Chapter 15: A Day in the Life of Ainz Ooal Gown

In a spacious and luxurious circular room, the floor was paved with polished black marble, overlaid with a thick, pale gold velvet carpet. The pristine walls were adorned with elegant sky-blue reliefs, interspersed with golden lily patterns.

Above, the curved dome was painted with extravagant yet delicate frescoes, and from its center hung a lavish twelve-armed crystal chandelier dripping with prisms. The room exuded a blend of romance and solemnity, radiating an air of opulent grandeur.

An uninformed visitor might mistake this for the imperial palace where the Baharuth Emperor received his ministers, but the massive rosewood bed inlaid with gold—big enough to sleep five—revealed that this was merely a bedroom.

A skeleton clad in cream-colored silk pajamas lay quietly on the silken bed.

It seemed this skeleton would remain in this extravagant bedroom forever, but suddenly, two crimson lights flared to life in the dark, hollow eye sockets of its skull, slicing through the tranquil darkness of the room.

Ainz Ooal Gown awoke. Or rather, it couldn't exactly be called waking, since after becoming an undead, Ainz no longer required sleep. Lying in bed at night and rising in the morning was simply a habit he maintained, a remnant of the biological clock he'd followed as a human before crossing into this world.

There was no helping it—he was a transmigrator, thrust into the body of an undead. Some human tendencies still lingered, unadjusted. Besides, during the endless nights, he had little else to do but lie in bed, letting his thoughts drift in a meditative haze.

The subordinates of the Great Tomb of Nazarick excelled at both combat and governance, leaving Ainz with few administrative duties to handle.

Though his fiercely loyal followers often sought his guidance with reverent enthusiasm, Ainz could only offer vague, symbolic direction.

Once a mediocre office worker scraping by, he now found himself ruling over the Great Tomb of Nazarick, commanding hundreds of capable lieutenants—a task that, frankly, left him feeling out of his depth.

Still, thanks to the formidable talents of his underlings, the path to world conquest marched on smoothly.

Ever since Ainz unleashed the Super-Tier Magic "Iä Shub-Niggurath" and wiped out 180,000 Kingdom troops in a single hour, the two major human nations, Re-Estize and Baharuth, had successively bowed to the Sorcerer Kingdom he'd founded, willingly becoming vassal states.

Re-Estize's surrender made some sense—after all, their main army had been damn near annihilated, and even their crown prince got snuffed out. But why the hell would Baharuth also step up and beg to be a subordinate state? Ainz couldn't wrap his head around it.

After the one-sided slaughter of the Kingdom's forces, Ainz had gone out of his way to visit the capital arena in Baharuth, squaring off against the arena's champion, the Martial Lord, in a friendly duel. He figured it'd be a nice gesture to cozy up to Baharuth's Emperor Jircniv.

But after the match, Jircniv—shaking like a leaf—practically tripped over himself to pledge vassalage, leaving Ainz totally stumped.

He'd even been thinking about hitting it off with Jircniv, maybe picking up some pointers on how to act like a big shot and run a country. Fat chance of that now.

Recalling the whole mess, Ainz let out a soft sigh, rolled out of bed, and tugged open the collar of his silk pajamas, ready to throw on something else. His eyes landed on the black-and-red gold-embroidered robe hanging on the rack—enchanted to never get dirty—but suddenly, he felt like switching it up.

He reached for the magic bell on the table, giving it a flick to summon the maid Yuri Alpha.

"Ding~" The chime rang out, but before Ainz could even bark an order to the maids on the other end, the bedroom door slammed open with a loud "bang." A lithe, snow-white bird darted in, black wings flaring behind it, and made a beeline for Ainz by the bed.

"Lord Ainz!" Albedo pounced, pinning the caught-off-guard Ainz to the mattress. Her flawless face shimmered with a hazy, sultry glow of lust.

She yanked open Ainz's pajamas, rubbing herself against his bare chest, her voice dripping with intoxicated delight:

"Lord Ainz in pajamas—damn, that's hot as hell! Oh! This solid chest, these perfect collarbones. Lord Ainz must be dropping hints for me to get down to business! All that waiting outside your bedroom door all night wasn't for nothing!"

Albedo's slender hands, clad in pristine white evening gloves, tugged loose the butterfly knot tying Ainz's pajamas, gearing up for the next move.

"Hey! Albedo, what are you doing!" Pinned to the bed, Ainz thrashed hard, inwardly cursing his rotten luck.

Back before he got sucked into this isekai mess, Ainz had tweaked Albedo's settings on a whim—flipping her from "promiscuous woman" to "madly in love with Momonga." And now, here he was, reaping the consequences.

("Momonga" was Ainz's old game handle. After crossing over from the game into this world, he'd swapped it out for his guild's name—Ainz Ooal Gown.)

Albedo had been throwing herself at him with borderline unhinged devotion ever since, but Ainz, now a top-tier undead, felt his cravings for romance and lust fading into nothing. Plus, as a bony-ass skeleton, he didn't exactly have the equipment to satisfy Albedo's urges. So, he kept shooting her down, stiff as a board—literally and figuratively.

"Let me go! I'm ordering you to let me go!"

Trapped under Albedo, Ainz forced out a commanding tone, trying to sound like the big shot he was supposed to be.

Normally, Albedo would've jumped through hoops to obey him, no questions asked. But right now, with her black wings flared wide and her eyes all sultry and dazed, she was squirming over him like a damn cat in heat, totally deaf to his words.

The great Overlord Ainz shoved at the Albedo sprawled across him, but she wasn't budging. In terms of raw combat power, Albedo was Nazarick's toughest shield—pushing her off was like trying to move a goddamn mountain.

Luckily, the rest of the Great Tomb of Nazarick caught wind of the chaos. Shalltear Bloodfallen was the first to barge in, her face twisted in panic as she yelled, "You big-mouthed gorilla! How dare you cut in line! Lord Ainz is mine!"

With that, she grabbed one of Albedo's arms and yanked hard. The maid Yuri Alpha dashed in next, wrapping her arms around Albedo and tugging backward. Then Solution, another maid, charged in, gripping Yuri's waist to add some muscle to the pull.

Sebas Tian, dressed in his sharp black tuxedo, jogged in and seized Albedo's other arm. The four of them heaved together like a damn tug-of-war team, finally prying Albedo off.

Sebas, still holding the thrashing Albedo, gave a quick apologetic bow before backing out of Ainz's bedroom step by step.

Ainz barely had time to catch his breath before Shalltear—petite and loli-sized—launched herself onto him. Her limbs clamped around him like an octopus, her eyes glistening with a pitiful, pleading look as she whined, "Lord Ainz, I want some too~."

"Cut it out…" Ainz fumbled, thrown into yet another wrestling match to peel Shalltear off him.

The shitshow finally died down. Dressed in his formal gear, Ainz patrolled the Great Tomb of Nazarick, eventually settling onto his throne. Along the way, he exchanged nods with each of the Floor Guardians—everyone except Albedo. According to Sebas, Albedo had locked herself in her room, sulking over her little meltdown.

Ainz thought about swinging by to cheer her up but stopped short at her door. He had no clue how to handle her borderline insane infatuation. Deep down, Ainz had a nagging feeling—Albedo's wild, unfulfilled love might one day lead to trouble.

Sure, Ainz had been a corporate drone without even a first love before crossing over, but he had at least seen enough to recognize the dangers. Back in the day, the shocking example of Makoto Itou from the anime School Days had left a lasting impression on him.

Glancing at the stack of reports on his desk, Ainz let out a small sigh and got to work on the paperwork. The pile of administrative crap looked intimidating, but in reality, he was just slapping his signature on it like a rubber stamp.

The NPCs' skills were just too freaking good—whether it was conquering nations or keeping the Great Tomb of Nazarick running like a well-oiled machine, they had it all locked down tight.

Skimming through the reports filled with slick decisions and clever plans, Ainz started worrying that his own meddling might just mess things up.

Looked like he'd have to sneak over to the Baharuth capital's palace more often, shadowing Emperor Jircniv up close to pick up some tricks on how to act like a top-tier boss. Decision made, Ainz flipped open the next report.

"Hm, not bad. Cocytus has whipped those lizardmen natives into a crack squad—I couldn't even pull that off. Wonder how Demiurge is holding up in the Roble Holy Kingdom? From his updates, the ranch is humming along nicely, and parchment's rolling into the Great Tomb of Nazarick like clockwork. Guess I don't need to sweat that either."

Ainz unfurled the message scrolls from the subordinates who'd left the Great Tomb of Nazarick, only to find jack squat he needed to lift a finger for.

"Why the hell am I suddenly bored?" Ainz tilted his head up at the glitzy, golden ceiling, sinking his skeletal frame deeper into the fox-fur-cushioned golden armchair.

"Man, if only I could track down the other Supreme Beings. Hell, even stumbling across another transmigrator would do."

The naive and clueless Overlord Ainz had no idea that, far off at the Baharuth border, a Heroine had already shattered the void, trekking thousands of miles just for him.