The Kingdom of Melromarc found itself in a state of desperation as the aftermath of the first wave left them with a chilling realization—they wouldn't survive the impending onslaught. In a collective effort, the neighboring kingdoms convened to explore a solution: the summoning of the four legendary Cardinal Heroes, a last-ditch attempt to salvage their world. The concept was straightforward—each nation would invoke one hero to combat the relentless waves of monsters threatening their existence.

However, dissent lurked within Melromarc's own walls. While the queen, the recognized ruler and true authority, endorsed this plan, the king, harbored a vehement disagreement. Seizing the opportunity during the queen's diplomatic meeting in a neighboring kingdom, he decided to act.

Colluding with the enigmatic pope of the Church of Three Heroes, the king initiated the summoning ritual for the four heroes. His ulterior motive was clear—to exploit their powers to fortify his own realm and exploit the vulnerabilities of neighboring kingdoms. His primary concern with this plan was the Shield Hero, a figure known for sympathizing with demihumans. The king feared the hero might align with those he despised.

Recognizing his fear and potential threat, the pope and the second princess devised a cunning plot to tarnish the Shield Hero's reputation and manipulate the king. Regrettably, their intricate machinations to rid themselves of this perceived "devil" resulted in their own downfall and the birth of a true monster.

Sword Hero

Nigun Grid Luin found himself ensnared in a week fraught with misfortune. His mission, seemingly straightforward—eliminate the strongest human in Re-Estize, Gazef Stronoff—had gone awry in the most unexpected ways. The initial plan, a calculated maneuver to lure Gazef and encircle him with the Sunlight Scriptures, crumbled when reinforcements from the kingdom arrived, turning a supposedly simple task into a chaotic skirmish.

As the clash unfolded, Nigun's scriptures found themselves battling on two fronts, ultimately succumbing to the onslaught. The situation escalated when, in the midst of trying to invoke Dominion authority, his concentration was shattered by an unforeseen interruption. It became glaringly apparent that the gods had forsaken him when the world blurred and spun, his last moments spent piecing together the grim reality that his head had been cleanly severed from his body.

Yet, in the blink of an eye and the embrace of darkness, Nigun found himself alive once more. Standing in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by unknown magic casters, he couldn't shake the sense that this unexpected resurrection heralded a new mission bestowed upon him by his deities.


As the world once again plunged into the abyss, and the specter of death loomed, Nigun Grid Luin couldn't help but reflect on the sheer wretchedness of his week.

Resurrected and now wielding a holy weapon, his initial joy was tempered by the harsh reality that he had lost the ability to wield magic. Nevertheless, he resolved to fight for humanity once more, even enduring the explanations of the false king and the intricacies of the sword.

However, horror struck as Nigun delved deeper into the land's lore. The heretics here idiotically worshipped a sword, a spear, and a bow—an absurdity that, in Nigun's eyes, unveiled the true purpose of his divine mission: to enlighten these misguided heathens. His efforts to convert party members and the evident rise in his own "levels" affirmed the success of his mission.

Everything progressed smoothly for Nigun; he successfully converted his party members, and the sword showcased its worth as he could feel his levels increasing. With how everything seemed to be falling into place, he dismissed the summons to meet the king as an inconsequential distraction, convinced that it held no significance for his grand design.

While the king rambled on about something the shield hero did, Nigun's mind focused on a different agenda—the plotting of the heretic pope's demise and calculating how much more training he needed for the task at hand. The king's words became mere background noise to Nigun's thoughts. His attention snapped back to the present when the Shield Hero arrived, escorted by guards. Disappointment lingered, but Nigun had foreseen this eventuality based on the local religion as he wasn't one to slack when gathering information about the locals. He even agreed with this shame of a trial,for according to his readings, the Shield Hero was destined to align with demihumans—a prospect that, in his view, no civilized human should tolerate.

Knowing what the outcome should be, he disregarded the ongoing trial, Nigun delved back into his plotting, absentmindedly nodding along when his title was called. Unbeknownst to him, this indifference sealed his fate. An ominous aura of death permeated the room, abruptly quelling all thoughts as darkness enveloped him. In his final moments, feeling his heart burst, Nigun's last reflection resonated with regret: "Maybe I should have embraced the simple life of a farmer, as Dad always suggested."

Spear Hero

Philip Dayton L'Eyre Montserrat entered the world as the third son of Baron Montserrate, a position he deemed utterly inconsequential for someone of his caliber. The hierarchy within his family dictated that his eldest brother automatically inherited the rights and investments essential for grooming the heir. Simultaneously, the second son received the necessary training, positioning himself as a backup should the firstborn falter. In Philip's discerning eyes, this system squandered his true potential. Convinced of his superiority among his siblings, he even identified flaws in his father's management of the estate.

Despite his keen insights, Philip opted to keep his knowledge to himself. He saw no merit in aiding a family that failed to recognize or appreciate his inherent greatness. His wisdom, shrouded in silence, became a reservoir of untapped potential, leaving him to navigate a path where his brilliance could one day find the recognition it deserved.

His greatness must have stirred jealousy even among the gods, for one day he found himself struck by lightning. It was the only plausible explanation for getting hit while making his way home from the tavern on a stormy day. Those pesky gods must have noticed how cleverly he sought shelter under a large tree. In their irritation at being outsmarted in their attempt to drench him, they deviously decided to end his life—or so they thought. His greatness, however, prevailed, allowing him to survive. Uncertain of how or why he in a castle now, he just attributed it to his own greatness. After all, why else would everyone look so delighted to see him?

True to his discerning nature, it appeared that the ruler of this realm could recognize his greatness, dubbing him the hero of the spear and lavishing upon him the luxuries befitting a man of his stature. Despite his lack of comprehension regarding the incessant chatter about waves and levels during their meeting, he dismissed it as inconsequential. The only lament was having to share the accolades with three utterly insignificant commoners.

However, enticed by the promise of gold and additional party members on the morrow, he resolved to retire to his chamber, opting to pay no heed to the trifling trio. After all, the spotlight was rightfully his, and the sooner he could distance himself from the commoners, the better.

In the morning the parties were formed, he found himself filled with amazement and joy upon discovering the breathtaking beauties that surrounded him in this newfound land. Clearly, these fair maidens must have been utterly enchanted by his unparalleled good looks and intelligence, as he ended up with a whole six of them, a number far surpassing the rest. Naturally, he presumed that those who chose other companions simply lacked a discerning taste.

However, his elation took a hit when a particularly attractive redhead, for reasons unbeknownst to him, opted to switch allegiance to the Shield Hero, seemingly out of pity. Despite this minor setback, the king persisted in demonstrating his understanding of how to treat a man of his stature. Yet, the incessant insistence that he engage in combat and wield what he deemed a commoner's weapon irked him. A noble such as himself, he believed, should not stoop to mere fighting.

Upon his dismissal from the castle, he wisely chose to disregard the pleas of his female adventurers to "level up" — whatever that meant. Instead, he wisely took his hard-earned coin to bask in the pleasures of the city. Oblivious to the fact that his female companions returned to the castle with expressions of disdain, he pondered the possibility of utilizing his noble status to win them over later, dismissing their reactions as a mere trifle.

After a day of basking in the greatness that was Philip, he deemed it appropriate to seek lodgings for the night. It was then that Myne approached him, weeping about the supposed malevolence and wickedness concealed behind the Shield Hero's façade. The sheer pleasure he felt at her realization, acknowledging that only a man of his caliber stood superior, was indeed satisfying. Myne even demonstrated some modicum of common sense by offering him armor and gold in an attempt to curry favor, a gesture he deemed expected when dealing with a rising star like himself.

In return for her efforts, he graciously accepted her plea to confront the Shield Hero on the morrow. After all, aligning with the great Philip was a privilege not to be taken lightly, and it seemed Myne understood this truth quite well.

On the fateful morning the next day, Philip was all set to put the Shield Hero in his place and impart a lesson about commoners knowing their station. However, at Myne's suggestion, he decided to let the king handle the situation. Initially, the Shield Hero feigned innocence and spewed lies about his supposed innocence. Yet, with Myne's tearful testimony and the undeniable evidence presented by the knights, Philip knew the Shield Hero's transgressions were undeniable facts.

Seizing the opportunity to remind the commoner of his place, Philip reluctantly agreed to give face, acknowledging the authority of a small-time king like the one before him. However, his true malevolence emerged when the Shield Hero unleashed a vile magic attack that claimed the lives of numerous nobles and low-level knights in an instant. Philip, unfortunately, lingered on in agony, each passing second feeling like an eternity. If only his hands worked, he might have sought a gruesome escape from the torment.

In his wretched state, surrounded by a pool of his own urine, his mind began to function for the first time. Yet, the only realization it offered was that he should be thankful for the imminent release of death and that he had not provoked the god-like being to the point where it kept him alive just to prolong his suffering. As if in response to this newfound understanding, the god finally granted him the mercy of death.

Bow Hero

Brain perused through a collection of magical items, casually sifting through his newfound loot, when a peculiar book caught his eye. Ordinarily, he wouldn't bother with such trinkets, but the recent victory over those merchant guards left him in a good mood, and he found himself with some spare time. Deciding to investigate the mysterious book, he discovered its contents to be mostly gibberish, with only four figures brandishing weapons discernible in the accompanying illustrations.

As he prepared to toss the book back into the stash, an unexpected glow enveloped its pages, blinding Brain for a brief moment. When his vision cleared, confusion set in; he was no longer in the bandit camp but within the confines of what appeared to be a castle room filled with magic casters. To his left, an inept noble awkwardly clutched a spear, and to his right, a theocracy mage wielded a sword—a bizarre sight indeed. A remark from the man to his right about an "expansion pack" only added to the perplexity, with a black knight uttering strange phrases.

Determined to make sense of the situation, Brain reached for his katana, only to gasp in disbelief as it was nowhere to be found. In its place lay a bow, leaving him utterly bewildered.

Nothing made sense anymore.


Reluctantly, Brain trailed behind the mages, their assurance that the king would unravel the mysteries compelling him to follow. Now, several days later, he was utterly convinced that none of this madness made any sense—waves, levels, holy weapons, and bizarre magical jargon—all seemingly stemming from the mere act of reading a book. The king's explanation had done little to dispel his confusion, boiling down to some vague notion that he'd grow stronger by racking up kills with the bow. He managed to draw a tenuous connection to the systems adventurers used, and thankfully, the black knight offered a brief elucidation on what he had somewhat grasped.

Both the knight and Brain had managed to unlock some sort of magical words, referred to as a "screen," and fumbled their way through navigating it. However, despite their collaborative efforts, the intricacies of this new world eluded him, and it seemed that trial and error would be his only guide in navigating through the perplexing system that governed this unfamiliar reality. Seemingly, the king had grown tired of rambling, as they were sent to their rooms and instructed to rest until they were called the next day.


Having learned the art of discerning liars and backstabbers during his time as a bandit, Brain keenly observed the parties being split. The reluctance of anyone to follow the knight raised an eyebrow, and when he himself declared his independence, opting out of a party, he anticipated some might choose the knight. To his bewilderment, his former comrades opted for the idiotic noble and the overtly zealous priest over the knight, prompting him to raise two eyebrows in disbelief. Sure, the knight gave off a menacing aura, but compared to the obvious idiot, it was strange why they didn't pick him.

The brow-raising trend continued when a girl with a smile that screamed "I'm lying" volunteered to join the knight, and the king reluctantly permitted it. Brain knew something was amiss. Those poor fools, he thought. Something about that knight left him uneasy, as if he were an ant gazing upon a mountain. Though he swiftly dismissed the thought, an unsettling feeling lingered, warning him that meddling with the knight could lead to the death of all involved.

Upon the king's dismissal into the city, Brain wasted no time. Seeking the first wagon out, he embarked on new adventures. Despite being a stranger to the land, his confidence in his past experiences overrode any fear of this uncharted territory.

As the carriage departed, Brain found himself contemplating whether those bows he now possessed could be the key to surpassing Gazef. The thought lingered in his mind as the wheels of the carriage turned, propelling him towards new possibilities and uncharted territories.

Second Princess

For Myne, the day had devolved into a nightmare surpassing her worst fears. Agony consumed her, as if her very soul and body were aflame. Every attempt to plead for help resulted in pained screeches, her body refusing to heed any command. In a cruel twist, her demise seemed drawn out, as the cries of agony from her father, the pope, the heroes, and the entire assembly had already subsided. Only her voice echoed through the now-silent halls.

Despite the excruciating pain and the encroaching darkness, Myne found herself unable to avert her gaze from the lifeless red orbs fixed upon her. Was she merely a plaything to this creature? Had everything been nothing more than a game for the Shield Devil? In her last moments, a small and perhaps twisted part of her yearned for the monster to display some semblance of excitement or any other emotion as it ended her life. Instead, it felt akin to watching a man accidentally step on an ant, shrug indifferently, and continue with his day. Myne's final thought materialized as her body plummeted, akin to a puppet whose strings had been severed.

Shield hero

As Ainz calmly surveyed the countless lifeless bodies of nobles and heroes arranged around the room, only one thought echoed through his mind: "Fuuuuck."


A few days ago, he had been savoring his final moments in Yggdrasil as the countdown signaled the imminent shutdown of the beloved game. It should have been a somber occasion, ending with the timer hitting zero, logging him off, and preparing for the mundane reality of work the next day. In his mind, it was a logical sequence of events. Instead, when the counter hit zero, the world underwent a transformation, and he found himself surrounded by mages and three seemingly inexperienced newcomers. Oddly, his familiar gear had been replaced with armor, probably some shittys author's attempt to sidestep the need for a convoluted explanation of why Ainz was suddenly armored.

Despite the unexpected turn of events, Ainz felt a surge of excitement. Was this the introduction to Yggdrasil2? Would his guildmates return, and could they enjoy this new world together? Eager for answers, he decided to comply with the mages' instructions, listening to the lore of the unfamiliar world. While the concept wasn't the most original, he couldn't help but be impressed by the improved graphics. Taking the opportunity to assist a newbie in navigating the new user interface, he ultimately decided to log off once he was assigned a room—a chance to get some much-needed rest in this unexpected turn of events.

When he found himself unable to log off, panic initially set in, but a strange calmness soon took over. The night turned into a series of experiments as he sought to understand his new reality. The eventual conclusion was both baffling and intriguing—he was no longer in a game, and his physical form now matched that of his Overlord character. A chuckle escaped him at the realization that he had been isekai'd into a world with a typical plot, yet a new sense of excitement surged within him, ready to explore this adventurous realm.

Curiously, as he tested out his magical abilities, the new system repeatedly threw errors, stating, "Magic unrecognized, shield unable to limit it." Further investigation revealed that heroes in this world were restricted to using only their weapons. However, his Overlord class seemed to intertwine magic as a part of him, as he was a creature of mana, That or the world item surpassed the shield he currently had. That night was spent delving into menus and shutting down any messages related to his magical capabilities, determined to navigate this unfamiliar landscape on his own terms.

The following day brought a new addition to his party—Myne, the only one seemingly willing to join him. He couldn't help but muse that if he were still human, he might have felt nervous or excited about her appearance. However, as an undead, such emotions eluded him. Nevertheless, he recognized her potential in exploring the city and acclimating him to his unfamiliar day had been enjoyable for him as he relished haggling for equipment, regardless of how weak it was. However, as he had no intentions of parting with his own gear for Myne, it was the best option for equipping her. She then took him around the town and even provided the opportunity to hunt the local monsters.

That night, as Myne slept in the room next door, he couldn't shake the thought of how those monsters had dampened some of his excitement. Killing them had proven virtually pointless in terms of experience points, thanks to his high level, and his seemingly impenetrable shield felt redundant against the feeble threats he had encountered thus far. Yet, he had no intention of discarding it. Instead, the collector within him pondered the prospect of acquiring the other three holy weapons, a venture he considered exploring once the ongoing waves had been dealt with. For the time being, he cast Greater Teleportation, venturing into the nearby forest to explore while Myne slept.

As Ainz reviewed his findings on the experience points gained from the monsters the previous night, a loud knocking abruptly brought him back to reality. From that point on, confusion consumed him, intensifying with each passing moment. He was summoned to meet the king, only to find himself accused of rape by the monarch and a tearful Myne upon his arrival. Nothing seemed to make sense, and Ainz's emotional suppressor worked tirelessly to quell the mental confusion and erratic logic the king continued to present. When finally given the chance to speak and explain that no such incident had occurred, he was abruptly cut off by the king, who persisted in tarnishing his name without cause.

At this juncture, Ainz found himself not just angered by the accusations against him (Momonga), but infuriated by the fact that they tarnished the name he held above all else—Ainz Ooal Gown. His rage intensified with each new insult, reaching its zenith when the idiotic spear hero began to ramble about Ainz Ooal Gown being a simple commoner who didn't know any better... "Oh, wait," Ainz thought, his anger momentarily subsiding as he processed the sight of everyone now dead. His emotional suppressor worked tirelessly to calm him, but it faced an uphill battle as his brain grappled with the grim reality of the lifeless bodies around him. In that moment, Ainz had realized that perhaps naming himself Ainz had not been the best idea. That and thatapparently some skill could activate based on his this case Despair Aura V.

"I should probably turn that off"

Taking a quick look around to see no one, or no one alive. His eyes wandered at the glowing and shiny weapons around him.

"Hmm, I wonder if anybody will notice if I take the spear and sword."

Thus begins the tale of the Demon of the Shield, a figure feared by those in power throughout Melromarc and revered as a god of justice by the common folk.

Hope that at least one person enjoyed this olf story I wrote. Originally made for a amino challenge in 2021, like my khazit fic I got.

Finally decided to edit it and have chat gpt smooth out my grammar.