C14 I Am The First And The Last Von Death And I Will Rule Alone

The senator, still gasping, tried to scramble backward, but my paratroopers held him in place. I reached for The Reaper, my great sword, its meteorite black steel with red markings gleaming under the d*vine light still lingering in the air.

As I lifted it, I paused. My hands tightened around the hilt. My mind was screaming at me.

Was I really about to do this? Was I really about to m*rder a defensless person In cold blood?

I had served in the army, but I had never been deployed. I had never actually killed anyone before. Not to mention the fact that he was unarmed elderly civilian. I was trained to kill armed enemies who wanted to kill me.

I always I asked myself If s*it finally hit the fan one day and from the looks of how things were going back In reality It wasnt long before It would, would I be able to pull the trigger?

I thought I would, then It came to either me or him, I would because I wanted to live and was terrified of dying, ceasing to exist.

But now In front of me It wasnt an armed enemy with an assault rifle who could kill me any moment, leaving no room for hesitation but a defensles old man...

And now… Now, I was seconds away from executing him in front of the most powerful people in the Ducatum. The weight of that reality hit me all at once. I froze.

I could feel the entire court watching, waiting, holding their breath, as It did whispers started feeling my ears.

"Kill him... he deserves It... make him a lesson for all to see..."

With each passing second they grew louder as they did unbeknown to me my scleras became pitch black while black blood vessels appeared under my eyebags.

On the side the high priestess flinched visibly, as she looked at Dracula she could feel the sinister, evil and unholy psionic energy radiating from him, she could even see his scleras become pitch black.

She shuddered, giving her all not to start vomitting on the spot, somenthing, somenthing very sinister and unh*ly was taking place.

Yet she dared not say It, she couldnt, she hated to admit It but she was afraid, she was utterly terrified right now.

"KILL HIM!"

The voices roared In my mind as they did I finally lifted the great sword high above my head. The senator, realizing this was really happening, began to thrash violently, screaming.

"NO! NO... MERCY! PLEASE, I WAS WRONG! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY...!"

I brought the sword down. The blade cut clean through. For a split second, nothing happened. Then... Blood spurted onto the marble floor, pooling beneath the now headless corpse.

The nobles head rolled across the dais, coming to a slow, wet stop at the feet of the High Priestess. A single drop of blood landed on her cheek. The court was silent. Then a noble vomited on the spot.

A senator collapsed, shaking violently. The soldiers remained stone faced, but their grip on their weapons tightened.

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I rested The Reaper against my armored shoulder as I did my scleras returned to normal. Then, I looked at them all, the nobles, the merchants, the generals, the priests. And I spoke.

"There will be no mercy for traitors."

I turned my gaze to the rest of the crowd, my voice as cold as steel.

"Now, does anyone else wish to object?"

Silence. Then one by one, the nobles, the merchants, the senators, the priests. They bowed. They bent their heads. And they whispered, terrified and reverent.

"All hail the Imperator."

I turned, stepping back up to my steel throne, sitting down with purpose, with power, with absolute finality. I leaned back, resting the Reaper across my lap.

"Good."

I exhaled.

"Now, get going."

...

High Priestess POV.

Outside the Imperial Palace

The moment she stepped past the destroyed grand bronze gates of the Imperial Palace, her stomach gave out.

The High Priestess of the Pantheon, one of the most revered figures in Nova Roma, the voice of the g*ds themselves, collapsed onto her hands and knees, retching violently onto the stone paved road.

Her body trembled, her fingers dug into the cold dirt, and her lungs burned as she gagged, over and over, until nothing but bile remained.

Behind her, a contubernium of paratroopers stood at attention, forming a perfect circle around her as she broke down.

Yet not one of them moved. Not one of them flinched. Not one of them even acknowledged her suffering.

They did not offer a hand. They did not ask if she needed aid. They did not even look at her.

They simply stood there, their stone cold gazes hidden beneath their steel helmets, their fingers resting on their rifles, watching the darkened streets for any sign of movement.

As if her suffering was nothing more than irrelevant background noise. As if she no longer mattered. She felt weak. Humiliated. But above all terrified.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her vision swam, but her mind refused to stop replaying the horror she had witnessed inside the throne room.

WHAT… WHAT WAS THAT?!

The Prince no, the Imperator had stood before them, clad in his custom made heavy legioneers armor, his presence dominating, absolute, unyielding.

But it wasn't just his authority. It was what she had seen. The filthy psionic energy that radiated from him. The way the air itself seemed to warp around him.

The way his scleras darkened into the abyss, and his blood red pupils burned with something beyond mortal comprehension.

She had seen many things in her lifetime. She had seen miracles, divine blessings, acts of holy might. She had seen curses, plagues, omens of doom.

But never, never in her entire life had she felt the raw, terrifying presence that had poured off of him in that moment.

The Imperator who had taken the throne was not human. She was sure of it. Something else. Something beyond mortal comprehension.

A DEMON. A WRAITH. OR SOMETHING WORSE.

She could still see it in her mind that horrifying expressionless face as he executed the senator without hesitation. Not a flinch. Not a blink. Not an ounce of hesitation.

And the worst part? For a brief second just a single second. She swore she saw the prince smiling. Not in triumph. Not in cruelty. Not even in malice. But in absolute indifference. As if taking a life meant nothing to him.

As if he could do it a thousand times more and not feel a single thing. She shuddered violently, gripping her robes tighter, bile still burning the back of her throat.

"What… What is he?"

She whispered, her voice hoarse, barely above a breath. One of the paratroopers finally acknowledged her. A single soldier, his face hidden beneath his helmet, his voice devoid of emotion, simply responded:

"He is the Imperator."

The High Priestess whipped her head up, her bloodshot eyes locking onto the soldier.

"That is NOT the Imperator!"

She snapped, her voice filled with something between hysteria and desperation.

"The Imperator of old was a warrior, a conqueror, a leader of men! But that?! That thing?! That was no man! That was something else!"

The paratrooper didn't respond. Not a word. Not an ounce of reaction. Just silence.

The entire contubernium remained still, their bodies like statues, their weapons gripped with unwavering discipline.

And that silence, that complete, utter silence felt even more suffocating than their presence. It was then that she realized. These soldiers…

These warriors who had marched into the Imperial palace, who had executed orders without a second thought. They weren't afraid. They didn't flinch at the filthy psionic energy that had poured from their Imperator.

They didn't react to the darkness that surrounded him. Because to them. This was normal. This was natural. This was expected. Her blood ran cold.

How… How long had they known? How long had they served him like this? Had he always been like this? Or had something changed inside him? Something that should not have returned?

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, her pulse hammering in her ears. Then, forcing her trembling legs to move, she stood up. Her body felt weak. Fragile. Insignificant. But she forced herself forward.

"Take me back to the temple,"

She muttered.

Without hesitation, the paratroopers turned on their heels, forming a silent escort around her. As they began their march back to the Pantheon of G*ds, she cast one last glance over her shoulder.At the Imperial Palace, now draped in the shadows of the night.

At the throne room, where the man who had once been Prince Dracula Von Death now sat upon a throne of steel and swords, his expression unreadable.

And in that moment. She knew. She knew she would never speak of what she saw. Because whatever entity had taken the throne. Whatever unh*ly force had returned to rule the Spartanum Ducatum.