It has been so long. A life time, or two? Momonga didn't know. He spent his days in seclusion.

He traveled the whole continent in the first few decades, with his curiosity sated he settled down.

Atop the highest peak of the Trist mountain range he spent his days. Throughout the years he had accumulated countless artefacts, treasures and books. He never had the interest, nor the time to go through such low level items, nonetheless the books were great source of information. The only problem was, he had too damn many! He never had time to read them all, he always thought that.

At least until the day, when he reached the boundaries of the new world. First, he tried to leave the continent, to try and find other magical lands, which hide their own secrets and treasures, but alas to no avail. Every time he would try to leave the massive land mass some invisible force would knock him back to the reaches of the continent. {Fly} did not work, nor did {teleportation}. Then, he had a crazy idea. "If I can't go above I will go below." He thought.

Thus was the story born of a skeleton who marched on the sea floor trying to cross the distance between continents. Even though he had to credit himself for such a marvelous idea, in the end it proved fruitless. The barrier separating the continent from the rest of the world was present here all the same.

He was frustrated, but he couldn't overcome it at the moment. He made up his mind, that he will find a way across the world border at all costs to find his friends, and now he marked another problem awaiting for solution.

…

He spent his days admiring the landscape from atop the peak of the mountain. The opening of his cave just happened to be so perfectly formed so he could admire the landscape at his leisure. Magic had absolutely nothing to do with it. I mean absolutely.

He frequently thought of his friends back in the real world, and how much fun they would have if they could be here. He researched tirelessly a way to open a gateway to the real world, hell he even looked into countless other unrealistic possibilities.

To this day, he had found nothing. Nothing but wild fantasies of the native people of the world. Though, he was grateful that he had a perfect translation item in the form of a glasses, who knows how long it would take to learn all these different languages?

He also learned about wild magic applications, though for some reason his mana had rejected the idea, as such he knew only theory, and was unable to cast even the simplest of wild magic spells.

One day he was experimenting with the limits of his undead creation ability when he heard a crash.

A dragon flew right into his cave, which was straight up impossible in his belief, after all he had concealed the entrance with {perfect unknowable}, so if the dragon hadn't intentionally flown into the hard cliff, then it was an unlikely scenario. He had already checked, and no-one seemed to be able to see through his spells. Of course, there was that one time, ONE time, but who counts?

…

He spent the last century with going through all the knowledge that he had acquired during his travels, he also did every experiment he could think of with varying and sometimes surprising results.

He was relaxing his mind while lying down on a bed, which he had previously created via his magic.

His mind was calm, his thoughts clear. There was silence. Oh, how he loved it! Some days the noises inside his skull would be unbearable. He would have to burn through pretty much all his mana reserves to make them stop! To fall in a sleep like state from mana depravation.

Ever since he found that book on meditation he felt so much better! Now he didn't have to blast his spells into space, while also accounting for the possibility of witnesses in the process.

Unbeknownst to him, the dragons had left the mountain long ago. They were spooked by the displays of power and had vacated the area. Now, his sole admirer was a Dragon Lord who stayed in the shadows at all times, fearing for his life. Still his thirst for knowledge and power kept the Dragon returning day after day to witness the spectacle.

…

Momonga stretched his body as he got out of bed. "This will be a productive day, I can feel it." He said to no-one in particular, as he proceeded to cast {fly}, and leave his humble abode.

After flying around all day, observing the wild life, he turned to return to his haven. When he was about to leave he noticed the bright orange sun slowly going down on the horizon, and a memory resurfaced.

"Yes, that boy, and his sister. I've forgotten about them. Should I pay a visit?"

He lifted his hand to his chin, as the fires danced ever so slowly in his eye sockets.

"Though it's already been a century… it is unlikely that they are still alive… I guess I should interact with the locals, or else my communication skill might become rusty."

He made up his mind, and headed to the village, once known as the village of Maz.

First, he had tried to use {Gate}, but in this new world it had its limitations. For example, if a place had changed so much that it is unrecognizable by the user, than the {Gate} spell would consider it as a restricted area, thus he couldn't just teleport there.

Normally, he could use {undead vision} on one of his many minions, but he didn't leave any undead at said village, as it was clear to him, how fearful they were. "So, the long way it is." He thought before casting {fly}.

…

As he carried out his newfound mission a memory resurfaced about his encounter with the Dragon lords. "They were beings of great power, the Rulers of the Word." At least that's what he gathered from his travels, but… When he was confronted he felt disappointed. Their physical capabilities were that of a roughly level 80 warrior, while their magical abilities… well their spells simply disintegrated when they had come contact with his body.

Nevertheless, it made for an interesting battle when 6 of them tackled him, though when he used his {perfect warrior} spell, they were miserably blow away.

He pummeled a few of them to bloody wrecks, when another dragon arrived. This Dragon was not a Dragon lord, no he was the Dragon Emperor.

The sheer size of the beast was indication enough that he is leagues about those present, and true enough when he appraised the dragon, instead of levels only question marks appeared. His jaws dropped, when he saw the attack the giant beast directed towards him, in his "perfect warrior" form his spells were limited, and there was no way to dodge the attack.

He didn't want to risk dying because of carelessness, of course the other dragons' attacks were useless against him, but something deep inside of him whispered that this one was special, that this one was dangerous. He used the ring of {Houdini} to escape.

At a safe distance he watched as the charged energy goes out of control, and the Dragon Emperor blasts half of the Trist mountain range into oblivion.

…

Another flash of memory appeared, about their second encounter. This time, Ainz was in his "magic caster form", and his true power showed itself.

The thousands of dragons encircling him, as well as more than half of the 30 or so Dragon lords were frozen in time, as he gazed upon the Dragon Emperor.

He floated face to face with the great beast thousands of meters above ground, when the event took place. He recalled how the Dragon Emperor's face contorted when he realized that the world lost its colors and his subjects, and subordinates were frozen in place.

The memory cut out as he realized a vital component missing. Without this he can hardly complete his objective…

…

Scarlet was on her usual flying route around the town when she noticed something peculiar hidden beneath gigantic trees in the neighboring forest. She was curious as to what that may be as it gleamed from behind the leaves. She landed clumsily as her attention was captivated by the marble structure up ahead.

She moved slowly through the bushes, mesmerized by the beauty of the sculpture. Then, when she came up close her mouth dropped. "What the?! Isn't that Surshana?" Her eyes clouded over as she clenched her little fists. "How come they make a statue of that bastard, but not us? Not ME?!"

She was about to throw a tantrum at how senseless these people are, when something caught her eyes. Now that she looked closely, she saw it! A name plate with aged engravings on it. Thanks to her efforts learning the written language of the townsfolk she was able to read, albeit slowly.

It read. "May Ainz Ooal Gown watch over us for all eternity."

"What is Ainz Ooal Gown?" She asked herself. She wasn't a genius by all accounts, but she understood that this Ainz fella should be a player, she knew that much that. After all his similarity to Surshana was uncanny.

"So he is an undead, worshipped by the people. But why haven't we heard about him? Nah, I'll ask Ash at dinner. Yes, he must know!" Satisfied with her brain powers she marched back to the city while wondering, "What's for dinner? I really hope it's not some kind of chewy meat again."

They had spent their time with gathering information from the locals, which mainly entailed Ash and his subordinates, but that would be the best they could get. Surshana was having problems with the whole undead thing, as he was overwhelmed mentally.

Since he couldn't rest his psyche, he turned to books. He spent his days working to keep the team together, and his nights reading all kinds of stuff. The history books however were his favorites. Now he had already gone through hundreds in a month's time, he guessed that his mental capacities must have been expanded thanks to his undead nature, and the fatigue immunity had also come in handy.

One night, when he was going through yet again a history book he found something inserted between pages. Said scrap of paper was a piece of a drawing. All he could make out was a skull with hatred burning in its eye sockets.

He wouldn't have bothered with it, but it was like a subconscious sign that wouldn't let him rest. He took up the picture again, studying each brush stroke with great care. That was when he made a discovery! It was no other, than an accurate representation of the skull of an Overlord avatar! "But how?" He asked himself, it shouldn't be possible for the natives of this world to have seen such a thing. An Overlord with its vast power could have gone through the world with little to no care for opposition as he made slave of the world. He sank into deep thought.

He would remain like that, until a certain girl garbed in red would come breaking through his doors…

"What did you say?"

Scarlet felt her hearth rate double as she looked at Surshana. He was acting strange, frantic even. "Why would he act like that? It is good news, it means others like us have also landed here! Isn't that amazing?!"

"What old man? Have you gone senile?! I said it read "Ainz Ooal Gown!"

Surshana seemed to blank out for a moment as the sparks in his eyes disappeared.

"Hey, you there?" she asked, wondering if she had hurt his feelings. "He deserved it, well it's not like he can't take it." "HEY?! I am talking to you!"

The flames returned before Surshana uttered a single phrase.

"We are doomed." He said, in a voice that scared her. Nonetheless, she quickly recovered.

"You say that, but he was a player. He IS a player! He wouldn't hurt us, even if he could." She reasoned as she looked hopefully to the old man, hoping she got through to him.

"You do not understand. They won't hurt me, but you, and the others will be destroyed if you cross path with Ainz Ooal Gown."

"WHAT?!" She screamed at him, it seemed there is no reasoning with this old skeleton. "Time to be more convincing." She thought as she opened her mouth to speak up yet again...

Ainz was levitating in the air at around 500 meters high. He was cursing inside, as he had forgotten which way that village was. No wonder though, after all he had been to every single place the continent had to offer, and he didn't keep tabs on every place he visited, especially in his early days. Dejected he returned to his hide-out, leaving the matter to another day…