In the 477th year of the Imperial Calendar, He evaporated from the world and completely disappeared from the sight of the gods.
Who could ever remember that the tyrant who would later make the galaxy tremble began as a drunken product of a certain Viscount?
An illegitimate son who doesn't even have the right to wear the family crest, a wild dog left to fend for himself in the slums.
He should have died in the cannon fodder of the third "offensive", and his value was only a pension of three copper coins.
But he survived and wrested military honors from the corpses by being more ruthless than a wolf.
He took charge of the feared Seventh Legion and became the youngest commander of the empire.
Everyone in the world said that he was extravagant and evil by killing his father and brother, and regarded him as a devil with no bottom line.
How could they know that this was just a belated reckoning for the family that regarded him as a stain.
Since the nobles thought he was humble, he paved the way to power with mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Since his family disowned him, he personally sent his father and brother to hell. The blood-stained ducal palace was not a sin, but the first step towards the altar of truth.
Long years pass by, the stars and rivers turn upside down, and the gods usher in dusk.
Endless creatures trembled and looked up at the stars, praising the indescribable supreme existence:
"The final judge of the sequence path, the absolute monarch who holds the thunder and the eternal freeze, the funeral singer of Ragnarok, the agent in charge of the storm and the abyss, the caster of the astral barrier, the God of Destruction who controls the thunder, the Lord of Eternity who controls the ice, the sacred and noble Emperor of Storms..."
Along the way, He crushed not only the nobles, but also the heavens.
Fortunately, the AI is too strong