It was an immense aerial garden, filled with blooming flowers and verdant trees, suspended among the colossal pyramid-tiered halls of the Imperial Grand Palace high above the Imperial Capital.
A paradise beyond imagination.
A scene worthy of poets—one to be remembered and immortalized.
Within that sea of trees, a riot of flowers bloomed in full splendor, radiant and alive. The uniquely shaped pavilions, seemingly carved from whole pieces of crystal, stood serenely amidst the greenery. The lower balconies and corridors were adorned with coral-like carvings, their lattice windows painted in soft azure, their frosted glass glowing with gentle, snowy luminescence.
White jade-paved paths wound gracefully through the garden, leading to an ensemble of elegant architecture—pavilions, fountains, and small plazas. Unlike the solemnity and grandeur of the Emperor's audience halls, these buildings exuded a sense of liveliness and charm.
After all, in those vast and overwhelmingly majestic palaces—so obsessed with dignity and authority that they felt uninhabitable—only Selene herself could truly feel at ease.
Each colossal pillar required hundreds to encircle it. Halls large enough to seat a hundred thousand echoed with nothing but the faint footsteps of guards, sentinels, and servants—or the occasional rustle of an official delivering reports. The rest was silence, cold and endless…
Truly, it was not a place for mortals to live. It was suffocating—bereft of life's warmth.
Selene's aesthetic sense had long been the subject of quiet criticism among those closest to her. But this was the Emperor's palace—the face of the Sacred Selene Empire, a symbol of divine authority.
Thus, none dared to oppose her tastes. On the contrary, proposals to further expand the Grand Palace had never ceased within the Imperial Court.
After all, with standards as extravagantly monumental as Selene's—this self-proclaimed "specialist in gigantophobia"—her subjects had nothing to fear regarding accusations of architectural excess. If one could still be accused of overstepping under such standards, there was no misunderstanding about it—you were committing treason.
As for the residential wings and pleasure gardens—well, even Sebas, the ever-loyal butler, disapproved of Her Majesty's design choices.
"Milady, my Empress, my ancestor… why must a simple pavilion be large enough to hold a battalion? Wouldn't it be unsettling to nap or drink tea inside something that vast?"
Working hours spent in those oppressive, magnificent chambers were tolerable. But to live and sleep in them? Even Sebas had reached his limit.
These days, the old butler had moved out of the Grand Palace entirely, purchasing land within the Imperial Capital's palace district and building himself a modest, pastoral estate—simple, peaceful, and full of life—to serve as his private retreat.
His duties as Chief Inquisitor of the Imperial Tribunal were already heavy, and with countless additional responsibilities piled upon him, even he needed moments of rest.
He wasn't made of steel, after all.
The palace indeed contained numerous aerial gardens, floating isles, conservatories, and other places for leisure and relaxation. Yet they all belonged to the Empress alone. Even though Selene had permitted Sebas to use them freely, he had never once overstepped that privilege.
Unless personally invited—or summoned for counsel or official meetings—Sebas always chose to return to his humble estate.
This small, exquisitely crafted aerial garden—the one Selene now rested within—was the result of Sebas' firm insistence. He had argued for it persistently, refusing to alter a single line of his blueprints, until at last it was built.
Within Selene's colossal palace, it was a rarity—like a lone sprout of green amid a sea of titanic stone. Or rather, a sapling in a forest of giants. No exaggeration.
Yet this very garden had become a success.
At least here, everyone could relax a little, free from the suffocating formality of imperial grandeur… well, it would be perfect if only those mismatched tree species were moved elsewhere.
Selene: (No! That's my last bit of stubbornness!)
...
Surrounded by her angelic Flügel guards and the Sisters of Silence, Selene reclined gracefully at the center of the pavilion. Dressed in a simple white formal gown, she shifted slightly, resting her head against a soft cushion beside the low table, lying on her side upon the cool matting as she gazed forward.
Perhaps she was watching the dancing maidens, performing joyfully in the garden celebration—or perhaps her eyes lingered on the strange, exotic trees planted along the greenways.
"Truly, they have no appreciation for beauty…" Selene muttered.
Methuselah trees, Alishan sacred cedars, Socotra dragon trees, wisteria, Orichalcum trees, Yggdrasils, Elven trees, Trees of Light, Treasure Tree Adam, the Tree of Omniscience, the Sunlight Tree Eve…
Each one was a treasure of creation.
Simply looking at them brought her delight.
To have all these rare and wondrous species collected in her own home—to look up and see them whenever she wished—was, for someone with a strong collector's obsession (and perhaps a slight hoarding habit), pure bliss.
Selene pouted, rolling over to take the cocktail that Alyssa had mixed herself after diligent practice.
The first sip filled her mouth with just the right balance of fruitiness and soft alcohol, curling her lips into a pleased smile.
"Mmm… delightful…" She sighed contentedly. "Ah, pleasures such as this—beyond the reach of outsiders."
And yet they had the audacity to suggest she move these precious trees elsewhere. They spoke of balance and restraint—"When water overflows, it spills; when the moon is full, it wanes; when things reach their peak, they decline."
They even said she should at least separate the trees—claiming the mix was too overwhelming, the heights uneven, ruining symmetry and harmony—even asymmetry, they said, must maintain proportion.
Overly crowded? Hmph!
They simply didn't understand the joy and beauty within such abundance.
Separate them? That would ruin the feeling! The impact had to be intense, both visually and sensorially.
Hmm… perhaps she should create another themed garden entirely devoted to flowers, Selene thought with satisfaction.
"Hehe… Your Majesty, how is it?"
Hugging the tray to her chest, the gray-haired girl grinned proudly, one hand on her hip, her tone full of expectation. "Isn't this a brand-new experience even Sebas couldn't provide?"
Realizing she could no longer compete with that old butler on his familiar playing field, Alyssa had decided to open a new one. Since Sebas had never tried cocktail-making, she made it her innovation.
"You really are… too competitive."
Seeing Alyssa's 'praise me! praise me! praise me!' expression, Selene couldn't help but laugh. Sitting upright from her lazy posture, she reached out to gently smooth the girl's slightly tousled silver hair—though her technique resembled petting a cat more than combing.
It felt wonderful.
"Mmm…"
Alyssa instantly quieted down, gazing tenderly at Selene, her bright eyes shimmering as though filled with mist. The affection in her gaze—intense, pure, almost impulsive—made it seem like she might throw herself into Selene's arms at any moment.
"Your Majesty." A soft, timid voice interrupted.
Having just finished a dance, her cheeks faintly flushed, the mermaid princess who had led her people's performance approached. The flowing curls of her long pink hair, adorned with a taiyaki-shaped hairpin, trembled slightly as she curtsied before the pavilion.
Still nervous, her pink-scaled tail swayed uncertainly behind her.
Selene nodded slightly. "Rise."
Then—snap!
"Go on. She's your companion, isn't she? Go encourage her."
Holding a beautifully engraved steel folding fan adorned with phoenix feathers, Selene flicked it open with a crisp clang, the motion half playful, half regal, as she gently tapped Alyssa's shoulder in signal.
"Oh, come on, Your Majesty's just being lazy… ow—!"
Before she could finish, Selene swung the steel fan in a graceful arc, knocking it lightly against Alyssa's head. The sound rang out like a deep bell.
Ouch… Even the onlookers winced.
"Go."
Her half-closed eyes curved in a serene crescent—but Alyssa could sense the sharp command hidden within.
"Going!" she squeaked, nodding rapidly. Rubbing her head, she leapt away from Selene's side.
As Alyssa stepped forward to deliver a short word of thanks to the mermaid performers on Selene's behalf, the Empress' gaze shifted to the next group taking the stage—the Elven dance troupe.
The mermaid musicians had withdrawn, replaced by court instrumentalists bearing instruments of elven make—refined, organic, and steeped in the aesthetics of nature.
Their long robes seemed woven from living vines and leaves, their flowing hair gleamed like spun silver, and their presence exuded a serene, noble beauty as they took their places.
The elven dancers moved like butterflies caught in a spring breeze, their graceful skirts blooming like flowers as they spun. White ruffled collars framed their slender necks, and with poise and perfect balance, they twirled—each motion fluid, elegant, mesmerizing.
At the perfect moment, crystalline streams of water burst from the surrounding fountains, flowing along the white paths that wove through the stage, their sparkling arcs accompanying the rhythm of the dance like birdsong in spring.
Though indoors, the high ceiling seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Beneath its hazy light, the illusion of distant water shimmered, and brilliant flowers bloomed in endless profusion.
Under the glow of countless lamps, their delicate skin gleamed like pearls—smooth and radiant, as if carved from flawless gem.
"Mmm-hmm-hmm…"
Selene closed her eyes in delight, humming softly as her fingers moved idly through the air, as though conducting an unseen melody.
Seeing this, curiosity stirred among the Flügel guards. "Hey… they've all practiced so hard. Don't you have any performances of your own?" one whispered toward the silent golden-armored Sisters of Silence standing along the pavilion steps.
"Unnecessary," came the calm reply. "Our duty is battle. The Imperial Guard are Her Majesty's sharpest blade and strongest shield. Beyond that, nothing else matters."
The Sister of Silence's eyes shifted slightly, glancing at the smaller, fidgeting Flügel beside her.
"So you'll just let them steal the spotlight?"
Even as the Flügel continued to whisper and prod, the Sister of Silence stood immovable—like a statue, sword in hand, silent as stone.
"Big Sis? Aside from reading, maybe we should practice dancing too! If we combine aerial maneuvers, we could put on a performance that'll definitely make Her Majesty cheer for us!"
Unlike the old-fashioned Imperial Guard veterans who defined themselves purely as Selene's sword and shield—or, on occasion, as the mouthpiece of her divine will—the newer Flügel recruits clearly saw their purpose differently.
To them, being merely librarians, soldiers, or sentinels guarding the palace was far too dull. They wanted to do more, especially things that delighted Selene herself.
"…"
Hovering above the right side of Selene's screen, Azril's mismatched blue-and-gold eyes flickered with helpless resignation. Yes, the number of Flügel had grown—but these younger sisters, resurrected from the remains of fallen angels or directly created by Selene, were simply too energetic.
It was both agony and joy—Azril's constant state of being.
They were like excitable huskies, always chirping, always restless.
Still, she couldn't entirely blame them. They were new souls, childish and brimming with curiosity. Though they behaved like well-mannered angels before the Empress, privately they were noisy enough to give her migraines.
Indeed, they needed something to occupy them.
Azril glanced at the elven dancers and then at Selene, who watched with bright interest. After a long breath, she finally said, "Practice."
"Yay!"
Through the Flügel's shared mental network, the news spread instantly. The young angels cheered, their joyful voices ringing across the garden—so loudly that Azril had to take a deep breath to calm herself.
Thankfully, Jibril wasn't here. Otherwise, she might have truly lost her mind.
In the pavilion, Pardofelis hugged the plump cat lounging beneath the table and muttered, "Such a pity Snake-sis and the others couldn't make it… everyone's either on missions or completely booked. Your Majesty, do you like dancing?"
"Strictly speaking, not particularly." Selene's voice was soft as she stroked the furry tail of the cat in her lap.
"Then why watch?"
"To appreciate beauty. Isn't that reason enough?" Selene gestured toward the next group preparing to perform—the Beastkin Alliance dancers.
As they spoke, the elven performers concluded their piece. Amid the chiming of bells and the gentle clash of ornaments, the beast-eared dancers stepped onto the stage. Their soft furred tails swayed gracefully as they moved, their steps flowing in rhythm, sleeves billowing like drifting snow.
"See?" Selene smiled faintly.
"Mhm…" Pardofelis' eyes sparkled as she placed the cat back into Selene's lap, leaning forward slightly, her furry ears twitching with excitement.
Selene chuckled softly, saying nothing, idly waving her fan as her gaze drifted to the next waiting troupes.
Yes… alluring succubi with their beguiling charm; ethereal fairies with graceful poise; gentle, lovely princesses from countless nations; refined noblewomen of scholarly families; and bold, valiant tigresses among the military nobility…
All of them—the living embodiment of her empire's conquests.
In a way, her years of campaigns and victories had borne fruit here—in the diversity of her dancers.
...
An emperor cannot spend all her days buried in paperwork, she mused. After working so hard, I deserve my evening's entertainment!
But just then—
"Your Majesty, Grand Chancellor Sebas and General Esdeath request an audience," a chamberlain reported.
Selene sighed lightly, setting aside her fan. "Allow them in."
Moments later, an elderly man with silver hair entered first, followed closely by a striking woman radiating an aura of icy power.
"Your Majesty," Sebas began, "General Esdeath has formally resigned from her post as Supreme Governor of the Type-Moon Composite Sector. The classification of Colony World II–202149 has been finalized and archived. Dr. Mobius has submitted her preliminary report on Project Planetary Godzilla, and the First Legion's conquest dossier has also been delivered…"
So much for the music. So much for the dance.
—
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