Initial Note
Alright, this is going to take a while to explain, so let's just get started.
This story is sort of a sequel to The King of Kings, but it takes place many, many thousands of years after Naruto Uchiha —better known as the Great Emperor Qin— left the world behind. But that's already explained in the prologue, so I'm not going to go into too much detail here. The point is that this story isn't about him, but about his son: Rose Uchiha. And honestly, the prologue does a better job explaining things than I ever could.
Now then, this is tagged only as Naruto because, spiritually speaking, it's still very much a story within the Naruto universe. Rose is, so to speak, the equivalent of Boruto… except he's not a complete idiot or unbearably annoying. Rose is written differently—he doesn't need daddy issues to have a plot.
Anyway, remember that if you want to read the next ten chapters of this story, you can visit my , where I'll be updating the stories before posting them here. Thanks for the support…
except for the guy who copy-pastes the same comment on every chapter of every story. You're not even annoying anymore—just irritating
Patreon: https://patreon.com/u61456571?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink
Prologue: Prince of the First Kingdom
Rose would have never considered himself a bad person, much less a bad son. In fact, he would have found the very idea profoundly hypocritical, considering that even though his father had never been openly affectionate toward him while he was growing up—a reasonable fact, given the colossal task of ruling an empire—despite his inevitable flaws, he had always been a good father. In truth, his skill as a parent was surpassed only by his boundless virtues and his innate gift for leadership.
It was no coincidence that he had earned the epithet "King of All Kings."
Even so, at the end of the day, Rose was nothing more than a simple human. He had spent hundreds—possibly thousands—of years anchored to the same blue sky, living in a self-imposed exile ever since his father had abandoned the land of mortals and ascended to the celestial vault with his entire family, leaving the world to its fate. Why? He had realized something—a truth Rose still did not understand and, deep down, feared discovering. Especially because barely fifty years after his father and the others departed, the world… had simply plunged into the abyss in ways the most twisted imagination could never conceive.
Rose refused to dwell on the endless list of horrors he witnessed each time he dared to look down at the earthly kingdom. But with every bloody conflict, every new era, every tyrant on the rise, every event that marked the world below, his soul longed even more for that golden age—for the time under his father's rule. Back then, the entire world had breathed peace and prosperity. No one had to fear a neighbor sneaking in to stab them in the heart while they slept.
He had tried to speak with his father countless times, begging him to return to the earth, to reclaim the throne and guide the realm once more. But regardless of how many arguments he presented, how many tears he shed, or how desperately he pleaded, he never managed to convince the man—once the greatest among the great—to descend from his retreat and resume his reign.
His father always offered reasons, of course, though Rose could not understand a single one of them. To the eyes of the young man who had once been a child and whose life had known only peace and prosperity, it was incomprehensible how his father, who claimed to love the people he had once ruled, could now allow them to suffer so terribly. He could not understand how he tolerated the rise of kings turned tyrants, nor the enslavement of people simply for being different.
"You look depressed, kid," said the voice of one of the few friends his father still kept—and who always appeared the moment he sensed emotional misery. For what purpose? Rose wasn't sure, but he did know that among all those his father had once called friends, this one was by far the most dangerous. His very presence was an omen that unsettled Rose deeply.
"I tried… talking to Dad again, Uncle Lu," Rose said, dropping heavily onto the couch and feeling the cushions give beneath his weight. He had truly hoped this time would be different. After all, he had shown his father what had happened in the Fifth Era, and how that red-haired boy, trying to emulate him, had thrown everything into the deepest and purest anarchy—so much so that the cosmic reset had to be triggered several centuries early, plunging reality into premature chaos.
"Heh, that's never going to work, kid… and honestly, it's better that way. Your father is much happier like this and, well, I don't ever want to lose my friend again… once was enough," Lucifer declared as he sat beside the firstborn of his best friend. It was true that, like Rose, he missed the old days—those times when he and his friends had fought through a thousand epic battles, feeling the adrenaline of camaraderie and danger. But over time, those days had faded and, well… the saying "hard times create strong men, and good times create weak men" existed for a reason. Qin himself had witnessed firsthand what had made his kingdom so prosperous and perfect, and Lucifer could not blame him for abandoning it—for letting the people grow strong again and recover the spark they had lost during the last centuries of his rule, when they had been free to live their lives, when progress came effortlessly, when people had lost the drive to surpass their ancestors.
Neither of them spoke again for a long while. A thick silence settled over the room, though Lucifer seemed entirely comfortable with it, surrounded by the calm that always characterized him. Rose, on the other hand, felt completely adrift, mind blank, with no idea what to say or how to approach whatever he was supposed to discuss with him.
"Uncle," he finally called softly, breaking the silence. He had decided that the opinion of his father's last surviving friend was preferable to having none at all—despite the fact that all his mothers and siblings insisted Lucifer had always been, and still was, the most infuriatingly foolish member of his father's circle of friends.
"Yes?" asked the King of Demons, his voice gentle and serene, like a calm mountain stream.
"Do you think… I could do what my father did? Could I bring them peace?" Rose asked, sounding for the first time in a long while like the child he once was. A hint of vulnerability colored his voice. After all, deep in his mind, if his father refused to return, then it was his inescapable duty to guide the people below back into the golden age of prosperity they now knew only through legend.
Lucifer remained silent for a moment, fully aware that Rose's intentions were genuinely good. The boy, he thought, had never truly grown up; he had been born and raised during the height of the empire's splendor and stability. He was undeniably intelligent, a trait evident in his deep knowledge of engineering and other complex disciplines. He possessed physical strength comparable to that of his father in his youth. However, he lacked the hardened heart and calculated cruelty that had forged his father's character when he was barely a child. He lacked the necessary toughness to carry out the hardest actions—the ones that had to be done. It was precisely Qin's ruthless youth that had allowed him to understand a brutal truth: the empire was not the solution, but a cancer that had created far more problems than it had ever solved.
"Do you want to be like him?" Lucifer asked, his tone much more serious and grave than before. He knew that Qin—his partner and comrade—would probably kill him for asking such a reckless question, but he felt it was necessary. The boy needed to face the cruel reality he refused to see. To do that, young Rose needed to risk taking flight and leave the safety of the nest, so he could make his own—and necessary—mistakes.
"More than anything in the world," Rose affirmed, looking at his uncle with absolute determination shining brightly in his beautiful silver eyes.
"Then, my dear nephew… take my hand and experience a life like the one your father had to endure. Only then will you understand what you've been refusing to accept," declared the First Traitor. He extended his hand—wreathed in flames burning with the very heat of the abyss—toward his nephew. He knew there would be no turning back after this, that he was crossing a point of no return. Yet, if this was the price to help his nephew finally open his eyes and understand the truth, he was willing to risk anything.
After hearing those words, Rose fell silent, staring fixedly at his uncle's outstretched hand. A mixture of curiosity and uncertainty danced in his eyes before he—without hesitating even for a heartbeat—took the hand. The moment their skin touched, and before he could process what was happening, his body and consciousness were overwhelmed by a torrent of a thousand entirely new sensations—an onslaught of energy and emotions he had never experienced in his young life. And as quickly as it came, it vanished. Before he could even begin to grasp the magnitude of what he had felt, everything around him dissolved into total and absolute darkness.
"He'd better be with a good family, Lu," the deep, calm voice of his old friend pulled the Demon King out of his thoughts.
Lucifer turned slowly to meet the gaze of the King of All Kings, who now regarded him with the serene, peaceful expression he had gained once he finally cast aside all the heavy burdens and responsibilities he had carried during his long stay in the Land Below.
"Oh, relax… I'd never send him somewhere he would truly suffer," Lucifer replied as he shifted his weight on the plush dark velvet sofa. "He just needs to grow a little, mature, and avoid—at all costs—going through all the torment you endured when you still bore that name."
He hoped, with a hint of anticipation, that the boy would use wisely all the valuable gifts he had bestowed upon him. But of course, he was an incredibly clever child. Surely he would know exactly what to do with what he had been given.
End of Chapter