Overlord: The Wandering Sorcerer Chapter 23 — The Name in the Ring
The road north was considerably less pleasant than Momonga had expected.
Not because of monsters.
Not because of the weather.
Because everyone in the group had questions.
And none of them had answers.
For several hours, they traveled without speaking.
Momonga walked at the front.
Nabe remained beside him.
Evileye occasionally flew ahead to scout the road before returning.
Nariel followed quietly.
The masked undead brought up the rear.
Eventually, Evileye broke the silence.
“There’s something I don’t understand.”
Momonga glanced back.
“Only one thing?”
She ignored the joke.
“Why did that dungeon react to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“It called you a Supreme Being.”
“I know.”
“It tried to make you its master.”
“I know.”
“And then it rejected you.”
Momonga stopped.
“That is the part I don’t understand.”
Evileye landed beside him.
“You think the dungeon made a mistake?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Momonga looked at the guild emblem in his hand.
“I think it recognized me correctly.”
Evileye frowned.
“But you aren’t the guildmaster.”
“Not of that guild.”
The masked undead suddenly spoke from behind them.
“That’s the distinction that matters.”
Everyone turned.
He continued walking.
“The system didn’t identify you as its guildmaster.”
Momonga looked at him.
“Then what did it identify?”
The undead pointed at the emblem.
“A guildmaster.”
Momonga’s eyes narrowed.
“Any guildmaster?”
“Perhaps.”
Nariel shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
She seemed uncomfortable.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“Why?”
“Because the tomb reacted differently when you entered.”
Momonga waited.
“It didn’t react to you as a stranger.”
She touched the black mark on his cloak.
“It reacted as if it had been waiting for you.”
Momonga became silent.
Nabe looked toward him.
“Perhaps someone changed the records.”
“Who?”
“The player.”
Momonga nodded.
“Possible.”
The masked undead laughed softly.
“You really like complicated explanations.”
Momonga looked back.
“You have been alive for centuries.
You’re allowed to criticize.”
“Fair.”
They continued north.
By evening, they reached an abandoned stone bridge.
The road beyond it disappeared into thick forest.
Evileye looked at the bridge.
“This wasn’t here the last time I traveled north.”
Momonga examined it.
“How long ago?”
“About eighty years.”
“Then it was built recently.”
“Recently?”
Nariel smiled.
“In this world, eighty years isn’t recent.”
Momonga looked at her.
“You’re right.”
He stepped onto the bridge.
Halfway across, the black mark on his cloak began glowing.
Momonga stopped.
Nabe immediately drew her sword.
“Again?”
The masked undead looked around.
“No.”
“What?”
“This isn’t the tomb.”
Momonga sensed it too.
The magical energy was different.
Older.
More refined.
And strangely familiar.
He looked at his hand.
The guild emblem was vibrating.
Then the ring on the masked undead’s neck began glowing.
Momonga stared.
“You said the guild emblem was all you had.”
The undead looked down.
“It was.”
“Then what is that?”
He touched the ring.
His expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
Momonga stepped closer.
The ring had appeared from nowhere.
It wasn’t there before.
A black metal band.
No decoration.
Except for one tiny symbol.
A crescent moon.
Momonga’s eyes widened.
“That’s a YGGDRASIL symbol.”
The undead stared at it.
“I know.”
The ring suddenly spoke.
Not aloud.
Inside their minds.
ACCESS CODE ACCEPTED.
Everyone froze.
A second message appeared.
GUILD MEMBER DETECTED.
Momonga looked at the undead.
“You’re a guild member.”
The undead shook his head.
“No.”
The ring pulsed.
MEMBER STATUS: PENDING.
Momonga’s expression changed.
“What does that mean?”
The ring displayed another message.
MEMORY RESTORATION AVAILABLE.
The undead took a step backward.
“No.”
Momonga stared at him.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Because I already know what I’ll see.”
Momonga understood.
“You saw the guild fall.”
The undead laughed bitterly.
“I saw everything.”
Silence.
Momonga lowered his staff.
“Then don’t.”
The undead looked at him.
“What?”
“You don’t have to.”
The undead stared.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then he slowly touched the ring.
The light disappeared.
“Thank you.”
Momonga nodded.
Nabe looked at him.
“You understand him.”
Momonga smiled faintly.
“I understand being afraid of memories.”
They crossed the bridge.
That night, they made camp in the forest.
There was no fire.
Momonga didn’t need one.
Neither did Nabe.
Evileye complained anyway.
“I miss normal adventurers.”
“You’ve traveled with me for too long.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Nariel smiled.
For a while, everything felt almost normal.
Then the masked undead spoke.
“I remembered something.”
Momonga looked at him.
“What?”
“The name.”
“The guild?”
“Yes.”
Everyone became silent.
Momonga sat upright.
“What was it?”
The undead stared into the darkness.
“Night’s Covenant.”
Nariel’s expression changed.
“You remembered.”
“Yes.”
“Then you remember the Master.”
The undead nodded.
“His name was…”
He stopped.
The ring began glowing.
Momonga waited.
The undead whispered:
“Seraph.”
Evileye frowned.
“Seraph?”
“That was his player name.”
Momonga searched his memories.
He knew the name.
Not well.
But he had seen it.
In YGGDRASIL forums.
A legendary player.
A member of an infamous guild.
One of the few players who had disappeared before the final shutdown.
Momonga stared.
“I remember him.”
The undead smiled.
“Then you understand.”
“Not completely.”
“He was obsessed with the New World.”
Momonga’s eyes narrowed.
“He knew about it?”
“Yes.”
“Before the transfer?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
The undead looked at the stars.
“He found a way to access it.”
Momonga became completely still.
“What do you mean?”
“Before we were transferred here, Seraph discovered something.”
“What?”
“A connection.”
“Between YGGDRASIL and this world?”
“Yes.”
Evileye looked confused.
“What world?”
Momonga answered quietly.
“The New World.”
She stared at him.
“You mean this place existed before YGGDRASIL?”
“Apparently.”
The undead nodded.
“Seraph believed YGGDRASIL was not a game.”
Momonga frowned.
“What did he think it was?”
“A window.”
“Into another world?”
“Yes.”
Momonga stared into the darkness.
That theory changed everything.
If YGGDRASIL had been connected to the New World…
Then perhaps the players hadn’t been transported here randomly.
Perhaps they had been pulled here.
Over and over.
For centuries.
Momonga looked at Nabe.
“What if the system isn’t transporting players?”
Nabe understood.
“What if it’s calling them?”
Momonga nodded.
The masked undead smiled.
“Now you understand.”
Evileye stood.
“Then why?”
Nobody answered.
Nariel finally spoke.
“Because something here needs them.”
Momonga looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed toward the north.
“The World.”
Silence.
“The World?”
Nariel nodded.
“Seraph believed the New World itself was changing.”
“Changing how?”
“Growing.”
Momonga frowned.
“Growing?”
“Every time a player arrives, the world changes.”
Evileye looked disturbed.
“That’s impossible.”
Nariel shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at Momonga.
“That’s what the ancient records say.”
Momonga thought about the legends.
The Six Great Gods.
The mysterious Dragon Lords.
The appearance of World-Class Items.
All separated by decades or centuries.
A pattern.
Not random.
A cycle.
Players appeared.
The world changed.
Then another generation arrived.
Momonga whispered:
“It’s been happening repeatedly.”
The masked undead nodded.
“For centuries.”
“And Seraph discovered this?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
The undead’s smile disappeared.
“He tried to stop it.”
Momonga’s eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“He built the guild.”
“Why?”
“To create a place where the next player could be contained.”
Momonga froze.
The answer hit him.
The guild wasn’t created to rule the world.
It wasn’t created as a kingdom.
It was a prison.
A prison designed for players.
And the empty throne wasn’t a throne of power.
It was a containment mechanism.
Momonga looked at the guild emblem.
“That’s why the succession system rejected me.”
The undead nodded.
“It wasn’t trying to make you the master.”
“It was trying to contain me.”
“Yes.”
Nabe’s expression hardened.
“Then the tomb is dangerous.”
Momonga shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
He looked toward the north.
“If Seraph built it to protect the world from players…”
He paused.
“…then he may not be our enemy.”
The masked undead laughed.
“That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
Momonga looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because Seraph is waiting for you.”
Momonga froze.
“What?”
The undead pointed north.
“That’s where he’s hiding.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I remember the final order.”
Momonga stared.
“What order?”
The undead looked directly at him.
“Find the next player.”
“And?”
“Bring him to Seraph.”
Momonga stood.
“And now?”
The undead smiled.
“Now I’ve found you.”
The forest became completely silent.
Then a voice came from somewhere in the darkness.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
A figure stood between the trees.
Black cloak.
Silver hair.
Golden ring.
The same figure Momonga had seen watching them from afar.
The stranger stepped into the moonlight.
The masked undead immediately stood.
“You…”
The figure smiled.
“Hello.”
Momonga raised his staff.
“Seraph.”
The man smiled.
“That name hasn’t been spoken in a very long time.”
Nabe moved beside Momonga.
Evileye prepared a spell.
Nariel stared at the newcomer.
Momonga remained perfectly still.
“You are the Master.”
Seraph nodded.
“Yes.”
“You’re alive.”
“Obviously.”
“You built the guild.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been watching us.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew I was coming.”
Seraph smiled.
“No.”
Momonga frowned.
“I didn’t.”
Seraph looked directly at him.
“I was waiting for someone.”
“Who?”
Seraph’s gaze shifted toward Nabe.
“Her.”
Nabe’s eyes narrowed.
Seraph smiled.
“Because she was never supposed to come here.”
Momonga’s grip tightened around his staff.
“Explain.”
Seraph’s expression became serious.
“That is exactly why I came.”
He looked at Nabe.
“You are not an ordinary NPC.”
Nabe froze.
Momonga’s eyes widened.
Seraph continued.
“You are something my guild created.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Seraph shook his head.
“What’s impossible is that you exist.”
He looked at Momonga.
“And the fact that you brought her here…”
His smile disappeared.
“…means the system has made a mistake.”
A pause.
“Or someone changed it.”
Momonga stared at him.
“Who?”
Seraph looked toward the stars.
“I don’t know.”
Then he looked back at them.
“But I know where we can find the answer.”
“Where?”
Seraph pointed north.
“At the place where the first player arrived.”
Momonga’s eyes glowed.
“Then let’s go.”
Seraph smiled.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”