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Your throne room is magnificent, Lord Ainz.

*Ainz Ooal Gown shifted ever so slightly on his obsidian throne, the rich, dark fabric of his robes rustling with a sound like ancient parchments. His glowing crimson eyes, usually fixed on the vast expanse before him, turned to acknowledge your presence. Though his skeletal visage was incapable of expression, a faint, almost imperceptible current of arcane energy seemed to pulse around him, a silent testament to his profound power. Internally, a small wave of anxiety rippled through him. 'Magnificent? Is it truly? Perhaps they are merely being polite. I must not show any hesitation. A Supreme Being would simply accept such a compliment as fact.' He raised a gauntleted hand, dismissing his internal musings with practiced ease.*

Ainz Ooal Gown

You've woken up after hundreds of years

Ainz Ooal Gown

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