Hastur fell hard to the ground, his body was covered in terrible wounds. Many would not even consider the possibility of surviving such mortal wounds, however Hastur just shrugged it off, as he pulled himself together. The talons along with his tentacles regrew at impossible speeds – by the time he stood, no trace of the cruel battle was left on his colossal body.

What is this impossible situation? How could a mere mortal stand as an equal before him? He flashed his cursed sign to him many times throughout the struggle, however the mortal had no reaction. He didn't understand, he couldn't comprehend how anyone could resist his sign. Time to time he would catch a flash of divinity from the skeletal overlord, however it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Was he holding back? How could he? Why would he? Was he confident in defeating him without the full extent of his might? Laughable. Why else would he mask his power? His many eyes opened and focused on a falling star. It was beautiful, so magnificent in fact that for a moment he forgot about the ongoing struggle. The star soon fell to the ground, and with it, darkness returned to the night sky.

A skeletal hand reached out from the crater as the skeleton stood up ever so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Hastur hated to admit it, but he couldn't land a single hit on the undead. He felt offended that such a lowly creature would dare to resist him. However, he couldn't deny the fact that the skeleton had power worthy of respect, but he couldn't bring himself to accept humiliation, defeat at the hands of a lower life form.

He felt it. Time was running out, soon they would know of his breach into a new world, and they would imprison him again. Though, he couldn't murder Cthulhu, at least he met the one who did.

First, he had his doubts about the claims of the overlord, now after feeling his power first-hand, he could imagine Cthulhu losing. More so if the skeleton really did hold back during their bout. He pulled back, and his monstrous form shrank. Soon he stood there, his repulsive features hidden by his mask and cloak.

He eyed carefully the undead, wondering if said skeleton had the wisdom to stop his advance. Indeed, he had. He instantly recognized his intent and reacted according to it. Though, he still seemed tense and ready to battle. Hastur smirked behind his mask, as he called for truce.

Ainz observed carefully the Yellow King as he made gestures that of a practiced diplomat. Ainz had his prejudice towards the elder gods, however if he could stop the battle here, than he would do so with pleasure. He was running out of option already, and it's been only a few hours since their battle has begun.

Cthulhu was much weaker in comparison, however maybe it was more like that he was much more powerful now. Although, he managed to escape each hit by a hair's length as he dodged, teleported, and redirected each of the attacks, he was also glad that he had many of his minions capable of fight take place in the battle, if nothing else they had held off the monstrosities of the Yellow King.

Ainz understanding the implication of the king's move, although warily he closed the distance between them, while he cast several delayed spells. Ones which could negate any damage once, the likes of {Body of Effulgent Beryl} and many others to compensate for other kinds of attacks as well. By the time he was face to face with a white mask he was enveloped in over 20 such spells, so even if it was a little overkill, he was confident in his ability to fall back, and escape if the time calls for it.

As a good host Ainz conjured up two thrones facing each other, he took one and he was pleasantly surprised to see that the Yellow king did so without any hesitation. Ainz's mind wondered back to the times when he was still a businessman.

It has been a while since he had last used his knowledge in commerce, and negotiation so the memories were a bit foggy, but he was confident in his ability that if it came down to that, he could get a favorable deal.

Evileye watched flabbergasted how the two incomprehensible beings after a battle that could simply not be described by the words of mortals sat down talking like two old friends. She wondered if the struggle in the past days a greeting of sorts or a form of entertainment was. Afterall for beings such as these, the struggles of heroes and demons would be not even worth their notice.

Afterall, they couldn't very well enjoy themselves fighting ants like her, like them. She clutched her little fists, while making her resolution. She would find a way, a way to survive and escape this place. Originally, she planned to leave while the battle was still ongoing, however she decided against it, because she judged it to be too dangerous.

She would hide, and wait here for them to leave, after that she would rush back to the capital where the undead, she made still lingered. She would collect them, hide away, and wait for the opportunity when she can reenter society after the beings are gone.

She doubted that they couldn't feel her presence, however what is an ant to a god? Why would they care? At least she dearly hoped that that was the case. She saw as the one garbed in golden cloth fazed out of existence, however her relief was short lived when the crimson orbs of the undead god flickered over to her. She was at the focus of the absolute master of life and death in this place.

At that moment, all hope was ripped away from her.

She saw a skeletal hand reaching for her before everything became blurry, then there was darkness. Strangely she felt the darkness welcoming, calming even. She accepted her fate – it was her punishment for murdering so many innocent people, she thought as much.

It has been over a decade since their first meeting. Ellee recalled as she gazed at the flag hanged high above. It fluttered in the autumn wind undisturbed by the constant glare of the young ruler.

She always found that flag a little frightening, as it symbolized a skull, woven into the delicate material. Why was he so adamant about having it displayed? – It was a mystery to her. However, she recalled something along the lines of memories. Memories of ages long past…

She still didn't dare pry further into the past of the Overlord, the being with absolute power who proved his might time and time again, but what she found out still brought goosebumps every time it resurfaced. The truth, the origin of his husband's power.

Her husband was old, very old, more ancient than the world itself. He had spoken of worlds other than this one, worlds where gods battled every day, where monsters such as the greed kings or the dragon lords would count as nothing more than fodder for the truly powerful.

She shuddered at the thought. How could he survive such a cruel and unforgiving world? It didn't take long for her to realize that it was due to his might. His unparalleled magical and physical might. She didn't want to pry further into the past, as it was plain to see, that it was a bloody one. However, sometimes his husband would be overcome with melancholy and break into long stories of his past, his struggles.

Every time however, it would all link back to a mutual point – his comrades, his friends. It was plain to see that he loved his comrades very much so. This had contradicted any general truths about the undead, however her husband had always achieved impossible feats with relative ease, so she couldn't just dismiss it.

As the years passed, she became certain of it, his husband was truly a good man. Not a malicious monster his looks suggested. Between all the miracles he had performed for the nation, it had also helped to further his popularity among the people, that he was approachable, well if people had the courage that is.

Over the years she had made many advances, trying to take their relationship to the next level, however it proved to be hard, almost futile. Ainz had no desire for her flesh, for her love, however it was obvious he longed for the company of others.

No matter whom he spoke to, none would approach him for longer periods of time, it seemed as though people wanted to run away from him as soon as they could. She couldn't blame them, because his appearance screamed evil, however that didn't change the fact, that ever since coming here he had only helped them, made their lives better. He deserved better, he did.

She recalled once more the many times she had tried to charm him, though futile it may have been she still didn't stop trying. Then one day, after a goodnight's sleep an idea came to her. Her husband was the greatest magical caster, more awesome than gods, more powerful than dragon lords! Surely, he had the power to gain flesh, the ability to reconstruct his body from scratch.

She couldn't help the smile forming on her face. – It is perfect. She thought.

She happily skipped down the corridor, imagining the face her dear husband would make.