Overlord of biblical proportions: Return of the Biblical God (11)

For Momonga the thought that he would become a teacher seemed like the strangest possible occupation. What could he even teach when he hadn’t even finished school himself?! Worse, he barely understood the school he’d found himself enrolled in against his better judgment, making him a teacher was the dumbest idea imaginable.

A moment later, his emotion suppression emptied Momonga’s mind of panic, allowing him to reach a logical conclusion of why Albedo had suggested a thing.

To Nazarick’s inhabitants, Momonga was a beacon of intellect, capable of any miracle, the genius with a million plans, where every action, planetary alignment, or gust of wind was meticulously accounted for in his schemes. Becoming a teacher? For him, it should be so trivial that doubting his ability bordered on blasphemy!

The problem was… he truly couldn’t do it. Sure, he could parrot Tabula’s ramblings about religions or Punitto Moe’s gaming tips, but that’s where his ‘expertise’ ended. Even then, stretching his bare bone ‘expertise’ on those topics might give him two hours of material at best.

Math? Chemistry? Physics? Momonga was certain his students knew more about these subjects than he did!

But could he just… cancel the lessons?

Nazarick’s denizens might remain loyal and unbothered, but doing so would sabotage the ‘grand plan’ Albedo and Demiurge had ‘uncovered’. After all, why else would they propose this if he was, supposedly, hadn’t secretly intended it? 

Backing out now would only expose his incompetence or, worse, disrupt their schemes. He couldn’t do that to his loyal subordinates, not after they had put so much work into it. He didn’t want to become a bad boss, after all… Sleeping with his subordinates aside.

With a sigh, Momonga bowed his head mentally, consigning himself to hours of hell, and agreed with Albedo. 

“Yes, Albedo. You’ve deduced my plan perfectly.”

A torrent of praises followed, vows of loyalty, promises to serve, and pleas for rewards, but Momonga tuned them out. Instead, he flung himself into strategizing, unable to drown in his despair thanks to his emotion suppression.

Why did he need to be a teacher?

“Albedo,” He finally interrupted her unending, yet impressively non-repetitive, words of adoration, 

“… What, exactly, am I to teach? What knowledge do these humans require?” That wasn’t too much to ask, right? Surely, making sure that his ‘great’ intellect could parse the middling ones’ of the mere humans would make sense, right?

Thankfully for his panicked and weary mind, rather than looking at him confused, Albedo shifted seamlessly from fawning to professionalism instead.

“Lord Momonga, priority one is enlightening them about this world’s true state. Next, is to assess their magical talents and innate abilities. Finally, determine if they’re worthy of further training. Have I spoken your plans correctly, Your Majesty?”

Momonga resisted the urge to roll his eyes, She clearly knew more about this than he did. Still, he slipped back into his role as the ‘omniscient overlord’ with somewhat practiced ease.

“Indeed, Albedo. You are… correct.”

At least enlightening the students about the true state of the world, whatever that means, he would just have to make stuff up, and testing magical abilities felt more familiar to Momonga than chemistry or physics. Momonga could at least say a few things on the topic of magic, and very much used to making up things for the prior, but even so, his act as a teacher would have been rather mediocre. 

After all, he himself still knew far too little about the world around him. He had read, well, skimmed, Demiurge's reports, of course, but had quickly lost track of the countless gods and monsters mentioned. As for teaching magic… he couldn’t train anyone in any such thing. 

All his knowledge about magic had been inherited from Yggdrasil, where it existed as various abilities hard-coded into the game, and even in this world, his magic remained instinctive. In other words, he needed an assistant teacher, one who he could dump all the work to. 

But who could fill that role? A mage familiar with teaching and the supernatural factions of this world…? Wait, didn’t that one guy…?

A brilliant idea struck him as he thought about the matter, and he smiled widely, a sight Albedo couldn’t see as his skeletal face didn’t allow for facial expressions.

"Albedo? You still have contacts with the Director of Kuoh, don’t you?"

***

Johan sat in his small private home doing what he did ever since he had found himself changing patrons, sorting reports and documents into stacks, separating what was now useless in his current circumstances from what might still prove useful.

A lot of time had passed since Zeoticus Gremory’s death and the Devils’ departure from Kuoh. As Johan himself had been informed, Zeoticus’ funeral had already taken place… to which Johan himself had not been invited.

Frankly, that stung a bit. 

Johan had served as Zeoticus’ contracted mage for nearly six years, he had visited the Gremory household many times, spoken with the heir Rias many times acting as both the Zeoticus’ contracted mage, and as the Director of Kuoh Academy. Through Zeoticus, he had come to the social circle of countless acquaintances, both Devils and humans alike. 

Yet in the end, he hadn’t even been invited to say goodbye to a genuinely decent person, or well, Devil, whom Johan had certainly never considered a stranger. Sure, their relationship had mostly been professional, bound by contracts and work, but if the heads of other Devil families, those who Zeoticus met maybe once a year at some assembly had been invited to the funeral, why not Johan?

On the other hand, he had betrayed the entire Devil species and had most likely doomed them. So he wasn’t planning to complain too loudly about their lack of hospitality, and, to be honest, he didn’t particularly want to. What if the Devils sensed the Biblical God’s mark on him?

The word awkward would be putting it very lightly — Biblically apocalyptic would have been the more appropriate word to use.

Johan had learned about Satoru, that is, Momonga, that is, the Biblical God, not long ago, and yet, he already felt much closer to his new patron. After reassessing his life priorities and the available information, his core stance hadn’t changed much… Except for feeling relieved that he seemed to have chosen the right new patron.

Thinking about his new patron, Johan found himself somewhat lost, there was surprisingly little concrete information about the Biblical God. Johan had received an excellent education as a human mage, but there was only so much one could say about someone purported to be omnipotent, omniscient, and all-merciful. 

Gods like Odin, Zeus, or Ra for instance, were powerful, but none claimed omnipotence, their abilities could be measured, described, and cataloged. The Biblical God, however, never revealed the limits of His power to anyone, and since fully believing the accounts of Devils or even the Fallen about Him would have been very foolish, most of Johan’s knowledge amounted to nothing more than speculation.

And even with that, it doesn’t amount to much.

The God in the Heaven was unbelievably strong, unbelievably intelligent, a master of artifact creation, wielded immense holy energy, and, judging by His refusal to leave Heaven even during the heights of the fighting in the Great War — unbelievably passive.

And so, the revelation that he had been, in fact, dead all this time did not overturn Johan’s worldview – after all, for him, it was merely incidental knowledge acquired during his studies, not some earth-shattering revelation that undermined his entire existence. However, it did mean that his conjecture about God’s passivity was entirely wrong. 

Everything else? It remained as blurry as ever. Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true, there are things that Johan knows for sure.

Using pure logic and prior knowledge, such as the fact that the strength of Gods depended on the number of their followers’ [Faith], one could easily conclude that the Biblical God was among, if not the strongest, deity of all. As for his master of artifact-crafting, the existence of [Sacred Gears], especially the [Longinuses], made that fact self-evident.

When Satoru showed off blueprints detailing unknown, but undeniably advanced technology, leaps and bounds over what is available in the modern world, even surpassing bleeding-edge technologies. Johan could easily conclude that the Biblical God was in his own league at Artifact Crafting. 

But aside from those two things? Johan knew little about the Biblical God.

What were His plans? What role was Johan destined to play? And, ultimately, what would happen with the devils? There were no answers.

After passing along all known intel about the devils to Momonga’s followers, redistributing the stranded students to other schools, while casually ‘losing’ Satoru’s name amid bureaucratic red tape, and officially taking the Genshiro family under his wing, Johan found himself metaphorically ‘shelved’ for the future. He spent his days leisurely, forgotten by the world’s powers-that-be, the devils never reached out, likely dismissing him as irrelevant. After all, without Zeoticus’ patronage, he was now a nobody in the Devil circles, and also unnecessary, now that Rias and Sona, along with their [Peerages], had clearly left the human world for good. 

Even their Devil observers and guardians had been withdrawn, a vacuum that Satoru and his subordinates swiftly exploited.

Johan’s peace, however, didn’t last long. 

After liaising with the Genshirous and leaving them a generous sum of money for their living expenses, millions of yen meant little to him anyway, he was abruptly summoned to meet the head of all of Kyoto's West Youkai faction.

The meeting wasn’t particularly nerve-wracking or monumental, but it made one thing clear. His break was over, Johan now had to earn his keep, and possibly repay his life debt.

After all, he could now understand how those Saints in the Bible felt, when God himself spoke to them.

“I want you to assist me with training.”

Satoru’s, God’s, voice spoke to him in his mind, making him freeze Johan mid-shuffle of his paperwork. Not because telepathy was some rare gift, the spell predating even modern spellcraft entirely, but because of the words themselves.

“Ahem—hck!” Johan choked on his spit, coughing before sputtering. 

“Excuse me?!”

“You are excused… As I was saying, I am going to be educating humans, to teach them the world’s true state, test their magical aptitude, and train them. You will aid me in this.” The Lord’s tone left no room for negotiation, and before Johan could even try, the Lord continued. 

“During my… absence, this world changed so drastically that I require your expertise. I trust this presents no issue?”

Johan swallowed hard, did he even have a choice in the matter? 

“Of course not, Lord Momonga. None whatsoever!”

After all, Johan knew better than most, when someone of Lord Momonga’s caliber spoke in that tone, you didn’t have ‘problems’. And if you did, they’d better vanish before you dared mention them.

Though, one issue did need addressing. 

“Lord Momonga… Who exactly will comprise this training group?”

After these words, an unexpected silence fell, so piercing that Johan felt as though he could hear the dust settling on the floor, before Lord Momonga finally replied.

“I believe you are perfectly capable of determining who is needed for this training yourself, are you not?”

These words told Johan everything he needed to hear; it was time to test whether Johan was worthy of continuing their collaboration and, likely, to evaluate the results of his prior work. 

It was time to do, or die… But at least he was confident with his chances.

He was used to administrative work, and was very willing to do the work. Even when it was a ‘simple’ looking task, curating the students that would be suitable to receive the Lord’s guidance, Johan would be putting his all for the task. 

The threat hanging over him should he fail, that the patronage of the Biblical God, would have ended then and there… It was fair. 

If he was too lazy or foolish to follow direct orders and relied on no one checking his work for his continued patronage, he would have been useless to the Biblical God and his plans… Whatever they were. 

Fortunately for Johan, he had keenly sensed the shift in power after the Sirzechs’ rampage, he had felt it even when Kokabiel attacked the Gremory, and so was already mentally prepared to switch gears. He was no longer under Zeoticus, who rarely verified his work, but instead under a new management that would certainly not overlook his mistakes.

“Understood, Lord Momonga, Your will be done,” Zeoticus answered immediately. “When would you like to begin their training?”

“Perhaps…” Lord Momonga paused briefly, exhaling in a tone so resigned it echoed even in Johan’s mind, though he paid it no heed. 

“The sooner, the better, no? Let us begin today.”

“Of course, Lord Momonga. I assume the church would be the most suitable location?” Johan’s question was half affirmation, and half just wanting to be proactive, as he received the expected response. Instinctively, he mentally proclaimed the glory of Lord Momonga, though perhaps he might as well have been speaking out loud, for who knew the reach of his [Omniscience]. 

“Everything will be prepared by six this evening!”

A moment later, the subtle tug in Johan’s mind vanished, signaling the end of the conversation. 

Slumping into his chair, he let out a shaky breath, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.

Interacting with such formidable figures was far more taxing than he’d hoped, even interacting with Yasaka paled in comparison. Not that he could seriously oppose her, but at least facing her worst wrath wouldn’t mean instant death. 

The Gods, however, especially the Biblical God? An entirely different matter.

Luckily, Johan had prepared for this scenario, sadly, it meant spending significant time near Lord Momonga, but he was ready.

Pushing aside the paperwork on his desk, he opened a desk drawer and retrieved a stack of files – one for past and likely future students of Kuoh Academy. A preparation that he did for the Scions of Gremory and Sitri, and one that now would be used for the Lord.

With Rias and Sona enrolled there, all the students underwent rigorous vetting. None were to be politically sensitive, like having members from other Factions, while keeping the number of paranormally gifted individuals high, especially those with [Sacred Gears]. Anything to bolster their [Peerages]. Thus, Johan had no trouble identifying candidates who might intrigue Lord Momonga.

Truly, how far does His sight extend? Never could Johan imagine that the work that he did for the sisters of the two Satans, would now be used to advance the work of the Biblical God.

Genjiro Saji, for instance, his new ‘adopted son’, Lord Momonga had already taken an interest in him, which was natural. In Johan’s eyes, the boy, who had fallen into dire circumstances, seemed a bit foolish at first, but after his desperate wish was fulfilled, he proved fiercely loyal.

Katase Higa and Murayama Tanabe, exceptional kendo athletes and even many times champions of Kendo competitions. While they weren’t the most magically gifted, Murayama possessed a sharp, adaptable mind, while Katase had already caught Lord Momonga’s personal attention… Very personal attention.

Johan briefly imagined what theologians of the past would say if they learned that the Biblical God was lovingly ‘involved’ with a human, and shuddered, deciding to move on to other matters.

The Perverted Trio, a nickname that even an administrator like Johan was forced to learn, they're so infamous among the female students… After some deliberation, Johan chose not to recruit in full. From the intel he’d gathered, Issei Hyoudou interested Lord Momonga, though Johan himself couldn’t fathom why. Though, given that the Lord had descended in the guise of the elder brother to the most infamous troublemaker in Kuoh Academy, it would be reason enough to add the boy in the roster. 

Matsuda and Motohama however, would be superfluous. The two had never properly interacted with Lord Momonga in the past, aside from the confrontation they had. Of course, Johan understood that if Momonga held even a sliver of genuine malice toward them, they’d have been erased from existence entirely. Instead, they’d escaped with mere bruises and had already nearly forgotten the incident amid the chaos of recent events, slowly reintegrating into society. 

In short, their encounter with Lord Momonga could be deemed ‘fortunate’, but inviting them for further training seemed pointless, though Johan pitied them, for their wasted potential if nothing else. Matsuda had impressive physical prowess, and Motohama had decent magical potential and intellect — but neither stood out as special.

Aika Kiryuu… Now she was an interesting case. She had once served as the only functional bridge between the now disbanded Perverted Trio and normal society. Beyond her personality or academic merits, her magical talent was exceptional. Well, exceptional for a human, that is. Reaching even Johan’s talent in the magical world would be a steep climb, but she still surpassed ordinary humans by an order of magnitude.

The list of students could’ve gone on, but many students at Kuoh were heirs to families either allied with Devils or in their servitude. Johan would’ve loved to recruit someone like Kiyome Abe, heiress to a family overseeing territories populated by magical beasts that could be turned to familiars, a resource highly sought after by Devils. But after the attack on the Gremory territory, she’d vanished alongside a dozen others and the [Peerages] of two demonic heiresses.

Of course, Kuoh still had plenty of ‘decent’ candidates who stood out compared to the average person. Johan’s screening process had been meticulous back when he believed serving Zeoticus was a true test of his skills as a mage and organizer. But none shone brightly enough for Johan to note their name down for the training. 

He’d table them for now and present such options if needed.

With these matters somewhat settled, Johan set his work aside and reached for his phone. Normally, a principal calling students or their families directly would raise eyebrows…

But reality had long since warped under Lord Momonga’s whims, and this was no exception.

***

After escaping the presence of the Demiurge, and the one who called Himself as God, Irina returned to her cell. She sensed the arrival and departure of the West Kyoto’s leader, but as befitting an agent thrust into a mission far beyond her level of preparation, she gave no indication of having noticed.

Irina had been raised in an environment of discipline, love, labor, and faith, dedicating her prayers earnestly to the One God and so, learning that He had perished long ago in the war against Lucifer upended her entire worldview. The only difference between her and Xenovia was that Irina had discovered this truth ten years prior — entirely by accident.

Unlike Xenovia, Irina came from a lineage of exorcists and inherited a talent for wielding [Sacred Swords]. Her family was high-ranking within the Church, having interacted not only with the ecclesiastical elites but also the angelic hierarchies, even those with multiple wings, though they haven’t yet had the honor of meeting a Seraph. 

Thus, her parents were aware of God’s demise, and a single childhood mishap led Irina to sneak into her father’s unlocked study, where she uncovered documents that etched this truth into her soul. 

All at the tender age of seven.

However, as Irina was but a young girl at the time, the revelation of the Biblical God’s death struck her, much like learning that Santa Claus didn’t deliver gifts every Christmas. She cried, mourned briefly, then moved on. 

It neither shattered her faith nor altered her life’s trajectory. 

Growing up in an exorcist family, she had absorbed Church doctrine, participated in its rituals, and came to view God not merely as a mortal entity slain by Lucifer, but as an omnipotent, benevolent force transcending life and death.

Thus, when someone claimed to be the Biblical God, Irina reacted without the fervent religious awe that instantly consumed Xenovia. If the Lord were truly omnipotent and all-good, why would He need to descend to Earth again? Even if His mortal form, killed by Lucifer, could somehow resurrect, a concept Irina easily accepted, as it is akin to the rebirths of other deities, why here and now? 

Not in Heaven, amid His loyal angels and the [Divine System], His greatest creation? Why surrounded by excommunicated heretics, Fallen, and demons?

Even if all this had a rational explanation, something Irina wholly doubted but allowed as a theoretical possibility, the memory of her first encounter with Him seared itself into her mind as a moment of pure, unadulterated despair.

Back then, the overwhelming Fear felt like it had corroded her innards, hollowed her skull of thought, slithered along every taut nerve, and poured liquid nitrogen through her veins. A Fear that devoured her entire being.

Whoever he is that claimed to be the Biblical God, even if he indeed was God, miraculously resurrected after centuries under impossible circumstances, with answers to every inconsistency Irina observed — she saw none of the all-benevolent essence she had associated with God.

Whether the thing was just a deceiver, impostor, or a twisted reincarnation, he was not the God Irina believed in. Not the God she had known.

Perhaps, only perhaps, if the Angels acknowledged this Lord Momonga as His resurrection on Earth, Irina Shidou might have resigned herself to and sworn loyalty under His banner with the same devotion she had once served Him. The God in the Old Testament was one that could be vengeful too, after all.

Yet Irina’s faith whispered that the all-merciful, all-forgiving God she worshiped was not standing before her now.

Of course, Irina understood that the Benevolent God possessed aspects beyond mercy. She had studied the Scriptures and knew even His Son, upon descending to Earth, had declared that he was not bringing peace, but a sword. Irina and her family had served as exorcists for generations, enacting God’s will not through sermons and spreading goodwill but through combat. 

After all, the Lord Himself, His body, His earthly incarnation, had once clashed with Lucifer.

Yet this terror she felt was not born from the disparity of strength, nor was it a primal instinct to shield herself from harm. No, Irina had trained relentlessly, fought real battles against Stray Devils and fallen angels. Even when there was a Veteran Exorcist on site to make sure that no accident happens, usually Lady Griselda, the fear she felt in such moments was familiar, even manageable. 

Like all humans, she was not immune to fear, but she had always confronted and overcome it.

The dread emanating from Lord Momonga, however, was different. Unnatural. Not some spell or curse warping her mind, those were artificial, and Irina had learned to neutralize or at least detect them. This Fear bypassed reason entirely, speaking directly to her soul. 

It whispered that Death itself stood before her, not to claim her in her final moment, but to erase her entirely body and soul, fueled by pure, undiluted hatred.

Irina could not reconcile this feeling with her belief in a Benevolent God – how could He permit such a presence to torment His faithful? Has the Lord grown to despise her so utterly?

Thus, she resolved to report this revelation immediately to the Church. Her initial mission of catching Valper Galilei, and to scout out the Devils plaguing the city, paled in comparison. Thankfully, the demon in the church, the Demiurge, did not hinder her movements and actions. 

Perhaps his fanaticism had blinded him, or he merely dismissed her as beneath his notice, but Irina would take advantage of that… She also needs to communicate that Xenovia might need to be excommunicated.

Xenovia was lost, compromised, and Irina’s heart bled as they parted, knowing this might be their final meeting. But she could not afford to perish before delivering her warning. 

And so feigning a temporary departure, ‘just to relay a message’, she fled.

Ignoring the surrounding city, she reached the outskirts to establish contact before she would vanish from Kuoh entirely. Guilt gnawed at her for stealing a taxi, but she would repent later. Many lives, perhaps even the world, hung in the balance. 

She swapped vehicles repeatedly, aiming for the nearest airport. From there, her path led to South Korea, then China, only then would she transmit her findings from Kuoh and seek absolution, for her sins, for abandoning Xenovia to Devils and blasphemers.

Irina Shidou considered Xenovia a friend, a close one even. They got along well, had fought together numerous times before, and their constant debates on theology, as was typical among different Christian denominations, often gave way to support, conversation, and even discussions about boys. Girls their age sometimes just needed to talk about such things, Exorcists or not.

But if Irina bore the burden of information critical for the Church’s and the entire world’s continued existence, she was prepared to sacrifice not only her friend but also her feelings toward her. The priority was to report everything that had happened, before the demons and Lord Momonga could catch up to her.

However, what Irina didn’t know, was that she was worrying needlessly about being pursued. Anything she did would have been fruitless after all – even if she had found herself in a completely different world, the Hanzo, concealed within her shadow, would not have shifted from his post.

After all, this was precisely what Lord Demiurge had meant when he asserted that even Judas still needed to fulfill his role.