Imperial Capital Prison.
Deep within the Imperial Prison, Honest tore into a slab of Danger Beast meat with relish. Despite the darkness, the reek of blood, and the suffocating stench that clung to the air, he looked perfectly at ease—almost delighted.
"Ahhhh—!!!"
The piercing scream that echoed from the depths of the dungeon only seemed to please him further. He smiled wickedly and asked, "She's in there, isn't she?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the warden nervously. "That girl has been coming here daily for the past month to interrogate prisoners. Her methods are... exceptionally cruel. More than a dozen convicts have already died under her hands."
"Small matter," Honest said with a dismissive wave. "They're only a few barbarian criminals anyway."
In the deepest chamber of the Imperial Prison, where the worst offenders were kept—mostly prisoners of war from the northern tribes—the air was thick with iron and despair. Chains rattled faintly, and the stone walls gleamed with a perpetual sheen of blood.
Inside one torture cell, an enormous northern tribesman was suspended by his arms. Iron chains pierced his collarbones, holding him aloft. His once-powerful body was covered in countless thin, jagged cuts. Blood dripped steadily from each wound. His tendons had been severed, his eyes gouged out, his teeth torn free.
Standing before him, calmly selecting from an array of torture tools, was a young woman with long, ice-blue hair and matching eyes—Esdeath. Her expression was serene, as though she were choosing between desserts rather than instruments of agony.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Esdeath turned toward the sound and immediately recognized the large, bearded man approaching—the ever-smiling Honest, still chewing on his half-eaten meat.
"Minister Honest," she greeted respectfully, dropping to one knee.
"Rise, Esdeath," Honest said cheerfully. "Change into something more suitable. You're coming with me to meet someone."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Who?"
"The one who defeated you," Honest replied. "Now hurry. The banquet's about to begin."
...
"Minister Chouri has arrived!"
The herald's voice carried across the grand hall as the former minister, now officially retired, entered amidst applause and polite laughter from the gathered nobles.
From her seat on the upper balcony, Selene observed the scene with faint amusement. Watching the nobles fawn and flatter the old man as if they hadn't been scheming behind his back just days ago, she couldn't help but smirk.
So this is what hypocrisy looks like up close... fascinating, she mused. "When you can actually sense people's malice, watching them smile feels almost nauseating."
Then she chuckled lightly to herself. "Although, I suppose I'm not much different."
Selene's gaze drifted over the crowd, her expression unreadable. These sycophants, pretending to mourn Chouri's retirement—they don't realize they'll be next. Once Honest takes control, half of them will be corpses before the year ends.
She sipped her tea and exhaled softly. The man doesn't care whether you're loyal or not. If you've sinned, you die.
Chouri's time had passed. His era was over. The new one—the age of Honest—was about to begin.
I wonder... should I work with him? she thought idly.
"Hmm? Speak of the devil," she murmured suddenly as two familiar presences approached.
"Pardon the intrusion, Miss Selene."
Turning her head, Selene found herself facing a burly, bearded man with an imposing presence—and behind him, an icy-haired girl with a piercing stare.
"Minister Honest," Selene greeted evenly, her tone polite but cool.
"Shh," Honest chuckled, pressing a thick finger to his lips. "I'm not the minister yet... not officially." He grinned slyly. "Isn't that right, General Selene?"
"I wouldn't go that far," she replied calmly, raising her teacup again. "Not yet, anyway."
Honest laughed heartily. "Not yet, hmm? Well, that's only a matter of time, isn't it?"
Selene arched an eyebrow. "Your goodwill is noted... What exactly are you planning?"
At that, Honest's grin widened. He chuckled, clearly pleased. "Ah, now this is what I like—talking to someone who actually understands how the game is played."
Although Honest had lost the initiative to the rigid old fool Budo, he didn't mind. After a month of careful observation and subtle testing, he had discovered something crucial—Selene and Budo were nothing alike. In fact... Honest saw in her something familiar.
A kindred spirit.
Both were ambitious—hungry for power beneath their calm exteriors.
Beautiful on the surface, ruthless within. That was Honest's assessment of Selene.
As for her desires, the reports he received from his spies within the Imperial Guard were illuminating. From what he could gather, Selene wasn't driven by politics or ideology, but by battle itself. Power and wealth were secondary—the thrill of combat seemed to be what she truly sought.
Still, there were plenty of amusing details to note. Because of her beauty, countless noble sons had tried to court her, all of whom were personally thrown out—literally—by her formidable butler, Sebas. Some arrogant fools, emboldened by their family status or political backing, had even tried to force marriage or worse. They, too, were dealt with... brutally.
Honest had even received word that one of his own distant relatives had made such a foolish attempt. Enraged, he ordered their immediate execution and personally visited Selene's estate to offer an apology.
That meeting had marked the beginning of their acquaintance.
Through conversation, Honest confirmed his suspicions. Like Budo, Selene had no interest in politics. Her passion lay purely in the art of war, battle, and indulgence. But unlike Budo, whose discipline bordered on fanaticism, Selene's talent was explosive—obvious to anyone who saw her fight. To Honest, it was clear that her potential could surpass even Budo's someday.
A perfect ally, Honest thought. An ambitious soldier with no political ambition of her own.
So, he made his decision: he would recommend Selene for promotion to general, granting her the chance to win glory on the battlefield—and, in doing so, set her up as a counterbalance to Budo's military authority.
It was a simple strategy: win Selene's loyalty while dividing Budo's influence. Power must never be concentrated in one man's hands. The military would be balanced between multiple generals, while the political sphere... well, Honest would gladly shoulder that burden himself.
Once the old minister Chouri left the capital, Honest leaned back with a self-satisfied grin. "When Chouri finally retires, I'll see to it you're recommended for field command, General Selene. Tell me—where would you like to be posted?"
Selene smiled disarmingly. "Oh, I couldn't possibly presume to choose. I'll leave that entirely to Minister Honest's judgment."
"Hah! You're far too modest, General Selene..." Honest chuckled, stroking his beard.
...
Nearby, Esdeath watched their polite, measured exchange with thinly veiled irritation. "Do people really talk like this?" she muttered under her breath. "It's exhausting. I prefer interrogation chambers—they're much more... satisfying."
Her sharp eyes suddenly shifted toward a distant corner of the courtyard, her expression tightening.
"Esdeath? Something wrong?" Honest asked, noticing her sudden change in demeanor.
But she didn't answer. Her gaze remained fixed, sharp and unwavering.
Selene followed her line of sight and immediately spotted what had caught her attention—foreigners, their distinctive furs and tattoos marking them unmistakably. "Northern tribesmen? What are they doing at this banquet?"
Her crimson eyes narrowed as she observed the scene below. The retired Minister Chouri was happily conversing with a group of northern envoys.
"How curious..." she murmured. "Since when do border barbarians mingle with Imperial ministers?"
Honest smirked knowingly. "Ah, those northerners came to bid farewell to old Chouri. They're worried his retirement might change the Empire's border policy."
Selene's eyes glinted with understanding. "Ah... so this is appeasement, then?"
Honest nodded. "Exactly."
Selene chuckled quietly. "I see. Peace bought with trade and concessions... not my style, but I can't say it's wrong. It's effective, for now. Using the economy to choke the north's lifeline does reduce conflict and saves the treasury some coin."
Her tone shifted slightly, her gaze turning colder. "But it only works as long as the Empire stays strong. The moment it weakens... the same tribes who bow now will be the first to raise their blades."
"Appeasement, huh... our retired minister truly is a saint," she said softly, the faintest trace of mockery in her voice.
At that, Esdeath finally spoke. "And what would you do with the tribes, Selene?"
Selene turned toward her with a small, enigmatic smile. "You'll find out soon enough. Why? Do you hate them that much?"
"Hate them?" Esdeath's voice dropped low, cold as ice. "Yes."
Her father had once told her not to seek revenge—but the flames of vengeance never died within her. They merely slumbered, waiting for the moment to ignite. And one day, they would burn everything her enemies held dear.
Selene smiled faintly. "Then grow stronger, Esdeath. The tribes fear strength, not mercy."
Turning back to Honest, she said calmly, "You brought Esdeath here so I could take her under my command, didn't you?"
"Precisely, General Selene," Honest replied with a grin. "What do you think?"
Selene didn't answer. She simply reached into her coat and tossed a small metal insignia toward Esdeath. "Report to the Imperial Guard's training camp tomorrow. You'll start there."
Honest's booming laughter filled the room. "Hahahaha! Splendid! I like a woman who makes decisions quickly. Then it's settled—General Selene, here's to a prosperous partnership."
Selene raised her teacup slightly. "To a prosperous partnership."
...
Moments later, Honest departed, leaving Esdeath behind.
Both he and Selene were more than satisfied with their meeting. They had struck several verbal agreements—nothing binding, but enough to serve their current goals.
In the end, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Honest, soon to be the Empire's de facto ruler, needed Selene to keep Budo in check. And for Selene, as long as Honest held the reins of Imperial power, his influence would serve as her greatest advantage.
All the world's bustle is driven by profit, and all its striving by self-interest. That eternal truth had never been more evident.