"Hmm? Is it already evening?"
At sunset—between 18:00 and 19:00—the sky hovered in that liminal state, not yet dark, yet no longer bright.
The palace, illuminated by brilliant lights, shone like the sun at noon. Auspicious beasts painted upon glazed tiles coiled and wound across the vaulted ceiling dozens of meters above the ground.
"It really is... What's wrong with me? I've actually been pondering this question for so long."
Lifting the blanket draped over her body, Selene stepped out of the bedchamber. She wore a pure white gown adorned with not a single jewel, the light fabric outlining her alluring figure as she stretched lazily and stifled a yawn.
Before the bedchamber lay three hundred and sixty steps, meant for subjects to ascend one by one. The marble-paved ground was lined with towering ceremonial pillars, gilded bands gleaming between inlays of rare jade.
Auspicious beast sculptures were everywhere—some poised to spread their wings, some roaring toward the mountains, others crouched as if ready to pounce.
Ignoring the attendants kneeling behind her, Selene walked to the vast platform before the grand doors and looked up at the darkening sky, murmuring softly.
"Troublesome... Bring them all. Even if what a child builds while striving outside isn't perfect, it should still be brought home to meet the 'parents.'"
Conquest and unification had never been gentle affairs. More often than not, they were acts of violent destruction. And since war could not be avoided, then... better to cut through the chaos swiftly.
Only after enduring domineering devastation would they come to understand the value of ordered rule.
As for why she had been so conflicted and unusually invested in this matter, even Selene herself could not explain.
Was it obsession? A lingering thought born from past memories? A petty amusement of an empress? A hatred rooted in the deepest instincts of this body? A longing tied to the origin of her genes? Or something else entirely...
Perhaps it was all of them.
"This body... no, rather, my own physical memory. K–404... my true 'mother' and 'father,' my creators to whom I owe such 'gratitude.' Heh... heh heh..."
Lowering her head slightly, half covering her face, Selene's crimson eyes blazed with blood-red light.
"I really would like to meet you."
"I wonder... for a failed experiment like me, would you be pleased to see me?"
Gulp—
Sensing that Selene's mood was off—perhaps even sour—the attendants around her held their breath in tension. They swallowed nervously, beads of sweat rolling down their brows.
As palace servants, they were acutely sensitive to their sovereign's emotions, fearful that any action on their part might disturb her.
Selene rarely scolded anyone. She had never personally punished attendants or servants—that responsibility usually fell to Sebas.
But none of them were foolish enough to test her temper with their own lives.
At last, Selene swiftly adjusted her mood, reining in the sharp aura radiating from her. Only then did the attendants dare to lift their heads.
"Your Majesty... are you—?"
"Mm. I am fine. It is late. Prepare the evening meal."
With her hands clasped behind her back, Selene gave a faint, amused hum before turning and walking back into the bedchamber without another glance.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Honestly... why am I thinking so much?" she muttered.
I am now the Empress at the pinnacle of power, not some lone pufferfish fighting by herself.
Though the attendants had no idea what she meant, they neither dared to listen too closely nor to ask.
Only after Selene had walked far away did they straighten up. One of them noticed that among his subordinates, someone had nearly prostrated himself fully against the ground, forehead pressed to the floor.
Returning to the bedchamber, Selene leaned over her small desk and resumed reviewing the reports submitted by Budo and the other Astartes Legion Commanders.
"At present, the highest conquest efficiency belongs to Alex's First Legion. Budo's Second Legion follows. Liver's Third Legion and Roboute's Thirteenth Legion come next."
She inhaled lightly.
"It seems I have once again been fair in reward and punishment. Granting the first Simulation · Imaginary Tree to Roboute wasn't favoritism. His Ultramarines have truly performed well. Their scale is already catching up to the three founding Legions."
Her expression darkened slightly.
"Even though Liver's Legion is the slowest among the three founding Legions, the fact that Roboute has caught up deserves reward."
Of course, the other Legions would also receive their Simulation · Imaginary Trees and capital worlds eventually. That much was certain.
It was only a matter of timing—and the degree of prosperity.
There had to be some difficulty involved.
The things one truly desires are never easily obtained. And what is easily obtained is rarely cherished. Such was human nature.
Selene's thoughts drifted absurdly for a moment.
If a goddess were to grant rewards merely because you licked her a few times, would she still be a goddess? That would just be charity.
Shaking off the jumble of thoughts in her mind, Selene picked up her pen and began adding new directives.
Dispatch specialists from the Imperial Science Bureau to Conquered World No. 28—the Thirteenth Legion Ultramarines' capital world, Ultramar—to modify and expand forging production capacity.
She paused, eyes shifting thoughtfully.
No—revise that.
Instead of dispatching specialists, notify the Imperial Science Bureau's Chief Research Officer, Dr. Stylish, to personally oversee and guide the work.
The CR-Unit tactical manifestation systems used by this world's Spirit-response forces were quite promising.
Whether it was the Ratatoskr organization's Fraxinus voidship or DEM's Goetia airship, both offered valuable reference material.
"I'm sure Dr. Stylish will be delighted. Let him study some new technologies... and make a few improvements."
No—corrections were mandatory.
The standardized equipment designs adopted by AST and SSS were clearly unsuited to the Empire's conditions. They required major revision.
This was war, not a seduction contest. Why design armor so revealing? And the gender limitations absolutely had to be eliminated.
With that thought, Selene continued writing.
Extract the technological templates from the CR-Unit tactical manifestation systems.
After converting the energy source to Honkai energy, integrate the systems as reasonably as possible into Astartes power armor, or alternatively enhance the survivability of Imperial Auxilia units.
As for the Servitor Army...
Well, regrettably, the Imperial Ministry of War did not even register their unit numbers. Selene had no intention of concerning herself with such dust.
They were little more than local militias assembled by the various Astartes Legions, unworthy of the Empire's highest attention.
"Mm."
Setting down her pen, Selene nodded in satisfaction and turned the page.
"Hm. Budo and the others held an informal private banquet. Sanguinius of the Ninth Legion did not attend. Ah... he hasn't returned to the Imperial Capital. It seems the Blood Angels' campaign has entered a critical phase."
"Arisa has brought her Sisters of Battle as well... Heh. So the war isn't over yet. Guards!"
Bang!
Suddenly thinking of something, Selene slammed the desk again.
"Your Majesty!"
"Liver is still in the Imperial Capital, isn't he? I ordered him to dispatch support forces to assist the Blood Angels in battle and to test the Knightmare Frame units' performance. And he truly only sent the Knightmare Frame units and a portion of Astartes companies."
You could say that Liver had strictly followed Selene's literal wording.
He had indeed dispatched the support forces she requested, and at the same time, the Third Legion, the Black Marlin, under his command had rapidly improved its conquest efficiency.
You could also say he was a slippery old veteran, a seasoned idler—like a toad that only moved when poked.
...When did this happen? How did I not notice? When did that once so dutiful General Liver turn into someone clocking in and out like a salaried official?
It wasn't that he was no longer conscientious. It was just... for some reason, the more Selene looked at him, the less pleasing he seemed.
"Order: General Liver is to depart now—immediately, at once, personally. Remember, personally—he is to lead the support operation himself." Selene enunciated each word, stressing several of them heavily.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
What ill intent could the benevolent Empress Selene possibly harbor?
She was merely concerned that General Liver might be too bored—she simply could not bear to see someone more idle than herself—and so thoughtfully found him something to do.
"And notify Budo as well. The other Legions are to dispatch their detachments first. Inform Sanguinius and General Liver that after concluding their campaign, they are to follow up."
...
After entering the designated orbit, above a planet whose surface was overwhelmingly ocean with only sparse continental landmass, the floating fortresses and smaller voidships required minimal propulsion to maintain course, relying on the planet's rotational centrifugal force and inertia.
Midway along the Grand Line, before the Red Line, lay the Sabaody Archipelago.
Boom boom boom!
Bang bang bang!
Vrrr—!
Because this world possessed pitifully little land, Sanguinius had no desire to employ orbital bombardment. The islands were simply too fragile.
The primary method of engagement remained what the Astartes excelled at—drop pod assault.
"Pirates! This is the Sabaody Archipelago, the forward outpost of Marineford! The Navy's justice will not be trampled by you!"
Wearing a uniform beneath a coat emblazoned with the word Justice, a naval garrison commander roared and slashed forward with his long blade.
"Too slow."
The red-armored Astartes officer sidestepped the strike and drove his lightning claw—equipped with a Honkai-powered disintegration field—straight into the man's face.
Without suspense, the skull shattered.
"Primarily cold weapons, flintlock rifles, muzzle-loaded smoothbore cannons. Their technological level seems rather low..."
The Astartes showed no excitement at killing the commander. If anything, he found it dull.
"For justice! Kill! Kill! Kill!"
As he momentarily paused in thought, a large group of sailors in white uniforms charged forward, wielding single-edged sabers and shouting at the top of their lungs.
In response, he drew his fingers together and slashed downward. "Advance! For Selene—!"
Bang bang bang!
Thick orange muzzle flashes erupted in succession from the bolters. Dense streams of mass-reactive rounds instantly filled the air.
"Ahhh!"
Standard bolts struck the charging marines, tearing open their skin to reveal crimson flesh and pale bone, exposing writhing organs before punching through. Agonized screams ripped through the battlefield.
"Iron Body!"
Some of them activated one of the Navy's Six Powers techniques.
It wasn't that it had no effect. Rather, it had the opposite effect.
Under normal circumstances, a human body was insufficiently resistant to trigger the bolt's secondary detonation. The round would simply pass through.
But once hardened with Armament Haki and Iron Body, the situation changed.
Boom boom boom!
Upon striking hardened resistance, the bolts detonated violently. Some did not even have time to scream before being reduced to shredded flesh.
Flintlocks versus bolters—what kind of disparity was that?
Without extraordinary Armament Haki reinforcement, it was not even a contest within the same dimension.
"Lady Arisa, how does such an unequal battle feel to you?"
Lowering his head, a towering giant clad in magnificent golden artificer power armor—at least three and a half meters tall, taller than even the Admirals—spoke calmly. Massive rubies were set into his breastplate and pauldrons.
His flowing golden hair was radiant enough to bring tears to a goddess' eyes. His face was incomparably handsome. Behind him spread a pair of enormous pure-white wings.
Taken together, there was no word more fitting than angel.
"Legion Commander Sanguinius, their technological civilization appears rather primitive?"
Arisa stood beside him, small and adorable, her expression as serious as she could manage.
Unfortunately, no matter how serious she tried to look, she simply lacked the aura.
"Their governing structure is called the World Government. It seems to be a loose alliance. Their currency is called Belly?"
Sanguinius produced a stack of confiscated banknotes.
"The disparity in individual strength is significant. It seems bounty amounts correlate with power."
As he spoke, a squad of Astartes dragged forward a native dressed like a merchant. They did not even need to force him down—he dropped to his knees immediately.
"I ask. You answer."
"What is that creature? An alien?" Arisa pointed curiously at a conspicuous blue-skinned, gilled being amid the rubble of a collapsed building.
"M–My lady, that... that is a fish-man," the merchant stammered under the gaze of the armored giants.
"Fish-man? Why so ugly? Completely different from the mermaids Her Majesty described. You aren't lying to me, are you?" Arisa frowned in visible disgust.
"I wouldn't dare! The ones Your Majesty spoke of should be merfolk. They are different from fish-men."
"Merfolk... fish-men?"
Curiosity flickered across Arisa's face as she stepped closer to examine the restrained captive.
Suddenly—
"Die! You damned humans! We fish-men are the superior race!"
The bound fish-man lunged, jaws gaping wide to bite Arisa's arm. In his eyes, someone with slender limbs like hers posed no threat.
Crack!
His sharp teeth shattered as if striking tempered steel.
"How dare you!"
"Disgusting."
Barely concealing her revulsion, Arisa flicked her hand.
Crackle—!
A brilliant sky-blue radiance enveloped the fish-man. In an instant, the smell of roasted seafood filled the air. With a look of distaste, Arisa slammed him downward.
Watching her wipe the saliva from her arm with clear disgust, Sanguinius stepped forward expressionlessly and drove his armored boot down onto the fish-man's head.
Squish!
A crisp sound. The strange fish fell silent.
Meanwhile, in Area 13 of the Sabaody Archipelago, inside a bar called Shakky's Rip-Off Bar.
An elderly man with long, wavy hair, a beard along his chin, silver hair, a vertical scar over his right eye, and spectacles sipped wine while reading a newspaper.
"Heh... is this really going to be fine?"
"The flames of war have swept across the seas overnight. Even the Sabaody Archipelago hasn't been spared. I heard even the Celestial Dragons were killed outright. That boy Monkey and his companions were supposed to meet around this time... will they be all right?"