The afternoon sunlight poured through the cloudless sky, scattering golden fragments across the ground.
There were no mood-ruining clouds or sudden changes in weather.
One could say the heavens were being kind… or rather, it was simply the result of artificial manipulation.
Clatter!
In the soft glow of the setting sun, armored vehicles armed with rifles and heavy weaponry thundered onto a makeshift runway. They stopped by the airfield's side, where golden light cascaded over their towering metal shells and the cold steel of tactical humanoid machines.
There was no need for rehearsals—their formation drills were already carved into their muscles. Wearing spotless uniforms, ceremonial soldiers from the Sangheili Legions, Imperial Auxiliary Forces, and Imperial Servant Armies stood tall and proud, neatly arrayed upon the semi-permanent airfield newly established beside the Wall Maria.
Under the fluttering banners symbolizing the divine authority of the Sacred Selene Empire, the golden double-headed eagle standard waved proudly amidst the flags of the participating Imperial military divisions.
The scene—its color, its light—was breathtaking.
Like something drawn from a painting.
If one ignored the flames and black smoke still rising from the walled city of Trost and the inner district of the Wall Maria…
And the captured intelligent Titans in human form kneeling in a row, awaiting judgment.
A sight that slightly spoiled the beauty of the scene.
The intelligent Titans' human vessels had their hands bound behind their backs and shackles on their feet, forced to kneel. Behind them stood a line of fully armed Sangheili warriors clad in blue armor, each gripping a twin-bladed energy sword.
At this moment, Armin Arlert's broken ribs and fractured arm had been healed. Even his disheveled face had been forcibly cleaned.
Though he looked somewhat presentable now, his spirit was clearly broken. Scabs and unhealed scratches marked his visibly weary face.
His dry lips were tightly clenched. Hunched over, Armin lifted his head slightly, glancing sideways at his fellow captives—his 'comrades.'
Former comrades, current comrades, or those he still believed could become allies.
The nine intelligent Titan hosts—they should have been warriors fighting side by side. How did things come to this?
Where had it all gone wrong?
Sensitive and introspective as ever, Armin could not stop himself from asking.
Eren…
Bare-chested and draped in an old black cloak, Eren Yeager had long lost the fiery, youthful image from his training corps days. His face was gaunt and unshaven, his dark, tangled hair falling loosely like the drowned ghost of a bedtime story.
Especially those once bright, emerald-blue eyes—now dull, hidden beneath his fringe, lifelessly fixed on the void ahead.
When this joint army of humans and non-humans had pulled the prisoners from their camps, Armin had already seen Eren among the captives brought from other sectors.
Along the way, Armin had called out to him again and again, even earning savage beatings from the guards.
Yet Eren remained an empty shell—his body pushed and prodded by those tall, four-jawed, scorpion-lizard-like alien creatures without a flicker of response.
And then there was Zeke Yeager.
Tall and muscular, his bare upper body scarred, Zeke still wore his broken round spectacles. The 'Spear of Marley,' the 'Child of Anomaly,' and commander of the Titan Warriors—he was now in the same state as Eren.
Vacant eyes. Lips moving silently.
What happened to them?
Though the others' faces were marked by pain and resentment, at least their emotions were visible. But those two… was this the side effect of the Founding Titan's power? Did they see something in the 'Coordinate Space'?
With that thought, Armin's eyes turned slightly, observing the others.
A tall, blond man, his stern face twisted in agony—Reiner Braun.
A dark-haired woman, her expression shadowed and distant—Pieck Finger.
A broad-shouldered youth with a neatly combed blond pompadour, his handsome features strained by grief.
He didn't recognize them all, but it was clear that they, too, were members of Marley's "Warrior Unit" possessing the power of the intelligent Titans.
And then, Armin noticed someone he hadn't expected to see.
A blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty, her cold and refined face partially obscured by her slightly undersized Military Police uniform bearing the Unicorn insignia. Faint traces of half-crystallized fluid still clung to her body, not yet fully dried.
Annie Leonhart!
Wasn't she supposed to be sealed within her crystal cocoon using her hardening ability? She should have been imprisoned beneath the inner city, under the Wall of Sina… had the royal capital within Wall Sina already fallen too?
"Stay still!"
A sudden movement triggered by his emotions brought searing pain to his neck—along with the acrid stench of scorched flesh.
Bzzt!
A twin-bladed energy sword crackling with arcs of electricity sliced across his skin. Just a little more pressure, and it would have cut through his windpipe.
At that moment, the sunlight dimmed.
Clap! Clap!
"Attention!"
The scorching blade withdrew from his throat.
Armin raised his head and looked toward the darkened sky. This time, the Sangheili warrior didn't stop him from moving.
A colossal transport ship, far exceeding the largest airships of the Marleyan Empire, descended from the heavens under the escort of more than a dozen gunships. The roar of its plasma thrusters lit up everyone's faces. Except for Eren and Zeke—still motionless and empty—the rest all looked up.
Some solemn, some stunned, others expressionless, treating life and death alike with quiet defiance.
Whirrr—!
The gunships continued to circle above as the transport landed. When the hatch slowly opened, immaculately dressed Imperial officers stepped forward to receive the guest of honor.
Even the Sangheili officers wore chestplates adorned with intricate medals.
Thud, thud, thud—
From the ramp descended a unit of Valkyrie troops clad in black-and-gold "Immortal Blade" uniforms. Each carried a briefcase or a metallic case, stepping in perfect rhythm. Behind them followed female combat nuns in light, power-assisted armor, who took position on either side of the ramp to form an honor guard.
A VIP?
Naturally—such a spectacle could only occur during an inspection by a figure of great importance.
Still, Armin's thoughts wandered. He wanted to talk to them.
Among the few soldiers ever rated with "Strategy: 10, Judgment: 10," Armin had long been known as the mind of the corps—the strategist. He hoped to negotiate, to reach an understanding.
If they were willing to talk…
A dangerous thought crept into his mind—ignore the civilians, disregard the fallen comrades nearby… what if he used his Titan power right here?
Of course, that was impossible.
Armin clenched his shackled hands as the line of officers disembarked—perhaps the equivalent of the royal police. He dug his nails into his palms, straining, trying to transform.
But no matter how deep he tore into his skin, his Titan power wouldn't activate.
During the battle in Shiganshina District, he hadn't joined the front lines out of fear of collateral damage, instead commanding from the rear.
That was precisely why, when the Imperial Army's sudden strike arrived, he had no time to react. A Sangheili elite had pierced his chest—spine and all—with an energy sword before he could transform.
Such a wound would have killed any ordinary human.
But for a Titan shifter, the greatest gift their power bestowed was accelerated regeneration.
The Sangheili warrior had clearly written him off as another corpse and tossed him aside before moving on. When the battle ended, it was the prisoner cleanup teams—formed from captured Paradis troops—who later found his body amid the rubble.
Imperial soldiers had thrown him into the medical camp without much thought.
Since then, his spine and torso had been numb, his body unable to fully recover.
"Salute!" ×N
Under the gaze of all assembled, Kiana descended the ramp with a faint smile.
To be honest, she didn't like ceremonies like this.
At first, Kiana had considered living and eating alongside her soldiers, sharing their hardships without rank or formality. But the problem was, the Sacred Selene Empire was a feudal autocracy built entirely on hierarchy.
Even if she was willing, her subordinates dared not.
One could only say Selene's reforms had succeeded. The Empire's strict, Qin-like legal system—reminiscent of Shang Yang's iron laws—had long since been imprinted into the foundation of its existence.
To change it would take nothing less than Selene's death and the Empire's collapse—or a direct, painstaking effort from Selene herself to rewrite the system.
Unable to go against her subordinates' insistence… Kiana eventually grew used to it.
Now that she was a planetary governor, and this world was her jurisdiction, she had to endure the deference and keep her focus on other matters.
Surrounded by her retinue, Kiana nodded in acknowledgment to the officers of the Imperial Auxiliary Forces and Servant Armies.
Finally, she stopped before the commanding officer of the Sangheili Legion in golden armor.
This planet's campaign had not involved the Astartes warriors of the Punishers Legion. Instead, it had been led by an Imperial detachment composed primarily of Sangheili forces—a routine conquest like countless others before.
Kiana glanced around and asked, "Has Fleet Commander Xytan 'Jar Wattinree already departed?"
"Yes, Governor. Lord Xytan 'Jar Wattinree received a direct command from Her Majesty and has gone to fulfill the Holy Decree," reported Voro Nar 'Mantakree, one of Xytan's trusted captains and master of the Second Fleet of Equal Purity, his hand pressed solemnly to his chest.
His tone carried a pride that could not be hidden.
For the Sangheili Honor Guard to be selected for duty within the Imperial Grand Palace itself—such an honor was beyond measure.
Kiana nodded. "Congratulations."
After all, she owed much of her current success to the Sangheili's military achievements.
As Kiana continued asking questions about the world's population, technological level, mineral resources, national divisions, ethnic composition, and historical background—the sort of essential data every governor should know—the discussion grew increasingly detailed.
Then, a teasing voice interrupted:
"Oh, enough already! I told you, Kiana, you're like a nervous bride on her wedding day. You crammed all that political theory on the way here, and now look at you—all stiff and formal. You can't expect to sort out all that information at once. If you keep this up, the sun will set before you're done!"
A silver-gray-haired, red-eyed beauty descended gracefully on a floating sword, waving her small hands as she called for the Valkyries and officers ahead to stand aside.
Who was this woman? Such arrogance!
Some Imperial soldiers who didn't recognize her frowned, instinctively raising their weapons—but seeing that none of the officers reacted (in fact, some even looked embarrassed), they quickly stood down.
"Who is she? She looks familiar…"
Voro Nar 'Mantakree muttered quietly to an Imperial Auxiliary officer beside him.
"Master Fu Hua's junior, maybe? You've probably seen the Edge of Taixuan manual, right? Huh… I trained in the Southlake Imperial Camp—saw someone identical to her, but slightly different. Oh! I remember now—Master Fu Hua supposedly has a younger sister. Drove her half mad, apparently…"
The newcomer wore an elegant, asymmetrical black-and-white robe paired with white shorts and a golden-red belt. Her grayish hair had become a striking blend of silver-white and black, adorned with a phoenix-shaped hairpin. A small diamond-shaped red gem gleamed brightly on her forehead.
It was unmistakably the second daughter of the Fu family—officially registered in the Imperial Population Bureau—Fu Senti.
"Bah!"
"I'm not her little sister! And what do you mean 'drove her half mad'? That old fossil—ugh, never mind. Why am I even explaining this to you?"
Her voice brimming with irritation, Senti huffed, hands on her hips, glaring at the officer who had gossiped about her. "Just wait until we get back. I'll personally enroll every one of you in an advanced Edge of Taixuan training session—and I'll be the one to teach it. Then you'll see whose methods are superior, mine or that old geezer's!"
After finishing her rant, Senti's brow furrowed slightly as she hopped down from her flying sword, planting a hand on her waist and motioning to Kiana. "Alright, alright, enough talk. Just have them compile the data and send it to you later."
"Ugh…"
Covering her face, Kiana sighed helplessly, unable to keep her composure any longer. "I knew bringing you along would cause trouble. Go back to sleep, and don't make a mess of things."
"Pfft! Trouble? Please, I wouldn't even come if it were anyone else asking!"
"Oh, so I should be honored then?"
"Of course!"
Senti spread her arms with exaggerated confidence, striding past the bewildered crowd as if she were the newly appointed planetary governor. Her expression was one of a smug sage who had seen through the world's trivialities.
"Honestly, your term as planetary governor isn't just a week or a month. What's the rush? Besides, this place is still under martial law. The civil administrators haven't even arrived yet."
As she spoke, Senti placed one hand behind her back and gestured for the others to relax. Then, pointing toward the fractured remains of the Wall Maria—its surface embedded with the frozen forms of Colossal Titans—her tone turned strangely enthusiastic.
"Whoa, using Titans as construction material for the walls? Which genius came up with that? I heard your report mentioned some intelligent Titans who can turn back into humans, right? Where are they? Let me see!"
Following the soldiers' gaze, Senti looked toward the line of kneeling captives awaiting judgment.
"Ahem…"
Stepping forward, she cleared her throat, about to speak—
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH—!"
Suddenly, two of the captives—one dark-haired, one blond—jerked violently and collapsed to the ground, letting out inhuman, soul-piercing screams as their bodies convulsed uncontrollably.
"The hell—are you two faking it?!" Senti exclaimed in shock.
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven