The final showdown began.
Master and disciple—at last, their paths had brought them to a battle of life and death.
On Shikotei's androgynously beautiful face, a faint regret appeared.
"Teacher, so you really remain stubborn after all. I alone am the True Man who transcends all things. Even the gods themselves are fit only to be trampled beneath my feet!"
Eternal, undying—the ultimate form of human existence. What right did mere gods have to stand alongside him?
"But in my eyes, that makes you no different from the gods you despise—lofty, tyrannical, bent on ruling over the fate of all mankind!"
Nameless raised his sword, pointing it straight at him.
All his attempts at persuasion had burned away.
Only anger remained.
The only way to wake the First Emperor from his arrogance as "the True Man" was to defeat him completely—to crush that pride beneath his blade.
"Gods? If becoming a god is what it takes to build an eternal, peaceful empire then let me be a god without hesitation!"
The First Emperor gazed back with a trace of pity.
"Compared to that, you are the one I pity, Nameless—forever fighting, never able to enjoy peace or the ordinary happiness of life. How wretched you are! You've become the greatest calamity, the root of disaster itself! I will never allow you to endanger my empire!"
To him, his holy and eternal empire was everything.
That resolve had been forged since childhood, when he lived as a hostage. Since the days when his teacher had first guided him. Across 2,603 years, that conviction had been tempered into something immovable.
Not even his teacher would be allowed to destroy it.
"Come, then! After 2,600 years, show me everything you have—your strength, your wisdom—turn them all into the assassin's blade you once raised against me!"
A sword manifested in his hand.
One side of the blade bore the carving of mountains and rivers.
The other, the faces of common people.
It was the sword born of the very lesson Nameless had once given him.
Nameless had spoken then of three swords: the Emperor's sword, the Warlord's sword, and the Hero's sword.
Nameless himself had chosen the Hero's sword—walking the world as a hero of justice.
But Shikotei had chosen the Emperor's sword.
Forging the whole realm into a blade, with the mountains and rivers as the body, and the people themselves as the edge—
Thus was born the sword that asked the Heavens on behalf of mankind—
The Heaven-Questioning Sword.
With this blade, even the divine would be slain!
The First Emperor leveled it toward Nameless.
"Teacher, I have you to thank for this lesson. Now you shall taste the full force of that teaching yourself!"
Behind him appeared a radiant dragon, magnificent and overwhelming.
An infinite force descended—woven from the will and lives of an entire empire.
Yes. This was the Dragon of Huma Order.
Shikotei had become the very Alaya of his Lostbelt—wielding the collective will of the people alone.
He was mankind.
He was Alaya.
In his eyes, only he was truly "human." All others were livestock under his control.
"I once taught you to uplift the people, to stand against the gods. Yet here you are, making yourself into a god. How laughable." Nameless sighed softly.
Words had no meaning anymore.
In his hand, a blank card appeared.
"Then lend me your strength… all the versions of me across every timeline. Answer my call, and help me end this Lostbelt that is doomed to vanish!"
At once, the card shone with blinding light.
One by one, shadows appeared—his other selves from countless timelines, answering the call.
But then—
A sudden upheaval!
The First Emperor unleashed the full, terrifying power of the Dragon of Human Order, drawing upon the might of the Heaven-Questioning Sword.
"I am the Son of Heaven. I am Lord of this world. I am the Eternal Emperor!"
His eyes went cold as ice.
"By my decree—you are guilty! And the guilty must die!"
Mountains, rivers, the very order of the realm itself crushed down upon Nameless.
There was nowhere to run.
In this world, escape was impossible. Against the Lostbelt King, he would always be suppressed!
Even the Summon card, the ultimate trump that called forth his infinite selves across history—it was smothered, unable to answer under that overwhelming weight.
The ultimate hero of humanity, Nameless, was being crushed under the Emperor's hand!
…
Academy City.
Tamamo's ears drooped in sorrow.
"Nameless is going to lose. He couldn't even make it here to me…"
Once, Nameless had signed his contract with Alaya, walking the human history as a hero of justice.
But now, the First Emperor, embodying this Lostbelt's Alaya, wielded that same principle without restraint.
Under such suppression, Nameless couldn't unleash his full power.
There was no path to victory.
She had hoped he would defeat the Emperor and reach her, waiting at the roots of the sacred tree.
But it seemed that hope was gone.
He had no chance against the Lostbelt King.
"Indeed… the foundation of every Heroic Spirit is humanity's cry for salvation." Merry nodded.
She herself was not a Heroic Spirit.
But as a Grand Caster candidate, her understanding of these matters ran deeper than most.
The First Emperor of the Lostbelt might not equal Alaya of Proper Human History.
But with a self-willed consciousness, unbound and unchecked—he had become something terrifying.
The people worshipped him with madness, raising him to the level of a god.
He had become a divine being greater even than the Lion King—able to wield the power of all mankind.
"Too strong… the First Emperor is just too strong!" Tamamo-no-Mae shivered, her tail twitching nervously.
Watching him unleash his divine might, crushing Nameless beneath his power—it even made her rear ache in phantom pain.
After all, back then, the Emperor had forced her to cut off one of her tails and gift it to Nameless as a New Year's present.
Grinding her teeth, Tamamo spat,
"Hmph! Fight, then! Best if you both kill each other!"
Heh. So even the great teacher and disciple end up like this? Such "harmony." Truly touching—enough to make her laugh out loud.
"Quite a shame, really. I was hoping to see what you'd be like at full power, tails complete." Merry chuckled, always the spectator fanning the flames.
For when Tamamo's nine tails were whole, she would wield the power of the sun itself, becoming the Beast IV, one of the very Beasts of Humanity—her strength enough to suffocate all who stood before her.
Even more terrifying than this Lostbelt King.
But alas, Nameless couldn't even make it to her.
And then—
Merry's eyes went wide, fixed on the screen. "What?! Alaya itself has descended—breaking apart the Emperor's suppression?!"
"This…"
Even Tamamo was stunned, unable to believe her eyes.
Nameless, crushed by the Emperor's human order, unable to summon his other selves across the timelines—yet now, suddenly, the connection burst open to countless worlds!
Only the true Alaya could achieve such a thing!
The two exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.
So it could be done like this?!
Talk about a surprise twist.
Talk about the mark of the ultimate Emiya fanboy.
And before all their astonished gazes—
Silhouettes began to appear, answering Nameless's call one after another.
In Britain, a nameless knight who shielded the perfect king, content to live and die unremembered.
In France, a crimson phantom who fought to protect a saintly maiden, carving a path through the battlefield to save her nation.
In Uruk, the dearest friend who once stood at the Hero King's side against the gods of Mesopotamia.
…
The Summon card blazed brilliantly.
Countless figures—each one another self of his from across human history—chose to respond.
He didn't need to summon other Heroic Spirits.
Because he himself was the strongest Heroic Spirit!
And in that instant—
All those selves, all those paths, converged upon him.
He was one, and he was many.
Alone, and yet never fighting alone.
The First Emperor's gaze remained cold.
"Oh? Summoning the fragments of yourself from other timelines… and what of it? Before me, all of it is meaningless. Even if you are favored by Proper Human History's Alaya, you cannot stand against me—the sole, transcendent True Man."
He was the Lostbelt King, sovereign of all under the sky.
The entire world was already his empire.
Wherever the sun shone, it was his domain.
Wherever rivers flowed, it was his.
His eyes turned icier still.
"Struggle as you like, Nameless. Show me the full extent of this so-called 'hope of Proper Human History'!"
For if Alaya had chosen to favor him, then Nameless was the hope of Human History.
And he—the Emperor—was the will of Qin's present and future.
Just as men contest against one another, so too do the histories of mankind.
Only one Human Order could survive.
"If you cannot even defeat me, then your Human History has no reason to exist!"
The Heaven-Questioning Sword shone with terrible radiance.
"Now—prepare to meet death! In my name… All Books Must Be Burned!"
Woom—
A tidal wave of mana surged forth, pressing down upon Nameless with crushing weight.
Under such might, his magical circuits were being forcibly choked off.
This was the foundation of his everlasting peace—stripping the people of their individuality, reducing them to ignorant subjects, so that the empire might reign for all time!
Thus was born the Noble Phantasm:
[All Books Must Be Burned!]
Splurt—
Nameless coughed a mouthful of blood, his circuits on the verge of exploding. He couldn't withstand it head-on!
"In my name… All Scholars Must Be Buried!"
The Emperor unleashed another blast of overwhelming force.
Nameless's upright figure buckled as though a mountain had been dropped upon his shoulders, driving him nearly to his knees.
Rumble—!
The earth split open beneath him, revealing a yawning pit.
Shapes writhed within, countless wailing spirits clawing upward, as though it opened straight into hell itself.
[All Scholars Must Be Buried!]
The pit—symbol of live burial, one of the most efficient methods of slaughter in the Warring States.
When General Bai Qi ordered 400,000 Zhao soldiers buried alive, the horror of Qin's iron hand was etched into history.
And later, after unification, the First Emperor himself would turn that same ruthlessness inward: burning books, burying scholars, cutting the very thread of knowledge to erase every seed of dissent.
And now, it manifested as a dreadful ability.
The massive pit swallowed Nameless whole, sealing him within.
Once buried, there was no escape.
Only eternal entombment.
"Teacher, you truly are too weak."
The First Emperor looked down at the devoured Nameless with pity.
"So this is the so-called hope of Human History? Pathetic."
Too weak.
All resistance was laughably feeble.
Proper Human History had no future.
The watching audience erupted in disbelief—
GigglesThenShit-[So then… how do you even fight against this?!]
ProfoundCultivator-[No wonder the First Emperor wanted to invade the other Lostbelts—his strength is overwhelming!]
HistorianWithWifi-[But survival of the fittest—if Human History is to endure, he must be defeated!]
MoonlitGachaVictim-[Nameless, get up! You can't lose! Behind you lies the light of humanity, the hope of countless lives!]
AlayaRiggedThisShit-[Nameless, fight! Alaya already rigged you to this extent, you can't lose!]
…
None had imagined the First Emperor could be this strong.
Stronger than the gods.
Beyond the gods.
Even Nameless, humanity's mightiest ally, was helpless beneath his crushing might.
No hope of victory could be seen.
And then—
The pit split apart with a thunderous crack.
From within burst a blazing golden sword, flames roaring along its edge, driving straight toward the Lostbelt King!
"What?!"
For once, the Emperor's composure wavered.
He had never imagined that even under his overwhelming rule, his opponent would still rise.
No matter.
He pointed at the shining blade.
"A feeble strike like that—did you truly think it could harm me?"
Teacher, how naïve.
To think you could resist me.
Mana surged, forming a series of golden barriers.
This was his imitation of his teacher's often-used Seven Rings that Cover the Burning Heavens—transformed into his own…
Dragon's Aegis!
Nine layers of shields, each one strong enough to repel any assault.
But then—
Crack! Crack!
One by one, the barriers shattered under the sword's radiance, unable to withstand its fury!
As the last layer crumbled, the Emperor snarled,
"In my name—STOP!"
Boom!
The golden sword slammed into his chest—yet went no further.
For now came his truest, most invincible defense—
[The First Emperor!]
Manifested as the very embodiment of centralized rule,the First Emperor radiated a binding force so overwhelming it felt like a curse itself.
A true Anti-World Noble Phantasm.
Within Qin's domain, no strike could ever touch him.All enemies would be weakened, while he himself stood clad in absolute defense.
Rumble—!
The [All Scholars Must Be Buried] collapsed completely.
From the rubble, Nameless sprang upward, his body smeared with blood, his eyes burning like twin flames.
"Your attack is over. Now… it's my turn!"
The First Emperor laughed. "Teacher, stop resisting. Stop thinking. Accept eternal peace, like the rest—does that not sound good to you?"
"…Heh. So you really are a wayward disciple after all."
Nameless's eyes were like ice.
Peace? What Shikotei called "peace" was nothing but the caging of humanity like livestock. Such a thing could never be accepted.
"Teacher, you know what it means to follow Alaya—endless battles, endless sacrifice! Only I can grant you everlasting peace. Only I care enough to spare you that fate!"
His crimson eyes gleamed with madness.
"I'm sorry, Teacher. I don't want to hurt you… but I care too much. So please—die for me! If you die, I will give you a new body equal to this one. Then, forevermore, you'll stay by my side in eternal peace!"
In those eyes leapt a fire that allowed no refusal.
He would force Nameless to remain, to become his possession.
The audience erupted:
MonaLigmaBalls-[Holy crap, the First Emperor has gone full yandere mode!]
HairyBalls-[That body has no gender—so yeah, he could really keep Nameless forever!]
GoatedBalls-[He wants to kill Nameless, then resurrect him just to bind him to himself—that's terrifying!]
YoMamaBeenSlobbin-[This is basically yandere First Emperor's love confession!]
MoonlitGachaVictim-[Too scary… I can't imagine what the real First Emperor would think, being exposed like this.]
…
Kirina's jaw dropped. She pointed at the screen, stammering:
"I knew the First Emperor was the rebellious disciple all along!"
Insanity.
The First Emperor… with yandere attributes.
Claiming "I care for you," while trying to kill you with his own hands—ripping your soul out and stuffing it into a cold, artificial shell.
Horrifying beyond words.
Such love was too twisted, too terrifying.
What had the First Emperor gone through to end up like this?
"..."
Illya and Miyu fell silent, eyes wide with disbelief.
At last, they understood.
Why, back then, when the Emperor had openly summoned Nameless, he refused to appear.
It wasn't unwillingness—
It was fear.
Who would dare face a being who could go on full yandere mode at any moment, kill you, and then forcefully revive you just to keep you by his side?
"..."
Sanjiro too held his tongue.
Why had he never gone to Shikotei back then?
Because he knew—this Lostbelt King was too terrifying.
He feared that if Shikotei's memories resurfaced, he would again try to kill him, forcing him into a mechanical body ascension.
And as a Grand Chef, abandoning the pleasures of flesh was unthinkable.
No machine, however powerful, could taste, could savor, could feel human joy.
Even fine food would be meaningless.
The thought alone was unbearable.
Kirina shook her head with a sigh.
"Man… I thought the First Emperor would shine brighter than the Hero King. Never thought it'd end up being one big black history exposé!"
Far above, the Council of Gods hovered in eleven warships across the void.
The Sun God councilor fired a single blow—shattering the Heavenly Court's defenses.
In such a moment of national peril, the First Emperor called all to watch the broadcast.
But no one expected that the Emperor's Lostbelt self would be revealed this way—so utterly terrifying.
Cutting off humanity's wisdom, caging the entire race, and now even trying to kill his own teacher, the one who had once guided and protected him.
One after another, the revelations piled up—a torrent of black marks that could only breed fear among his people.
Before the war against them even began, his empire risked collapse from within.
"How dangerous…"
Illya could only nod.
A ruler who treated lives so cheaply, so absolutely… it truly threatened to shake his people's spirit.
"Remember Aemerica's Seven Sins smear campaign…"
Miyu's voice was heavy.
That enemy thrived on lies, twisting truth into falsehood.
Even without evidence, they could invent The Seven Sins of the First Emperor to slander him at will.
Now, with this video? They would seize it to launch propaganda, turning the world against him. And once the world hated him, they would also hate the empire he ruled.
"Keep watching," Sanjiro said flatly.
If he was the one chosen to stand before Shikotei, then after watching this, he would be ready to face the United States.
He would not betray the land he grew up.
The three girls, though their hearts were heavy, pressed on.
====
Facing the Emperor's madness, Nameless spoke quietly:
"You may be invincible under heaven—but what if the enemy comes from above it?"
"The enemy… from the heavens?" The Emperor blinked in surprise. "Then I'll show you… what it truly means to protect the people as a god."
Nameless raised his eyes to the sky, and prayed:
"I beg you—you who have watched over this land, who gave everything for its people—grant me your strength, and return freedom to all!"
Hum—!
The world itself seemed to tremble in answer.
From countless timelines, from ages past, the ancestors who had once sacrificed for their people responded to his call.
There was the sage who read the stars and the earth, who taught humankind the rhythm of the seasons and the hunt.
His artifact, the Eight Trigrams Map, shimmered into being, divining one last hope.
…
There was the herbalist who tasted every plant, who found both food and medicine in the wild.
His countless herbs surrounded Nameless, mending his battered body—in an instant, his wounds were gone.
…
There were the twin rulers who forged the first great tribes, laying the roots of culture and unity.
From their hands appeared the golden sword—the Yellow Emperor Sword.
…
There was the hero who split mountains, tamed rivers, and ended floods for the sake of his people.
The Nine Cauldrons appeared, etched with all living things, the mark of a nation. Beside it, the great Stabilizing Needle that once held back raging waters descended as well.
…
One after another, the ancestral gods answered the call.
They were its foundation.
They were its hope.
Though gods, they had always bled and struggled for humankind.
Now, their phantoms gathered around Nameless, bestowing upon him blessings of overwhelming might.
And in that moment—he once again stood, not with the gods of Greece, but with… the Ancestors of his own land.
Nameless gathered their strength and faced the Emperor.
"Let me, with the power of those who came before, teach you one last lesson. This… is what it means to protect."
…
In the real Palace, Komei watched in silence, his thoughts heavy.
When they first watched The Eternal Emperor, every citizen had been proud of their ancestors.
And now…
The ancestral gods had never needed Nameless to undergo trials.
Whenever danger arose, he had only to call—and they would answer.
Once, Nameless had called upon the ancestors to aid him and the First Emperor in severing the link between men and gods, cutting off the descent of those corrupted, outer gods into the human world.
And now—he summoned them once again.
But this time, their target was the First Emperor himself.
The pride of that past victory now turned to bitter resignation.
The grand hall fell silent, so quiet a pin could be heard. No one dared speak—because the First Emperor still sat upon his throne.
The awkwardness was so suffocating that the gathered Heroic Spirits could have clawed entire mansions from the stone with their toes.
No—forget a house. They could have dug out the whole Palace.
On the screen—
The Lostbelt's First Emperor sneered.
"Nameless. You claim to despise the gods, yet here you are, relying on their power. Admit it—you can do nothing on your own."
"No," Nameless shot back. "These are the ancestors gods. They protect us—but grant freedom. Unlike you, their shelter is not a cage."
"Ha! I am the equal of the Three Sovereigns, the rival of the Five Emperors—how could I fall short of such pale shades?" the First Emperor scoffed.
He had never held the Three Sovereigns or Five Emperors in esteem. To him, there was only one eternal ruler—himself.
"How arrogant you are," Nameless said coldly. "Then step into my world."
At his feet, countless runes flared to life.
They erupted into flame, swallowing both men whole—
Unlimited Blade Works.
Within this Reality Marble, weapons once blessed by gods floated and turned, countless in number.
Before Nameless now stood a colossal forge, silent and waiting.
He hurled every weapon into the waiting forge—steel, gold, relics of gods, trophies of war.
The chamber shook with the clang of sacrifice.
"My body is the furnace. My purpose—the forge. I will consume every blade… and from their ashes, give birth to the sword that slays a god!"
His hands gripped the bellows.
With one pull, the forge erupted.
Flames howled like dragons, molten light bursting skyward.
The air split with the roar of creation itself—a furnace vast enough to reforge destiny.
The blessings of the ancestral gods melted together as the strongest of materials, fused into one.
A weapon beyond all limits was about to be born.
"What? You mean to melt divine artifacts into a single blade?" the First Emperor's eyes narrowed.
A mere mortal attempting to refine divine treasures into something greater—it was a miracle beyond imagination.
Even his calculations could not predict how such a thing was possible.
"Pointless," the Emperor scoffed. "I am truly invincible. You cannot harm me."
For he possessed his supreme Noble Phantasm—
[The Domination Beginning: The First Emperor].
In this Lostbelt, none could kill him.
No one.
"Then watch carefully—watch how I defeat you!"
Nameless swung his hammer down.
The weapons fused completely.
From the forge emerged a blade like no other.
The Emperor's expression faltered. "That sword… what is it capable of?"
Why—why did even he feel a surge of mortal dread?
"It's simple," Nameless answered. "This is a sword made to teach you your limits."
The blessings of the ancestral gods had bestowed it with a terrifying power—
[Anti-Divine, EX].
A blade born solely to strike down the Lostbelt's First Emperor.
On his own, Nameless could never have forged such a weapon. But with the ancestral gods at his back—he had.
"Useless," the Emperor said with scorn.
He swept his arm, summoning a mountain with raw mana, a Noble Phantasm of annihilation.
Boom!
The mountain fell, vast enough to crush a city.
Nameless raised the newly forged sword—and with a single stroke, cleaved the mountain apart.
The so-called weapon of suppression shattered to dust.
"What—?"
Even the First Emperor could not hide his surprise.
A mere mortal had forced him to feel it again—the crisis, the fear of being besieged, the thrill of standing on the edge of survival.
For the first time in ages—he felt alive.
"How exhilarating… you truly never cease to surprise me."
"You're sick beyond saving," Nameless snapped.
His eyes turned pale, bleached of all color. The world before him split into lines and dots—the death of all things revealed.
Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.
Every being's end is woven into its birth.
And with these eyes, he could cut it down—even the death of a god.
"What I sought… was not a sword for flesh and blood. It is judgment—upon resentment, upon evil!To sever karma! To sever fate! To sever destiny itself!!"
Nameless gripped his blade.
His magic.
His life.
All of it ignited, burning to fuel this one strike.
The sword blazed with ancestral power, with the light of countless lives, with the strength born from unending battle.
Everything he was—all poured into the blade.
"With mortal flesh, I breach the gates of divinity. With a single life, I ignite eternity. I offer all that I am—soul, blade, and breath—to cast down a god!"
He swung down.
A golden pillar of light exploded from the sword, driving toward the Emperor's chest.
In that moment, Nameless became an assassin once more—reenacting the assassination of the Emperor.
Dong… dong…
A bell tolled.
The sound reverberated through the Reality Marble.
The evening bell had named its target.
No one could escape.
Mystic, unyielding power shook the world as the Reality Marble itself began to crumble.
The Emperor's defenses shattered like paper before the strike.
"Pointless! It's pointless!"
He invoked his greatest Noble Phantasm—
[The Domination Beginning: The First Emperor]!
Here he was truly invincible.
Even if all the gods banded together, they could not harm him.
And yet—
The sword tore through his "invincibility" as though through cloth, piercing from the root.
"Shikotei—this is how divine power should be wielded." Nameless's eyes were cold.
"Watch closely. I'll only teach you once."
With a final thrust—
The Nameless Sword drove straight through his chest.
The overwhelming aura of divinity collapsed like a punctured balloon, plummeting into nothing.
Before the stunned gaze of all—
The invincible Lostbelt King was struck through in a single, mortal blow.