Epilogue: The Garden of Submissive Flowers

The rising sun tinged Konoha's clover fields with golden hues, but no shinobi were there to witness it. The Hidden Leaf Village was now just an empty backdrop—an abandoned shell, as all its inhabitants had been relocated to a new world.

In the center of a floating palace above the clouds, Miguel rested on a divan of intertwined bodies. Kaguya formed the main seat, her soft buttocks molded for his comfort, while their intertwined hands created supports for his arms. Naruko and Kushina served as living backrests, their warm bodies pressed against his back, hardened nipples brushing his skin with each breath.

In front of him, Sakurako and Konan knelt on a carpet of tongues—the outstretched tongues of the younger kunoichi, **** to lick the floor in eternal reverence. Hinata, Ino, and Tenten formed the base of the throne, their backs arched like steps, mouths wide open and dripping saliva in anticipation of their next use.

"Report," Miguel ordered, stroking Kaguya's silver hair as if it were reins.

Tsunade crawled forward, her voluminous breasts swaying under the weight of centuries now erased. "Sixty-three new slaves trained today, Master," she replied, her voice hoarse from shouting. "Anko's team finished converting the last holdouts of the Mist."

A snap of her fingers.

From the shadows, Mei Terumī emerged—naked, her eyes glazed, dragging three young women by their hair. "These… these swore loyalty to the very core of their being," she stammered, displaying the girls like trophies. Her legs trembled, still dripping with Miguel's fluids from the previous night.

He examined the new recruits with a bored look. "Put them in the cleaning section. If they still have any pride after licking the toilets for a month, I'll break them myself."

Sakura stepped forward with a bowl of fruit. Or rather—fruit carved in the shape of phalluses, dipped in cream. "Your meal, Master," she murmured, her green eyes gleaming with devotion.

Miguel bit into a "grape" slowly, watching as all the kunoichi present shuddered at the sound of his teeth piercing the pulp. It was ridiculously easy. A snap of the fingers here, a whispered wish there, and even the proudest warriors became eager playthings.

When the sun reached its zenith, he raised his hand.

Instantly, two hundred kunoichi froze in a position of attention, their trembling bodies awaiting orders.

"Team meeting," he announced, gripping the ends of Naruko and Kaguya's hair like handles.

The meaning was clear.

In seconds, the hall transformed into a sea of ​​writhing female bodies—tongues licking, fingers thrusting, mouths pleading. Tsunade rode Shizune like a horse, rubbing her breasts against her subordinate's back while whimpering for attention. Konan and Sakurako dueled with their nipples, trying to see who could produce more milk to offer.

And in the center of it all, Miguel watched with a tranquil smile as Kaguya swallowed his penis down to his balls, her white eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

After all, why be a god…

…When you can be *The* God?

**The End.**