"That girl Senti… why does she have to add her own commentary while extracting thought memories? It almost sounds like a storyteller's narration. Is this her hobby?"
"That won't do. As a conqueror, such subjective and biased remarks will inevitably lead the Imperial garrison to mock both the Marleyans and the Eldians of Hange Zoë's faction, which will in turn cause discrimination and suppression."
Imperial soldiers were already arrogant by nature—a group of militarists who could kill without batting an eye.
Seeing these personal, emotionally charged evaluations that Senti had added, one could imagine the consequences. The troops would likely shoot every single member of Hange's faction—those cowards who discarded their own nuclear deterrent to curry favor with outsiders.
In their eyes, anyone not of the Empire was hardly human. Yet even they were still human beings—with joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. Once the Imperial soldiers stationed here acted under the influence of such preconceptions, Hange's faction might not produce a single citizen who could pass the Imperial examinations.
"What we need is equality. The conflict between Marley and Eldia, the clash between the Yeagerists and the Hange faction, the disputes of the natives—none of that has anything to do with the Empire. Our duty is to give them equal opportunity, and find those who can create value for the Empire."
"Once they have made their choice, only then will we deal with those who refuse to cooperate."
With the aid of the internal system AI, Kiana completed her directive as Governor, making minor adjustments before final approval.
Only then did she close the holographic files compiled by Senti using her authority—such as The Ancient Nation of Marley, The Power of the Titans, The Secret History of Marley and Eldia, Attack on Titan—Yeager, and The Devil's Descendants—The Fritz Royal Lineage. All of them were verified to be authentic.
The specialized ground-effect aircraft raced across the sea route from Paradis Island toward Marley's capital. Seated by the broad, square window, Kiana could already see the faint outlines of the continent ahead—brown soil, gray-white manmade structures, and patches of green vegetation interwoven into a single vast landscape.
Looking up, she saw the horizon shrouded in smoke. Kiana could clearly make out the faint lights, dark ruins, and thick plumes of smoke rising from the coastal city ravaged by war…
As the aircraft drew closer, she peered down through the window at the fearful residents below, trembling at the sight of the approaching Imperial craft.
"Inevitable wear and tear…"
Under martial law, the confined citizens queued for their daily food rations. Startled by the thunderous roar of steel machinery or the sudden solemn demeanor of the Imperial soldiers distributing supplies, they realized—the one who would decide their fate had arrived.
One by one, their empty, numb eyes lifted toward the ground-skimming, majestic vehicle that sped past—grand and imposing, as if a thousand chariots and ten thousand riders were moving together.
But the instant their gazes met the pair of beautiful azure eyes behind the glass—eyes glimmering with some unfathomable emotion—curiosity, defiance, resignation… whatever prompted them to look up, every single one of them instantly lowered their heads.
For they instinctively felt that locking eyes with a conqueror was an act of grave disrespect.
It would mean death.
Silently withdrawing her gaze, Kiana's face remained expressionless—neither a smile nor a frown. She simply accepted the cocktail handed to her by her household AI, serving as bartender, and drained it in one smooth motion.
The walls of the aircraft cabin were lined with thick padding and specialized vibration-dampening and soundproofing materials. Even at supersonic speeds, there was hardly any turbulence to be felt.
In this regard, the Empire's provisions for its military nobility, high-ranking officials, and governors were beyond reproach.
Knowing she disliked human attendants, they had arranged for such a household AI instead.
"…Alcohol… So this is what you usually drink? It doesn't taste good."
A dense sweetness lingered too long on her palate, and Kiana frowned slightly.
"Governor, is there anything unsatisfactory? This is the sangria cocktail prepared per your request—made with blood orange, lemon, lime, apple…"
The fruitiness and subtle taste of alcohol filled her mouth instantly…
The sensors sharply caught the faint change in Kiana's expression—the subtle look that meant a negative review. The household AI stepped forward to take the empty cocktail glass and inquired politely.
"No, it's nothing. I'm satisfied. It's just… a personal matter."
Shaking her head, Kiana interrupted the question. Her mind wandered to a certain red-haired woman who loved drinking but always failed her dates. A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
"…Aunt Himeko, I think I'm beginning to understand how you felt. Taking care of a bunch of troublesome, mischievous students like us must've been exhausting."
Closing her eyes in faint nostalgia, Kiana leaned her chin against her hand by the window and said softly, "Do you have that Japanese beer called 'Ryoma Sakamoto'?"
"Yes, Governor. Would you like me to prepare it for you?"
"No, save it for next time. Prepare some mouthwash instead."
"As you command."
Watching the household AI go about its task, Kiana leaned sideways, sinking deep into the leather seat as her gaze fell upon the slowing aircraft below—the crowded streets and squares filled with orderly lines of people.
Instead of taking a gunship or a high-speed transport vessel, Kiana had chosen this massive ground-effect aircraft for the journey from Paradis Island's first Imperial outpost to Marley's capital. It allowed her to observe the world directly with her own eyes.
She wanted to measure this land herself—with her sight, her presence, her will.
This was her land. Her world. Her people. Her governorship.
Though temporary, Kiana considered it perfectly natural to think so.
As long as one followed Imperial law, a regional governor of the Sacred Selene Empire was, in essence, little different from a feudal monarch—holding both military and administrative power in their domain.
It was very much like the feudal system of medieval Europe—the vassal of my vassal is not my vassal.
The only difference was that the central government of the Sacred Selene Empire retained the right to intervene in local affairs. And the Empress herself—Selene von Habsburg—was the nominal, legal, and factual owner of all things. Everything one had was granted by the Empress; one merely governed on her behalf.
Even if such governance was permanent, it was still 'on behalf.'
"Practice is the best way to elevate one's understanding."
Kiana half-opened her eyes, tapping her temple lightly as she murmured, "Now I truly understand why Sister Selene's domineering personality still inspires so many to serve her willingly."
The answer—power.
Yes, overwhelming strength was the foundation. But even the crumbs that slipped through the fingers of Selene's infinite authority were enough to feed others—or even make them burst from excess.
What greater temptation could there be?
This was a feeling that those who had never held power could never comprehend.
She hadn't fought the battles herself. She hadn't slain anyone. Yet from Paradis Island to Marley, everything within sight bowed before her. None dared meet her gaze.
It was the framework known as the Sacred Selene Empire—the extension of Selene's will and power.
Her own position within that framework was high enough to rely completely on the Empire—the true tiger—while she merely borrowed its majesty.
Had she been alone, even with her exceptional strength, she could never have achieved this.
When power and strength merged perfectly, complementing one another, the resulting chemistry was terrifying—and Kiana had witnessed it firsthand.
The Sacred Selene Empire was precisely such a monster.
Kiana was not foolish. Far from it. Back in St. Freya Academy, when a certain twin-drilled classmate jokingly called her a "paramecium," it was only because she refused to think too deeply. During her years of wandering, she had appeared reckless because she simply had no choice—because she carried too much on her shoulders.
Life within the Empire, aside from the occasional moments when her own principles put her at odds with herself, had actually been far more relaxed.
When the sky falls, there will always be someone taller to hold it up.
Her only duty was to execute orders—to complete her missions.
Her career as a diplomat had already granted her a wealth of experience—completely different from her days at St. Freya or during her wandering years.
Now, as Planetary Governor, her new responsibilities had brought yet another layer of understanding.
Flying low along Marley's coastline, inspecting her territory, Kiana had found herself deep in thought.
If not for the supplementary lessons arranged by her elder sister Selene, and the careful instruction of Sebas and the other palace tutors, she might very well have made a fool of herself by now.
Many of the lessons she once thought useless now proved indispensable. Back then, she had only been a passing figure—a temporary guest in the Astartes Legion's planetary conquests and the Empire's colonial expansions. During the grand military ceremonies, she had merely played a supporting role.
Now, on this Colony World II–202149, she was the main character. The land may have been small, but she was the only protagonist here.
What once seemed unnecessary knowledge was now vital.
Without experience, secondhand understanding was always hazy—like a blind man feeling an elephant.
Bzzzz—
The faint vibration signaled the ground-effect aircraft's engines powering down as it descended to hover.
Guards opened the hatch. After rinsing her mouth and wiping her lips, Kiana stepped out first, her stride firm and steady. Surveying her surroundings, she then turned slightly to stand beside the door, offering a composed military salute toward the Imperial garrison stationed on Marleyan soil.
"Salute!"
Those with noble titles removed their hats in the aristocratic fashion, while the untitled officers gave the standard military salute. Kiana, accompanied by her advisory and secretary teams, proceeded toward the Marleyan Parliament Building. Silence reigned along the way.
Standing at the very heart of Marley's power, Kiana felt an overwhelming surge of ambition well up within her.
If she truly wished to make this world a better place—
She needed to keep learning.
She needed to keep growing.
She needed to keep getting stronger.
And at that moment, the first spark of ambition—the desire for glory—ignited within her heart.
She needed more power!!
"Sister Selene, I will achieve it!" she declared silently to the heavens above.
Had any of Kiana's old friends from her carefree St. Freya days seen her now, they would have been astonished by the sharp determination in her eyes—a fierce ambition she had never possessed before.
At that moment, a voice interrupted. "Governor, this is an urgent joint order from the Imperial Central Ministry of Internal Affairs and the War Department."
Kiana blinked. "Read it."
"Colony World II–202149—classification confirmed and registered as: Conscription World."
"That's it?" Kiana's eyes widened.
"That's all."
"..."
Her soaring determination deflated instantly.
She hadn't even submitted her full reports yet—on mineral resource surveys, land potential assessments, population censuses, industrial and agricultural productivity analyses—and the War Department's military bureaucrats had already stamped a classification on her world?
Based on her own inspections, this planet was a newly developed frontier world, its industrial era barely past the internal combustion engine. The total population, after preliminary counts, was under one billion—not a huge number.
It should have been classified as an agricultural world—mainly producing agricultural, fishing, and mineral goods with light processing industries. That way, she could meet the Empire's tax quotas while maintaining a relatively high standard of living for the natives.
But a Conscription World… with fewer than five billion people, how was that even viable? What kind of conscription could be sustained with so few?
Forget about happiness—this was a death sentence!
Everyone knew that within the Empire, almost every colony world possessed its own auxiliary army corps, varying greatly in strength.
For example, the 18th Astartes Legion's Salamanders governed the 11th Resort World—an exemplary balance of local adaptation, famous across the Empire for its cuisine and tourism. Yet its auxiliary forces were notoriously small and weak.
Some auxiliary corps within Conscription Worlds, by contrast, had divisions larger than entire planetary armies—ranging from tens of millions to hundreds of millions of troops.
Mass production.
Conscription Worlds were dedicated almost entirely to recruitment. Their main planets and surrounding satellites were covered in training camps and war factories. Aside from military industry and basic services, all other industries were virtually nonexistent, relying on off-world imports for supplies.
There were, of course, worlds that prioritized quality over quantity—but that was another matter entirely.
Arms folded, Kiana rubbed her chin, and an unbidden thought surfaced—the enemy is in the Capitol Hill.
"No, no, impossible… Which bureaucrat from Internal Affairs or which Director-General from the War Department would bother targeting me?"
Shaking away those absurd suspicions, she took the file and began flipping through it.
"The Power of the Titans, Coordinate Space, 'The Paths,' the Eldians, manpower source…"
She realized the document carried no further explanation. Every page bore the same few scrawled words—"Routine procedure."
But when she looked closer, between the lines, she could almost read the hidden message:
I'm watching you, little paramecium. Focus on the important parts, and do your best.
...
Honkai Dimension — The Imperial Capital Grand Palace.
"La la la…"
Humming an unknown tune, Selene cheerfully finished processing the day's state affairs. Her true body now lounged comfortably—left hand stroking a "cat," right hand petting a "dragon."
"Well then, Your Majesty, are we finally done with today's duties? Where shall we go hunting next?"
Nibbling on the delicate pastries freshly prepared by Chef Susanoo, Alyssa's sky-blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
Taking the canned treat from Pardofelis' fluffy arms, Selene rubbed the soft, plump belly of the contented feline and replied, "No rush, no rush… hmm, tatakae?"
She suddenly stopped, narrowing her eyes. Her rare moment of solemnity startled both the cat and Pardofelis, causing their fur to puff up.
"…Your Majesty?"
"No, it's nothing. Just… one of my post-meal shows has ended. It's break time—come on, let's keep eating, keep playing."
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