Was this even fair? Could anyone be more cunning than this?
If others knew about such an outrageous tactic, they'd have countless things to say—and not one of them polite. Especially those adventurers risking life and limb in dangerous ruins, those who narrowly escaped death, or those who didn't escape at all. They'd surely be cursing their luck, tears of frustration running down their faces.
But Ging Freecss was a qualified adventurer. And qualification meant keeping a level head—prioritizing safety for both himself and his team, never letting reckless curiosity jeopardize the mission. Passion was one thing, but blind enthusiasm? That was just irresponsibility, no different from outright folly.
So when it came to exploring this ruin, Ging wasn't about to take unnecessary risks. Not when he had an alternative—a plan to minimize the danger to himself and others. That plan, however, came with a cost.
The price? A pair of eyes.
But Ging wasn't worried. His companion, Emuksu, could heal him afterward. Emuksu wasn't just any Nen user—he was one of the brilliant minds behind Greed Island, the creator of many of the game's most iconic designated cards. His abilities were unparalleled, and his Nen techniques bordered on miraculous.
Take the card Archangel's Breath, for example. It could heal even the gravest injuries, like Gon's severed arm. Compared to that, restoring a pair of eyes was child's play.
With that reassurance, Ging had no qualms about letting his Puppet avatar handle the exploration in his stead, while he stood watch over Ronnel, who was in a state of deep meditation, his consciousness temporarily severed from his body.
Despite his blindness, Ging's presence was more than enough to ensure their safety. He wasn't one to be underestimated. And Ronnel trusted him enough to focus entirely on his task.
Meanwhile, Ging saw another silver lining: crafting a puppet in his own likeness had been a rewarding challenge. It brought him closer to perfecting the process—paving the way for stronger, more sophisticated creations in the future.
"Golden puppets," he mused to himself. "If I can make more like this, they'll be invaluable for future expeditions… even to the Dark Continent."
The thought of venturing into the Dark Continent with a puppet army, and maybe even Emuksu at his side, made Ging's eyes—well, eye sockets—light up.
In the Space of Bones, the surrogate bodies of Ronnel and Ging's puppet stood side by side, seemingly unbothered by their grim surroundings. Their casual demeanor, however, didn't sit well with the figure on the high platform, who was watching them closely.
Yet the figure's mood improved as thoughts of escape took over. Soon, it would leave this wretched place behind. No point in getting worked up over these two.
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the cavernous space, shattering the silence.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Ronnel and Ging immediately tensed, their relaxed facade giving way to alertness.
"That sound… it's different from before," Ging muttered under his breath. "Some kind of signal?"
Both men were on edge, their honed senses picking up subtle shifts in the environment. In a dangerous place like this, even the smallest detail could mean life or death.
And then—
SWISH!
A blinding light exploded across the space, forcing them to shield their eyes.
"Damn it, a flash bomb?!" Ronnel cursed, blinking rapidly as the light faded just as suddenly as it had appeared.
When they opened their eyes again, the sight before them made their blood run cold.
"Dead Bone Beasts?!" Ging gasped.
The mountains of bones surrounding them were now teeming with monstrous creatures, their skeletal forms illuminated by eerie blue light emanating from their eye sockets. Dozens of them stood on every peak, their cold, deadly auras filling the air.
Ronnel's gaze sharpened as he took in the scene. "No wonder we didn't encounter many on the way here," he said grimly. "They were all gathered here, waiting for us."
Ging scratched his head, his usual nonchalance returning despite the situation. "Yeah, lucky us. It's not like I was expecting a warm welcome, but this is just excessive."
Even he, with all his strength, would struggle to take on so many of these beasts at once. And that wasn't even factoring in the real threat—the figure on the high platform, clearly the leader of this skeletal army.
"If I had to fight them all… yeah, I'd lose these eyes for sure. Good thing I didn't come in person," Ging quipped, his tone light but his expression serious.
Meanwhile, Ronnel's focus was fixed entirely on the high platform.
Against the backdrop of the glowing Dead Bone Beasts, the figure seated on the throne finally rose, its tall, silver-white form cloaked in a luxurious black robe. The contrast of bone and fabric gave it an air of both majesty and menace.
Ronnel's breath hitched. "Ainz Ooal Gown?!"
The name slipped out before he could stop himself.
The figure tilted its head, as though amused. Then, in a deep, resonant voice, it replied:
"Ainz Ooal Gown? What nonsense is that? My name… is Overlord."
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