The man lowered his hand slowly, and let the king of the Ruth clan fall like a clumsy oak stake. He observed the shock and cunning in the other's ice-blue eyes, and deliberately waited for half a second more until the furry creature jumped up and bared his teeth again.

Then the other half of the opponent's face slammed back into his fist. Predictable. He didn't even take time to think about the result, he grabbed the brute by the arm, threw the latter up and smashed it onto the banquet table, and smashed a pile of plates and saucers, and the knocked over barrel gurgled and rolled on the ground.

The roar of the warrior was mixed with the cry of the baby. The women stepped back, not forgetting to comfort the child in their arms. A pair of eyes were on this uninvited guest.

Frege and Keeley, Rieman Roos's most loyal brothers and men, leapt from their thrones. They didn't try to make any rants to intimidate. The beast sniffed the determination of the arrival, and knew that this was not an adversary to intimidate. But the beasts did not retreat either, their savage instincts did not allow cowardly thinking. One leaped down the stranger's throat, while the other leaned down and stuck its teeth out at the other's ankles.

Men see their loyalty, and it is appreciated by him. Having seen betrayals under all sorts of pretexts, whitewashed with all sorts of honors, the nobility of the barbarians showed him something that was still steadfast in this filthy universe. He grabbed King Ruth's majestic body like a meteor hammer and flicked the two wolves flying, causing them both to crash into the wall. The sound of the hard skull snapping made the warriors of the tribe tremble, and the wolf let out a painful wail, tried to get to his feet, and staggered to the ground.

Again and again, the man smashed the Barbarian King to the floor, leaving his blonde hair messy and tangled, and his face covered in his own blood. Riemann Ruth cursed uncleanly. But each time it was accompanied by half an angry curse, it was the muffled sound of his face bones hitting the ground. Every warrior who tried to come to the rescue was neatly knocked off the field, lying on the ground moaning.

Primal joy welled up in the man's heart. It wasn't because of the satisfaction with violence and killing—he had seen too much of it in the first place of his birth, and knew that it made no sense to smear his crown with blood. His happiness comes from contact and interaction with his own bloodline. Something he thought he had forgotten for a long time.

Bloodline - what a magic word. He separated them from his own flesh and traced the traces in the universe. He nurtured Horus's admiration for himself and opened up some secrets to the voyeuristic Alfaris. He guides, he deceives, and treats each as his own tool and property. He knew full well that he would not hesitate to weigh and sacrifice any of them, and would not defend himself.

But what made him regain this primitive pride? He thought as he smashed another table with Ruth.

Because you've always been that kind of person. He said to himself. Outside of the first priest, the first general, and the first king, beyond the executioner, the conspirator, the commander, the scholar, and Don Quixote, you are a father. No matter how these identities mix and even swallow each other, you can't deny any of them.

He threw the cub out one last time. Watch as the Barbarian King crawls up, blood and shards of internal organs slipping through his mouth, scarlet dripping from his nose into his messy beard. But Ruth didn't care, he just wiped two handfuls casually, and looked at the stranger who had lost three games and beat him up in anger with some kind of confused eyes.

There was no anger in his ice-blue eyes, but a beastly curiosity and confusion.

He's like himself. Strangers think. A soul hidden under a mask that is completely different from oneself, but the mask also seeps into the soul.

So he smiled, reached out and took off his hood, revealing his face. He heard the inhalation of the people around him, something he was used to but still didn't like.

Why do you want to fall on your knees because someone else is more beautiful or terrible? He didn't stop it, for it was indeed in his favor, and just quietly looked at the equally dumbfounded barbarian king.

"My son." The Lord of Humanity said, not loud, but reaching the ears of everyone, even every living being on Fenris, "I am the Lord of the Empire, the Lord of Humanity, the Unifier of Terra, and I have come to bring you home." ”

Riemann Ruth looked him up and down for a long time, until he almost thought he was going to come up and sniff a few times, when the hairy boy nodded and grinned.

"So they're right, my father is a god indeed, huh?"

He watched with a calm gaze, but Riemann met those golden eyes fearlessly. "It's not. No being [should] be called God. ”

"Whatever you say is what you say." Riemann laughed again, wiped his nosebleed violently, and shouted to the stunned people: "Clean up, bring new wine and meat, and remember the seafood I killed two days ago!" Let my father see if Fenris has any good wine! ”

People were busy in a hurry, and the atmosphere suddenly changed from nervous to jubilant. No one cares why the leader was beaten by his father - if anyone really asked, they would only be laughed at and scolded for beating the boy, you don't care so much. In the distance, the warriors whispered over the leader's father's appearance and priesthood, while the women whispered in the corner of the hall whether the chief's blood was a god son. The Lord of Humanity glanced at his son, who was wiping his face—from what he had just heard, Riemann had at least a dozen of his own children.

"How come I didn't know when you had so many wives?"

Riemann lifted a clean face and smacked his lips. "The girls like to brag so much, so I went with them. In fact, they all know, but if there is a cub that is mine, can you not see it? He smiled haughtily.

"I see."

Riemann shrugged, grabbed a steaming leg of lamb, and threw the other to the two wolves. Freilly and Keeley huddled awkwardly on the side of the throne, flatteringly sticking out their tongues as they made eye contact with the Emperor, before reserving themselves and began to nibble. "Did you do it on purpose?"

"Which one do you mean?"

"The girls' braggadocio can never come true." Rieman nibbled off his leg and touched Killy's head with his oily hands. "But it's normal. The old man said that the dragon goddess castrated her eldest son Horus with her own hands in order not to be deprived of her husband's power, and threw the severed limbs into the sea to become Kraken. He pointed to a pot of soup on the table. It's a little Kraken. ”

"Very interesting story." The emperor looked at the bowl of soup that had been specially served in front of him. The serving girl smiled shyly and rubbed her hands crampedly on her apron. "Yes."

"So...... I was born with a huge body and two hearts, and almost everyone would have the urge to kneel when they heard me speak. And I don't really care about all the desires that others covet, from this drop of fine wine, to the beautiful beauty, and the power to rule the life and death of others......" he took a sip of wine, and let a few drops slip onto his chin, "it was so bland and tasteless. If I really have a desire, it's to fulfill a mission that I was born with, but I don't know the content of. ”

Riemann turned his head, and that nonchalant look faded, and his ice-blue eyes reflected the golden of the emperor's eyes. "What kind of war is there in the upper realm that requires you to give birth to a monster like me? And what made you come to me now? ”