I Am Honkai Chapter 423: Conquer That World!

Novel: I Am Honkai Author: DaoOfHeaven Updated: Jun 16, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 423: Conquer That World! from I Am Honkai, a Fantasy novel by DaoOfHeaven.

Imperial Internal Affairs Headquarters.

Compared to the grand palace built for Selene, the room Sebas chose for his office was pitifully small.

Inside the modest room, a thick carpet covered the floor, and gilded wall lamps illuminated the space. The walls were adorned with intricately engraved reliefs, their patterns alternating between purple and gold.

On one side of the room, a large incense burner, repurposed from a European-style fireplace, stood prominently. Flanking the incense burner, large decorative paintings hung on the walls, while a velvet-cushioned long bench rested nearby.

Beside the bench, a fine porcelain vase, crafted from offerings collected across the many worlds under Imperial rule, held fresh flowers as decoration.

Overall, the entire room radiated an air of noble elegance, a setting perfectly suited to Sebas’s temperant.

A heart as fierce as a tiger, yet able to appreciate the scent of roses.

The room’s small yet refined design precisely balanced the boundary between ruler and minister, neither too extravagant nor overly humble.

Rustle—

At this mont, the room was deathly silent.

The bureaucrats of the Internal Affairs Departnt, attendants, and military officers from the Military Affairs Departnt all held their breath, daring not to make a sound.

The only noise was the faint rustling of pages as Sebas turned through the docunts.

Carefully separating the stack of urgent files from the Military Affairs Departnt, Sebas habitually reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his monocle, affixing it to his eye by lightly pinching the fra.

It served no actual function.

This was simply a habit Sebas developed to signal that he was taking matters seriously.

After all, short-sightedness or presbyopia were impossible for Sebas—a Honkai Beast born alongside the Herrscher of the End.

As he read each line word by word, Sebas’s expression grew increasingly serious.

"Preliminary observations suggest... the enemy is an interstellar xeno empire, heavily steeped in religious worship, composed of multiple alien species unified under a religious interstellar empire."

The intelligence consisted of both conclusive assessnts from Military Affairs sub-departnts and oral reports from reconnaissance units, along with reconnaissance imagery and audiovisual recordings.

"According to the reconnaissance forces’ compiled reports, the empire’s sphere of influence appears to encompass most of the outer Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy."

"Currently, no official or civilian human civilization has been encountered. All observed entities thus far are alien species. However, after shooting down and capturing multiple alien spacecraft and deciphering their ship data cores... "

"Although their language has not yet been fully translated, we have extracted several fragnted pieces of information. Among them, one specific term repeatedly appears."

"After discussion and analysis by the reconnaissance team, it is believed that this term is an English transliteration—a proper noun, likely a place na—"

"Reach."

"An English transliteration? Reach... So that ans there is a high probability that a human civilization exists."

"And not just any human civilization—but one that has entered the interstellar era."

"A dark forest war in space—an interstellar war between human civilization and alien species. This will be the dominant the of this world."

"Then this world is truly a treasure trove—an abundance of manpower, resources, and military technology is guaranteed."

War.

It would undoubtedly bring endless suffering to those involved, leaving behind countless tragedies—sothing that many strongly opposed.

However—

A coin always has two sides.

No one can deny that war has been one of the strongest driving forces behind technological advancent—especially in military technology.

Under the pressure of survival, human potential would be forced to its limits.

After all—if you do not grow stronger, you will lose. If you lose, you die. Your family will be slaughtered. Your species will be enslaved.

It was akin to a blade pressed against one’s throat, forcing them to fight.

With total societal mobilization, resources would inevitably be channeled toward military developnt—failure to do so would lead to defeat.

A willingness to invest unlimited manpower and material resources was an objective factor in technological progress.

For example, the weapons of World War I and World War II were far more advanced than the technology of the early 20th century.

In less than fifty years, weapons on land, sea, and air experienced explosive growth in variety, quality, and power.

Without those wars—

Would anyone in the late 19th century or early 20th century have believed such technological leaps were possible in such a short ti?

From Sebas’s standpoint as an Imperial official, the ideal scenario was for the war to be as prolonged and intense as possible—preferably with both sides suffering crippling losses, their forces worn down and exhausted.

Then, the Empire could step in, crush the remnants, and claim the spoils of victory.

"A tough opponent that will require long-term grinding and brutal warfare. Completely subjugating them will take considerable effort. But..."

"It is indeed a massive catch—a nourishing feast for Her Majesty."

Having ticulously read through every last punctuation mark of the docunt, Sebas finally lifted his head, his gaze landing on the officer standing respectfully before his desk.

"Yes, sir!"

Understanding Sebas’s unspoken command, the officer lightly tapped the wall-mounted console, transmitting the classified docunt from the Military Affairs Departnt to the room’s central 3D projection system.

"This?"

Sebas closed the folder, stepping toward the projection device.

"Which legions are leading this campaign?"

"Report! The Astartes Second Legion, the Punishers, under Grand General Budo, will spearhead the assault! They will be reinforced by—"

"The Eighth Legion, the Night Lords, led by General Konrad Curze, the Twelfth Legion, the World Eaters, under General Angron, and the Nineteenth Legion, the Raven Guard, commanded by General Corvus Corax!"

"Budo’s forces, huh... Have them hold back their advance, deploy more reconnaissance units, and only attack once they are fully prepared. Tell them not to act recklessly."

"Additionally, avoid blindly enforcing an extermination policy on all alien species. Capture so of them alive for interrogation. For those willing to surrender, implent appeasent asures."

Sebas’s aning was clear—

Recruiting so of the alien species as subordinates would help divide and weaken the enemy, reducing their desperation to fight to the death.

Such an approach would yield valuable guides, increase expendable frontline forces, and ultimately prove more beneficial than detrintal.

Pausing for a mont, Sebas added—

"This is rely advice—the final decision on battlefield strategy remains with the Grand Generals commanding the front lines. Deliver my words exactly as spoken—no embellishnts."

"Yes, sir!"

As the projection screen flickered, scenes of small alien creatures being instantly dismbered by the elite scouts of the Second Legion, the Punishers played out.

Sebas, however, paid them no mind.

His entire focus was drawn to the alien warships.

Unlike the Empire’s capital ships, which—thanks to a certain soone’s personal aesthetic preferences—resembled flying cathedrals and palaces, these alien ships were sleek and streamlined, devoid of sharp edges.

They looked nimble, possessing a distinct elegance—a stark contrast to the purely militaristic brutality of Imperial naval architecture.

"A refreshing change from the ’noble ladies’ of our fleet. A little ’delicate beauty’... how intriguing."

After carefully studying the alien ship’s structure for a full minute, Sebas suddenly lowered his gaze and issued a new order, tossing a shield-shaped command token forward.

"Reconnaissance forces alone may not be enough. Inform the Imperial Assassination Corps and the Inquisition’s Assassin Hall—it’s ti to stretch their muscles."

Schlurrrp—

From the darkness beneath his feet, a shadow writhed, responding silently.

A pair of crimson-red eyes flashed within the void, and a bluish-black hand slowly erged, grasping the command token before sinking back into the abyss—

As if it had never appeared at all.

A mont later, Sebas’s fingertips glowed with violet light, summoning a crystalline cube into existence.

"Milady, urgent docunt—this is the interstellar empire case you specifically emphasized. Please review and make your decision."

Bzzt—!

With a wave of his hand, Sebas disassembled the holographic projection of the tear-drop-shaped alien spacecraft, breaking it down into dozens of individual components.

He analyzed them one by one.

Then—

"Report! Lord Sebas, Dr. Stylish requests an audience."

"Let him in."

Upon receiving Sebas’s approval, the guard gently pushed open the office’s wooden door.

Dressed in a white lab coat, carrying a suitcase, Dr. Stylish stepped inside.

With a dramatic flourish, he spread his arms wide, his mannerisms exaggerated—

Then bowed deeply in greeting.

At this mont, Sebas also shut down the 3D projection. He turned to glance at Dr. Stylish, who had just entered, before returning to his desk.

"Dr. Stylish, your timing is perfect. Regarding your research on the ti-sensitive viral bomb—have you completed the preparations?"

Sebas had dealt with Dr. Stylish’s eccentric behavior many tis before. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of the scientist’s unrestrained personality, he understood that mad scientists always had their quirks.

Thus, he tolerated it.

"Of course! Preparations are—"

Dr. Stylish quickly moved to sit across from Sebas, opening his briefcase and spreading a stack of docunts onto the desk, one by one.

"—partially complete."

"Partially?"

Sebas lifted his head again, his voice carrying a hint of scrutiny.

"Do you have a request, Doctor?"

For a mad scientist who would gladly live inside a laboratory to leave his ’den’ voluntarily—and even seek out a bureaucrat, much less at the bureaucratic headquarters—there were only three possible reasons:

Lack of funding, lack of authorization, or lack of experintal materials.

Sebas could not think of any other reason.

"As expected, Lord Sebas truly understands ..."

"Speak directly. What do you want?"

"Straight to the point! Hmm..."

Dr. Stylish hesitated briefly, then cautiously tested the waters—

"Lord Sebas, I need more goblin specins. The materials for the viral bomb have been completely used up."

After a brief pause, he added—

"Specifically, they must co from Trial World No. 5, under the Military Affairs Departnt’s jurisdiction. Ideally, I need at least 100,000 specins to expedite developnt..."

"Used up?"

Sebas’s voice dropped several degrees, his impeccable mory instantly recalling a scientific bureau report from three days ago.

Lowering his fountain pen, Sebas pressed on—

"If I recall correctly, Trial World No. 5 submitted at least 8,000 captured goblins three days ago."

"Do not tell that in less than three days, you have already dissected nearly 10,000 goblins?"

"Well... a rather interesting new mber joined recently. She’s... quite energetic and wanted to challenge my position as the top researcher. So, naturally, we had a few rounds of competition..."

"A few rounds?"

Sebas repeated the wording deliberately.

Clearly, they had gone overboard.

With a hand pressed to his forehead, Sebas sighed and said—

"Doctor, explain. Why do you insist on goblins only from Trial World No. 5? As far as I know, several resource worlds also produce goblins. What’s the difference?"

"A huge difference!"

The mont Dr. Stylish heard a topic he was passionate about, it was as if soone had pressed his G-spot.

In an exaggerated, one-footed spinning motion, he retrieved his personal notebook from his briefcase.

"Lord Sebas, please grant access."

"Granted."

Sebas’s voice was slightly weary.

The projection screen flickered back on.

This ti, it displayed a live feed from the Imperial Science Bureau’s main laboratory.

Boom!

The sound carried through the room.

Inside a cage filled with bloodcurdling screams, an Imperial guard swung a baton, sending a goblin flying across the room.

The creature slamd into the ground two ters away.

Imdiately, another soldier in a protective suit stepped forward and crudely ripped out its heart.

Sebas then shifted his gaze toward the edge of the cage—

There, a group of seven or eight goblin infants huddled in the corner, trembling in fear.

Their beady eyes stared at the Imperial soldiers, their mouths emitting weak, chattering cries—’Gala, gala...’

Tears and mucus stread down their faces.

They looked pitiable, harmless—utterly terrified.

"You seriously called here just to watch this?"

Sebas deadpanned.

"No wonder your materials are running out so fast..."

Hearing the displeasure in Sebas’s tone, Dr. Stylish remained utterly unfazed, smiling as he cheerfully added—

"Lord Sebas, have you noticed that these goblins are all male?"

"Huh? Now that you ntion it... Is there a problem?"

"Don’t be fooled by their harmless expressions."

"According to reports, when they were captured, their nests contained several half-devoured human female corpses."

"Only female corpses?"

Sebas had already ford a hypothesis.

"Exactly. These creatures are a monosexual species—they are mammals, yet only males exist. This is completely different from goblins in other worlds and entirely contradicts evolutionary theory."

"In other words, they were artificially created through divine intervention!"

As he spoke, Dr. Stylish reached out and manipulated the projection, his voice lowering.

"Furthermore, their DNA structure is more similar to humans than laboratory mice—over 99% identical."

"Genetically, they are essentially an alternate form of humanity."

"Which ans—they are the perfect natural source of human experintal material!"

"Oh? In that case, these goblins shouldn’t be wiped out just yet. They’re useful."

"Huh?! Extermination?! What’s going on?! Who in their right mind would be so heartless as to harm these adorable little creatures?! Who made such a cruel proposal?!"

...Do you even have a conscience?

On the projection screen, an Imperial guard could be seen coldly dragging the goblin infants one by one out of their cage.

No matter how they scread, they could not escape their fate—becoming test subjects.

Their fearful cries likely resembled those of the human won they had once captured.

However—falling into Dr. Stylish’s hands, their fate would undoubtedly be far worse than death.

"Esdeath’s Extermination Order application."

Sebas explained calmly.

"You’re in luck—Her Majesty has withheld approval and left it unprocessed."

"Long live Her Majesty’s wisdom!"

Dr. Stylish exclaid with reverence.

"Enough, Doctor. Save your flattery for when Her Majesty returns. For now—"

"Go collect your materials."

Finally, Sebas authorized the official directive, signing off on it before handing it over to the eagerly awaiting Dr. Stylish—who was rubbing his hands like a fly.

"Hah..."

Watching Dr. Stylish’s ecstatic departure, Sebas rose from his seat, gazing out at the imperial courtyard gardens.

Looking down at his own hand, he murmured—

"Viral bombs, biological weapons, Extermination Orders... The impermanence of the world is truly fascinating."

Who would have thought—

A man who once majored in architecture and fine arts, with a minor in managent, would end up like this?

Just then—

The cube on Sebas’s desk began to tremble.

A transparent, projected hand erged, gently touching Sebas’s own hand.

"No need for such thoughts."

"Your hands are not dirty—only mine are."

"Milady... You—"