Impossible!
Merry and Tamamo-no-Mae both could hardly believe their eyes—it was as though God Himself had descended to earth.
That was the Orbital Great Wall! Something that should exist only within the Lostbelt—how could it possibly manifest in Proper Human History?
Unbelievable!
Tamamo rubbed her temples in frustration.
"So why is it that the First Emperor can summon the Lostbelt's Orbital Great Wall… but I can't even manifest the powers of Human Evil?"
The gap was absurd!
That man had just called forth into reality the Orbital Great Wall—a project that in the Lostbelt Empire had taken three hundred years to construct while ruling the globe.
Clearly, he also possessed the mechanical divine body of Epang Palace.
Perhaps even the Heroic Repository was within reach!
Heroic Spirits arise from history and myth, heroes and legends whose great deeds echo through time. They are crystallizations of human belief, records of possibility etched into the Throne.
The more widely celebrated, the more power they wield.
Take Shikotei—renowned as the Eternal Sovereign, a top-tier Heroic Spirit. Shikotei almost possessed power unrivaled among the current Heroic Spirit.
And now—if the Orbital Great Wall had descended, could the Hero Repository be far behind?
Tamamo-no-Mae felt an acidic envy gnaw at her.
Her own strength had grown little from the video exposure, even though she was the so-called Beast of Humanity, a greater threat than the Emperor himself in the Lostbelt.
Alaya—was this part of your design?
Merry hesitated, face twisting oddly.
"Perhaps it's because Nameless struck you with his Grand Archer's arrow and stripped away the Sun's power?"
The Seven Grand Servants exist as Alaya's trump card against the greatest Beasts.
That one shot from Nameless was enough to grievously wound a Beast of Humanity.
Even Tiamat still bore the scar left by King Hassan's Grand Assassin blade.
So this fox, forced back to her Seven-Tails form, likely remained under Alaya's suppression.
"Damn that Nameless," Tamamo snarled, grinding her teeth. "If I catch him, I won't let him off lightly!"
For her, a Beast of Humanity, to be suppressed in the Lostbelt was humiliation enough.
Her so-called ultimate authority, the [God of Weapons], had been reduced to nothing more than fodder for Nameless's growth.
Her torment became his enlightenment in forging stronger arms.
How was that even fair?!
Merry frowned.
"Just watch. Even with the Orbital Great Wall, defeating eleven main gods won't be easy."
This was Proper Human History. His strongest form existed only as a Lostbelt King.
At full strength, he would rival a chief god—or even a divine king.
But the Council of Gods included Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—the three brothers of equal standing.
Killing them would be no simple feat.
A battle shaking heaven and earth was about to begin!
The Council of Gods' declarations spread worldwide through the network—
[Nameless, you who have protected humanity—come forth! Accept our blessing and join us in judging the First Emperor!]
Sanjiro scowled.
"These bastards… nothing but snakes in human skin."
Earlier, their projections had descended, demanding that Shikotei hand him over.
If not for Tiamat's timely arrival, smashing one of their projections with a single slap, he would already have been finished.
And now?
They wanted him to surrender and help them put Shikotei on trial.
Hypocrites, through and through.
Did they think his memory lasted only seven seconds? That he'd already forgotten their threats and attacks?
"They really do believe themselves the gods of all," he muttered.
Athena, slightly surprised, smiled faintly.
"We do mean to honor you. After all, it was you who struck down Cronus and saved us gods."
In that singularity—
If not for him crushing Cronus, devourer of the Titan gods, Olympus would have been lost.
Sanjiro sighed softly.
"It seems I must take the field once more… and shatter them completely, to return true freedom to all."
These false gods had crossed the line into becoming true gods.
With power to oppress the entire world, only by gathering divine strength once again could he defeat them utterly.
"We Olympians will lend you our strength," Athena promised.
Those pretenders had stolen the gods' own power and dared to set themselves above humanity.
They would not be tolerated.
"Good." Sanjiro nodded firmly.
"Victory be with you," Athena intoned.
She pressed her finger to his brow, unleashing a surge of divine power, granting him her blessing once more.
Bathed in that light, Sanjiro transformed into his former aspect from the "Gods of Olympus" singularity—
A projection to stand against the Lighthouse pantheon.
For now, his true body lacked the strength to battle them alone. A projection would suffice to rattle them.
But just as he activated his avatar, an unexpected figure appeared before him—
Shikotei himself!
Sanjiro froze, caught between respect and awkwardness.
In Eternal Emperor, he had been the Emperor's teacher, receiving boundless respect.
But in the Lostbelt No. 3, he had been the adversary who forced Shikotei to abandon his eternal empire, to destroy it with his own hands.
Athena frowned, eyes narrowing.
"First Emperor—you've awakened the power of your Lostbelt?"
The man who appeared before them radiated a majesty that dwarfed even the gods.
He was like the axis of the world itself, a presence above all.
The aura of a Lostbelt King!
And the vessel he inhabited here—clearly has a Grand-class foundation.
But not one of the seven seats. This was… a Grand Ruler.
Shikotei's flawless, handsome features softened with a gentle smile.
"Teacher, I have watched the video, and recovered all my memories."
Sanjiro grimaced.
"My apologies… for forcing you to forsake your Eternal Empire."
Their former warmth, the camaraderie of master and student—surely it was gone now.
But the Emperor only shook his head lightly.
"Since I chose to let go, how could I ever resent you, Teacher?"
"You… aren't angry?" Sanjiro blinked.
"Not in the slightest. On the contrary—I must thank you. Thank you for showing me a humanity filled with infinite futures."
A flawless empire was nothing more than a dead end. Without a future, it could only collapse.
But the empire now was different.
Over a century ago, when he descended, he swore to defend it with his life. Clearly that vow was born of the Lostbelt's shadow—his desire to forge a place of peace.
But this time, a peace overflowing with boundless futures.
Shikotei stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I feared you might doubt, Teacher. So I came here to set your heart at ease."
Here stood his teacher, now appearing as a mere seventeen-year-old boy.
And he—an emperor who held the fate of an empire, of humanity's tomorrow.
Sanjiro breathed out slowly.
"Good. You haven't lost yourself—you still possess your humanity."
The Eternal Sovereign of the Lostbelt had been a true god, capable of ordering slaughter without hesitation.
He had fought with all his might to restore him, to make him human again.
"Yes, Teacher. Since the Empire is not yet perfect, then let us build that perfect empire together!"
Shikotei's smile only grew more tender.
"I recall now your final lesson. Thank you for awakening me. I ask that you continue to guide me."
Were it not for his teacher's battle, perhaps he would have dragged the Lostbelt down with Proper Human History, condemning humanity to extinction.
And there would have been no turning back.
"You have already surpassed me," Sanjiro said, his voice full of pride.
For a teacher, nothing was sweeter than seeing one's student rise higher—even higher than oneself.
Especially when that student, even as the mightiest emperor, never forgot gratitude.
How could one not be proud?
Shikotei turned his gaze upon the gods, face calm, voice cool as steel.
"This time, it is I who shall protect my teacher. Against those false gods—I alone will stand. You so-called deities may step aside."
"…"
Athena was struck speechless.
Did he even hear himself?
Arrogant, as ever—just as he had been in the Lostbelt.
He cared nothing for the Olympians.
Her expression shifted slightly, tinged with unease.
Could it be that he was afraid she might step in and steal Sanjiro away?
Athena answered calmly:
"Of course. If you are capable of defeating those false gods, then naturally we need not act."
"Hmph! You so-called gods, unable even to descend fully into the mortal world… Teacher once protected you, and yet you would now make him fight again? Pathetic!"
Shikotei did not even try to hide the scorn in his voice.
They called themselves humanity's guardians, yet they could not even defeat a handful of impostor deities. Instead, they still relied on Teacher to risk his life on their behalf.
He could not stomach the hypocrisy.
"You…"
Athena glared at him in anger, yet could not muster a single rebuttal.
It was true—the Olympian gods were suppressed by Alaya. Their true forms could not descend.
To defeat the false gods, they had no choice but to rely on Sanjiro's strength.
Shikotei's mockery struck the mark.
"Stand aside and watch! This time, I shall be the one to protect Teacher!" A flicker of unease crossed Shikotei's eyes as he asked softly:
"Teacher, without troubling you to act… may I be the one to resolve this matter?"
"Eh…"
Sanjiro froze for a moment, nearly bursting into laughter.
Was there really such fortune in this world?
After fighting for endless years, did anyone truly believe he wanted to keep fighting?
The chance to simply lie down and let someone else shoulder the battle—what bliss!
If he could remain like that forever, he would gladly be kept as nothing more than a spoiled shut-in.
The hardships he had endured teaching and protecting others were now repaid a hundredfold.
Yes, this was good. More than good.
Suppressing a smile, Sanjiro said with mock apology:
"Then I must trouble you, Tei."
If the boy could slay the false gods—and perhaps other terrors besides—then Sanjiro could finally be free to rest.
To work again? Impossible. Not in this life.
All he wanted was to drift and be at peace.
"Fighting in my teacher's stead—this is my duty as Emperor."
Shikotei lifted his gaze toward the divine council in the heavens.
"If you wish to threaten Teacher, then you will first have to trample over my corpse!"
"Mm…"
Sanjiro's feelings were suddenly complicated.
It had always been he who declared such words to others—who threw himself into danger again and again to protect.
But this time, someone was saying it to him.
Yes—he had once done the same.
And now Tei too had grown up… grown enough to shoulder the burden, to protect him.
Who would dare to touch him?
The corners of Sanjiro's lips curved faintly.
"Then, Tei, let those false gods make fools of themselves before the whole world!"
"All shall be as Teacher commands." Shikotei smiled.
Their discussion concluded.
At that moment, Sanjiro's projection appeared before the Council of Gods.
His image spread across the livestream, broadcast to every corner of the net.
Before the eyes of the entire world—Sanjiro stood atop Fuyuki's great bridge, gazing calmly into the camera.
"The false gods have descended to menace the human realm. I had no wish to contend for supremacy. But I know the suffering of my people. Therefore—I shall strike down the gods, and return eternal peace to this land!"
Those few words were enough to still the panic of millions.
They had seen the revelations of Alaya. They knew this man had wrought miracle after miracle.
Dragons, deities, the very embodiment of humanity's evil—again and again, he had overcome them.
The strongest guardian of mankind.
If he now appeared openly to oppose the Council of Gods, then clearly those gods were no true protectors of humanity.
For it was Nameless—always Nameless—who had sacrificed himself, again and again, to shield mankind.
In contrast, the Council of Gods did nothing but ravage the world for conquest. Few held any love for them.
The Sun God sneered coldly:
"Arrogant fool! To slander us, the true gods—you are beyond forgiveness!"
To crush the First Emperor into submission, they had deliberately chosen to broadcast their overwhelming might to all the world.
And now Nameless dared to call them impostors—how could such an insult be left unpunished?
The Goddess of Wisdom councilor whispered:
"A so-called guardian of humanity, yet you appear only as a projection… Are you truly Nameless, or merely a thief borrowing his name?"
Now wielding the power of a chief god, she could see it at once—the figure before them was but a projected shadow.
The man's Saint Graph was shattered; he dared not bring his true self lest they capture and suppress him.
That made things easier.
A mere bluff, propped up by bravado. They could twist truth to their own ends, brand him a thief.
In this world, truth belonged only to the reach of the cannon's barrel.
And they held the cannons.
The God-King councilor declared with infinite arrogance:
"God has spoken. You are guilty."
Zzzzt—!
Thunder roared.
In an instant the clear sky blackened with storm clouds.
Serpents of lightning writhed and coiled above, merging into a colossal thunder-dragon.
It was the God-King's own authority—wrath of the storm.
Lightning, etched into humanity's very bones as a primal terror, symbol of heaven's judgment.
"Oh? And yet you—a rabble of thieves, stealing the power of the Olympians—dare to call 'thief' at others?"
Sanjiro's voice was calm, but laced with scorn.
The masks had fallen; there was no need for courtesy.
Besides, this time he had someone behind him. He had no need to fight. Why should he be afraid?
He faced the false gods unflinching.
"You impostors know nothing of fear, nothing of what it means to be the backbone of this land."
"Hah! And your so-called Emperor—where is he? Too frightened to appear?"
The Sun God's voice was dripping with derision.
Moments ago, he had obliterated the Heavenly Court Defense System with a single shot, and the Emperor had not even dared to rebuke him.
So what if he had regained his memories of the Lostbelt? Did that mean he could suddenly reclaim the Space-Wall, the mechanical colossus, or the tomb of a Heroic Spirit Army?
Impossible. Delusion.
His mocking laughter spread across the entire nation through the livestream, igniting fury in every heart.
But fury alone was useless.
They were only mortals. Against machine-gods, they could do nothing but grit their teeth and endure.
…
As the world raged in impotence, Sanjiro's voice rang out:
"The enemy is the Council of Gods—a rabble of thieves who stole Olympus's authority, who now seek to invade us."
His finger lifted, pointing skyward.
"And now—the conditions are ripe. His true form is here, upon this very land. False gods, clowns in borrowed robes—raise your eyes! Behold the sky! There, your reaper waits!"
At his cry, the world looked upward.
From above Epang Palace, two vast wings of light unfurled, radiance pouring over heaven and earth, spreading even above the false gods themselves.
The Wings of Light… had opened.
The King of the Underworld councilor sneered:
"Death? You claim the title of death before me? Ridiculous! A mere Emperor—I shall grant him true death!"
As the machine-god of the underworld, he wielded death itself.
Once he spread his domain, the underworld would descend upon the world, and all lives would perish.
The Sun God laughed wildly:
"Nameless! You taunt us still, even at the brink of your demise?"
Their entire plan had been laid when the video ended—to strike suddenly, crush Nameless and the First Emperor, and seize dominion over mankind.
All within their grasp. No surprises could come.
For there could be no miracle—unless God Himself descended.
No, Sanjiro was only stalling, buying time for the Emperor to flee.
And then—
The Goddess of Wisdom looked up, her voice trembling:
"Oh… my god."
"What is it?"
The others raised their eyes in confusion—
And in that instant, every machine-god fell into stunned silence.
For there, suspended in orbit above the earth—
Was the Orbital Great Wall.
The livestream camera tilted upward.
With its hundredfold, thousandfold zoom, the lens magnified the sight until every detail of the colossal construct came into view.
Now, everyone could clearly see each silvery-white brick of the Great Wall, stretching endlessly into space, its rows of yawning cannon muzzles aimed squarely at the false gods.
It was so sharp, so real—like standing right there upon it.
The audience was thunderstruck.
…
The First Emperor's silence had not been weakness—it was him holding back, saving a trump card for a blow that would shake heaven and earth.
The First Emperor has come. With him comes peace for the empire.
The First Emperor has come. With him comes the end of the false gods.
Those so-called deities, frozen in shock, were now nothing but buffoons performing on a stage.
Clowns. Nothing but clowns.
====
—Inside Chaldea.
Da Vinci's eyes widened.
"The First Emperor has actually reclaimed the power of the Lostbelt King… those false gods are finished!"
It was not like the footage revealed by Alaya.
In reality, Chaldea was nothing more than a mediating body—it could not truly restrain the actions of Heroic Spirits.
Much less the Council of Gods, who had never regarded Chaldea as anything but air. They waged war time and again without ever seeking permission, scourges upon this world.
Dr. Roman frowned.
"But the Lostbelt never revealed the true power of the Great Wall's cannons. We don't know if it can actually stand against the gods."
Back then, the Emperor had only dropped a single fragment of the Wall, using it as a kinetic weapon against Nameless and the others.
The Wall's true main artillery had never been unleashed.
Because in the Lostbelt, the Emperor wasn't trying to obliterate Nameless—he was testing him, to see if a path toward the Infinite could be found.
Of course, he wouldn't reveal his full hand.
Mash's eyes widened.
"The Orbital Great Wall… it's being treated as a Noble Phantasm? He summoned the entire thing?!"
It was staggering.
She herself could manifest the walls of Camelot, a mighty defense—but the magical cost was enormous, prohibitive.
To summon something of this scale… how much mana would it even take?
Da Vinci nodded gravely. "Exactly. Just like the Palace, the Great Wall has become one of the Emperor's Noble Phantasms."
In the Lostbelt, the fully expanded Wall could encircle the entire planet—an overwhelming force beyond comprehension.
Because the Emperor's true enemy there had not been humans, but beings from beyond the stars—
—the Vanguards.
To fend off such civilization-killers, he had spent three centuries and incalculable resources forging the Space Great Wall.
Roman's voice tightened.
"So… just how powerful is it, really?"
For a Heroic Spirit to wield something like this as a Noble Phantasm—it was beyond precedent.
No other Heroic Spirit could do the same.
And yet… in some buried corner of his mind, Roman felt he too could wield a power like that.
Something even greater.
Not a wall, but a canopy that stretched across the whole sky.
His heart sank.
That power belonged not to him, but to another self—one who had burned all of human history as fuel.
If the First Emperor was already this overwhelming as a Lostbelt King… how much more terrible would the Demon King, be?
Kadoc Zemlupus' gaze locked on the screen. "Wait… the First Emperor is here!"
Ever since the footage of the Lostbelt surfaced, he had been hunting for Nameless.
And now, Nameless appeared in the broadcast as if by providence.
But the Emperor bore him no anger—instead, he sought to be Nameless's strongest protector, standing against the false gods in his defense.
To devour Nameless, Kadoc would first need to overcome the First Emperor himself.
And that would not be easy.
So—had he truly regained his full Lostbelt King might?
—All eyes fixed on the screen.
The Emperor appeared in his splendid robes, the vast Wall at his back like wings of steel, radiating a crushing majesty.
"Beyond the Three Sovereigns, above the Five Emperors. Such is I—the First Emperor!"
His voice rolled like thunder. "Irredeemable false gods. Since you dare provoke, then I shall grant you death!"
—Hum.
The Wall behind him shimmered, each cannon glowing with killing light.
A suffocating aura of annihilation swept out, covering all the Lighthouse gods.
The God-King councilor scowled. "A mortal emperor dares defy us? Then we shall purge this scourge from humanity!"
"Hahaha! A wall of mere mortals—did you truly think it could stand against gods?" the Sun God sneered.
Even if it took three centuries to build, it was still human-made.
While their bodies were divine, far above all things.
The Sun God did not hesitate. "If you dare provoke us, then I will shatter your wall myself!"
—Boom!
His warship-form's main cannon flared, unleashing a blinding lance of light straight into the heavens—striking the Space Great Wall head-on.
Shockwaves rippled. The audience gasped—he had attacked without hesitation, more reckless than the War God himself.
For the gods, only by crushing the Emperor and Nameless outright could their supremacy be secured.
But—
His face twisted in disbelief.
The same cannon that had annihilated the Empire's defenses… had failed to break the Wall.
Instead, the Wall's surface shimmered with golden scales, as though it had transformed into a dragon—standing unbroken against the blast.
Sanjiro roared with laughter.
"Ha! You're a fool!"
Had this been the Lostbelt Wall, that shot might have broken through.
But this was different—an ultimate evolution of the Space Great Wall, bolstered by the will of two billion people, by the Emperor's command over the Human Order Dragon.
Never forget: in the Lostbelt, he was a miniature Alaya, channeling the will of people.
Now, exposed to the world, the Emperor had restored that same power.
As the living dragon of his empire, he could draw upon the collective might of all his people.
How could he possibly fear a single god's cannon?
Sanjiro grinned wider.
He didn't even need to fight anymore—Shikotei would carry them all.
"Hmph. Let Tei blast you bastards to dust. I'll just sit back and relax."
The Sun God's voice shook. "Impossible!"
His cannon held a fragment of solar might, the greatest destructive power of their pantheon.
One shot could have erased Fuyuki outright.
And yet—it had been blocked.
Even a machine-god could feel his composure breaking.
Then Shikotei spoke, cold and unyielding:
"To strike without courtesy is rude indeed. Since you have fired—receive my return gift. Great Wall Orbital Cannons… FIRE!"
—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
One by one, the cannons ignited, lances of incandescent energy bursting forth.
The void itself lit up, as though a second sun had dawned.
Hundreds of beams converged upon the Sun God's battleship, enveloping it completely.
Its golden shield flared, struggling desperately to hold.
But it was futile.
The barrage shattered his defenses like paper.
The beams carved into the ship's hull, flooding it with annihilation.
The proud warship shrieked like a moth in flame, melting under the torrent of light.
Yes—melting.
Hundreds of meters of divine steel, unraveling, dissolving into radiant slag.
A brilliant blossom of fire erupted high above Fuyuki, painting the sky in glory.
The people gaped, speechless.
The god who had threatened them mere moments ago—was gone.
The Sun God had fallen.
A god… slain.
An act of godslaying happened before their eyes!