Epilogue: Emperor of Mankind

You have already accomplished what others deemed impossible. You created a civilization from nothing, built it up with your own hands, and then watched as it crumbled into ashes, burning under your gaze like a fleeting dream.

You devoured the very system that once sought to control you, bending it to your will, shaping it into your most obedient tool.

And then, you ascended—far beyond the limits of mortal existence, beyond even the concept of what had once been considered possible.

You became an emperor.

You became a god.

Even Alaya, the will of humanity itself, deemed you the most dangerous individual to have ever existed—far more terrifying than the Crimson Moon and her devoted cults combined.

What were you again?

God Emperor.

That's who you are…

"Are you planning to leave again, my emperor?" Altrouge's voice broke the silence, her crimson eyes watching you with an unreadable expression.

She knew. Of course, she did. She always knew. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much power you seized, in the end, you would always leave.

Not because of betrayal. Not because of hatred. Simply because it was who you were.

A hollow man, wandering in search of purpose, chasing something you had lost long ago and never managed to find again.

In the past, you had believed your desires were simple. You thought you wanted an empire—an unshakable dominion where your name would be eternal.

You thought you wanted power—strength beyond measure, enough to stand above all creation. You thought you wanted women—every beautiful girl you encountered, kneeling at your feet, offering themselves to you without hesitation.

And yet… you had already done it all.

You built your empire. You took everything you ever wanted. You crushed every foe that dared to stand in your way.

Now, with everything at your fingertips, you felt nothing.

The hollowness inside you remained, it gnawed at you, ate away at your very being, consuming you from within.

"You can come with me, or you can stay here and rule in my place, Altrouge Brunestud," you stated, your voice calm yet distant.

She chuckled at that, shaking her head. "I am your queen, and I always have been, my emperor. Never call me by my name again. From now on, you will only address me as 'My Queen.'"

A smirk tugged at her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing along your jaw before moving lower, trailing down your chest.

"Now, allow me to serve you," she whispered. "We will depart tomorrow. This empire no longer matters to us—to you, or to me. Let my father deal with her own problems."

With that, she stripped herself bare, casting aside her garments without hesitation.

Her pale, flawless skin glowed under the dim light, her body radiating both elegance and raw desire.

She wasted no time, straddling you as her soaked pussy aligned with your hardened cock.

Then, with one slow, deliberate motion, she lowered herself onto you, taking you in completely, her tight walls stretching around your thick length.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips before turning into a shameless moan, her voice echoing through the chamber.

She rode you with reckless abandon, her movements wild and unrestrained, as if she were determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

Her full, perky breasts bounced with every thrust, her nails raking against your skin as she surrendered herself to ecstasy.

You leaned back into the pillows, watching as she worked for her pleasure just as much as yours.

Your hands found her hips, gripping them firmly, guiding her movements as she ground herself against you.

The night was long, filled with the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh, of moans that carried the weight of years spent in each other's grasp.

You took her again and again, emptying yourself deep inside her over and over until exhaustion finally took hold.

Now, as dawn approached, both of you lay tangled together, bodies intertwined.

You were ready.

After ruling the vampire empire, after seizing everything that could be taken…

It was time to see what the world had become in your absence.

And so, your wandering life begins once more. But this time, you are not alone. You bring your vampire queen along with you—the one who truly understands the emptiness festering inside your heart.

She is the only one who does not see you as Uther Pendragon, nor as some almighty God-Emperor to be revered.

To her, you are nothing more than the same fucked-up individual trudging through this fucked-up world, just as she is.

Despite the undeniable difference in your races, the two of you are cut from the same cloth.

She is the only kind of person you can truly get along with, someone who understands the abyssal darkness and the hollow void carved deep within your soul.

Your relationship is not romantic. Hell, it isn't even remotely healthy by any conventional standard.

And yet, the bond you share with her is far stronger than any bullshit moralities, societal norms, or convenient rules that humanity dares to impose.

"Where will we go, Emperor?" she asks, her crimson eyes locked onto you, unwavering, unflinching—focused solely on you and no one else.

"I don't know," you reply, the words leaving your lips with a cold, indifferent certainty.

You don't know. You never have, and you probably never will. Even as a so-called god, you have long since lost any sense of direction, any reason to choose where to go or how to live.

And so, you both continue wandering aimlessly through this frozen wasteland—a land that, in the distant future, will become the Soviet Union and modern-day Russia.

But before you left, you made sure of one thing. You donned the latest and most advanced version of the Iron Man suit—one that didn't rely on some weak-ass Arc Reactor for power.

No, this armor was fueled by the unfathomable energy of the Infinity Stones themselves.

And with it, as someone already ridiculously overpowered, you became something even more absurdly unstoppable.

Without purpose, without answers, and without even questioning it, the two of you wandered aimlessly through the desolate land.

The cold bit at your skin, but you barely felt it anymore. Eventually, you stumbled upon Attila the Hun, sitting motionless before a dying fire.

Her hollow eyes stared into the embers as if she were trying to see something that no longer existed. She looked empty—just like the two of you.

"Little girl, do you want to come along with us?" You extended a hand to her, your voice carrying an eerie kindness, as if it barely mattered whether she took it or not.

Her lifeless eyes flickered toward you, frowning as she took in your presence.

Then, without hesitation, she sniffed the air like a wolf catching the scent of something foul.

"I can smell the stench of a rotten civilization on you, Roman Emperor," she said coldly.

For the first time in who knows how long, her voice held a hint of emotion—hatred. Purpose. "I was born to destroy Rome. I should strike you down where you stand, but you rule no more. And for that reason alone… I will follow you. So that one day, when the time is right, I can destroy whatever is left of what you once called your empire."

You chuckled at her words, amused by her conviction.

It was the kind of laughter that belonged to a man who had long since stopped caring.

"I rule no more, Sefar," you said, your tone tinged with something between mockery and indifference. "You may burn God. You may tear civilization apart. You may even shatter the stars. But you cannot destroy what has already been destroyed."

She clenched her fists, eyes narrowing.

"Then I will destroy every civilization you ever set foot in, no matter where or when," she declared stubbornly, as if her anger alone could shake the foundations of history.

"You won't," you replied, barely giving her the dignity of your full attention. "Alaya will stop you. You can't even fight off her dogs."

Her presence no longer interested you.

She was nothing more than a madwoman, a relic of destruction with nothing in her head but blind hatred and delusions of grandeur.

Another lost soul screaming at a world that no longer cared.

Just as she opened her mouth to protest, Altrouge moved.

Fast.

"Wait—!"

A brutal kick shot into Attila's stomach. She barely managed to block it with her forearm, but at a cost—her bones creaked, nearly fracturing from the sheer force.

The impact alone sent her staggering back, breath hitching as pain coursed through her body.

The Eclipse Princess stood before her, eyes burning with menace.

"He offered you shelter. A home. Companionship. And you spat on his kindness, threatening to destroy him instead," she growled, voice laced with fury. "It takes all the restraint I have not to kill you where you stand, Sefar."

You placed a hand on Altrouge's shoulder, feeling the tension in her body.

The moment your touch met her skin, her rage seemed to ebb.

Her eyes softened, her expression losing its lethal edge as she turned toward you.

"Let's go, my queen," you said, your voice calm but firm. "She isn't worth any more of our time."

Altrouge exhaled, the fire in her gaze dimming just a bit.

Then, with one final act of contempt, she spat at Attila before turning on her heel.

"Yes, my emperor," she said. "Let's leave this fool behind."

Without a second thought, the two of you walked away, vanishing into the frozen wasteland once more.

Neither of you looked back. Neither of you cared what Attila wanted to say.

Perhaps her words were important. Perhaps they weren't.

But life moved on regardless, and the gods had never given a damn about the cries of sheep.

Both of you did not remain in the frozen wasteland any longer.

The world was far too vast, too limitless, for the two of you to stay confined in one place forever.

With every step you took, your footprints left their mark upon civilization, and whenever that happened, those civilizations were doomed to be shattered and rebuilt.

Not by you, but by Attila—the one who had sworn to erase any kingdom, city, or empire that bore the imprint of your passing.

With each stride you took, Attila's determination burned ever brighter.

She would annihilate the kingdoms, the cities, the empires you set foot, ensuring that nothing remained of them but dust and ruins.

And in her wake, Alaya would pursue her relentlessly, mending and rebuilding every civilization that had been reduced to nothingness.

It was a never-ending cycle of destruction and rebirth, an endless war between erasure and restoration. The people, the animals, the very land itself—none of them remembered.

Not a single trace of the past remained in their minds.

Nothing but a hollow, gnawing emptiness, an unshakable void, a sense that something had happened—something catastrophic—yet they could never grasp what.

Just like your heart.

You felt nothing at their destruction. No grief, no sorrow.

Only pity.

A cold, detached pity for the fragile beings of this world.

Humans were nothing but playthings for higher beings.

Freedom? Free will? They had never truly mattered.

Their fate, their future—everything about them—was shaped and twisted by forces far greater than themselves.

And now, you finally understood why Goetia had sought to incinerate humanity, why he had desired to tear them apart and build them anew.

He wanted to grant them something beyond the illusion of choice. True free will. True salvation. True freedom.

But to achieve that, he needed to erase the influence of Alaya, of Gaia, of every godlike force that sought to toy with mankind's existence.

He had to wipe the slate clean, to reduce humanity to nothing before raising them up once more, unshackled from the unseen hands that had bound them since the dawn of their existence.

Only when nothing could manipulate them—when their free will, their decisions, their destinies were entirely their own—would humanity be truly saved.

Yet, no one understood him. No one, except you.

You had seen civilizations rise and fall, had watched the world burn and be rebuilt countless times.

From the perspective of mankind, this world did not need saving.

But they were blind. They could not see the sickness festering within the very foundation of their existence.

You knew better.

This world was sick. And it needed salvation.

Your heart pounded.

Faster.

Uncontrollably fast.

But it was not out of compassion for humans.

It was exhilaration.

For the first time in a long, long while, you had found a new purpose.

You would be the one to destroy humanity. To erase them and rebuild them from nothing.

 You would be their salvation, their god, their absolute.

And nothing—nothing—would stand in your way.

"My queen, have you ever found a purpose in your life? Have you ever felt that everything was no longer meaningless?" you asked your queen, your companion—the one who understood you better than anyone else in this world, the Eclipse Princess.

"I already found my purpose long ago, Emperor," she replied, her voice soft yet unwavering.

"My purpose has always been you. That is why I am willing to abandon everything for your sake. I have always found joy in watching you, in playing a role in your plans, in becoming one with you. Not once in my life have I ever felt hollow when I am with you. That is why I want to help you—to help you find your own purpose and meaning in life, just as you have given mine."

"I have found them," you declared, conviction burning in your voice. "The path will not be easy, and we will not merely remain in one world. We will traverse timelines, shattering the barriers of fate itself."

Altrouge chuckled, her crimson eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Nothing worth having ever comes easy, my Emperor."

"So be it, then." Your gaze stretched toward the endless horizon, where the future awaited. "We will march upon the Shadow Kingdom and Avalon, carve out our dominion, and take our rightful place."

But for that, you needed power—more than ever before.

You needed allies, warriors willing to fight for your cause. You needed an empire, a force so vast that even the gods would tremble before it.

From this day onward, you would reclaim your position as the God Emperor.

The Emperor of Mankind.

The true guardian of humanity.

The one who would grant them true free will.

And you would take what was yours—even the Shadow Queen herself.

It's also the time for Morgan and Artoria to return to your calling once more.

The pretenders who dared to call themselves the protectors of mankind—the false guardians, the stagnant overseers—they would burn.

Not Alaya. Not Gaia. Not even the will of Akasha itself would stand in your way.

If they did, they would be erased, wiped from existence like the feeble illusions they were.

The die was cast.

And now, the world would bow before you once again.