... Saitama is teleported to the New World, but hundreds of thousands of miles away from Nazarick.

And this time, maybe killing any monster would not be a good idea.

Beginning again, it will spread its name throughout the continent. Alone, naked and with nothing but his powers. But what does it matter? He has hair again, and again he is younger.

This story is established years before the canon of Overlord.

Foreword. This is the birth of a Hero.

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At that time, no one would expect that the prelude to a great adventure of biblical proportions and legendary feats, would be due to a misunderstanding.

Before beginning said prelude, a long time ago, in a universe quite distant from this, once lived a man.

"A million miles away, farther than the stars could reach, farther than any light can reach, traversing countless galaxies at speeds that overflow the rational, among the millions of sparkling particles of comets, drilling planets and dividing the cosmos with abandonment, we arrive, after traveling millions of light years, to the planet where the most powerful being of the Universe and possibly of the Multiverse inhabits, that everyone in the future will tremble at hearing his name, among them will vary if their shudders they are of respect or fear, but his achievements will be disseminated to the continual limits of the universe, every galaxy, every planet and every creature that is alive will know of him, and the countless ranks of warriors and common citizens will kneel if very well he walks over a space there, even many will lick perpetually without shame that very same space where his boots made contact with the earth.

He whose name should not be pronounced by anyone who has a bad heart, or endorse crime in all its senses. Those, who all aspired to become the future, no matter when or how much they should sacrifice, yearned to possess the same strength. However, very few, selected by the unknown force that hovers perennially in all the confines of existence will let them reach or surpass his magnificence.

Many challenge, against the cheers of the community in general, that man, and many have been reborn as humble beings, enlightened by the vast strength that a single finger of his can channel, and devoted themselves to teaching the masses his customs and wise words , but he, as a sign of infinite humility, rejected the idea and encouraged his "disciples" to train, to become strong, both intellectually and physically.

Before, everyone, with the exception of those who were with him in his supposed beginnings, when he had already started long ago, mocked and refuted his actions, but he was always passionate about heroism, and he did not give in to the discriminatory exclamations of ignorant people , and continued his admirable duty until now.

This simply raised more the admiration of his close ones, dazzled the passion that many women - and even several men - wished with him, and sowed deeply the virtues of heroism, and their bodily and spiritual advantages.

When he appears, despair is replaced with tears of joy, sadness is overwhelmed by inspiration, anger is consoled by his gentle actions, and many find hope with the fact that when he is still alive, the world will be protected for him, and even if he is not there for others, what he does will cause the union of many to want to do good.

Without doubling the concepts of justice for their own benefit, without discarding the achievements of anyone, regardless of their appearance or their provenance, always considered to offer a hand to discouragement ... "

"Huh, how lame," a monotonous voice reflected with a slight disappointed edge, and following it was the sound of a book being closed, and the owner of that voice creased his eyebrows in a growing sense of betrayal.

His hands tensed to the point where his muscles became evident and several veins revealed themselves, squeezing the notebook so tightly that even the slight 'traack' of a sheet of paper being torn off - though it is being crushed - came to be heard. His mouth turned down in resentment, and his shoulders trembled as he resisted the urge to scream.

"What a piece of junk, first chapter and the guy is already a God or something," throwing the sad book behind his shoulder, the figure turned upside down on his mattress, looking up at the ceiling.

"I wasted money with that," However, the one who said that prayer did not reveal any tone that suggested a complaint or anger. And it was not long after the man got up and stretched languidly, the motions being almost robotic.

"Well, what can be done," he said that to no one, and the man's features were revealed and ... well, to the reader's discontent, it's not very striking. Brown eyes - which were currently presented as black dots - a face that in general. It could be considered standard and, a bald head, the sign of old age, but it is actually one of the small eclipses that plagued this man's life.

It turns out that, for those who do not know him - and in fact there are many that don't know of him, at least in his world - this man is called Saitama, he is a class B hero who suddenly rose the ranks thanks to a chain of events-

(Mysterious and completely independent events without any connection between them except the attacks of the House of Evolution - a facility that researched on the artificial evolution of humanity) - that, although he has rid of the monsters himself of most cases, the people, and the Association he belongs as well, has responded with doubts, and worse, with threats and the hostility of his co-workers.

However, some of the members of the Association and some civilians in particular have seen the truth about him; a man of immeasurable strength, condemned to finish all the battles he has with a single blow, longing for the day when he encounters with a being of equal or greater power.

Among those members of the Association, the most iconic could be Genos: his disciple; a cyborg of strict attitude and an overflowing and overwhelming enthusiasm on some occasions for Saitama, led by a thirst for revenge against the cyborg that destroyed his hometown.

After the introductions, let's review what happened today.

Doing the daily routine of hunting and killing monsters to maintain and elevate his status in the Association - for a higher salary, of course - the superhero had encountered a mysterious being of ... dubious origin.

Having called himself Isekayan Kcurt, and for a moment Saitama thought he did honor to that first name "A paladin armor? I mean, it's much less disturbing than an octopus or a giant pig, but ... ", given the vain proclamations that the monster made, the hero stopped for a moment and, out of curiosity, stood to listen to the false paladin.

"I am Isekayan Kcurt! I am the herald of countless worlds, and today I have decided to desolate this land of these insignificant humans! Anyone who dares to confront me, beware! For his soul I will banish to the deepest confines of Helheim!"Exclaimed the evil champion, swinging his sword around without any preservation and care for his surroundings, he throwed a malicious laugh at the end of the announcement, and it was at that time that Saitama made his great appearance.

"Yo," He raised a hand in greeting, usually he does not pay attention to the comments of the monsters - which were monologues and bold taunts, most of the time - but, if this guy turns out to be what Saitama thinks is. , then there was no harm in asking ... isn't it?

"AHA! A challenger!" The armored monster exclaimed in an unnecessarily loud voice, pointing the tip of his sword at the irrelevant-looking hero, "Are you the one who will be offered for my first victory? Well, rejoice knowing that you are the first one who will witness my beginning of - " Before he could keep going, Saitama abruptly interrupted the annoying cries of the paladin with a question,

"Do you really come from another world? ... Like, like a protagonist of an Isekai?" Tilting his head to one side, a diminutively curious and hopeful expression appeared on his face, also with small expectations ...

"Ha! So you have been shocked by my supernatural abilities, aren't you?! And let me tell you, that the natives of all the worlds I have visited are more dangerous and resistant than those on this planet, even those at the bottom of the food chain can destroy a city!" The paladin again let out a long laugh but Saitama had ignored most of the answer when he realized that the monster was going to extend the reply, but was intrigued when he heard the last piece.

"Hmm?" He hummed curiously, taking a finger to his nose. Don't be fooled, inside that carefree appearance a man was seriously considering the implications, and it came with a pleasant culmination. 'I can finish with this and I'll get to that book store in City B.'

"I'm flattered that you find interest in my story, human! Maybe I could show you clemency and let you live, but if you just prostrate before me, then I'll leave you alone." The paladin entered a pose that apparently must have been intimidating, but in reality only reinforced the bizarre conversation between the bald man and the monster. .

Saitama stared with an indescribable expression at the monster, but at the tiny hint of his eyes sharpening, the paladin went into a trance of terror and was paralyzed, but so subtle were those effects that he seemed to have felt absolutely nothing.

But when then the ridiculous-looking man took a step forward, and was a instant later in front of him, the paladin drowned with his saliva and tripped. But such speed possessed Saitama that once threw his fist forward, connecting just in the center of the monster's torso, the monster had no chance to save itself.

Predictably, the mysterious being exploded in confetti of gore and blood, decimated instantly, ending the battle just before it began, leaving only the paladin's lower extremities, which promptly collapsed on the entrails and liquids of the dead.

But, unpredictably, a beam of light suddenly appeared just where the paladin succumbed; like if it was kind of warning from God from Heaven, suddenly an ominous atmosphere fell on the street where Saitama was, who turned away from the beam not because he was hurt, but rather as a precaution.

'Shit,' the hero thought nervously, 'was it an angel or something?' Such theories arose in his head, while beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, watching the beam of light that seemed to spin on its own axis, generating circles of random colors, these diminishing in size when they were further away from the ground.

And then, the worst nightmare for anyone suddenly appeared from the beam, howling a terrible sound that reverberated Saitama's eardrums, his Machiavellian eyes shone with the power of millions of suns, and he was heading at an incalculable speed to Saitama, passing the tens of meters in the fraction of a second.

An intimidating speed, but Saitama, although surprised, was quickly recomposed and throwed a Serious Punch, however, he could not put all his strength behind that attack; the consequences would be catastrophic. So unfortunately he smothered a lot of power behind his fist, hoping it was enough to end the problem.

His curse of finding himself without an opponent to give him the emotion of a fight was manifested in an unrecognizable form, shadowed by the blinding light behind the creature... something... whatever. But then, that emotion turned to terror when his hand seemed to collide with solid concrete, in the same way that he would hit a wall before his training.

Saitama was overwhelmed instantaneously, the lights of the eyes of the thing fell on him, and his body was embraced in a cold that shook his own core, and with the sudden pain of a gigantic supernova surrounding his body, he lost consciousness, unable to think of even a swear before succumbing to the darkness.

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In the New World, in the massive continent that extended for miles to all directions, all races met in a temporary and very rare period of peace, even the criminal gangs that infested the confines of this world were lethargic, and Beasts that possessed the power to destroy and create it again were in a perennial sleep, so, for all nations, those who were human, demi-human and heteromorphic, they were at peace.

A sense of peace and harmony fell on the citizens that day, leaving them with a strange conformity while they contemplated the surrounding landscape, enjoyed the moments with their loved ones and used solitude to train or meditate.

All in all, today seemed to be a good day, but as always, this world seemed to enjoy deluding its inhabitants and then tearing out the tiniest hope of a peaceful world that seemed more distant every day.

And then that was felt.

A disturbance in the natural order suddenly manifested itself, without any warning, that not even the wisest fortune-tellers could predict, those who were human and used magic even at the lowest level felt a throbbing in their head, which gradually diminished to nothing more than a small itching in the crown of their heads.

But those who were adept at magic felt this aberration more sensibly, as if a cannonball had suddenly struck them, and many stood still, trying to endure the pain before they collapsed to the ground and grabbed their heads in agony.

The dragons woke up suddenly, a sowing discomfort in their insides and for the first time in centuries they felt sweat on their scales, from all over the world, the ancient beings rose at the same time, shaken and confused by the growing turmoil in their minds.

Others, who learned other fields of magic, such as druidism, necromancy, and among others, felt the effects of the disturbance in another way, those who learned the dark arts convulsed briefly without consequential damage, the druids lost the sensation of their bodies and of nature, the arcana felt a wave of nausea and remained paralyzed, looking towards nothingness.

But the greatest effect among all of them, was in the depths of a tomb, a dwelling that in past times was the pinnacle of power in their world and the model of an "impenetrable dungeon", its inhabitants, overflowing with power manifested in several arts and ways and bodies, felt an incredible weakness, also an unbearable burning feeling in their insides.

The weakest succumbed to the effects, fainting from the abrupt pain, or sobbing in agony as they clutched their bodies and heads. The strongest felt weak and unstable, promptly collapsing to the ground, unable to respond to the terror from being helpless to help their Supreme Being, terrified of the prospect that their leader is suffering the same effects as them.

In the bedroom of the Overlord, the Guardian Overseer Albedo almost fell to the ground suddenly, managing to save herself from falling face-first when she supported herself with her arm, she clutched the place where her heart would be with her other hand, surprised as at the same time aggravated by her love.

"A-Ainz-sama!" She gritted her teeth, trying to endure the pain, looked towards where the object of her adoration and joy was and saw, to her horror, Ainz clutching his head as he shook uncontrollably.

'This pain ...!' The Overlord thought, alarmed, feeling like he was being beaten by a horde of Seraphs Empyreon incessantly, however, this pain was simply psychological; a false sensation, or so he believed.

Albedo crawled to Ainz's feet, and she tried to grab the hand of her love, but found herself helpless in the face of the intense pain in her head, the Overlord realized this and grabbed Albedo's hand tightly, which brought consolation for the hard agony she was feeling.

'What is this? Is this the attack of a WCI? But what item could it be?'

But before he could continue his thinking, the pain suddenly disappeared, and the shock of it that Ainz felt was finally subdued by his passive ability, leaving him baffled for a moment, and he didn't realize that Albedo was touching his skull gently, but her voice implied something else.

"Ainz-sama! Ainz-sama!" She repeated her name with dread, her eyes searching desperately for the light in the sockets of her love, but for the last few minutes he didn't answer any of her pleas.

Quickly all the guards, except for Gargantua, Victim, and other Area Guardians abruptly entered the door, all wearing restless expressions and moving wildly, Demiurge was the first to speak, and in a voice that was rarely trembling, exclaimed,

"Ainz-sama!"

Apparently this was the catalyst for all the guardians to hurry around their leader, who was quiet, so much, that he disturbed the assembled greatly, Albedo was ignorant to this, and doubled his efforts to shake his love of any stupor or trance he could be in.

And suddenly, Ainz grabbed Albedo's hands, and his sockets now shone with the same reddish orbs, a wave of relief hit the guardians, but before they could feel calm, Ainz proclaimed,

"Bring all the citizens of Nazarick to the Throne Room, now."

The commanding voice of the Overlord left no room for doubts or answers, and with a nod all the guards teleported to their respective floors, leaving Ainz and Albedo alone.

The skeleton watched intensely at the succubus, who squirmed nervously under his pointed observation, and then, gently, he lifted Albedo from his lap and rose regally, as if he had dismissed what happened several moments.

"Albedo, come with me, we have much to do," he spoke with an indescribable tone, and she immediately got up and changed to her professional self. With that, both hurried to the Throne Room, the first faction in the New World to form repercussions to the effects of the mysterious disturbance.

Meanwhile, in another place...

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Thousands of beastmen had begun incursions into the Draconic Kingdom, killing, stealing and capturing slaves and food for their numbers, under the command of selected generals, they managed to decimate the Kingdom, with the majority of casualties belonging to the humans.

Urck'Awei, leader of a battalion of fierce warriors, all ready to fight for their lives until the last man, stopped immediately before beginning to devour the infant in front of him, frowned in confusion at the mysterious sensation in his stomach, and noticing the way his men behaved in the same way, he concluded he wasn't the only one who felt it.

Murmurs of uncertainty rolled among the warriors, looking at each other and examining the prisoners for the cause of the strange sensation, but they found nothing to indicate a developing magic spell among the humans locked in the cages, so what was it?

Urck'Awei, being one of the leaders, ordered the recomposition of his men, and ordered a group to check the cages for any hidden magic caster inside, and they immediately went to carry out his orders.

"Meanwhile, let's enjoy!" He howled with a hungry expression, and the beast-men would begin to devour the humans prostrated at the table, enjoying their pleas and screams of pain.

At least, that should happen.

"Hey."

A single word was heard.

A single word inexplicably echoed between the sobs, the roars, and the general mood of the subdued village. They all stopped just before burying their jaws on the soft skin of humans, irritated at being interrupted again.

Turning to where the voice appeared, they found a human, who was naked, and standing a few meters away from them. The sight was not as amazing as the people locked in the cages expected, and they only were dumbfounded by the foolish man who lost his sanity.

To make matters worse, the stupid human pointed an accusative finger at one of the beast-men who had a young human in his clutches, he sharpened his eyes in disgust and ordered, ordered the following, "Leave that girl alone."

There was a moment of silence, both races had several reactions, on the one hand, the humans were terrified and impressed by the courage of one of their companions, and on the other, the demi-humans only snorted imperiously and shook their heads, falsely afflicted for the mere stupidity that this one emanated.

The beastmen laughed at him, pounding the table with their fist between their laughter, and among them there were taunts and condescending comments directed at the man, who remained impassive in the face of their crude offenses.

One of the demi-humans approached him with confident steps and a face full of arrogance, he motioned with his arms to attract the attention of his companions, making sure to put a scene before reaching a few steps before the human, and when he extended his arm and prepared to crush the head of the stupid being, something incredible happened.

This beastman, responsible for decimating a wall of defenders from the village as if they were flies, exploded like a firework of guts and crimson, leaving nothing behind while blood spattered on the savages and the people inside the cages.

Then, roars of fury and cries of fear rolled through the village, and soon a horde of beastmen fell on top of the man, who had a fist forward that was blowing smoke and had a unspeakable expression. All the invaders of the village charged like one, seeking to tear the human apart and give him the worst possible death.

But again, the man seemed not to move while the first demi-humans exploded in the same way as the previous one, sowing terror among the ranks of the warriors and causing others to stop immediately.

This terror allowed the man to continue massacring with his blows his enemies, his movements untrained but complemented by the mere force behind his attacks, just connecting his knuckles with the body of another beastman caused a shockwave that threw the others behind him several meters behind, some dying as they hit the ground, breaking their necks and most of them lying injured between their deads, perplexed and terrified by the sudden show of power of a slave.

The leader of the group ordered his troops to retreat for a moment and the archers to shoot, but when the arrows were to hit the human, he grabbed one of the projectiles and threw the arrow back to one of the archers, and had a clean head-shot, knocking the bodies that were behind him, scaring further the beastmen.

A group attacked behind the human, but he simply turned around and, with a movement of his arm, separated their bodies in half, generating fountains of blood and greater fear among the warriors.

The battle, if it could be called that, continued only with the beastmen trying pathetically to connect their attacks with the man, with him dodging them with great efficiency and ease and replicating with numerous deadly punches to their torsos.

"[Consecutive Normal Punches]," was the murmur the man gave.

A rain of blood fell briefly on the village, the stench of death was nonexistent. For the evaporation of the bodies of the beasts when they were struck by the mysterious man, calcining in the very thin air after receiving his attacks.

Urck'Awei watched in terror as the human decimated the army he led for so long, remaining uncertain and doubtful, shaking violently from the fear he felt, when he saw the face of the human, he found no fury, no confidence, no mercy, only an empty look on it's eyes that seemed to penetrate his soul.

The captive humans only stared in astonishment at the unexpected hero who appeared from nowhere, marvelling at the way he got rid of his enemies with blows that seemed to be lazy, unable to think of anything else while admiring the performance of the man, a sense of hope exploding in their hearts as the number of beastmen dwindled rapidly.

In the end, only a couple of beastmen and Urck'Awei were still alive, the two tried to escape, but the human quickly - and with just a wave of his hand - split the defectors in half, and the leader fell over his backside as he watched with pure terror the beast that was approaching him, and when he was so close that it blocked the sun, and darkened it's frame, he quickly knelt before it and begged for mercy.

The babblings of the demi-human were ignored by the man, and although the slaves and prisoners wished for the leader's death, the man simply ordered him, with a voice matching his frigid gaze, "Go away."

And that was what Urck'Awei did, leaving behind his dignity and honor, he ran as fast as he could to the nearest base, shedding tears of fear during his escape.

Very soon the 'fight' ended, and the only evidence that implied of it in the first place were the bloodstains spilled on the floor, the walls, on the cages and those inside it, and especially on the man, who did not show signs of weariness in the least, but the indescribable expression remained there, while looking at the places where the beastmen were previously standing, now replacing them were the smallest parts of their bodies. A cloud of dust prevented the prisoners from examining the newcomer's features.

The people locked in the cages waited with bated breath for the man's next move, all the pairs of eyes in the place were nailed to the hero, all full of hope and pleas that hanged in the air, but they remained silent. There was a pulse of silence and then...

The man turned to them, and the way his eyes widened was not picked up by the villagers, and slowly, cautiously, he began to walk towards them, and there were some who begged for the man to free them, others thanked him from the bottom of their soul, but most remained silent while the hero - who wasn't very tall, now that they could see better - approached the cage with more people.

It was at that moment, that the dust rose up and revealed a teenager with foreign features; black hair, and sharp dark brown eyes. He wasn't the most handsome of men, but the women were attracted to the naked knight, even if he didn't have armor. The other men stood looking at him with expressions close to admiration, and the little ones were amazed at the appearance of a hero from a fairy tale.

The next thing he did betrayed his insensitive gaze; he broke the chains and padlocks that kept the cage closed, and gently helped those inside out, helping the weak with his strong arms and comforting those who cried with hesitating caresses, and went to repeat the same process with the other cages, and soon after all the prisoners were released.

Many surrounded their savior, but he held his hands up to stop the slaves from any flattering remarks, and asked, with a voice that possessed a tremor,

"Can someone give me something to wear?"

The silence that followed that question was such that the sound of a needle falling could be heard.

"Of course! I'll look for a tunic and pants for you," One of the captives, a middle-aged man with a prolific beard, responded enthusiastically, and was going to complete his task, but the man first held his hand again, and remained pensive for a moment, and at the end he said, "Only pants, please."

The ex-prisoner just nodded and ran off, trying to dodge what was left of the beastmen along the way, the others were silent, waiting for any other comment from their savior.

The hero simply looked at them for a long moment, sweeping their eyes over them, examining them, making calculations and hypotheses that they, simple villagers, could not even begin to guess their name.

The reality turned out to be more pathetic, when actually the man's head was a chaos of desperate questions and uncertain answers, such was the number of questions that it would be impossible to list them completely, but the one that stood out among all put a stop to any other, and the young man focused completely on it.

'I have hair?!'

On the outside, one could conclude that the man was examining everything around him while running a hand through his hair, his expression becoming contemplative when he looked at the ground, frowning his eyebrows for an unknown reason, and it was at this point that several villagers, out of not disrespect, but of necessity, began to disperse through the village, stealing the belongings and weapons of the beastmen, and there were many who discussed and reflected apart from the foreign man.

Many families mourned for their dead, others just looked at the nothingness, traumatized and scarred by the horrors they experienced at the hands of the beastmen, but when they all looked at the man, who, from their perspective, the sunlight shined on his back and framed a heroic view, could not help but feel inspired and gained renewed determination.

Meanwhile, the stranger remained thinking until, slowly, he looked up again and began to watch the other villagers, and with a taciturn voice, he asked,

"Are there more injured, or ...?"

The figure of the hero grew before them, and they could not deny now the humility that this man possessed, even if he appeared out of nowhere and had many mysteries on him.

An older man stepped forward, and with a voice worn out from weeks of famine and thirst, said, "No, the only ones who were going to die were the ones at the table, along with the beastmen," he revealed grimly. The man nodded calmly, and then proceeded to direct puzzling questions to the villager, such as 'Where is here?' 'What were those furry men?' 'Why you were captured?'

It was obvious to them, that this man was a complete foreigner, an adventurer, maybe, from lands far away. To not to know things that were daily for the inhabitants of the Draconic Kingdom and the adyacent nations, but they did not judge this kind soul, they simply gave looks of pity and understanding between them, imperceptible to the almost innocent look that the young man possessed.

The villagers guided the teenager to one of the nearby houses, and urged him to sit down.

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Whew boy, that's a bad start, I hope you like it!

Please, make reviews and let me know if there is anything wrong with my narrative!