne room, her long silver hair danced wildly, and her scarlet pupils churned with a murderous intent that seemed to solidify into reality.

She was trembling all over, not from fear, but from rage: "I'll tear him to pieces! Now! Right now!"

Cocytus didn't speak. He gripped the hilt of his sword with all four hands, his knuckles cracking as he clenched it. The God-Slaying Blade Emperor hummed in its sheath, a bloodthirsty tremor.

Aura leaped into the air, his whip cracking loudly as he lashed it: "Lord Ainz! Please allow me to fight! I'll show that bastard what it means to be—"

"Sister—" Mare called her softly, but this time, he didn't try to dissuade her, and his hand was already gripping the staff tightly.

Sebastian stood in the corner, his face still calm, but his fists were clenched tightly.

Demiurge's signature smile vanished, replaced by a chilling calm; something seemed to slowly solidify in his eyes behind his glasses.

Albedo stood to the side of the throne, her body emanating black energy. Everyone sensed that something was awakening within her.

She looked down at the person on the throne.

The flying squirrel sat back on the throne of the kings.

His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest once, twice, three times.

"Lord Ainz Ooal Gown," Albedo's voice was soft, as soft as velvet, but beneath that velvet lay a knife, "Give me your orders."

The flying squirrel did not answer. Through the telescope, he looked at the white figure still floating in mid-air outside. In his eye sockets, red light flickered uncertainly amidst green light.

"Lord Momonga," Demiurge's voice rang out, steady and restrained, but each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, "Please allow us—to respond to this greeting."

The flying squirrel remained silent, staring at the figures riding angelic horses in the mirror, at the platinum dragon, and at the ninety-nine silent dragons.

He knew this was a test. The insults were too deliberate, as if they were afraid the other party wouldn't get angry. They wanted to provoke them, make them lose their temper, and make them rush out.

But he tapped his fingers heavily on the armrest.

But so what?

He looked up, the red light in his eyes overpowering the green light.

"Shalltear." His voice was calm, as calm as the sea before a storm.

"Here!" Shalltear straightened up abruptly.

"Cocytus".

"exist."

"Aura, Mare."

"exist!"

"Sebastian, Demiurge, Albedo."

The three people stepped forward at the same time.

The flying squirrel stood up, his magnificent black robe fluttering silently in the dim light, and the crimson light in his empty eye sockets blazed like two burning flames.

"Prepare for war," he said.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a heavy hammer, striking the floor of the throne room and the heart of every guardian.

"Those hundred dragons—" He paused, his gaze passing through the telescope to the silent dragon silhouettes in the distance.

Leave it for now.

His gaze returned to the white figure. "First, crush this noisy bug."

"yes!"

The guardians responded in unison.

The flying squirrel looked back at the telescopic sight.

In the mirror, the human named Negan is suspended in mid-air, clutching a parchment in his hand, seemingly waiting for something.

The flying squirrel stared at him for a long time.

Outside the throne room, in the sunlight, Negan still held up the manuscript, waiting for a reply.

He waited a long time, so long that he began to wonder if he hadn't scolded her harshly enough.

Just as he was about to read it again, the tightly closed door of the great tomb suddenly moved.

>