Dumbledore and the small contingent of Hogwarts' teaching staff approached the peculiar closet that served as their passage. A Vanishing Cabinet, or something like it—but unlike the paired Cabinets they knew, where one had to shut the door and reopen it on the other side, this was no box.
A thin film shimmered across the opening, like liquid glass, alive with shifting colors, as it rippled faintly with every breath of magic.
One after another they stepped through.
No wrenching sensation of Apparition, nor the nauseating drag of Portkeys. Instead, stepping through was like crossing beneath a gentle spring shower. A cascade of soft petals brushed past their shoulders, pink and weightless. For a fleeting moment, Dumbledore glimpsed the figure of a woman in flowing eastern garb, her sleeve trailing like mist, before she dissolved into the shimmer.
And they were through.
It was as though they had stepped into a shining dreamscape as the receiving room unfolded before them. It was vast, unnaturally lit, its marble floor gleaming like ice. Gold trim ran across the columns and chandeliers of crystal lit by spellfire floated serenely overhead. Glass birds perched in the fireplace mantle, their wings frozen mid-flight, so lifelike that one half-expected them to burst into song.
The furniture was tasteful and exquisite. A table laid with polished dishes gleaming, and silver goblets filled with wine that caught the light like rubies.
And there—in a recliner far too fine for his bulk sat Rubeus Hagrid.
"Ah," Dumbledore said softly, a smile flickering. "You seem to be doing well, Hagrid."
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid boomed, springing up at once, his face splitting into a grin as he brushed away the crumbs from his beard. "Never been better, Professor Dumbledore, sir. But—how're yeh all here?"
McGonagall exhaled, posture still taut. "We feared the worst when no word came back," she said sharply, though her eyes betrayed her warmth.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled faintly. "It is a relief to see you safe. Tell me, Hagrid… do you remember how you came here?"
"Aye, well," Hagrid scratched his head sheepishly, "truth be told, don' quite remember how I got in here. Fainted, I reckon. Next thing I knew, I was wakin' up in here."
"Curious," murmured Flitwick, eyes narrowing.
McGonagall cut across. "And you've been well treated?"
"Oh aye," Hagrid nodded at once. "Very courteous and friendly some of 'em are. They've been right kind to me here. Never in me life seen a place like this—clean as a whistle, food on the table quicker'n you can blink. Can't complain, not a bit. Though—" He frowned, scratching at his beard. "Funny sorts. Can't make heads nor tails o' what they're really thinkin'."
He gestured broadly, voice lowering with disbelief. "They say this place is underground. But it's too big—bigger'n anythin' could be underground. There's a whole forest. A great colosseum. An endless sky. Think they take me fer a fool? Like I haven't seen the Great Hall's ceiling meself?"
The professors exchanged glances.
Hagrid pressed on. "Forest's full o' strangest trees yeh've ever seen—glitterin', singin'. Beasts too, creatures I've never even read about in Fantastic Beasts."
Professor Pomona Sprout's eyes sparkled with interest. "Enchanted flora in a subterranean habitat! Extraordinary!" As Dumbledore recalled the Vivarium in the room of requirement.
"An' the food—blimey, it's somethin' else! You should try some, Professors. Tastes wonderful, an' I swear it does summat to yeh. Makes yeh feel spry. Stronger. Been eatin' for days now. I reckon I'm twice as strong as when I came in." He thumped a fist against his chest.
"Ah. We already had the pleasure, Hagrid," Dumbledore said gently, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite… astonishing."
"Ah, so yeh know then!" Hagrid said eagerly. "They even let me spar a bit—test me new strength. Didn' last long, mind, but still!"
Snape's face darkened. One pale hand covered his eyes as he muttered under his breath, "Merlin preserve us. This fool."
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, his tone quiet but probing. "And tell me, Hagrid—have you… perchance met their leader?"
Hagrid's grin dimmed. He shook his head. "No, Professor. Haven' seen 'im yet. They all call 'im Ainz-sama—that's the name. Speak of 'im like he's the strongest wizard—or whatever he is—that ever lived. Said I'd be meetin' 'im today."
And just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, the doors swung inward with a soft, heavy sound.
Two massive figures stepped through in perfect unison.
Two insectoid giants—towering nearly two meters, One had a dark, rhinoceros-like horn, its black carapace gleaming like onyx. The other was lighter, greenish, its jagged mandibles jutting like a stag beetle's. Compound eyes caught the light, glimmering with inhuman vigilance. Each carried a massive glaive that pulsed faintly with magic enchantments.
Their synchronized tread was heavy enough to make the floor tremble.
The professors stiffened. Several hands twitched toward their robes, fingers brushing wand hilts.
"Oi now, steady," Hagrid said quickly, spreading his massive arms as if to shield both sides at once.
"Don' let the looks fool yeh. Tha's Unchu an' Achu. Good sorts, both of 'em. Might look like they'd run yeh through, but they're as steady as old oak, loyal as they come. Been keepin' me company here."
As if to underscore his words, the two anthropomorphic-knights stopped in flawless formation. Their glaives struck the marble in unison, ringing like a bell. They did not bow, but the stillness they held was respectful, dignified.
"See?" Hagrid said, lowering his hand with a grin. "Wouldn' ask for better mates watchin' my back."
From behind them, Yuri emerged, her steps quiet but sharp as steel. She inclined her head with mechanical precision.
"Ainz-sama is ready to see you now," she said. "Please, follow me."
Unchu and Achu shifted aside at once, their movement so smooth it was as though one mind directed them both.
X
Entranced by the nigh-mythical scenes they had walked by, they now stood before a pair of vast double doors. Intricate carvings decorated both sides of the doors; a beautiful goddess on the right and a cruel-looking demon on the left. Countless ominous-looking statues were arrayed around them.
If one had to give it a name, it would probably be "The Gates of Judgment."
Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder to look at his faculty of teachers who had followed him here.
Everyone behind him ― with the exception of Hagrid ― had drawn in their shoulders.
This was the result of walking through all manner of wondrous sights before coming here, which had stolen their souls away.
The Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick was a tomb in name only. In truth, it was a beautiful world that was closer to a citadel of the gods than anything else. Their image of the ruler of this place, the wizard Ainz Ooal Gown, was overwhelming beyond description.
The smile on Dumbledore's face was filled with self-mockery. Humans would naturally bow their heads to those who exceeded them. In truth, even Dumbledore found it hard to control the impulse to gawk openly at his surroundings
'...This is truly troubling.'
Ainz Ooal Gown waited beyond that door. He was a wizard whose power surpassed even that of Merlin himself. Indeed, there might be nobody to equal him in the past or the future. His magnificent domicile far exceeded the capacity of humans to imagine, and his followers possessed incredible power. He was a being who possessed every possible advantage.
'Why had someone like that hidden in a place like this until now?' Although Dumbledore did not know the answer, he would probably find out soon enough.
At least, he hoped to learn that much during the discussions that were to follow.
As he gave voice to these thoughts, Dumbledore found that they were louder than he imagined. However, nobody around him reacted. They were too mesmerized by their surroundings.
"The Throne Room lies beyond. Ainz-sama waits for you within."
After that, Yuri announced that her part was over, and bowed deeply.
As though waiting for those words, the vast double doors swung open slowly, without being touched.
Several sudden intakes of breath reached Dumbledore's ears. It was not just one or two instances, but all of them who had come to this place. All the resolve they had mustered uptil now was gone with their desire to flee.
The chamber stretched impossibly wide and the ceiling vaulted high. The walls were predominantly white, with extensive gold decorations and highlights. Luxurious, multicolored chandeliers ― made of precious stones from all the colors of the rainbow ― depended from the ceiling, radiating a fantastic light. Huge flags hung from poles set into the walls.
This room was the epitome of a "Throne Room." There was no better word to describe a place like this. Dumbledore and the others blanched pale as an oppressive air swept over them from inside the room.
A crimson carpet ran down the center of the room, and flanking it were a series of immeasurably powerful beings.
There were Demons, Dragons, bizarre humanoids, armored knights, bipedal insects and Elves. Each was different from the other in size and appearance, but the one thing they had in common was the overwhelming might each of them possessed. These beings were arranged in two lines on either side of the carpet, and it felt too disheartening to count them.
They watched Dumbledore and company in silence. Although it was said that one could sense a certain kind of strength in the eyes of those with power or status, this was the first time Dumbledore had ever felt a physical pressure.
The sound of low moans and shuddering came from behind Dumbledore. Snape's breath hissed sharp between his teeth. Flitwick's knuckles whitened against his robes. Even McGonagall faltered a step. It was clear that they were all scared out of their wits.
But none turned back. Dumbledore felt a ripple of pride. He wanted to praise them, because every single one of them had conquered that fear and stayed behind him. The fact that they had remained steadfast in the face of these terrifying beings was to be lauded.
Dumbledore's threat evaluation of Ainz Ooal Gown rose by several dozen levels at once. His wariness had been revised ever upward since he arrived here. But even that had been far too naive.
This was not a threat to Hogwarts alone. This was a threat to the continued survival of the entire world ― wizards, magical creatures and muggles alike.
His eyes trailed the carpet forward.
At the far end rose a dais. Gathered there were Nazarick's chosen aides. A beautiful silver-haired girl. A towering insectile figure of frost-blue chitin. A toadlike man swathed in a suit. The twins from before.
And then—a boy.
Green eyes, vivid, unmistakable.
The boy was handsome, yes—but standing there, he seemed almost ordinary.
Ordinary only because around him stood either figures of impossible beauty, as though sculpted by gods—or horrendous grotesques so twisted they seemed born from nightmares. Among such extremes, his mortal plainness was a clear contrast.
Dumbledore's breath caught.
He had taught James and Lily. He had watched them grow. He had held their son as an infant.
Harry Potter.
The boy's face held no recognition. Only curiosity.
Dumbledore breathed eased—at least the boy did not look on him with enmity. And looking at the position he was standing in, it seemed he was given some importance here which maybe troubling in hindsight.
Above them, upon those stairs, was a beautiful winged woman, and just behind her―
"That is..."
Upon a crystal throne sat the physical incarnation of Death. It held a strange-looking staff in hand.
It was a monster with a bare skull for a head.
It was like a being that had been formed from concentrating and condensing the darkness into a single point.
―It was Ainz Ooal Gown.
A magnificent crown sat upon his head, and his body was cloaked in a luxurious sable robe. Rings glittered brightly on his fingers. Even from such a distance, Dumbledore could clearly tell that the exquisite accessories which Ainz wore were beyond the skills of even the goblin craftsmen.
Blood-red points of light glowed within the empty eye sockets of Ainz Ooal Gown's skull. As they swept over Dumbledore' and his professors, it felt as if they were tasting him.
He did not seem shocked by the fact that Ainz was not human. Instead, he was relieved that he was not human.
It was because Ainz was not human that Dumbledore could honestly accept that Ainz was a superior being that was far out of his league.
"Hu..."
Dumbledore exhaled quietly.
It was a sign of his resolve.
The door had been opened, but it had not been opened for long. Still, they could not wait out here forever. And so ― Dumbledore stepped forward.
"Let's go."
Dumbledore's words were quiet enough that only those behind him could hear them.
However, Dumbledore could not sense anyone moving in response to his words.
Advancing to stand before Ainz Ooal Gown meant that they would have to pass between the flanking lines of monsters. Though he knew that they would probably not attack them, walking in front of these creatures still required a great deal of courage.
His judgment that they would not be attacked was not simple optimism.
The reasons for using a throne room like this were for hosting events, as well as displaying their own power to outsiders. These were facts that anyone would know.
In other words, the reasons for choosing this place were to display the power of Nazarick, and to show that he had no intent of killing Dumbledore and his followers.
After all, if Ainz wanted to get rid of them, he could simply have brought them to a slaughterhouse instead.
Dumbledore's teaching personnel should have clearly understood that fact. However, that was not the reason why they remained immobile.
The main reason for that was simply because they did not want to go near those monsters.
Beyond the lines of monsters were Ainz Ooal Gown's aides. The power of those beings was clearly beyond the reckoning of sane men.
And upon the throne was Ainz Ooal Gown himself.
At great length, Dumbledore realized something in the depths of his soul.
He realized that they were standing in the presence of what men would call a god.
The pressure he was facing standing right at the front of the retinue was beyond the scope of any Occlumency training one had before. If he lost his focus but once, even the man known as the Grand Sorcerer would be able to do nothing but kneel before Ainz.
Still, it was precisely because of that reason that he had to go.
Just as Dumbledore was observing Ainz Ooal Gown, Ainz Ooal Gown was also observing Dumbledore. If he disapproved of what he saw, what would happen in the future? At the very least, he had to let Ainz recognize the value of Headmaster of Hogwarts, and by extension, the continued existence of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dumbledore laughed at his own naïveté.
What had he been thinking by a war of words.
'So this is what it means to regret something. Nothing else matters anymore. All I can hope for is to minimize the damage to the School.'
"Let's go!"
Dumbledore said resolutely to his subordinates, but more importantly to himself, in order to recall himself to life. He could sense his educators following him.
It was a very soft carpet, but to Dumbledore right now, it seemed far too light and ephemeral.
He firmly shunted aside the innumerable glares directed at him and moved forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the person that lay before him ― Ainz Ooal Gown. He had a hunch that if he turned his eyes from his objective, his feet would no longer be able to move.
At last, he reached the base of the steps, in front of Ainz's aides.
"Ainz-sama, this is the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who seeks an audience with you."
The sweet voice came from the winged woman standing beside the throne.
'Her sweet voice matches her radiant looks', Dumbledore thought.
In response, the being that was a veritable god of death spoke to Dumbledore.
"I am glad you have come, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the master of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, Ainz Ooal Gown."
A faint pang of relief ran through Dumbledore. His voice was more normal than he expected ― like that of a human being.
If that was the case, reading him from his words might yet be possible.
"I humbly thank you for your most generous welcome, Sir Ainz Ooal Gown."
One could not read facial expressions from a skull. What sort of opening would best fit the current situation? Dumbledore carefully pondered that question.
However, the one who spoke next was neither Dumbledore, nor Ainz.
"Ainz-sama. It is disrespectful for inferior species such as humans to address you as an equal," a man's voice said. "『Kneel.』"
The word slammed into them like a hammer.
Dumbledore's knees buckled before he even realized it. His palms struck the soft carpet, his body bowing as though dragged by invisible chains. Behind him, Hagrid, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Hooch—all collapsed in unison, forced flat against the ground. Not one of them could resist.
Every instinct screamed humiliation, danger, submission. Dumbledore tried to rise—willed his body to move—but his limbs trembled uselessly, pinned by the crushing weight of that single word.
"―That's enough, Demiurge."
"Understood!"
The toad-like monster called Demiurge bowed respectfully to its master.
"『Release control.』"
The pressure vanished at once. The unseen shackles broke. Their bodies were free again, but the sting of it lingered. Dumbledore heard the ragged breaths of his staff as they pulled themselves up, shame and fear heavy in the air.
"...Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, my subordinate has done something rude to a noble guest who has come from far away to visit my domain. The sins of the vassal are those of the liege, and as such I beg your forgiveness. I hope this is a matter which can be resolved with a bowing of the head."
Commotion and activity rose from the two files of monsters behind them.
'To cast an Unforgivable Curse so casually. Without wand or word, and yet seek dialogue afterward…'
Countless feelings danced up in Dumbledore's heart.
He was cautious, because he realized that Ainz was not the type who handled matters solely with brute force.
Similarly, he was relieved, because Ainz was not the type who handled matters solely with brute force.
Most importantly, he was afraid. He knew without a doubt that Ainz had the complete loyalty of all the monsters present here.
At the same time, Dumbledore had the sickening realization that everything that had happened so far had occurred in accordance with Ainz Ooal Gown's wishes. It was the ominous feeling that everything had taken place just as Ainz had planned.
"There is no need to apologize for that, Sir Gown. It is not uncommon for subordinates to go wild and do as they please. Some of mine have done the same themselves. Truly, I am disgraced."
'But, what does he want from me? I doubt he'll be satisfied with a simple apology after that spectacular show of force he put on.'
Initially, Dumbledore's plan was to divine and then play on Ainz Ooal Gown's desires, thereby turning the situation to his advantage. This whole pretense of making an apology was merely an excuse for achieving that aim.
However―
'As if I could begin to tempt someone as powerful as this. I couldn't do it, even if I used all the wealth I possessed.'
Dumbledore's wand trembled faintly in his hand. It had not stilled since they entered the Throne Room, quivering as though it too sensed the weight of the presence before them.
Ainz's gaze drifted.
Downward.
Then Dumbledore saw it.
The crimson pinpricks within Ainz's skull had lowered—not on him, but on the wand itself. A gaze too intent to mistake.
Dumbledore's heart skipped. 'So… that is what he desires.'
Dumbledore felt suffocated. Few in the wizarding world even believed the old tales. Fewer still suspected the truth of what he carried. 'How could this being know?'
Dumbledore should have immediately bowed his head, laying the wand before the throne, but he was delayed by his thoughts.
'Were the actions of Gown's minion intended to make me say what I just did? If that's the case, should I go off-script? No, that's not an option. This is like a staged fight with real blades. A single misstep will result in severe injuries... that would be very bad.'
Dumbledore drew a long breath. 'If he can wield it, then it is no longer mine. If not, then perhaps there is hope yet.'
"This is the Elder Wand. It has passed through the hands of many great wizards. For long it has rested with me. But I believe… it belongs to you, Sir Ainz Ooal Gown."
Several gasps were heard from behind him in the ranks of Hogwarts' teachers.
Slowly, with great ceremony, Dumbledore raised it across both palms and stepped forward as though presenting an offering at an altar.
The silence that followed was crushing. Ainz's gaze remained fixed, unreadable. Then, with steady motion, the skeletal overlord extended his hand. Fingers of ivory closed around the ancient wood. A silver ring, set with a rectangular cyan-blue gem, glimmered faintly on his hand, and for an instant the air stirred as though answering it.
Ainz raised the wand slightly and gave it a testing swish. At a glance, one might think he was simply trying it out, the way a child might heft a new toy—but a closer look would reveal the truth.
A black stain bloomed on the empty marble floor where the tip pointed.
Dumbledore did not turn his eyes from the horrifying sight of a fountain of black mist spewing upward, coiling into a form. Bone and steel knitted together in a hulking mass.
What stood before them was Death itself made manifest, a towering figure clad in jagged armor from which scythe-like blades jutted at cruel angles, its form wreathed in a foul black smog that seemed to leech the warmth from the air. A tattered, blood-stained cloak billowed behind it like a funeral shroud, and upon its skull sat a rusted crown set with a single crimson gem that burned with eerie life. In its skeletal grip rested a great war scythe, its curved blade drowning in the same miasma of negative energy, as if it could harvest not just the body but the very soul, a specter of inevitability and despair.
A collective gasp tore through the Hogwarts professors as Dumbledore's mind reeled.
'And here I thought he was Death itself… but he is more than that. He is the Master of Death. Was the essence of Death sealed in the wand all along? And with my own hands—I gifted it to him.'
The Elder Wand—the fabled Hallow.
Given away.
The crimson points in Ainz's eyes gleamed. His skeletal jaw shifted as he spoke, tone deep and resonant:
"This is a nice gift. I appreciate it."
Dumbledore's lips curved into a grandfatherly smile, though inside his stomach sank.
'Yes. I have just delivered Death into his hands.'
Feigning composure, Dumbledore inclined his head. "Of course not, Sir Gown. I merely return a treasure to its rightful owner."
"Then, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
"Ah, Sir Gown, Dumbledore will do. After all, it is a long name."
"Is it now? Well then, Professor Dumbledore. To begin with, allow me to apologize for that unsightly display just now. Given that my ill-mannered vassal gave offense to you and those under your command, I will consider the matter of that small invasion of Nazarick settled. Then, that is all. Although I have made you come a long way, you are now free to leave."
"―Hah?"
Dumbledore did not understand what he had just heard.
"Ah, forgive me. I fear I may have misheard your words. Could I trouble you to speak them to me once more?"
"There is no need for you to apologize. It will be fine if you return home. After all, we will be getting quite busy over here shortly."
Ainz shrugged, like he was joking.
Dumbledore had no idea what was going on any longer.
Could it be that he had shown such power only to dismiss it as nothing? To take the Elder Wand, command Death itself—and now speak of forgiveness, as though it were a trivial thing. None of this added up.
'―Wait a minute! What did he just say?'
"Forgive me, but what did you mean by 'getting very busy'?"
"Thanks to you, we now know that we will be drawn into troublesome matters even if we try to keep a low profile. That being the case, I was thinking of moving to the surface and personally dealing with all these troublesome things."
"That, that would mean..."
"First, we will have those who plot against us pay the price for their foolishness. After that, we will crush all the troublesome people we encounter until the peace I so cherish is restored."
These words were the ranting of a lunatic.
No ― that would be wrong. He was not mad. When one considered Ainz Ooal Gown's abilities, his military and economic strength, those words were not mad at all. It was only Dumbledore ― blinded by his limited experience ― who found it hard to accept the facts.
Ainz Ooal Gown was a man who could do all that.
An uncontrollable feeling of dread welled up from beneath Dumbledore's feet.
The Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. It was a monster which had secluded itself away quietly. Now it had opened its doors, and it was about to take its first steps on the surface world.
'Could it be that he called me here for this? Is this a declaration of war?! What should I do? Ainz Ooal Gown is essentially saying he will declare war on the World in the future! I should be kneeling before him now, right?'
In truth, he felt that was the wisest thing to do.
However—he did not think the people would prosper by accepting a monster's rule. If things went badly, there was every possibility that Ainz might simply kill everyone and reanimate them as Inferi.
That would be a fate worse than death.
Dumbledore racked his brains like he had never done before in his life. By rights, he ought to have brought this matter before the Wizengamot—to debate it with the Ministry's finest minds, to weigh every possible course of action. But by then, it would be far too late.
With a smile that cut through everything, Dumbledore spoke.
"I have a proposal. How about forming an alliance?"
"Are you confusing us with your lackeys ― uwah!"
A clear, bell-like voice rang forth, followed by the sound of something moving swiftly. The silver-haired girl frowned slightly, while Aura, standing beside her, pretended to act dumb.
Although Dumbledore's dynamic vision was not good enough to see what had happened, it would seem the Dark Elf had kicked the silver-haired girl in the leg.
"...Oi, you―"
"―You're making too much noise. Quiet down."
With a gesture befitting a demon king, Ainz majestically waved his left hand to motion for silence.
Such regal movements could only have been born of long years of rulership.
Dumbledore's alertness level went through the roof.
I see, he has presided over this land as its ruler for a long time. To think he had such a dignified bearing...
The two girls spoke at once, expressing their regret for their foolishness.
He could not sense a hint of the arrogance that Aura had given off while in the school. Right after that, he glanced at Ainz Ooal Gown, hoping that he had his subordinates fully under control. Then he screwed up his courage and prepared to speak.
This was the main event.
His tongue moistened his dry lips.
Dumbledore picked the finest plan he could think of from the numberless plots and stratagems he had come up with in the short time until now.
"You have built a magnificent realm, Sir Gown. Yet the world beyond has changed much since… the time you once knew. Magic, knowledge, and the hearts of men are no longer as they were. If I may suggest—you might wish to take time to observe this new age. My school could serve as that bridge."
He took a slow breath.
"If you would allow it… perhaps the boy, Harry, might study among us. Through him, you could learn of our world—and we of yours."
For a long moment, silence reigned.
Then—
Ainz's movements stilled. His gaze, which had drifted almost idly before, now fixed upon Dumbledore with absolute precision. The twin red flames within his skull dimmed, swallowed by a suffocating blackness until only two pinpoints of crimson burned like distant stars. The temperature seemed to drop. The air itself grew heavy, pressing against lungs and bone alike.
The professors behind Dumbledore stiffened, instinctively shrinking back.
When Ainz spoke, his voice resonated like a cathedral bell struck at midnight — majestic, and terrible.
"I am the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown. Long ago—in the age men have long forgotten—I stood alongside forty others who shaped this world. Together, we ruled with harmony and with strength. But, such times were fleeting. One by one, my comrades departed… for reasons I could not stop, to destinations I could not follow.
In the end, only I remained—left to watch over the creations they entrusted to me. Their children. Their legacy. Their dreams. They left this Tomb in my care, for it was my duty as the leader and so I sealed it… sealed myself within it, to wait. For their return. For eternity, if need be.
For ages, there was only silence. Then, a decade ago… the boy appeared. Brought by fate, carrying with him a spark of something I thought lost—hope."
He turned slightly, the hollow sockets of his skull glinting red as they fell upon Harry.
"The boy grew under my gaze. And then they came. Bringing destruction and chaos to this sanctuary of solitude."
His voice deepened, echoing like the grinding of a tomb's door.
"And now, you stand before me and tell me he does not belong here. That his fate lies in the world unknown?
Do not mistake my patience for weakness. Do not think I fear your world. If I must rise once more to protect what is mine—then I shall rule again—as we once did, eons ago."
Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, calm though his heart pounded like a drum. "I never meant disrespect, Sir Gown. Only that two great worlds need not collide. I seek understanding, not division. Hogwarts stands not to take, but to learn, and to offer friendship. Cooperation, not conquest."
Ainz's gaze lingered for a long, dreadful silence. Then, at last, the tension in the air eased—barely.
"If that is your wish, then it shall be so. However… if the boy is to study in your school, then some of my other subordinates shall do the same. Those under my command shall walk among your students—to learn of this new world, as you have suggested."
His words carried no hint of suggestion—only decree.
For an instant, Dumbledore forgot to breathe. "…Your subordinates, you say?"
"Yes," Ainz replied simply. "They have much to observe, and I would see their understanding shaped by the place you speak of with such pride. Consider it an exchange of culture. Surely the Headmaster of Hogwarts would not refuse the chance to educate eager minds?"
It wasn't a question.
Behind Dumbledore, the other professors stiffened, understanding all too well what had just happened. Ainz's "proposal" left no room for refusal.
'Of course. He understood everything in an instant. He's not sending them to learn. He's sending them to watch us… to make sure even Hogwarts lies beneath his shadow.'
Forcing his breathing to remain even, Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "That is… a generous offer, Sir Gown."
Generous. The word felt bitter in his mouth.
'This is precisely why he is terrifying. If he had sent a teacher, or a bodyguard, I could have refused. I could've found a pretext like—improper influence, unsafe methods, political concern. But as students? How could I refuse children? Even if those children could topple armies! Who would question them?—who would dare lay blame upon them, knowing what they are capable of?'
"Excellent. Then it is settled. I will leave the details to you."
Ainz inclined his head slightly. The crimson fires in his eye sockets flared faintly, a gesture that might have been satisfaction—or amusement.
Ainz had agreed so fast that it left Dumbledore dumbfounded. It was almost disappointing. He had not expected things to go so smoothly.
To begin with...
'Why didn't he ask me to swear loyalty to him? As an overwhelmingly superior individual in an infinitely advantageous position, why would he accept this proposal?'
He had prepared dozens of answers for when Ainz demanded fealty from him.
But Ainz's answer had exceeded the scope of Dumbledore's predictions.
What was he up to?
Dumbledore could not understand Ainz's thinking at all.
When battling a stronger opponent, a weaker man would fight by thinking of how to trip his opponent up. This was how one exploited the arrogance of the strong. But if the stronger opponent was not an arrogant being, then that tactic was unusable. The weaker man's only way of fighting would have no effect.
That was how Ainz was. He would never act in a way that let others feel he was arrogant.
No―
'As I thought, it's possible that everything up till now has been going according to Ainz's plans. After all, the delay in his reply was far too short. Did that mean he already predicted all my possible choices and prepared the appropriate responses?'
Dumbledore was keenly aware that the frightening thing about the being called Ainz Ooal Gown was not merely his matchless might, but also his unfathomable intellect.
"Is, is that so. Then, that is wonderful. Could, could you tell us if there is anything we can do for you?"
"I cannot think of anything right now. However, I would like to establish a venue where I could station emissaries from our end. I would like some way of quickly communicating with yourself..."
If all was really going as Ainz planned, then there was no way he would not have thought of everything. In that case, had this entire exchange simply been a coincidence?
'No, that might be a bluff as well. He must have thought that he would be seen through if he stated his demands immediately. What a cunning monster he is. Or rather... perhaps it's because he's a monster that his intellect surpasses that of mankind.'
"Ah, yes, indeed. How foolish of me for not having thought of that. I expected nothing less of you, Sir Gown."
"...Ah."
'Is he not a fan of pleasantries?'
After hearing that half-hearted response, Dumbledore made a mental note of that data point.
"Then, I shall return first. I will leave my Keeper of the Keys here. Could you discuss the details with him? ...Rubeus Hagrid!"
"Aye, Professor. I'll handle it."
Dumbledore felt an ache in his chest seeing Hagrid's earnest response. Despite him staying here previously, Dumbledore didn't want anyone to stay here a minute longer.
"Very well. I welcome his presence. He shall be treated as an honored guest within Nazarick." Ainz said joyously as Dumbledore quietly lamented Hagrid's fate. However, as Dumbledore heard Ainz's next words, he realized how naive he had been.
"Now then, the present situation is different from before. You are now an ally of Nazarick, Professor Dumbledore. To send you home in such haste seems rude. Since you have come all this way, why not spend the night here? I shall prepare a warm welcome for you."
'So it's not just Hagrid, he wants to get everyone here as well?!'
Worse, he might be planning an even more wicked scheme. No matter what, it was hard to believe staying the night was an innocent act of charity with no ulterior motives.
"No, no, no, we could not possibly trouble you. After all, we must return to make preparations."
"Is that so? That is a shame. Then, if it is convenient― no, please allow one of my servants to send you home."
The thought of riding a Dragon came to mind, and curiosity welled up at Ainz's suggestion. Still, Dumbledore waved that prospect aside. There was no way Ainz would simply transport him home, and he did not wish to owe Ainz a favor.
"I am deeply appreciative of your most generous offer and I thank you for it.
However, I feel that since I came on a carriage, I should return the same way."
"An undead headless horse could run day and night without sleep―"
"―Please forgive me, but I must respectfully decline."
"Must you? I see."
He could sense that there was some disappointment in those words. Was it an act, or was it the truth? Dumbledore could not tell, although he suspected it might be an act.
"Then, we shall take our leave."
"Very well. Demiurge... escort our guests outside."
"No, no, there is no need to trouble... well, since this is a rare opportunity, how about the maids? I have never seen such beautiful women before."
Ainz cricked his neck in surprise.
―It was an incredibly fake movement.
Dumbledore fought to keep his anger under control as he smiled to Ainz.
He must have known that they were wary of Demiurge, yet he had sent him out anyway, as though to mock them.
He had no intention of forming an alliance. This was a roundabout way of telling Dumbledore exactly who was in charge here.
'I've never seen such evil before... he's a threat to world's continued survival…'
"Ah, thank you for your praise. Then, please speak with the maids waiting outside. Ah, what a fine day for forging an alliance. How I wish I could make it a festival."
'You mean, to celebrate the day you made slaves of us?!'
As he screamed internally, Dumbledore smiled to Ainz once more.
"Indeed. Yes... Indeed."