Imperial Capital, the next day, mid-morning.
The sunlight, having filtered through layers of cloud-patterned curtains and intricate floral lattice windows, hesitantly made its way into the Empress’ sleeping quarters.
Traversing past screens and climbing a series of steps, the golden rays finally illuminated the central bed in the vast and luxuriously decorated chamber.
On an expansive, slightly disheveled European-style bed, white was the dominant color, accented by red, gold, and black. Spread across this scene was the cascade of silver-white "satin," a harmonious part of the picturesque tableau.
Gradually, the persistent light inched closer, spilling over the grand bed at the center of the room.
"Mm..."
The bright light disturbed Selene’s slumber, piercing through her eyelids and reflecting faintly against her closed eyes, tugging her from her deep sleep.
"Just a bit longer..." Half-opening her eyes, her delicate eyelashes fluttered faintly as she turned her head slightly, trying to avoid the glare. Still drowsy, she attempted to shift her body and curl away from the sunlight.
Yet in the next mont, her brows furrowed slightly, irritation mingling with a sense of instinctual discipline instilled since childhood by Sebas. Sothing felt off.
It was already this late in the day; indulging in laziness would not do. If she did, Sebas would undoubtedly begin his lectures once more.
Selene’s half-lidded, hazy eyes sharpened into focus. Her drowsy body moved with sudden vigor, and in one fluid motion, she slipped off the edge of the bed like flowing water.
With an elegant push of her elbow, she propelled herself into the air, performing a graceful backflip before landing lightly on the floor, barefoot and balanced.
Creak...
"Your Majesty!"
Hearing the commotion, Whitney, the head chamberlain waiting outside, cautiously pushed open the door, bowing deeply as she entered.
"Mm." Selene stretched lazily, letting out a yawn as she rubbed her eyes with one hand. Her other hand scratched her slightly disheveled silver hair. She nodded faintly in acknowledgnt.
"Right away." Whitney responded promptly, gesturing behind her. The doors opened wider as a procession of attendants entered in orderly fashion.
About twenty or so people poured into the room: so tidying the bed, others gathering the curtains, a few opening the windows to air the room. Each task was handled in pairs or small teams.
In no ti at all, the previously still and quiet sleeping quarters were bustling with activity.
Five minutes later, Selene erged from her chambers, revitalized and surrounded by a throng of attendants.
"Ah... I feel alive again. A good sleep truly benefits the mind and body. The ancients were not wrong about that."
"Your Majesty, are you certain that particular saying is from the ancients?" Sebas erged from the shadows of a palace colonnade, his tone laced with subtle skepticism.
In private, Sebas might occasionally address Selene as "Miss" to show familiarity. However, most of the ti, to emphasize her authority, he strictly adhered to the formal address of "Your Majesty."
"Well, don’t worry about its origins. The point is, it’s true," Selene replied with a composed expression.
"Getting up close to eleven in the morning isn’t exactly what one would call a healthy sleep habit, my liege. Too early, too late, too little, or too much sleep—none of these are good," Sebas said cheerfully, engaging in the light banter that no one else would dare attempt.
"Lord Sebas." The head chamberlain of Selene’s inner palace, Whitney, bowed gracefully before stepping back three paces, clearing the imdiate space around Selene. Sebas naturally filled the gap, seamlessly taking his place.
"Hmph. This is harmful, that is harmful. Living a ’healthy’ life like that sounds utterly boring," Selene replied.
"It’s not entirely wrong to indulge now and then. Life does need its spices, but when indulgence becos the norm, well... that’s not advisable," Sebas countered with a knowing smile.
"Yes, yes, old man Sebas, I understand," Selene said, feigning impatience.
Trailing behind Selene and Sebas, the attendants exchanged subtle smiles. In the Empire, it seed that only in the palace and in Sebas’s company could the Empress show such a side.
Lady Alyssa, in Selene’s eyes, was more like a child or a younger sibling, unable to achieve the sa balance of ntorship and camaraderie that Sebas offered.
"Your Majesty, breakfast has been prepared. Also, here is the list of candidates for planetary governors under the Ministry of Internal Affairs," Sebas reported.
"Mm. Oh, and one more thing: have Esdeath bring Kiana and the others to the palace. It’s ti to arrange their positions."
"As you command."
...
anwhile, in another palace...
"Hmph, see? Whatever you can do, this immortal can do just as well, and even better!" Senti declared smugly, her confidence once again inflated after a night of effort.
"Yes, yes," Fu Hua replied with a calm expression. "I am quite certain you can. After all, with my mories, you essentially have my experiences. If you couldn’t manage it..."
"Then... are you a fool?" Fu Hua’s tone was neutral, but her words carried a subtle edge as she spoke with a blandness that veiled an implicit rebuke, carefully choosing her phrasing to avoid inciting Senti’s temper.
"Ah—!"
"Overconfident but underwhelming," was Durandal’s silent evaluation. Initially tempted to voice her thoughts, she held back, mindful of Senti’s pride and sensitive nature. Maturity had taught Durandal the importance of considering others’ feelings, especially after recent revelations about her origins and past.
As soone once known for her bluntness and rigid adherence to rules, Durandal had grown to temper her directness. She now understood that even well-intentioned advice could be ill-received if delivered without tact.
It wasn’t long ago that Durandal had been known for her earnest, straightforward nature—so much so that she was teased as "dense" during her childhood at the orphanage. Even later, during her service under Theresa’s command, her frequent reprimands of Theresa’s laziness often caused endless frustration for the latter.
"Isn’t it wonderful, Lady Durandal?" Rita interjected, her gaze shimring with admiration as she addressed Durandal in a slow, envious tone. "Doesn’t this show how close they are?"
"Uh..." Durandal hesitated, montarily at a loss for words.
Shifting her gaze away from the two "Fu Hua"s locked in another standoff, Raiden i spoke with so concern. "Principal, are you sure you’re okay now? According to the chamberlain, we’ll be summoned to the palace today. We can’t afford any slip-ups."
"Ahem!" Teresa, seemingly recovered from her earlier struggles, puffed out her flat chest and spoke with uncharacteristic vigor. "Who am I?! Your principal! As your elder and the Overseer of Schicksal, how could I let you face this alone?"
"Uh, just to clarify, I think I’m older than you," Pardofelis interjected, raising a paw.
"..." Teresa’s face darkened at the interruption. "You shut it, cat-head!"
"Wow, so an! But just so you know, I’m not scared of you. Just a friendly reminder—getting angry makes you age faster, ow~"
Unfazed, Pardofelis dismissed Teresa’s diminutive, feisty appearance as non-threatening. What could she do, burn my tail? She thought, her expression full of mischief. She’s all bark and no bite.
Lounging cross-legged on a cushion, Pardofelis muttered under her breath, "If only Snake-sister hadn’t left..."
Kiana’s curiosity was piqued. After calming Teresa down, she turned to Pardofelis and asked, "Pardofelis, where did Dr. Mobius go?"
"Beats . I just know Snake-sister’s position isn’t the sa as us fighters. A group of strange uniford people ca by and took her away."
Pardofelis folded her arms, tilting her head in thought. "It’s like..."
"Like what?" Kiana pressed.
"Hmm... It’s just that they gave off a vibe really similar to Snake-sister’s."
"The Imperial Science Bureau," Fu Hua interjected, returning victorious after suppressing the rebellious Senti.
"According to what Her Majesty ntioned before, Mobius, Dr. Einstein, Dr. Tesla, and most technical personnel from Schicksal, Anti-Entropy, and World Serpent will likely be reorganized under the Imperial Science Bureau," Fu Hua explained.
"From there, they’ll be tasked with developing and manufacturing more destructive war machines for the Empire." Adjusting her red-frad glasses, Fu Hua’s expression grew complicated. "And we... will be the executioners."
"..."
The heavy atmosphere lingered until Senti suddenly sprang back to life.
"Well, that’s not very you," she said mockingly. "But let’s be real—only by doing this can we rise to high positions in the Empire, protect Shenzhou, and safeguard our holand."
"As for others? Bah! Who cares? A clay idol crossing a river can’t even save itself. You can’t sort out your own house but still dream of being saviors? Give a break—it’s impossible."
"You all look like lofty saints, worrying about the world, yearning to save humanity, but it’s all a load of crap! Thinking about it doesn’t make it real—it’s just nonsense!"
"If you’ve got ti to daydream, you’d be better off figuring out how to earn rits. Once you’ve been ennobled, beco a feudal lord, and gained power, as long as you pay taxes on ti, you can run your territory however you like."
Senti’s scornful gaze swept over the dazed group in the hall, her tone exuding an air of aloof clarity, as if she alone was the sober one amidst a room of fools.
Like Fu Hua, Senti had also read so of the Empire’s literature, but unlike Fu Hua’s thorough study, Senti had skimd a few pages before tossing the book aside.
Every line, every punctuation mark in those texts reeked of rigid hierarchy and privilege.
And yet, that was precisely the paradoxical charm of the Sacred Selene Empire.
Policy-wise, the Empire prioritized its native citizens, while the residents of worlds under the military legions ranked second. In essence, it was a system that brazenly displayed undertones of racial hierarchy.
Although this attitude undeniably sparked resentnt from the worlds subjugated by the Empire, when it ca to governance, the Imperial governnt—or rather, Selene herself—demonstrated remarkable decisiveness and pragmatism in employing talent. This inclusivity extended not only to humans from conquered worlds but even to individuals from non-human species.
In her words and actions, Selene was unequivocally a proponent of authoritarianism, hegemony, and dictatorship. Yet, paradoxically, she was also entirely ritocratic.
Birth, status, and lineage ant nothing to her; all were treated equally under her rule.
The Divine Empress valued strength, talent, and capability, while scorning weakness and diocrity. Though there was a strict red line that all were bound by, Selene was far more lenient toward the talented than toward the inept.
To date, countless ancient noble houses had been stripped of their titles and estates for being deed incompetent by the Empress. Conversely, innurable exceptional individuals had risen through the ranks, establishing the first generation of noble titles under Selene’s reign.
These remarkable individuals included not only Imperial natives but also warriors from auxiliary forces and prodigies from non-human species.
This was Senti’s perspective. She found Fu Hua and the others overly sentintal and prone to unnecessary overthinking.
Want to implent your ideals? Fine. Wait until you’ve beco a feudal lord. By then, you can govern your territories—be it cities or planets—however you wish, as long as you pay your taxes.
"You’re all hopeless!" Senti declared, clenching her fist and pointing her thumb downward in a flamboyant display.
While the group pondered Senti’s speech, a deep, gravelly voice tinged with tallic resonance interjected, "A very astute statent. Only in such a manner will matters progress as you desire. Idle dreams are futile."
As everyone turned to look, a gold-armored Imperial Guard stepped through the open sliding door from the hall. Thanks to the towering architecture of the Imperial capital, the giant soldier didn’t need to stoop.
"Ladies and gentlen, Her Majesty summons you. Please prepare to depart." Without unnecessary movents, the imposing figure cast a shadow that completely enveloped Theresa.
...
The Grand Palace, Outer Court of the Imperial Residence, Reception Hall
Esdeath and Alyssa strolled leisurely down the long staircase leading to the reception hall. Alyssa, clearly in high spirits, swung her arms with exaggerated enthusiasm and chattered incessantly, pestering Esdeath for details about her experience dealing with Anti-Entropy.
"The Queen said she wants to integrate those so-called Valkyrie forces under my command, and you’re going to assist personally? Wow! I’m thrilled!" Alyssa exclaid, practically skipping as she spoke.
"Oh, by the way, what about the elite troops you’ve been training? What’s your assessnt of them, Esdeath?" she asked eagerly.
"It’s hard to say," Esdeath replied thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hand as she walked. "On paper, their potential is undeniable. But their temperants... I’ll need to grind those down."
"I’ve already chosen a trial world for them. It’s the sa savage world your Sisters of Silence discovered."
"The conflicts there—between magical beasts, subhuman species, alien races, and dieval human civilizations—will be challenging. Their strength isn’t the issue, but I want to see if they can make the hard decisions..."
"I’m curious about the choices they’ll make."
"I want to go too!" Alyssa piped up, her expression full of innocent excitent.
"You?" Esdeath glanced at the naive, childlike Alyssa and firmly shook her head. "Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it!"
Frankly, the grotesque creatures on that world made Esdeath’s skin crawl just thinking about them.
"Oh, co on! Now I’m even more curious," Alyssa pouted.
"No way! Unless you get the Empress’ approval, it’s not happening," Esdeath retorted, deftly deflecting responsibility.
As she spoke, Esdeath suddenly sensed sothing. Turning around, she smirked and said, "Look, Alyssa, here cos the person you need."
Walking toward them was a group led by none other than Selene herself.
"These are the high-ranking officers of your future Valkyrie forces," Esdeath announced, gesturing toward the approaching group.
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