A Theory on Godhood: An Overlord Story

Chapter 23: Grandfather's Respite

Northern Forest of Tob, six hours before the Zuranon Disaster.

Naaru watched as both Blue Planet of Elsewhere and the abomination fell to their knees, not long after the magic caster had placed both hands upon the beast's temples.

The beast's eyes flared with smoldering flames when sparks from the half-goat being's appendages, strange magic unlike anything the dryad patriarch had seen. The effect was instantaneous on both sides.

The ones who named themselves Ankoro Mocchi Mochi and Coup De Grace flared out with the smaller, strangely dressed woman with red hair. Someone named Lupusregina, Naaru believed.

When he had first seen the new arrivals, the first thing he had noticed was how...tall they were, towering over even the most vertically gifted of man and animal that resided within the Forest of Tob.

Skin impervious to all damage, clothing, while rugged or nonexistent for the werewolf and winged feline, that spoke of material wealth in the form of physical goods, rather than coin. A servant fully willing and able to lay her life down for her masters.

Indeed, were it not for the scent of decay and rot that permeated from all of them as if they spent most of their time living in a tomb, Naaru would say that they were figures of legend. Great prowess and strength unmatched by even dragon lords.

The dryad patriarch knew that out of all of them, easily the most impressive in his mind was Blue Planet himself. Kind and soft-spoken. Slow to anger but when done, righteously so. Afterall, what other being would be worthy enough to lead such other powerful creatures as those of Ainz Ooal Gown?

Having been led through the forest, standing beside the ones who Lord Grover himself had admired and learned from, was a rare honor truly. His armor and weapon was a testament to that, the kindness of those who hailed from another plane of existence.

When Naaru reflected upon his behavior the last couple of days, how he had treated them with wariness and distrust, he knew that he had overstepped his bounds.

What would my teacher say, if he saw how I had treated my saviors? The sadness and disappointment would be immeasurable. I'm sorry, Lord Grover Sprigganson.

Such contemplation stirred an uneasiness in him, for they indirectly led to the memories of his time fighting the demon tree. He knew never in a thousand seasons that he would be able to take it on and live.

No, such a feat could only be accomplished with the aid of others. Those who possessed great potential such as himself. Even still, fighting the monstrosity that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere had taken all of Naaru's strength and willpower.

When the elder dryad had first faced it down, the aura of pure malevolence and raw power had been enough that he would have cowed like a pup before the pack leader.

Even to this day, Naaru recalled how his limbs and spirit had ached, his vital essences slowly drained away by the might and magic of the demon tree. One who's fortitude had known no other equal, save for one.

That alone spawned dark theories in the back of the patriarch's head, when he made the comparison. It seemed far too great a coincidence that Grover had disappeared while Zy'tl Q'ae had sprung up around the same time.

But to think that the treant's mental affliction had grown that dire? To reduce him to nothing more than a starving animal, preying on everything and anything in sight?

It terrified Naaru more than he would ever admit. At times, when he rested in his home tree late at night, those beliefs would keep him up, gnawing at his psyche until he eventually fell into restless dreams.