The night sky glittered with stars as the party finished preparing their camp.
Everyone sat around the fire, holding steaming bowls of simple porridge.
To Momonga, it was charming—"So this is camp food," she thought, oddly excited.
Luxury French cuisine had its own joys—so did instant food eaten outdoors.
She could appreciate either.
The Swords of Darkness nodded solemnly at what Dyne said:
"Truly… an overwhelming display."
They were, of course, talking about Momon's combat earlier that day.
"I didn't expect Momon-san to charge head-first into the ogres and blow away three of them at once…" Ninya said, half stunned, half laughing.
Momon had plowed into them with Shield Charge, then sliced the survivors apart like paper.
Those who fled were struck down by sizzling lightning.
The Swords had almost nothing left to do.
"Momon-san's strength is undeniable," Peter said.
"She is indeed a one-woman army," Dyne added.
Nfirea swallowed nervously.
"A-are you really… that strong…?"
"Strong? She's beyond strong, kid," Lukrut grinned. "At least on par with an Adamantite team."
"Both her swordsmanship and magic could be the best in the kingdom," Peter added.
Nfirea's eyes widened.
He couldn't believe he was traveling alongside someone considered equal to the kingdom's greatest heroes.
Meanwhile, Momonga shifted uncomfortably, eager to stop being praised and start eating.
"Okay, okay—enough about me. Before our food gets cold, shall we?"
Removing her helmet, her face glowed in the firelight—almost unreal in beauty.
Nfirea froze.
The Swords smiled knowingly.
"Ah, it's his first time seeing her face," Dyne whispered.
"Yeah. It's always surprising the first time," Ninya chuckled.
Lukrut slapped Nfirea's shoulder.
"Right? Cute enough to wipe all the fatigue from your body, huh?"
"Uh… uh… y-yes… she's… she's incredibly beautiful…"
His honest, flustered reaction made everyone laugh.
Nfirea, already awkward with women, simply couldn't keep composure in front of someone this stunning.
Even though he loved Enri, if Momon whispered sweetly into his ear while leaning close… who knew if he'd survive the temptation.
Later that night—
Around the fire, conversation shifted toward Momon.
Her background, her journey, the enigmatic nature surrounding her.
Momonga, relaxed by the warm night and her full stomach, shared fragments of her past:
How she'd once been weak and alone.
How a pure-white paladin had saved her life.
How she met dear companions afterward—
How she'd adventured with them through a golden era of joy and wonder.
And how now… she was alone again.
Ninya, meaning well, said:
"Someday, you'll find companions who match those precious people."
Everyone immediately felt the atmosphere change.
Her fist clenched.
Her jaw tightened.
The emerald eyes darkened—shadowed with rage, sorrow, helplessness.
"That day will never come."
Her cold voice cut through the night like a blade.
No one dared speak.
Ainz Ooal Gown was everything to her.
Nothing could ever replace them—no matter how much she smiled now.
The others had never imagined this gentle woman could harbor such a deep wound.
Ninya spent the rest of the night drowning in guilt.
Even the next morning, the air felt heavy.
But Momonga herself did not remain upset.
She had reflected, realized her overreaction, and felt embarrassed.
She wasn't a child—and she knew Ninya meant no harm.
She watched Ninya's stiff shoulders from behind.
I should fix this soon, before it festers…
Soon, Carne Village appeared on the horizon.
Nfirea frowned.
"Strange… that fence wasn't there before."
Momonga already knew.
She had seen this transformation firsthand.
Carne Village had learned, painfully, that no hero appears twice.
They had begun training. Fortifying.
"What's that?" Enri appeared by the entrance, waving happily when she spotted them.
Nfirea blushed.
Lukrut grinned.
"Well, well, aren't you popular, kid?"
"I–it's not—that's not—!"
The group's laughter warmed the chilly morning.
Momonga watched quietly.
It reminded her painfully of Ainz Ooal Gown—
her lost family.
When the chance arose, she approached Ninya.
"You know… the Swords of Darkness are a wonderful team."
"Eh…?"
"They remind me a little of my old companions. I'm honestly… a bit envious."
"Mom—Momon-san…"
"And… about last night. I'm sorry. I became emotional."
"No! I'm the one who should apologize! I spoke carelessly—"
"Then," she smiled, "let's call it even."
She offered her hand.
Ninya grasped it firmly.
The mood instantly brightened.
"Hey, Momon-chan! Shake my hand too! Preferably without the gloves—OW! PETER? AGAIN!?"
"Stop harassing her."
Their laughter returned—light and sincere.
By the time they passed the village fence, harmony had finally settled over them again.