Watching the group of prisoners, eyes glistening as they gazed after Kiana, reluctant to part even as she departed surrounded by officers and attendants, Senti folded her arms with a huff of annoyance.
A bunch of short-sighted fools—only able to see the surface.
"You people can't even recognize this immortal's greatness. Do you even realize the difference between your status and hers? She's a planetary governor, and you're just worthless captives—you've got no right to trouble her…"
"Huh? Wait. That sounded like I was belittling myself."
"Look at me! I'm the one who decides your fate—no, no, that sounds like I'm Kiana's servant or lackey. Unacceptable."
As she muttered to herself, Senti noticed the despair and fear dawning on the faces of the Eldian and Marleyan captives, now that the 'angelic' officer's gentle figure had disappeared, leaving behind only the 'demonic' executioner with crimson eyes and a playful grin.
"Ugh, unlucky!"
Without aiming, she casually tossed the two limp "human sandbags"—the Yeager brothers, still twitching from instinct alone—through the air in a graceful arc, landing them before a medical team stationed a dozen meters away.
"These two—half-brothers, Eren and Zeke Yeager—are still useful. It'd be a waste to destroy them. Get them on nutrient support. Using the power of the Titans burns a ton of energy. Don't let them die from malnutrition."
"Oh, and you can remove the chains and cuffs. They've lost all sense of self."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Imperial auxiliary medics quickly lifted the pair onto mobile stretchers, securing them before washing away grime and drawing out their gear—glucose, saline, and high-protein nutrient injections were prepared and administered with practiced precision.
"And as for those Intelligent Titan hosts," Senti added, waving a hand, "now that the leading lady's left, you can take them away too. Tsk, tsk… Intelligent Titans, huh? Notify the Science Bureau. They'll be thrilled."
That bit of instruction seemed to put the prisoners slightly at ease. If she was helping people, that meant—for now—they wouldn't be executed.
Moments later, Senti swaggered back into view, her aura sharp and commanding, but her cheerfulness ruined the tension entirely. With a wicked grin and eyes gleaming like rubies, she spread her arms dramatically. The oppressive killing intent that rolled off her made the crowd of ordinary prisoners tremble and nearly collapse.
"Heheheh—hey, look here, look here! Yes, I'm talking to you lot. Don't bother staring after her—it's useless. Even if you stare till your eyes fall out, it won't change anything. Look at me!"
"Depending on how well you flatter this immortal, I'll decide your treatment! First come, first served—limited slots!"
Everyone immediately understood what the Herrscher of Sentience's power implied.
"Long live Lady Herrscher of Sentience—!!"
"Lady Herrscher of Sentience possesses the most beautiful face in the world…!"
Spreading her arms wide to receive their praises, Senti's crimson eyes shone as pure and clear as rubies.
Pure joy. Pure delight. Pure intoxication.
"The victor's demeanor—never gets old to look at!"
Uh…
Nearby, the battle-hardened soldiers of the Imperial Servant Corps—veterans of countless colonial wars spanning the stars—were frozen in disbelief.
They'd seen every kind of battlefield madness imaginable, but this? This was new.
Why did her whole vibe feel… different from theirs?
The Sangheili warriors gawked, their four-jawed mouths agape. Was this woman truly from the glorious Imperial Capital?
She seemed a little too… different from the solemn, divine, and awe-inspiring figures they imagined.
"Get used to it," one of the veterans muttered. "She's the sister of the Grand Inquisitor Fu Hua, one of Her Majesty's most trusted. Being spoiled comes with the territory. She may act arrogant, but it's all within bounds. Nothing to worry about."
Some high-ranking officers of the Imperial Auxiliary Army, clearly worldly and experienced, covered their mouths to whisper to their comrades, quietly sharing secrets from the Imperial Capital.
A group of soldiers nodded knowingly, listening intently.
Another one with powerful connections straight to the throne, huh.
Damn.
...
Within Wall Sina, the Royal Capital—Mitras.
The city of Mitras was the heart of the Eldian Kingdom—founded by the 145th King of Eldia, who used the Founding Titan's power to command countless Colossal Titans to erect the three walls that defined this world. The innermost wall was named after the first King Fritz's daughter, Sina Fritz.
Naturally, such a sacred place was home to nobles and wealthy merchants.
The city was designed in concentric rings, with the royal palace at its center, radiating outward in perfect geometric order. Streets and buildings all followed the straight lines extending from the palace itself. Nearly every avenue led directly toward the royal grounds—clean, orderly, flanked by shops and stalls selling all manner of goods.
It was a scene that combined the elegant authority of medieval architecture with the rigid beauty of early industrial design.
Yet this once-picturesque city, almost poetic in its splendor, was now occupied by heavily armed soldiers—grizzled veterans bristling with killing intent. Even aliens patrolled the streets, and the roar of metal beasts' engines filled the air, a jarring contrast to the city's elegance.
Everywhere, bodies of the fallen were being gathered and burned, the air thick with an acrid stench that refused to fade.
Cough, cough…
The chill wind of late autumn cut to the bone. Even with her coat pulled tightly around her, Historia Reiss could not stop the shiver that ran through her body as the breeze swept over her. She sneezed softly, caught off guard by the temperature change.
Pale golden sunlight fell over her shining hair, highlighting the soft curve of her features. The slanting afternoon light accentuated the depth of her face, and her sky-blue eyes, gentle and luminous, carried the warmth of compassion.
"Your Majesty," a maid said gently, offering a cup of warm water, "please sit. You are with child—your health…"
"Don't underestimate me," Historia replied softly, accepting the cup and feeling the warmth seep through her hands. Taking a small sip, she stroked her rounded belly.
She was visibly six months pregnant.
"I wasn't just any soldier. I ranked tenth in the 104th Training Corps—and joined Commander Erwin in several expeditions beyond the walls."
Her smile was gentle as ever, a small show of pride to comfort those around her—but the shadow in her eyes could not be hidden.
She gazed toward the enormous breach torn into Wall Sina, murmuring, "To stand on the ground and feel the wind on my face again… it's been so long."
The inner area of Wall Sina was the smallest of the three walls, and also the most enclosed. Since her coronation as Queen of the Walls, it had been ages since Historia last stood beneath the open sky.
The maid hesitated before finally whispering, lips trembling, "Your Majesty… are we going to die? The Yeagerists said the people beyond the walls want every Eldian dead—just because we're the descendants of the Devil of the Earth."
"…." Historia said nothing.
Her body was cold—but her heart even colder.
Eren and the others… had they failed after all?
She didn't know what had happened beyond Wall Maria. She didn't dare voice any complaint or doubt. Not for herself—but for the child in her womb. Her child.
Not far away, Imperial officers stood in small groups—smoking, snacking, and chatting idly as their sharp eyes occasionally flicked toward her. They said nothing, merely observing.
"Everyone, stand to attention!"
A sudden shout broke the uneasy quiet. A decorated officer of the Imperial Auxiliary Army strode forward with a group of Sangheili warriors. Raising his command baton, he pointed toward the dozen royal officials gathered before the palace gates and barked sharply, "Form up! Now!"
"Name and position—report!"
The Imperial officer's tone was sharp and unyielding. The Yeagerist-aligned officials flushed red, their faces darkening—but none dared speak out.
When the enemy's vast army breached Wall Sina, the royal Military Police had briefly considered resisting. But once the invaders fired a single plasma blast that shattered the towering fifty-five-meter wall, all thoughts of defiance vanished.
Though the Military Police held the highest rank among the four regiments of the Walls, in truth, their combat strength was the lowest—a cabal of corrupt bureaucrats drunk on power, oppressing civilians and exploiting the people.
Whatever courage they'd once possessed during their training corps days had long since rotted away in their comfortable complacency.
Expecting them to charge to their deaths, armed only with rifles, against heavily armed Sangheili warriors was absurd.
Not every regiment had the organization of the Scout Regiment. Not every regiment had an Erwin Smith.
"Him, him, her, him… those four. Execute them."
The officer smiled coldly. A wave of the hand—and because of the faintest flicker of resentment on their faces, or a delay of half a heartbeat in their reply—the Imperial soldiers lunged forward like wolves.
"Wai—gah!"
A rifle butt smashed into the face of a portly royal bureaucrat. Bone cracked, an eye burst, and blood sprayed. The man's scream was cut short as a monomolecular blade hissed across his throat, spraying crimson across the stone-paved square. Within seconds, four headless bodies lay sprawled on the ground, their rolling heads bouncing to a stop nearby.
This was the Empire's brutality—swift, absolute, and merciless. The soldiers of the Astartes Second Legion, the Punishers, were infamous for it.
"Ahhh—!"
"Clean that up," the officer ordered coldly, kicking one of the severed heads aside. He turned to the trembling officials. "I'm quite satisfied with the rest of you. Keep it that way."
Then his gaze turned to the most striking figure among them—the glint of gold in the crowd.
"So, you're this world's king?"
"I am Historia Reiss, Queen of the Eldians."
Comforting her frightened maid, Historia stepped forward, maintaining her royal composure. She bowed slightly, showing submission, lowering herself before him. "Forgive me for not performing a full curtsey—I am… with child."
"Pregnant?"
The officer's hawk-like eyes narrowed, studying her for a moment. "The Governor will see you soon. Your fate—and that of your so-called Eldian Kingdom—will depend entirely on your conduct."
"Thank you, sir. On behalf of all Eldians, I express our gratitude."
Her calm, well-mannered, perfectly formal tone left no room for reproach.
"You're impressive," the officer admitted, turning on his heel.
Even some of the Imperial soldiers standing in formation were surprised. They hadn't expected this delicate, seemingly fragile queen to be so composed. Normally, these pampered royal ladies would be screaming in panic by now.
"Your Majesty… you were so brave…" her maid whispered shakily.
"I told you," Historia replied softly. "I was once a soldier. Compared to watching my comrades torn apart and devoured by Titans during my time in the Scouts… this is nothing. At least these men leave behind whole bodies."
Her words were calm—but devoid of warmth. Cold. Frighteningly so.
Suddenly, the sound of boots striking stone echoed from the palace entrance.
Snap!
As one, the Imperial soldiers along the path straightened, weapons raised in salute. There were no cheers—only silence. Efficiency. Perfect, terrifying order.
"…Governor, this is the preliminary report on the island's resource survey."
"The island may be small, but its natural resources are abundant. Aside from standard mineral deposits, we've discovered two unique materials. The natives call them 'Iceburst Stone' and 'Iron Bamboo.' The Forge Division's analysts are impressed."
"Iceburst Stone and Iron Bamboo, hm? Let me see the efficiency readings… that high? So, this Iceburst Stone powers their vertical maneuvering devices—mounted at the waist for mobility. And Iron Bamboo… brittle yet extremely hard—the material for blades capable of slicing Titan flesh."
"Yes, Governor."
"Governor, regarding the situation in Marley—enemy naval, ground, and air forces have all been annihilated. Per your directive, we've broadcast surrender and reconciliation terms globally."
"Marley, the Middle Eastern Coalition, and Hizuru have partially accepted our terms," another officer reported. "But they still harbor hope. I recommend continued assault—push until unconditional surrender—"
"No. Do you want me to inherit a wasteland? Proceed with decapitation operations only."
The bustling chatter among the officers stood in stark contrast to the oppressive silence surrounding them.
"Haah…"
Historia tried to steady her breathing. She knew this moment would decide all their fates.
"Governor."
Through the gathering of officers, Kiana stepped forward, gently stopping the queen before she could kneel.
"No need for that! I don't need a pregnant woman kneeling just to show respect," Kiana said, her eyes like the sea—deep and brilliant—as they met the young queen's gaze.
"Hello, last descendant of King Fritz. I am Kiana Kaslana, Planetary Governor of the Sacred Selene Empire."
...
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