NOVEL NEXT 003 💀 Albedo
“I’ve met Bukubukuchagama in real life too. She’s a petite, cute, and fashionable loli with a pretty face, and she’s a well-known voice actress. She even occasionally does some... special voice work, you know? A girl so adorable uses a grotesque pink slime character in the game, though. Quite the contrast.”
Momonga chuckled as he spoke, remembering the odd juxtaposition of Bukubukuchagama's real-life appearance and her in-game character. Her voice acting was well-known, and for a time, even her brother, Peroroncino, had been reluctant to interact with her in the game due to the strange dissonance between her public persona and the character she chose.
“And then there’s her brother, Peroroncino, the lolicon. The NPC he created, Shalltear, is basically a cute, goth loli to the extreme, but he has this... weird resistance to his sister’s ‘legitimate’ loli character. I remember him getting a limited edition game once, but when he found out his sister had voiced a character in it, he freaked out like it was some horror show and tossed the game away.”
Arnold listened silently, knowing that this kind of banter was typical of the guild's internal humor. Momonga, however, seemed to enjoy teasing him, especially with rare opportunities like this one.
“I think Bukubukuchagama had a bit of a crush on you, though, didn’t she? Didn’t she even sneak some... special voice lines into her sound packs for you? Are you planning to reach out to her in real life now that the game’s shutting down?”
Momonga's tone was filled with mischief, and despite the serious atmosphere, there was a teasing edge to his voice. Even if Arnold didn’t show it, he knew Momonga was enjoying this rare moment of being able to poke fun at him.
“Nah, it’s fine. Her life is way too out of my league.”
Arnold waved it off nonchalantly, a faint sense of bitterness hiding in his tone. Even his sharp, menacing tail swayed lazily behind him, mirroring his indifferent demeanor. Momonga sighed at this, realizing how much had changed over the years. With a sigh, he turned his gaze towards the guild’s staff.
The staff was a masterpiece, a symbol of their collective effort—crafted after Hermes' staff, adorned with seven golden serpents, each biting down on a different colored gemstone. The grip was translucent crystal that radiated a blue-white glow, and it was carefully kept in the Round Table area, untouched and safe. It was a symbol of their dedication, but Momonga had never used it. To destroy the staff would mean the destruction of the guild itself, and he could never bring himself to let that happen.
“Arnold, should we check the hall and see how the things everyone left behind are doing?”
“I don’t mind. But are you sure you’re up for it?”
Arnold's voice was calm, though his concern for Momonga was apparent. He knew that seeing the remnants of their guildmates—their possessions, their memories—would be a painful experience for the man beside him.
“Ha, don’t worry about me. I’m not that fragile anymore.”
Momonga smiled faintly, more to reassure Arnold than because he truly felt that way. He took the staff in his hands, and together, they made their way through the Nazarick tomb, walking past the empty halls and rooms filled with memories of their past. The first stop was the grand hall behind the Round Table. The hall’s design was a perfect blend of opulence and ancient elegance. Its walls had seventy-two alcoves, each holding a statue of a demon—an homage to the Seventy-Two Pillars of the Goetia.
“Lucifer started this whole thing with a few others who were obsessed with extravagant settings, so they made these statues. They didn’t finish them all—only sixty-seven before they got tired of the idea and shifted focus to creating random traps instead.”
Momonga laughed lightly, recalling how absurd their original plans had been. The traps were varied, and some were particularly devious—like the four-colored crystal on the ceiling, which, upon detecting an intruder, would release high-tier elemental spirits for a devastating area-of-effect counterattack. Of course, no one had ever reached this point to test the traps.
The floor was made of white marble, veins of deep purple crystal weaving through it. The ceiling lights were made from high-end gemstones and rainbow-colored crystals, giving the hall an ethereal glow. The hall was decorated with numerous majestic paintings and intricate carvings, each one a testament to the guild's opulence and the creators' dedication.
Momonga and Arnold passed under banners with intricate designs—each banner representing one of the guild's 42 members. The hall felt both familiar and alien, a place that had once been filled with the warmth of camaraderie but now was just an empty shell.
“I swear, all that’s left of Tabula are his obsessing settings...”
Arnold muttered under his breath, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked slowly across the lush carpet toward the throne. His voice was dry, with an edge of sarcasm, but there was a hint of fondness for their guildmate's obsessive dedication to details. It wasn’t a complete jab—Tabula Smaragdina had always put in the effort to bring their ideas to life.
Momonga, hearing Yano's comment, chuckled softly. “Yeah, Tabula and his traps. But hey, when it came to grinding, he was a force to be reckoned with. I can’t even count how many hours he spent tweaking those mechanisms.”
Arnold smirked faintly. “At least you’re not the one who spent 18 hours a day for weeks on end... not to mention the microtransactions you threw into the game.”
Momonga shrugged nonchalantly. “You still can’t beat me in terms of spending. Nazarick might as well have been called Nazarich with all the money you pumped into it.”
They exchanged a few more light-hearted jabs as they entered the Throne Hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the grand space. Time seemed to slip away faster in their easy camaraderie, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the throne.
“Arnold, sit down.”
Momonga gestured toward the throne at the far end of the hall. With a playful grin, he looked back at Arnold, but the next thing he knew, he shot him a look of disdain.
“You’re the guild leader, not me. You should sit in the throne.”
“Come on! You know I didn’t ask for that! It was all you and Touch Me-san who pushed me into that role!” Momonga protested, but in the end, Arnold shoved him onto the throne, standing by his side.
The two of them stood in silence for a moment, looking down at the figure sitting at the base of the throne. The person seated there was a woman in a luxurious white gown, her beauty radiating as if she were a perfect work of art. She had long, smooth black hair that cascaded down her back, and atop her head were two curved horns, giving her an otherworldly aura.
Her name was Albedo, and she was the NPC Guardian Overseer of Nazarick, one of the creations that Tabula had painstakingly crafted, spending days perfecting her face alone. Her beauty, her elegance, and her role as the guardian of the throne made her the perfect image of their guild’s power and grandeur.