I Am Honkai-Chapter 813: Selene: Woohoo, Perfection!

Clink.

"Divine Dragon Volcanica. I had thought you would present it to My Imperial Hunting Park as some rare exotic beast. I did not expect you to cook it directly—slaughtered, cut, and prepared on the spot. Interesting. Truly interesting."

"Your Majesty, there is more than one rare creature here. If the ’Divine Dragon’ banquet fails to satisfy Your Majesty’s appetite, this humble servant has also prepared a ’Sacred Beast’ banquet for Your Majesty’s appreciation."

"Sacred Beast?"

"Sacred Beast Odglass."

At those words, amid the clinking of goblets, Selene paused slightly. "You truly have treated Me as..." Cough. I am exactly that kind of person. The more the better.

Smiling like a blossoming flower, Selene picked up a slice of chilled dragon skin—soft yet pleasantly chewy. She lifted the layer beneath, where minced earth dragon meat and avian flesh had been marinated together with salted vegetables. After dipping and thoroughly mixing it, she sent it into her mouth.

Today’s Black Templars military banquet was not any standard, orthodox cuisine. One could see traces of French, Italian, Nordic, and other Western styles, as well as Chinese dishes, Indian cuisine, Japanese fare, even alien culinary influences—an extravagant medley.

Or rather, the capital cuisine of the Sacred Selene Empire was itself a grand fusion.

"Lord Leiva, if I heard correctly, you forced a landing, accepted the surrender and oath of loyalty from the Holy Kingdom of Gusteko—and then immediately captured their guardian beast and stewed it into soup. Is that really appropriate?"

Selene’s tone trembled with suppressed laughter.

"Surrender may be conditional or unconditional. And since they have sworn fealty, why cling to their old faith? Would they have our Empire’s appointed administrators, after taking office, submit themselves to the trial and approval of a wild beast?"

Dabbing his mouth with a napkin, Leiva replied modestly, though his face was filled with delight at Selene’s teasing and a faint trace of pride. When he mentioned the guardian beast of the Holy Kingdom, his tone turned particularly cold.

"The Sacred Beast of the North."

Shaving a slice from the dragon’s head meat and placing it into her mouth, Selene chewed while invoking her authority to investigate exactly what kind of ingredient this so-called Sacred Beast would be.

The Northern Kingdom of Gusteko was a theocratic state ruled by the Holy Kingdom. Regional lords and chieftains were appointed by the Order. Though religious in nature, it was not branded a heretical cult like the Witch Cult.

Its supreme ruler, the Holy King, was chosen solely by the Sacred Beast Odglass. The selection process disregarded race, bloodline, achievements, and origin.

In terms of status and power, that influence even surpassed Divine Dragon Volcanica’s hold over the Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica.

Needless to say, it absolutely required rectification.

In a single sentence: under Imperial rule, such an overbearing beast was not permitted to exist.

Her immaculate lashes fluttered. Blue-white streams of data drifted outward automatically. As she sent another few shredded strips of chilled dragon skin into her mouth, Selene’s crimson eyes shone with curiosity—and with a desire to toss that Sacred Beast straight into the pot.

What would you taste like?

"Your Majesty, braised dragon ribs."

Without much further contemplation, as yet another aromatic main course from the full-dragon banquet was presented, Selene cast the matter of the Sacred Beast banquet aside. A duck already in the pot would not fly away.

Skillfully lifting knife and fork, she speared a piece of dragon rib meat—tender, juicy, yet not greasy in the slightest. Paired with lightly steamed vegetables and an unidentified pale-golden sauce, she bit down. The rich aroma that spread through her senses brought her most basic gustatory nerves a simple, unadorned satisfaction.

"Lord Leiva, the East and North are accounted for. What of the southern Vollachian Empire? Have you prepared any special banquet for them?"

"Ah... regrettably."

Faced with Selene’s insatiable inquiry, fine beads of sweat appeared on Leiva’s forehead.

"Your Majesty, unlike Lugunica and Gusteko, which rely excessively upon external entities, and unlike the resource-poor desert nation of Kararagi, which has only recently established itself, Vollachia is famed for the sheer strength of its military power."

"Vollachia has no religion. The law of the jungle is their iron rule. Precisely because of this, without discrimination and emphasizing strength above all, the nation contains a large population of powerful demi-humans from various clans and tribes. Its highly militarized society has rendered magical beasts exceedingly rare—most have already been slaughtered to extinction."

In short: there were no magical beasts in the South of the kind she wished to eat. As for demi-humans—would she care to dine on those?

"It sounds as though you hold Vollachia in high regard," Selene remarked with interest, having no desire whatsoever to consume demi-humans.

"Indeed." Leiva nodded. "If Watergate City serves as the principal palace hall of Your Majesty’s Palace World, then the southern Vollachian region—with its fertile lands, pleasant climate, and stable year-round temperatures across vast plains—would serve as the local governmental seat of that Palace World."

When it came to discussing this subject, Leiva showed no trace of fatigue.

"The people are fierce. They admire strength and strive to become strong themselves. It is the most suitable location for recruiting local auxiliary legions."

"The principle of the strong devouring the weak permeates every aspect of society. The powerful may possess everything, while the weak are freely trampled. Laws are nearly meaningless; most crimes may be pardoned or ignored—if the offender is a powerful national hero."

"Even the crown prince must undergo the Rite of Imperial Selection—where princes and princesses slaughter one another, and only the survivor may inherit the throne."

"Vollachia is also the only region where I do not worry about large-scale rebellion or military coups. So long as we remain sufficiently strong, the Vollachians’ creed—’The Empire’s people must be strong’—can easily be redirected. This ’Empire’ may effortlessly come to mean Your Majesty’s Empire."

Between the lines, it was clear he believed Vollachia’s social ethos aligned closely with that of the Sacred Selene Empire.

Of course, there were differences. The rule of law, absolute imperial authority, and other principles distinctive to the Sacred Selene Empire would need to be physically hammered into Vollachian thought before they could be considered qualified Imperial citizens.

After all, their old custom of testing an emperor’s worth through rebellion was unacceptable.

The Sacred Selene Empire would not indulge you simply because you were strong or accomplished. Dare to rebel, and the Empire would mince three generations of your clan into meat paste. Military merit and noble titles did not grant commuted sentences for crimes such as treason or deceiving the throne.

"What was the Vollachian Emperor’s reply?"

Nodding, Selene swiftly yet elegantly consumed the various delicacies before her.

Chilled dragon skin, salt-and-pepper blue dragon slices, clear-broth dragon meatballs, steamed dragon tail, Spring Silkworm Threads, sizzling blue dragon offal, diced dragon with griffin eggs, boiled blue dragon bones, sour-and-spicy dragon bamboo shoots, dragon tendon and blue dragon head soup, braised dragon chunks, sesame-seared dragon liver, Black Templars dragon ribs, fried dragon tenderloin, roasted dragon skewers...

"He agreed to abdicate, change banners, and accept all conditions. However, he declared he would not assist our forces in stabilizing Vollachia. Everything must rely upon our own army. At the same time, he demands to receive full Imperial citizenship rights in advance."

Leiva said, "I partially agreed. He remains a provisional citizen, but the review period has been reduced to within a single tax year."

"Is that so... An ambitious man, isn’t he?"

Though her lips never ceased moving, Selene’s voice remained orderly and clear. Dragon meat prepared with countless spices and methods mingled between her teeth as she chewed, her tongue lazily sweeping away the sauce at the corner of her lips. Compared to her usual icy hauteur, there was now a trace more languor and a trace less aloof severity.

Selene flicked her silver fork dismissively. Such trifles were beneath her attention. She had neither the interest nor the inclination to snatch detailed implementation matters from her legion commander.

"And what the Empire lacks least are ambitious men."

Leiva answered in tacit understanding. Sovereign and subject exchanged a knowing smile.

Setting down her knife and fork, Selene sipped the aged wine in her cup and praised lightly, "I rather regret setting my holiday so short... Lord Leiva, I truly wish to remain here a few more days. To tour the colonial worlds attached to your Third Legion along the way—take in the sights."

Just as Leiva was weighing his response, Selene’s smiling words made him abruptly lift his head.

Please don’t.

"..."

Bitter inwardly, Leiva could only feel helpless.

"If Your Majesty grows so indolent, old Mr. Sebas will surely regard me as a sycophant. General Budo and the others would scold me to death. Perhaps when Your Majesty returns to the Imperial Capital, you will find a stack of impeachment memorials from those brush-wielding censors waiting on your desk."

With a faint laugh, Selene waved her hand.

"I am merely teasing you. Leisurely hours are always brief. My leave will soon end. The newly opened Palace World you have developed marks the final stop of this journey. But before I depart..."

"I have decided to add a little more weight to your burden as Commander of the Strategic Support Forces."

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Whether to laugh or cry, Leiva did not know. Her Majesty truly ’loved’ this old servant too much—almost more than he could bear. Could she not share some of it with Alex or General Budo? He could only force a wry smile.

"Enough of that for now. I have not yet left."

"Your Black Templars analysts highlighted and strongly recommended that so-called strongest Sword Saint—a knight among knights. He has requested an audience with Me. I find myself mildly interested."

...

Thud, thud.

A fierce wind howled as the black-haired youth stepped down the shuttle’s stairs. His eyelids twitched. Through the orderly rows of unfamiliar purple-gold twin-headed Aquila aircraft parked across the vast expanse, he glimpsed the central spire complex of Pristella Palace.

The central tower stood like a holy lance of radiance cast down by a god. The chalk-white soaring spire pierced the heavens with a transcendent majesty that rejected the mortal world. Luxurious ornamentation adorned every corner. Grand and exquisitely crafted Astartes statues, along with purple-gold tasseled banners, decorated the palace with sacred solemnity.

And the goddess statue standing before the main hall of Pristella Palace was even more breathtaking—every inch masterfully carved. Holding scepter and axe-halberd, it exuded aggression, pride, arrogance, authority, strength, invincibility—just like the Sacred Selene Empire itself.

"Even if I carved for a lifetime, I couldn’t create something like that," Natsuki Subaru silently marveled as his eyes traced the endless intricate patterns along the hem of the Divine Empress’ sculpted gown.

"That is the Empire’s Empress—or rather, a goddess."

The red-haired youth followed close behind, blue eyes fixed upon the deliberately blurred face of the statue.

"Rejoice. This is the greatest honor of your mortal lives."

A nonhuman hand entered their field of vision and shoved their shoulders forward. "Move."

"..."

Without protest, the two fell silent. Under the watch of a Black Templars tactical squad, they passed through layer upon layer of palace gates. Along the way, they saw hundreds—thousands—of towering purple-gold armored giants. Officers clad in full exoskeletal armor with peaked caps and resplendent uniforms were beyond count.

As they crossed a side hall, they saw an execution platform erected upon an islet in the middle of a waterway. A group of non-humanoid mechanical intelligences were meticulously wiping away every inch of congealed blood and shattered flesh. The stench of iron filled their nostrils.

"Subaru!"

Through a partially opened floor-to-ceiling door of a banquet hall, Natsuki Subaru and Reinhard could see their liege—whom they had feared for—sitting unharmed at the feast, watching them with visible concern.

Though he longed to shout a greeting, to reassure Emilia that he was safe, the black-haired youth knew he could not. This was the Imperial Palace of the Sacred Selene Empire. Within these walls, one must never act rashly.

He could not afford to repeat his past recklessness before the Council of Sages. He must not let a lapse in etiquette ruin everything. Bowing his head, his face bearing humility and solemn gravity, Natsuki Subaru strained to recall the etiquette he had learned from the old gentleman and from Ram.

How long they walked, how many gates they passed, he did not know. As they stepped onto a vast platform shimmering with pale light, a halo enveloped him. Natsuki Subaru instinctively closed his eyes.

Hoo... Hoo...

A gentle breeze tinged with moisture brushed his face. A medley of faintly bustling sounds reached his ears, along with a wave of intoxicating fragrance that made his throat bob and saliva gather.

"What is that smell..." he murmured.

The next instant—thud!

"Your Majesty!" ×N

Only then did Natsuki Subaru realize that the giants casting shadows over him had already dropped to their knees, lowering their proud heads with trembling fervor.

Without hesitation, he too fell to his knees with a heavy thump, pressing his forehead to the ground. In that fleeting glance before he bowed completely, he saw within this resplendent aerial garden a white-haired beauty seated high upon the steps—innately noble, supremely exalted—bathed in sunlight as though a divine miracle had descended.

Natsuki Subaru, hm.

Spearing a piece of French red-wine blue dragon liver and taking a delicate bite, Selene withdrew her gaze from the black-haired youth and turned to Leiva. A capable individual—one who had traversed axial worlds. A guide.

Then her eyes shifted to the red-haired youth with the ramrod-straight back.

She would not indulge him. The audience was merely a formality to take him as a dog—to mark that the Empress had been here. It was not to admire his unyielding pride or entertain negotiations.

Favored by the world? Stripped.

Hundreds of blessings? Sealed.

Her gaze pierced him directly. She forcibly usurped the world’s origin, using the world’s own rejection to crush the so-called Sword Saint to his knees.

Only then did she speak lightly, "Reinhard van Astrea, are you willing to serve me?"

Her eyes were cold, seeing through the very depths of the soul.

Now that you stand before Me, your resolve should already be prepared. Executing someone during a meal would rather spoil the mood.

"..."

After a long silence, under Natsuki Subaru’s covert, bloodshot stare, Reinhard finally lowered himself to both knees.

"Our Empress above!"

Perfect.

Satisfied, Selene’s lips parted slightly. Though no sound emerged, Leiva clearly read the words from her lips.

What perfection? Ah—subduing one favored by the world. Conquering the child of destiny.

Her Majesty’s desire to conquer...

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