"Najenda, it's been a long time..." Selene greeted her coldly, one hand resting casually on her hip, expressionless.
"Boss, she... she's the Selene?" Boom! With a thud, Leone landed beside Najenda after disengaging from Sten of the Four Rakshasa Demons, speaking in a low voice.
Looking up at the radiant silver-white figure before her, Leone's mind went blank for a moment.
The woman who had just saved Honest possessed waist-length silver-white hair and deep, crimson, diamond-shaped pupils that gleamed with detached indifference. Her features were strikingly refined, flawless to an almost unreal degree.
She stood tall in silver-white thigh-high high-heeled boots that visibly raised her stature by several inches, enhancing the natural length of her legs and the proud line of her posture.
Her exposed skin was as smooth and fair, her shapely form graceful yet powerful, her feminine curves perfectly proportioned. She was beauty incarnate—but her entire being radiated an aura of icy dominance that evoked awe and fear alike rather than the desire her alluring appearance might have suggested.
Year 1015 of the Empire... was it her who saved me back then? Leone thought. I should've known—female officer, white hair, high-ranking Imperial general... It had to be Selene.
Unaware of Leone's thoughts, Selene remained unmoved. The desperate slave girl who had once fled before her was long forgotten. Over the years, she had saved countless lives, directly or indirectly.
It was like remembering how many loaves of bread one had eaten—pointless. Especially since this particular "loaf" had... changed so much in shape.
Drawing a deep breath, Najenda spoke solemnly, "General Selene, our—"
"Najenda, it's been what, years now, since the Southern Province?"
Before Najenda could finish, another familiar voice interrupted her. From the violet glow of the portal behind Selene, Sebas, Arisa, and Esdeath stepped out one after another.
"Esdeath!" Seeing the battle-hungry grin on the ice general's face, Najenda cursed under her breath. Just great—the war maniac came too.
"Hahaha... General Selene, General Esdeath—you've come just in time! These traitors tried to assassinate His Majesty!"
Saved by Selene, Honest—who had nearly collapsed in terror moments ago—suddenly regained his arrogance. Waddling forward, his face twisted with triumph, he pointed at Night Raid and roared in a show of false confidence.
The rolls of fat on his body quivered with every movement, making him look like a grotesque, overjoyed peacock.
Honest, still unaware that the Young Emperor was already dead, assumed he remained valuable—that he and Selene still shared a common cause.
"Night Raid... heh, don't worry. I won't let you die quickly. I'll make sure you understand what it truly means... to live wishing for death!" he sneered, his expression growing uglier by the second.
"General Selene, you should—General? What... what are you doing?"
When no movement came from her, a creeping dread began to gnaw at Honest's chest.
Turning his head stiffly, Honest met Selene's gaze—eyes as calm as a frozen lake. Though emotion stirred faintly within them, it never reached their depths. Staring too long felt like falling into an endless abyss. His breath caught; his blood ran cold.
"Hmm... It seems the good minister has forgotten his place," Selene said with a soft, mocking laugh, glancing briefly at the tense Night Raid operatives before fixing her attention back on Honest.
"Come to think of it, we still have quite a few unsettled grudges between us. You've caused me more trouble than you can imagine... So now, it's time to clean up."
Clean up?
At a time like this, that phrase could only mean one thing—and nothing good. Judging from Selene's tone, it was clear she intended to kill him.
Eyes wide with disbelief, Honest staggered backward. In a panic, he shoved away a nearby guard and screamed, "Sten! Ibara! Save—"
Before he could finish, Selene raised her hand slightly. "You've outlived your usefulness."
Spatial Severance.
Splurt!
Four streaks of black light flashed across the air.
Still mid-sprint, Honest didn't even feel pain. The world around him spun, his vision flipped upside down, and his face hit the ground.
In his final, fleeting thought, one question echoed in disbelief: How dare she?! Then, the agony struck all at once—his severed limbs spasming as his body convulsed and went still.
"AAAAAAH—!" In an instant, Honest's four limbs were severed. Blood gushed uncontrollably from his wounds as his grotesquely obese torso—now resembling a mound of quivering flesh—let out a pig-like scream of agony.
"Selene! Do you... do you even know what you're doing?! I'm the Minister of the Empire! You soldiers have no right to interfere in politics—you have no authority to kill me! I demand to see His Majesty! I DEMAND TO SEE—"
"So noisy."
Bang!
With a mere flick of her finger, a surge of air pressure obliterated Honest's mouth in an instant—shattering his teeth, gums, and most of his jaw. He fell silent, collapsing unconscious where he stood.
Frowning at the stench from Honest's soiled body, Selene hovered above the ground, expression filled with disgust. Turning toward the stunned palace guards nearby, she commanded coldly, "Withdraw. Stay here and you'll only die."
The captain of the guard snapped out of his daze, stammering, "Y-yes, my lady!"
Only moments ago, the General and the Minister had been on the same side—now they were at each other's throats. Whatever this was, the guards had no wish to question it.
"Take Honest with you," Selene added, her voice calm but absolute. "Patch up his wounds enough to keep him alive. I still have use for him."
"Y-yes, of course!" The captain nodded furiously, gesturing for his men to lift the mangled minister and rush him away.
As the palace guards retreated in orderly fashion under Selene's command, the Revolutionary Army soldiers were left frozen, stunned by the spectacle of Imperial elites turning on one another.
Najenda hesitated, then asked cautiously, "General Selene... does this mean you've decided to side with the Revolution?"
Selene pressed a single finger to her lower lip, her tone quiet but steady. "No. That's not it..."
"I told you, didn't I? This is just a purge. And now... it's your turn."
With that, Selene slowly extended her right hand.
Simulation—Repulsion! Power limited, wide-area, instant cast!
"Danger!" Najenda shouted as she realized what was about to happen.
Vmmm—!
From above, viewed from the sky, the faint violet light radiating from Selene's palm spread outward—filling everything in front of her. The next moment, an overwhelming wave of repulsive force exploded in a vast fan-shaped arc.
BOOOOM!!!
All Revolutionary soldiers who had stormed into the palace were swallowed whole by the light.
It was the color of death.
Within the faint purple radiance, bodies disintegrated like paper dolls in a storm. Flesh, blood, and bone were torn apart in an instant—reduced to dust by the raw, unrelenting force.
Chunks of flesh, shards of weapons, and even fragments of Shingu clattered against the shattered stone floor, mixing into a grisly rain of gore.
Red and white sprayed across the air, splattering in chaotic arcs that painted the ground before Selene into a grotesque, bloody mural.
"The vermin have been swept away. Now... only four Teigu users remain."
Suddenly—"Die!"
Thud!
Leone's punch struck out, only for her to realize too late—something was wrong. Her fist stopped mere centimeters from Selene's body.
There was nothing visible before her, yet no matter how much strength she exerted, she couldn't move forward even an inch. It was as if she had struck an invisible wall of steel—unyielding and absolute.
"Why... is the difference so huge?!"
Meeting Selene's cold, crimson diamond-shaped pupils, Leone's confidence shattered. That chilling, abyssal gaze made every cell in her body tremble with primal terror.
At that moment, she finally understood why her boss feared Selene so deeply.
"This feeling... it makes my soul tremble—she's not human at all!"
Run. I have to run, or I'll die.
"Universal Pull."
"No—! Don't—" Najenda's warning turned to a choking cough.
"Leone, was it?" Selene's voice was almost tender as gravitational force yanked the beast-woman toward her. Selene's hand clamped around Leone's throat, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. "An insect... hmm? What's that look in your eyes?"
"You know me? Were we acquaintances? I don't recall... but it doesn't matter. I'll let you die without pain."
With that, Selene's grip tightened.
Crack... Leone's legs twitched violently, then stilled. Her eyes rolled upward, body going limp as her head lolled to one side.
She was dead.
Gently placing Leone's lifeless body on the ground, Selene reached down and pulled the Teigu from her waist—King of Beasts Transformation · Lionelle.
"Leone!" Najenda cried out. In just a single exchange, their strongest close-quarters fighter had been defeated.
"Esdeath," Selene said calmly. "Najenda is yours."
"Selene, you—" Najenda's face twisted with fury, but before she could finish—
Thud!
A blur of blue flashed forward. Esdeath's ice-blue silhouette darted like lightning, seizing Najenda by the throat and slamming her hard into the ground.
"Najenda! Come—entertain me!" Esdeath's eyes gleamed with rapture. Finally—after so long—she was unleashed.
The impact rattled Najenda's entire body, but she recovered quickly. Pushing off the ground with her legs, she twisted up in a sudden counterattack, driving the radiant blade of L'Arc Qui Ne Faut straight toward Esdeath's chest.
But Esdeath didn't even flinch. As the glowing edge touched her skin, a sheen of ice armor crystallized across her body. With a smirk, she swung her leg in a wide arc.
Najenda raised L'Arc Qui Ne Faut to block, the impact ringing out like steel clashing against thunder. Her arms shook violently, her stance faltering.
"Damn it! How is her physical strength this monstrous?!"
Crack... Under the pressure of Esdeath's kick, L'Arc Qui Ne Faut bent nearly to its breaking point.
The next instant—BOOM!—Najenda was sent flying, tumbling nearly a hundred meters before slamming into the palace wall.
"Come on! Keep fighting!" Esdeath roared, dashing after her prey, grinning like a beast set loose.
...
Standing beside Leone's corpse, Selene's tone turned cold. "Sebas, Arisa... eliminate all remaining hostiles."
"Yes, Milady!" ×2
Then Selene's crimson eyes shifted toward the two nearby groups—the Four Rakshasa Demons and the Wild Hunt.
The Rakshasa Demons were familiar faces: Ibara, Suzuka, Sten, and Mez. Of them, Mez—the daughter of Gozuki—was Selene's subordinate, effectively one of her own.
"Mez, take the other three. Guard Honest. Don't let him die."
"Ah... y-yes!" Mez blinked before realizing Selene was addressing her real name. "Ibara, Suzuka, Sten—let's go!"
In a blur, the four vanished from sight. As for avenging Honest... they knew better. Survival came first.
Finally, Selene turned her attention to the members of Wild Hunt. Based on intelligence reports, apart from the alchemist Dorothea, the other four were nothing but depraved scum, each as vile as their late leader, Syura.
"Which of you is Dorothea?" Selene asked.
"M-me," a petite girl stepped forward timidly, her voice trembling.
"Come here."
"Y-yes..." Dorothea approached nervously, keeping her head bowed. "General, I—"
"Imaginary Claw."
A crimson-violet claw materialized beside Selene, stretching past Dorothea's stunned face and enveloping the rest of Wild Hunt—Izou, Cosmina, Enshin, and Champ—in its grasp.
"Wait—General, we're not loyal to Honest! We surre—AHHH—!"
"I don't need 'humans' like you to surrender," Selene said, her tone icy and detached.
If there was even a sliver of redemption possible for the Empire's assassins, Dr. Stylish, or the Rakshasa Demons, then for Wild Hunt, there was none. Their deeds were beyond vile—too twisted even by her standards.
Izou, the so-called samurai with closed eyes and a blade fetish, was the least reprehensible—his only crime was killing for pleasure, claiming each life "purified his sword."
The others, however, were monsters.
Cosmina, with her rabbit ears and star-shaped pupils, was a sadistic seductress who drained men to death for amusement.
Enshin, a pirate from the southern islands, was a violent hedonist—cruel, depraved, and obsessed with torture.
And Champ, the obese clown, was a deranged serial killer obsessed with children—his crimes too horrific to name.
Crack... crack... crack...
With a sound like breaking bones, the four were crushed into a mangled mass of flesh and gore, their bodies fused together until they were indistinguishable—melting into a pool of multicolored sludge that dripped from the Imaginary Claw's glowing talons.
"At the time, there was still one question," Selene murmured softly. "Where's Syura?"
"He's—" Dorothea started to answer, but before she could finish—
A burst of violet light erupted before Selene, forming a massive Yin-Yang sigil in midair.
Then—boom!—a one-armed figure stepped through, shouting furiously, "Who dares attack me, the great Syura?!"