Overlord - Prologue

In particular, there were two things which deserved particular attention:

The name of the guild and the guildmaster.

The clan had not been upgraded to a guild because of these two reasons.

The room had settled down, and Ulbert could be heard to say, “Then, he should have just said so”. Touch Me saw that this was the time and raised his voice.

“…Are there any objections to disbanding this clan and re-founding us as a guild?”

There were none. That was only to be expected — after all, everybody was looking forward to becoming a guild. However, Momonga felt a little lonely.

This was because the reason he had been so absorbed in this game — the reason why he had worked so hard and made so many precious memories — the clan name, was going to vanish. On the other hand, he had never thought that the name would no longer fit the present circumstances. He had not even thought that people might not be happy with it.

The clan’s name was Nine’s Own Goal.

It had been founded when hunting heteromorphic beings was all the rage. It was because there were some strong job classes which needed players to PK a certain number of heteromorphic beings for entry. Therefore, players of heteromorphic characters hid out in the three worlds which were advantageous to them — Niflheim, Helheim and Muspelheim — and refused to go to other worlds. After all, a world was big enough to play in even if they did not leave it.

However, Touch Me and the founding members — including Momonga — were different. They were unwilling to restrict their ambitions, and bravely adventured to other worlds. How many people had managed to get into a strong class because of PKing Momonga and the others? That was their self-deprecating name for a group of suicidal fools who only served to make their enemies stronger.

Now their numbers had grown, and there were more members than could be counted on both hands. Also, one of the founding members was no longer around. He left the clan and the game.

That being the case, it might only be natural to change the name.

Although Momonga came to that conclusion himself, his heart ached as he thought of his absent friend, the one who had played with him from the beginning, who was no longer with him.

As Momonga sank into rumination, the conversation continued around him. After that, Touch Me opened his words with a “Finally”.

“This time round, I’ll beg off on the position of clan — no, guildmaster. I feel bad about saying this sort of thing even before being picked, but I hope everyone will take that into consideration.”

The clan members looked at each other in silence. Was he serious? What did he mean by that? And who would be Touch Me’s successor? Their eyes conveyed the questions in their hearts.

“Then, who will be the next leader — the next guildmaster? Does anybody want the role, or does anybody want to recommend someone for that role?”

Momonga kind of agreed with whoever had asked that question. Nobody could replace such an outstanding man. He felt sorry for whoever the next man was.

Touch Me looked around at everyone, and what he said next blew Momonga away.

“Personally, I would like to recommend Momonga-san.”

“Guehhh!”

Momonga could not help but make a strange noise.

He could not understand why his name was being brought up at this time.

Looking around for someone to help him, he instead found a chorus of voices saying things like “Not bad” and “We can leave it to Momonga-san.”

Though it should have been impossible, he did not hear a single voice of dissent. It made him wonder if there was a conspiracy going on.

“Are you guys serious?! Do you really think I can do it?!”

In response to Momonga’s exclamation, Touch Me performed a magnificent feint, one worthy of the strongest warrior.

“Well, I sprung this on you so suddenly and I didn’t get Momonga-san’s approval, so is there anyone else you want to recommend? Does anyone want to volunteer?”

Nobody answered Touch Me’s questions.

No good.

Although his body could not sweat, he could feel that sweat on his back all the same. This was a common situation in company meetings. If he did nothing, he would be chosen.

As he looked at Touch Me — the strongest warrior who had used a feint to throw him off his balance and deal him a fatal blow — Momonga decided to solidify his defense.

“Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, come on, give me a break. Really, give me a break, Touch-san. This is all too sudden; won’t everyone be put off by it? You can’t decide these things so quickly. Give me a little more time.”

The person who answered Momonga’s protest was not Touch Me, but Ulbert.

“I don’t think so. Personally, I feel Momonga-san is an excellent candidate. He logs in regularly, is meticulous, and he doesn’t have any strange habits. Also, he’s a neutral party who isn’t biased towards anyone.”

Et tu Brute—!