"Eh, the next video is actually about the First Emperor!?"
Kirina's exclaimed.
In this age where Heroic Spirits shone brilliantly, each became the guardian deity of their nations.
And among them, those domineering kings had already become idols worshiped by all.
Uruk's most ancient King of Heroes, Britain's King Arthur, Macedonia's Conqueror King, Egypt's Sun King, and so on.
Every one of them was an absolute sovereign, adored by their people.
And in the Empire, of course it will be the First Emperor, and now Nameless also.
"The First Emperor, huh? I wonder what kind of stunning showing the Emperor will give us." Illya was just as full of anticipation.
Back in the Absolute Demonic Front singularity, Gilgamesh—who was once hated as a brash "chuunibyou brat"—grew into a wise king worshiped by the masses.
His overwhelming charisma was laid bare: his farewell speech defying the gods, the tireless management of every little detail for each Uruk citizen, his "mere fatal wounds" heroic spirit…
All of it once again made him one of the most beloved Heroic Spirits.
Now with this preview, everyone was waiting to see what highlights the First Emperor would bring.
"In Eternal Emperor, after the First Emperor and Nameless severed the bond between man and gods, he received an elixir of immortality from the principal, Tamamo-no-Mae."
Kirina recalled the earlier reveal and couldn't help her surprise:
"Even the King of Heroes received the herb of immortality, but he refused to use it. Could it be that the First Emperor actually took it?"
Back in The Oldest King, the proud King of Heroes, after parting ways with Nameless and Enkidu, had finally found the plant of immortality after endless hardship.
But in the end, he merely watched as a serpent devoured it, returning to Uruk and calmly awaiting his death.
Meanwhile, emperors throughout history had ceaselessly sought immortality.
How would the First Emperor choose?
"…Probably didn't eat it, right?"
Illya answered with uncertainty.
With the First Emperor's pride, would he casually consume a pill offered by someone else?
Especially not when it came from a fox spirit trying to steal Nameless away.
If it had been Nameless himself offering it, then guaranteed—even if it were poison—he'd swallow it without hesitation!
"..."
Sanjiro didn't want to comment.
Damn, back in the Absolute Demonic Front video, Shikotei had bet with both Artoria and Gilgamesh, trying to kick out these meddling foreign rulers.
But even he hadn't expected that Gilgamesh—who had been endlessly roasted by Alaya—would suddenly shine so brightly.
A king worthy of worship, inspiring his people to die willingly for him.
What was supposed to be public humiliation had instantly flipped into public commendation.
Sanjiro didn't even need to be there in person; he could already picture Gilgamesh's smug grin.
If not for his pride as the oldest Hero, he'd probably be frog-jumping across the beach yelling—
"This king could watch your faces forever—those envious, jealous, hateful faces!"
Now, it was Shikotei's turn.
With his pride, there was no doubt he'd invite Gilgamesh to watch, just to throw it back in his face.
Once the Lostbelt's First Emperor appeared, the entire world would be shaken.
Even Gilgamesh himself would be dumbfounded.
That scene would be priceless.
Sanjiro thought about warning Gilgamesh.
But then he remembered—Gil probably still had a bone to pick with him.
Don't forget, in the opening of the Gods of Olympus video, when Sanjiro returned to Chaldea from Uruk, he had brazenly revealed—
That he'd pocketed thirty percent of Gil's Gate of Babylon gems.
On top of that, he tricked Gil a second time with his noble self-sacrifice act.
Not to mention conspiring with Dr. Roman using strawberry cake to deceive Gil together.
Damn you, Alaya!
Why'd you have to expose that?!
You're just trying to screw me over!
Speaking of, Uncle B had followed him to the market last time—who knows what he was up to after that.
In one timeline, Cú Chulainn literally became Uncle B's Noble Phantasm.
Even more useful than blondie Jason in the Greek singularity!
The only relief was that the version of Heracles who appeared was rational—not Berserker.
Otherwise, if he wandered around Fuyuki, he'd be clearing the whole city just running errands for Illya.
"…Still doesn't feel safe. That golden idiot likes to wander too!" Sanjiro rubbed his temples.
In Unlimited Blade Works, those two were sworn enemies.
Gil had tried to dig out Illya's heart as a Lesser Grail to activate the Greater Grail.
The ensuing battle had them both brutalizing poor berserk Uncle B.
If they ran into each other again now, wouldn't that just be Mars colliding with Earth? Instant carnage.
The side video was wrapping up.
Looking at the Greek gods all eyeing him, Sanjiro sighed:
"Athena truly deserves to be called the proudest goddess of victory—you're the only one who feels trustworthy."
They always said Hades was the "conscience" of the Olympians, but in reality, he was just a pitiful honest man.
As for Artemis and Apollo—those twisted siblings needed no further comment.
Zeus, that great libido walking in two legs, even turned into a girl to seduce him—a heavyweight pervert.
Even Hera, goddess of marriage, was scheming with golden apples to push him into confessing.
Compared to them, Athena—holder of wisdom and victory—kept her cold composure the whole way through.
Truly rare.
And then—
At the very end of the video, the screen flashed to scenes connected to the goddess of wisdom.
From the moment Sanjiro descended into the Age of Gods, she had already been watching him.
No—not just glancing.
She had been watching him constantly!
???
When I type this question mark, it means you're acting hella suspicious!
Sanjiro's hair stood on end.
Why are you staring at me every single moment?
At this rate you could count the hairs on my body!
Kirina couldn't help but gasp:
"Don't tell me Athena also fell for Nameless, and she wants to monopolize him all for herself? Isn't that even scarier than yandere Artemis?"
"Definitely scary!" Illya nodded hard.
The goddess of wisdom really was something else.
Who knew what she was plotting?
If she ever descended to the human world, Illya would have to be the one to protect Sanjiro!
Which made her even more thankful she'd just gotten the Red A Summon Card. Otherwise, she'd have no chance to resist.
And of course, there was always Uncle B, who saw her as his daughter—he could help when needed.
Lately, though, he'd been acting all mysterious, who knew what he was up to.
The side story finally ended.
Compared to the two-hour movie-level main features, this extra was only a few minutes.
Enough to make countless viewers curse out loud—
Blorbo-[Too short, too weak, can you cut it down any further?!]
IDigBigClock-[Damn it, I already had my pants off, and this is all I get? That's it, that's it, that's it?!]
MoonlitGachaVictim-[I get it, it's because we've been freeloading, huh? Fine—where's the paid version? I've got money!]
AlayaRiggedThisShit-[Damn cliffhanger bastard, stringing us along again!]
ProfoundCultivator-[Update faster! I just want to see His Majesty the First Emperor appear!]
DaoistYoungMaster-[Seriously hyped for the Emperor—he's definitely going to outshine both Gilgamesh and King Arthur!]
YoMamaBeenSlobbin-[Heh! Your Majesty cant outshine a bull!]
…
Meanwhile.
At the seafood market.
Heracles stared at the screen, watching god after god falling for Sanjiro, and grew increasingly convinced he couldn't entrust Illya to him.
Those were gods.
Back when he was born, Hera nearly killed him.
Later, he was cursed to madness and slaughtered his own children.
To the gods, humans were nothing more than clowns on stage for their amusement.
Golden apples, golden fleece, hunting monstrous boars—all of it was just scripts the gods had written beforehand.
The difference in existence was too vast for them to ever understand human frailty or helplessness.
It was like how humans looked at an anthill—often burning them with magnifying glasses or flooding them with water.
When the power gap was that overwhelming, even your anger and resistance looked like "cute antics" in their eyes.
Heracles snorted coldly.
"That man… truly a walking disaster."
"Hahaha, for once, this king agrees with you." Gilgamesh chuckled lightly.
No wonder they were kindred bastards—this fellow's allure was so potent that even the gods of Olympus had fallen under his spell.
Once the Olympians descended, a true battle over him would inevitably erupt.
And speaking of disasters, those false gods were already scheming to snatch Sanjiro away and use him as a lab rat.
If the real Olympians arrived on top of that… now that would be a show worth watching.
Cu Chulainn glanced at the two who, for the moment, seemed to be getting along. At last, he could breathe a sigh of relief.
Perfect! He had successfully saved Fuyuki City and preserved his peaceful, carefree life.
As long as those two didn't start fighting, anything else was negotiable.
But the very next second—
Heracles' gaze turned icy as he looked at Gilgamesh.
"During the Holy Grail War, you killed me while I was lost to madness, driving me back to the Throne of Heroes. Worse, you nearly harmed Illya. That debt will never be forgiven!"
Losing to him in battle was one thing.
What Heracles could not accept was that this man, despite possessing the Gate of Babylon, had still sought to rip Illya's heart from her chest to make her a Lesser Grail.
Unforgivable!
"Oh? Back then, it was nothing but a passing whim. I no longer have any interest in a mere Lesser Grail." Gilgamesh's smile didn't waver.
Heracles' words carried no weight with him.
After all, during that time he'd been tainted by the black mud, twisted into a tyrant drunk on delusions of grandeur.
Once his "dear friend" had lopped off his arm, he'd slowly returned to his true self.
No—truth be told, even his current, much-praised image as the benevolent King of Heroes was thanks to the influence of his two companions, Nameless and Enkidu.
"Hmph. If you'd spoken like this back then, I wouldn't have regarded you as my enemy." Heracles retorted bluntly.
He had everything—so why had he chosen to act like some loathsome tyrant?
Clearly, the black mud had rotted his brain.
Which was why Sanjiro's actions had been so satisfying: cutting off that arm, returning Gilgamesh's own words straight to him.
Heracles had watched that scene more than once with relish.
Even Illya had set it as the wallpaper on his phone—the moment Nameless severed Gilgamesh's arm.
"This king once mistook you for a hero," Gilgamesh's smile faded, "but you're nothing more than a beast with brute strength."
For all his composure, even he couldn't keep smiling at someone who stared at him with such naked hostility.
Arrogant and prideful enough to sneer at gods—that was the real Gilgamesh.
"But this beast is more than enough to smash you to pieces with a single punch." Heracles shot back, unflinching.
"Heh… A beast is still a beast," Gilgamesh sneered. "From beginning to end, nothing more than a toy in the hands of gods."
"And what are you, then? A watchdog raised by those same gods, even fitted with your own special chain? What right have you to mock me?" Heracles' voice dripped with scorn.
In truth, the two weren't so different.
Both were demigod heroes. Both basked in the attention of the divine. Both were treated as pawns, thorns in the sides of the gods.
And both had rejected divinity itself, choosing instead to walk the earth as Heroic Spirits.
Their lives could have been carved from the same mold.
"Oh? And do you expect that beastly nose of yours to sniff out Nameless?" Gilgamesh's laugh grew sharper, laced with mockery.
Countless Heroic Spirits searched for Sanjiro.
Yet no matter how close they stood to him, they could not recognize him.
Even Jalter. Even that rebellious knight.
He—Gilgamesh—was the first to see through and recognize Nameless.
And a mere Berserker thought himself worthy of comparison?
"Hmph. And you, a deluded tyrant rotted by black mud, think you could ever recognize him?"
Heracles shot back without hesitation.
With Gilgamesh's arrogance, even if Sanjiro stood before him, he would never have recognized him.
At best, he'd have dismissed him as a nameless boy, unworthy of notice.
Cu Chulainn, watching from the side, was left more and more bewildered.
Why were these two suddenly dragging Nameless into their squabbling?
You're not love-struck maidens—why this obsession with finding him?
If you're that desperate, why not just fight it out and let the loser go genderbend himself to be the bride?
…On second thought, maybe not.
His imagination betrayed him with the image of a muscle-bound Heracles squeezed into a frilly magical-girl costume.
The mental picture was searingly painful.
Cautiously, he spoke up: "Uh, I think I'll turn in for the night. Maybe you two should… take a break from each other?"
Because if these two stayed together much longer, fists would inevitably fly.
Just watching them gave him a headache.
They should each go their separate ways—and stop interfering with his peaceful downtime.
He had anime to catch up on! Stone Ocean had just dropped on Netflix, twelve episodes in one go, and he wasn't about to miss it.
At his suggestion, the two men snorted coldly and went their separate ways.
The crowd bustled through the marketplace entrance, blissfully unaware that a battle capable of razing Fuyuki City had just been silently averted.
====
United States
In a subterranean base, eleven figures sat in a circle of twelve chairs, each radiating a powerful presence.
On a massive screen before them played the side story "The Grand Beauty Who Enchanted the Gods."
"The Olympians… far more reckless than we predicted, and far more true to their divine nature," the Council's Sun God sneered.
Gods stood above mankind.
No human law or morality could restrain them.
Even Artemis, who at first glance looked like some lovestruck maiden, had once casually unleashed a divine boar that devastated the kingdom of Calydon.
Hercules' Twelve Labors? Nothing more than the result of Hera's curse.
The legendary voyage of the Argo? A stage play written by the gods themselves.
Heroes were nothing but toys in the hands of gods.
Played with however the gods pleased.
"Exactly. That is the true nature of gods," replied the Sea God without hesitation. "We've been far too concerned with how mortals see us."
To the divine, all of humanity was merely a game.
Even Nameless, savior of the gods, was no more than a rare treasure to be fought over.
Their so-called "civilization of freedom and democracy" was merely a mask—they had never hesitated to crush unruly nations beneath their heel.
And other so-called great powers? They still dared to defy them.
"With the awakening of Attila, the White Titan of Velber, the other Star Emissary—the fragment that fell upon the Moon—also begins to stir," said the Goddess of Wisdom. "Together, we will rule the world with ease."
Fourteen thousand years ago, the Star Emissary descended and destroyed the divine eras of Uruk, Greece, and Britain.
Even mighty Olympus had been forced to abandon their mechanical bodies and retreat into the role of "local" gods.
And when that White Titan, Attila, sought to wipe out humanity, a man wielding a holy sword appeared—fighting alongside the gods to defeat her. The Vanguard was defeated, and her legend would later be remembered as Attila the Hun.
Attila's body became a colossal corpse lying across Central Asia.
The Council of Gods had once launched a campaign to seize those remains.
But to their shock, a Spirit had been born from the corpse.
They'd been forced to retreat before rival powers noticed—but not before striking an alliance.
That Spirit carried human will, but also fragments of the colossus' power—enough to awaken the true body slumbering on the moon.
Yes, Attila's true body was on the moon.
Decades ago, they had gambled everything in the space race with Soviet to reach it.
The world thought they went for prestige—but in truth, they sought the giant's body.
Ordinary Heroic Spirits could not reach the moon.
But through technology, the United States had succeeded—cementing themselves as the planet's supreme hegemon.
American technology was unmatched. The Empire could never hope to catch up.
The God-King chairman snorted, eyes fixed on the next preview.
"The next feature focuses on the First Emperor. A man chained to Earth poses no real threat."
For over a century they had been slowly repairing their divine machinery.
After all, the Olympians' true forms were colossal warships—more than capable of interstellar travel.
"The Noah's Ark Project nears completion. With it, we can summon Noah—the true Grand Rider," continued the Goddess of Wisdom.
Grand Servants—their power was such that they could defeat even the Beasts of Humanity.
Assassin was King Hassan.
Caster was Solomon, blessed by God himself.
The other five remained unknown.
But Grand Rider, according to their research, should be—
He who rides the primordial beast of calamity, bearing the Ark that saves mankind.
Once the Ark was forged, they could summon Grand Rider Noah.
And with him, they would crush the likes of the First Emperor, the King of Heroes, King Arthur—all the greatest spirits of history.
Then, using Grand Rider's power, they would subjugate even Attila.
Claiming dominion over the entire planet.
The God-King chairman's gaze swept the chamber.
"We must accelerate our plans."
If even Tiamat could descend into the world—then surely the Olympians could as well.
But this group was nothing to be feared.
The Council of Gods had already fully studied and dismantled the concept of Machine Gods, and now they were gradually gaining strength on par with true chief deities.
Most importantly, the Greek gods were bound to the territory of Greece, unable to freely strike beyond their domain.
The council, however, was different—when needed, they could even launch attacks from space.
How could a bunch of earthbound natives, stuck on this primitive planet, possibly contend with them, who commanded overwhelming cosmic technology?
If Tiamat were ever to rise again, they still held the ultimate trump card to fall back on.
Everything was airtight.
The Speaker, the God-King, said flatly:
"Then let us begin preparations. Call the vote for the Final War."
Since all was ready, victory would depend on speed. Strike straight at the heart.
Shff! Shff! Shff!
Hands shot up one by one, beams of light illuminating each seat in approval.
The resolution for war passed instantly!
The colossal war machine of the United States finally bared its fangs, ready to unleash its decisive strike.
This time—
They would defeat the First Emperorand the crippled Nameless.
They would become the true rulers of the planet, bask in the worship of all humankind as gods incarnate.
Like Cronus, they would seize full dominion over human history.
And with that fuel, transcend even the limits of divinity—breaking free of Earth, to roam the stars and seas!
====
Within Epang Palace.
Heroic spirits were all staring in shock at the preview of the next video.
Komei was the first to bow and laugh:
"Congratulations, Your Majesty! Your moment in the spotlight is finally upon us!"
Not long ago, the King of Heroes had shone brilliantly in a singularity.
Naturally, their own Emperor could only surpass him.
As for turning into something like Artoria did—a god, looking down on all humanity?
Impossible.
After all, it was the First Emperor who, together with Nameless, severed humanity's bonds with the gods so that mankind would forever rule.
That much was identical to the King of Heroes.
How could the First Emperor, who despised gods to the extreme, ever enslave mankind as one himself?
So, this was already secure.
Komei only wondered—once the video was revealed, would their Emperor gain an immense power boost to counter the looming threat of the Council of Gods?
The only pity was this:
East's threat had been otherworldly outer gods, while the West's downfall came from those science-fiction-like Alien Star Vanguards who ended their Age of Gods.
Because of this difference, even when Asia's singularity appeared, it couldn't lead to a technological revolution.
A huge loss!
If technology could leap ahead, they could easily replicate and mass-produce the mighty mechs they had salvaged, turning them into worthless, outdated junk.
By then, assembling a mighty Gundam legion—would they still need to fear the Council of Gods?
Shikotei burst out in booming laughter:
"Hahaha! Just wait for my performance!"
Back when the "Absolute Demonic Front" video aired, Gilgamesh had been unbearably arrogant.
So arrogant Shikotei had wanted to beat him up.
Wasn't it just one flashy performance? What was so impressive about that?
"Watch closely. My performance will utterly crush yours!"
Shikotei's smile was radiant:
"When the video airs, it must be broadcast across my Empire! And I shall invite the King of Heroes and his ilks to watch it together."
"Uh… a public screening?"
Chin Kyu blinked, the scene oddly familiar.
The last time there had been a public broadcast—"The Eternal Emperor"—all of the Emperor's embarrassing moments had been laid bare for the world.
The awe-inspiring First Emperor, rubbing his head meekly against Nameless's hand like a cat—the gap in image had shocked the masses.
"Relax. I am the Eternal Emperor—how could I ever be corrupted and blackened by some mere Holy Lance?" Shikotei laughed, already seeing through Chin Kyu's worries.
Please—he was the one who destroyed the Six Kingdoms and unified the world. How could he be swayed by a weapon?
Only that British girl, Artoria, would fall so pathetically!
"Indeed. Most likely the video will show Your Majesty's battle against the Demon King's schemes," Komei mused.
"Perhaps even reveal the true enemy—those alien outer gods!"
Originally, east pantheons had been normal enough.
But after the Alien Star Vanguard annihilated the Western Age of Gods, they were besieged by eldritch horrors from beyond.
One after another, gods were corrupted into monstrous abominations.
That was why the First Emperor and Nameless had cut the human-divine bond at such cost: to block out those horrors.
"We'll know soon enough," said Shikotei.
For now, he was more curious about this current body—neither male nor female—and the Epang Palace Noble Phantasm under his command.
Its true limits had yet to be revealed.
And if he had already destroyed the Six Kingdoms so easily, why then had he needed to build the Great Wall?
Yet those memories were lost to him.
All he recalled was dying on his Eastern Tour in 210 BCE, exactly as history recorded.
But no matter.
Once Alaya released the video, everything would be laid bare.
"Shall I invite Teacher to watch it with me as well?"
Shikotei grew even more excited.
After all, every video Alaya released told of his Teacher's deeds across timelines.
Which meant this time too, they would fight side by side again.
Sanjiro existed in two main forms:
Nameless, walking human history to guard the earliest spirits.
And Gudao, the Chaldea Master repairing singularities.
This man had once protected the young him. Now Shikotei was strong enough to protect him in turn!
"Achoo!"
Sanjiro sneezed.
Someone must be plotting against him again!
The side story had just wrapped, and the next preview was already about Shikotei.
Sanjiro felt a wave of gloom.
Once that aired, wouldn't Shikotei come looking for trouble with him?
Worse—he could run, but he couldn't hide.
Even if he fled Earth, there was no escaping.
So why hadn't the Council of Gods made a move yet?
Sanjiro frowned.
Those self-proclaimed heirs of the gods—when the true ruler had arrived, how could they not at least make some excuse?
Were they really trying to pass off their fake as the real thing?
"Hm… maybe they really are. After all, the Greek gods can't fight freely in the mortal world."
Sanjiro sank into thought.
Gods were suppressed by the world itself and couldn't descend at will.
Even Ishtar and Ereshkigal only appeared by piggybacking on Rin's body, and could be banished by Rin at any time.
But the Machine Gods—called "deities," but actually just advanced mechs—faced no such suppression.
Which meant they could unleash god-level might freely.
A total bug in the system.
"Tch… Root's Designer, do you see this? Why haven't you nerfed them yet?"
That was why the Council of Gods could run rampant across the world, striking at whichever nation they pleased.
Only if every top-class Heroic Spirit joined forces could they possibly be erased.
But that was impossible.
Getting the whole world to unite was harder than destroying it.
Ding!
Sanjiro's phone suddenly chimed with a familiar alert.
Expressionless, he pulled it out—and sure enough, the familiar little girl appeared.
Sitting on a swing, with an angelic smile:
"So, I need you to fight them."
No need to ask: this cunning little loli was none other than Alaya.
"Heh. In the end, you just want me to work for you again, don't you?" Sanjiro rolled his eyes.
Hadn't she promised him a peaceful retirement? Yet here he was, still being dragged into battles.
"No, no. You're the boss now—I'm just your secretary!"
Alaya waved her little hand, smiling sweet as sugar.
"Pft. Two-faced devil," Sanjiro muttered, rolling his eyes again.
Her tricks never ended.
Sure, he could refuse to fight—but then the Earth itself would be doomed.
So much for retirement.
Fine. Worker's spirit, worker's soul—workers are kings of the world.
He was still too weak.
If only he had the strength to swat aside giant spiders and alien vanguards with ease—then he wouldn't have to live so cautiously.
Sanjiro narrowed his eyes.
"So what do you want this time?"
"Just a notice," Alaya said with her dazzling smile.
"Athena wants to speak with you."
Her beauty was so radiant it made words meaningless—a smile that stole your breath, your gaze, even your will to live.
Even dying, one could not look away.
Sanjiro grew wary.
"What does she want with me?"
That goddess had been watching him nonstop back in the singularity—frightening to the extreme.
Could it be she wanted… his body?
"She wants to help you gather the blessings of the gods once more," Alaya replied sweetly. "So you'll be ready for what comes."
Sanjiro nodded slowly.
"Fine. Then do it the same way as with Shikotei—long-distance contact."
Though his face grew suspicious—
Tch. This scheming little loli was getting suspiciously agreeable.
Was she really trying to be his secretary now?