"Please grant me your permission!"
Selene could easily guess Esdeath's intentions. It was nothing more than a child growing up—ready to stand on her own and make her mark on the world.
Part of it was her desire to escape Selene's "grasp." Within the Imperial Guard, she had always lived under Selene's shadow. No matter how many times she challenged her superior, she had never once won. Over time, that unbroken string of defeats had inevitably dented her confidence.
Compared to her original self, the Esdeath of today was stronger—far stronger—but she had lost much of her earlier wildness and arrogance, replaced instead by a quiet composure.
And speaking of composure... that was largely Sebas' doing. The old butler seemed to have taken it upon himself to "atone" for not properly teaching young Selene the finer points of etiquette, and thus threw himself into training Esdeath into a proper lady.
The results, however... left much to be desired.
Nowadays, Esdeath practically fled whenever she saw Sebas. She knew the old man meant no harm—he was gentle, patient, even kindly—but the daily lessons in ladylike manners? Those she could hardly endure.
But more than anything else, there was one driving force behind her request—revenge.
Though her father had once forbidden her to pursue it, the fire of vengeance still burned deep within her heart. The hatred of the Partas tribe was carved into her very soul, something she could never forgive or forget.
Once, she had been too weak to act. But now, she possessed both the strength and the opportunity to avenge her kin. To remain idle any longer would be a betrayal of her blood.
For every second her enemies still breathed, Esdeath saw it as a desecration of her tribe's memory. Moreover, after years under Selene's influence, she had come to embrace a similar creed: if you have the power to avenge, then you must act—immediately.
Indeed, if she were to rely on Selene's might and the overwhelming power of the Imperial Guard, she could crush the northern barbarians with ease.
But Esdeath's pride would never allow it. She would accept no borrowed strength—not even from the general who had guided her for years.
"I will personally crush those northern savages and bury them beneath the ice and snow. This is the vow of the daughter of the Partas chieftain."
Kneeling on one knee, her right hand over her left shoulder, Esdeath lifted her head, her eyes resolute. "Please, Great General, grant me your approval!"
"I understand."
Selene narrowed her eyes with a soft smile, reaching down to lift Esdeath to her feet. "I never said you had to stay in the Imperial Guard forever. If you wish to avenge yourself upon the northern tribes, then so be it. It's as good an excuse as any."
"Leading your own army, forging a legion that bears your name... yes, it's a fine thing. Every eagle must one day take flight. Keeping you by my side forever isn't right, either."
"The northern tribes are no minor threat, though. If you wish to conquer them, you'll need time to train your troops. The size of your army will depend entirely on your own ability."
The northern tribes were the strongest of all border peoples—an emerging nation beyond the Empire's northern frontier. They had built fortress cities and amassed more than four hundred thousand soldiers. Since the reign of several past emperors, they had been gradually devouring Imperial territory, until nearly all settlements beyond the northern wall had fallen.
Esdeath's clan, the Partas tribe—once famed for hunting Danger Beasts—had been wiped out by these same northern invaders.
Though small compared to the Empire as a whole, the northern alliance was a formidable foe.
"Do as Honest suggested—withdraw from the Imperial Guard," Selene said with a nod, formally approving Esdeath's departure.
"But remember this: once you leave... I won't allocate you a single soldier or supply. For everything you need, go straight to Honest. Make good use of that fat pig." She winked playfully as she spoke.
Esdeath caught the implication instantly, smiling in return. "Understood. All military expenses shall be... generously provided by Minister Honest."
"Good. We've said all there is to say. Honest's probably getting impatient by now—go give him the 'good news.'"
With that, Esdeath officially rejoined Honest's camp.
"Hmph. Hiding in the palace every day, that fat pig really thinks that having the Young Emperor in his hands makes him untouchable..." Selene muttered with disdain as she watched Esdeath's departing figure.
Whether due to arrogance or madness, Honest had grown increasingly reckless. His once-formidable political cunning and strategic restraint had deteriorated drastically compared to years past. The careful framing of enemies, the lawful imprisonment, the façade of public trials—all gone.
He no longer even bothered maintaining appearances. His methods had devolved into outright slaughter. The Imperial Capital was shrouded in fear—every whisper carried danger, and no one felt safe. Once-prosperous commercial districts now stood half-empty, their decline visible to the naked eye.
Leaving the grand hall of the Imperial Guard Headquarters, Selene paused and looked back. The setting sun bathed the towering palace walls in a crimson glow. High above, the Imperial Palace—the highest point of the Capital—loomed under the darkening sky. As daylight faded, night slowly swallowed its golden spires.
In that moment, Selene felt an ominous premonition—an unspoken truth whispered by the twilight. The Empire's brief resurgence had been nothing more than a fleeting bloom. Beneath its brilliance, decay had already set in. The Imperial Year 1019 marked the beginning of a rapid collapse.
The world itself was regressing. Civilization was in decline, and the World Core was weakening. The opportunity she had long awaited was drawing near.
The more atrocities Honest committed, the more useful he became to her. When the time came for his fall, Selene's purge of him would only make her appear all the more righteous—greater, nobler, and untouchably just.
"Honest... I'll let you live a few more years." She smiled faintly at the thought.
...
Upper City — Habsburg Duchess' Mansion.
Massaging her temples, Selene twitched slightly at the flamboyant sight before her. "Dr. Stylish... please, from now on, you don't need to show me any more reports about your 'Team Stylish.' They're... painful to look at."
"Your prosthetic designs for the army are excellent—both in performance and aesthetics. But why must you always add such bizarre and... let's say, 'distinctive' touches?"
"Umm~ haha! You flatter me, Great General!" Dr. Stylish spun dramatically on one foot in front of her desk, completing a full 720-degree twirl before striking a flamboyant bow. "So then, what does the Great General require of humble me today?"
Covering her eyes, Selene snapped the portfolio shut with a sigh. "Pack your things. You're relocating to the Empire's northern frontier—the Habsburg Province. Sebas has already prepared a laboratory for you."
"...What? Uh... no disrespect intended, Great General, but may I ask why? Isn't the Imperial Science Bureau's current base sufficient?" Dr. Stylish asked, blinking in confusion.
"It's sufficient for now—but it won't be forever," Selene replied flatly. "The resources around the Capital are far too limited to sustain large-scale industrial or military expansion. The north, however, has abundant mineral veins and vast, undeveloped frozen forests."
"Besides," she added, smiling faintly, "my fief lies in the north. I can do as I please there without interference. Our future development will focus on the northern territories. Sebas has already gone ahead to establish the foundation a year ago."
"Any further questions?"