"So finally caught you, you rat."
Emperor Leo's voice cut through the smoke and dust that hung heavy over the battlefield like a burial shroud.
His golden armor was dented and bloodied, but his presence still commanded the same imperial authority that had conquered half the continent.
Behind him, five women stood in formation—his legendary heroines, each one a force that could level cities on her own, possessing mythical class abilities.
Viktor Redwood looked up from where he stood among the corpses of ten thousand soldiers. Both armies had been decimated.
The empire's forces, despite outnumbering his kingdom ten to one, lay scattered across the valley like broken dolls.
His own people weren't much better off—most of them buried under the very tunnels and trap systems they'd used to survive this long.
'So it's the end, huh?'
Viktor surveyed the carnage around him with tired eyes.
Not a speck of dirt on his rotund frame, though every fiber of his being felt like it had been through a meat grinder.
His body hadn't participated in the physical battle—that wasn't his role.
But his mind?
His mind had fought a war that should have ended in defeat days ago.
'So this is how far one's brain can take someone before reaching absolute despair.'
He chuckled, a dry sound that seemed inappropriate given the circumstances.
All those years as a gamer in his previous life, all those strategy games, all those late nights planning the perfect build or the ultimate combo—none of it had prepared him for this moment.
Standing face to face with the protagonists of this twisted world he'd been reborn into.
«The Rise of Emperor and His Five Heroines.»
That's what they called this story, wasn't it? A harem novel where the righteous emperor collected beautiful, powerful women while conquering evil kingdoms.
Except Viktor had been cast as the evil king, and evil kings always lost in the end.
Behind the emperor stood his collection: Seraphina the Saintess, whose healing powers had kept them alive through every trap and ambush. Marcus the Invincible, whose diamond-hard skin had turned aside countless blades and arrows. Lysa the Shadow, an assassin who could kill a man before he even knew she was there. Vera the Spymaster, who seemed to know every move before Viktor made it. And Cassandra the Oracle, whose visions of the future had guided them through every maze and pitfall.
The fifth one is kind of too embarrassed to show her face—a true heroine Viktor knew quite well.
Though it was a vague description for the exact abilities they possessed, but the conclusion was just this...
It was exhausting, really. Fighting against destiny itself.
"You know," Viktor said, wiping blood from a small cut on his cheek, "I'm not even in despair anymore. Just tired."
Tired of losing everyone he'd grown to care about in this world.
The original owner of this body had died when Viktor was eight or nine, leaving him with fragments of memories and emotional bonds he'd never asked for.
He'd tried to stay cold, detached—but human connections had a way of worming into your heart whether you wanted them or not.
That's why he was here.
That's why he'd fought so hard to save his people, his newly formed kingdom left behind by a dead father. And that's why he was about to lose everything.
"Master?"
Bella's voice was soft beside him. His last remaining guard, the only person left who still stood by his side.
Her hand rested on the pommel of her sword, silver hair gleaming despite the dirt and ash that covered everything else.
She was small, delicate-looking, but Viktor knew the truth about what she really was—with an ability that can learn enemy attack patterns live and form the strongest defense—how was she delicate?
Seraphina, the saintess, stepped forward first. Her white robes were torn and stained, but her voice carried that self-righteous tone that made Viktor want to punch something. "Do you even know how many people died because of you?!"
Viktor raised an eyebrow. "It was you who attacked my kingdom. I was just defending."
"You literally killed children!" Lysa snarled from the shadows, her daggers gleaming.
"You shouldn't have brought children to war to begin with," Viktor replied calmly. "You wanted to use them as meat shields. Just accept it."
Marcus stepped forward, his scarred face twisted with rage. "You're a tyrant! If you'd surrendered peacefully, none of this would have happened!"
"Surrendered how, exactly, you gay bastard?" Of course, it was too doubtful about what that punk was doing in the Emperor's harem.
"Leo just asked for that woman," Vera said, nodding toward Bella with calculating eyes.
Something cold settled in Viktor's chest. "You all know she's more valuable and closer to me than you whores will ever be."
"Master?" Bella looked at him in surprise.
He turned to meet her gaze, ignoring the sharp intakes of breath from the heroines. "Come on, you knew it, right? I like your ears."
Bella blinked, clearly shocked. "What?"
Viktor just shook his head and lifted one hand. "I accept defeat. You can execute me and all that." He looked at Bella, his voice gentle. "Bella, turn into your cat form and escape this place."
"What are you saying, Master?" Bella's voice was small, confused.
That's when Emperor Leo moved—the only person possessing two mythical class abilities in this world as per world design—one is related to speed and the other is about swordsmanship or something similar.
His sword came down like lightning, a blur of silver death aimed at Bella's neck.
She barely got her blade up in time to block, and the force of their collision sent shockwaves through the ground.
Cracks spider-webbed out from where they stood, the earth itself groaning under the pressure.
"You're not going anywhere," Leo growled, pressing his attack.
The other heroines moved to surround them, weapons drawn, magic crackling in the air.
"Accept defeat," Cassandra said, her prophetic eyes glowing faintly. "He might forgive you."
Viktor shook his head slowly. "You're all falling in my estimation more than you ever could. I guess there was a reason you're all about to suffer soon enough."
"You're delusional!" Seraphina shouted, her healing aura flaring with righteous anger.
"Completely insane," Lysa added with cold precision.
"Just give up already," Marcus rumbled, his voice like grinding stone.
"It doesn't have to end this way," Vera said softly, though her hand never left her weapon.
"The future shows only death if you continue," Cassandra warned, worry creeping into her usually confident tone.
Viktor looked at each of them in turn. Once, he'd known these people—just casual meetings in royal banquets and such.
Before the war, before the hatred, there had been a time when things might have been different if he had been able to pull some strings.
'Ah, shit, is there still something left, dude...' he felt absurd how there was some hope still within him to do things correctly this time when he understood one thing: that no matter how much bullshit one spouted about the brain being superior to strength, when cornered by absolute.
The brain could just be cooked, deep-fried.
"Listen," he said, his voice cutting through their protests. "I've already lost my kingdom, and I don't care about my life anymore. So let's do this—I surrender, and you let her go."
But Leo just pushed Bella back with a brutal swing of his sword. "She's going nowhere. Straight to my bed, actually."
The words hung in the air for exactly one second.
Then Viktor pulled the gun from his coat and put a bullet through the emperor's head.
Bang!
Yeah, that simple, actually—the brain does prove sometimes better when absolute strength confuses the holder into forgetting to gauge enemies' true potential.
The sound echoed across the battlefield like thunder. Everyone froze as Leo's body toppled backward, blood pooling beneath what had been the strongest man on the continent just moments before.
Viktor looked down at the smoking gun in his hand, watching as the barrel split and cracked from the explosion.
drip drip
The recoil had shattered his wrist, sending blood streaming down his arm—he just knew chemistry for gunpowder, metal barrel principles and all, but with no knowledge of how to implement them and resources to make the gun steady, he lost his one arm.
But he was too lazy to feel the pain, actually...
"Well," he said, looking up at the five heroines who were staring at him in complete shock. "I just have one arm left."
He let the broken weapon fall to the ground with a metallic clang while stretching his other hand for a handshake.
"So how about using it as a peaceful way to forget our enmity?"
The silence stretched on for what felt like eternity.
Then Seraphina screamed.
Yeah... kind of ear-drumming torture.
"AaaaaHhhhhh!"