The northern border of the Empire was a land of eternal ice and snow.
Blood stained the endless frozen plains crimson.
Crack! Crack!
Hundreds of enormous ice spikes erupted from the ground, instantly skewering the last remnants of the foreign tribe's elite forces. Their screams were carried briefly by the freezing wind before being sealed forever beneath layers of ice.
The foreign tribe was completely annihilated.
At the heart of the battlefield, upon an iceberg formed from piled corpses, a breathtakingly beautiful woman lounged on an ice throne. Long ice-blue hair cascaded down her back, her posture relaxed yet overflowing with pressure.
The Empire's strongest general—Esdeath.
She idly twirled a bloodstained saber, her icy-blue eyes hollow with dissatisfaction.
"Too weak," she said coldly. "The northern tribes aren't even qualified to make me warm up."
At that moment, an Imperial messenger hurried up the iceberg on a panting warhorse. He dismounted, knelt, and presented a secret letter sealed with top-level wax, hands trembling.
"General Esdeath! An urgent decree from His Excellency the Minister!"
"An S-rank emergency has occurred in the Imperial Capital! You are ordered to return at once!"
Esdeath tore open the letter.
After reading just a few lines, her pupils contracted slightly.
Then a chilling, fanatical smile spread across her lips.
"Oh?"
"In a single night, over a thousand fully armed Military Police elites slaughtered without warning?"
"Even Night Raid defeated and captured in its entirety?"
"And black demonic flames—without the use of an Imperial Arm?"
She rose to her feet. Her heels struck frozen flesh with crisp, echoing taps.
A suffocating killing intent swept across the ice plains like a storm.
"Hahahaha! Wonderful!"
"Finally… a prey worthy of me."
Her cheeks flushed faintly—not with warmth, but with an overwhelming thirst for battle.
She swung her saber downward.
"Pass on my orders. The Northern Legion breaks camp immediately."
"Target: the Imperial Capital."
"I will personally meet this monster—and crush him beneath my boots."
---
With the Minister's highest decree issued, the Empire's war machine roared to life.
Elite troops, assassin organizations, and hidden Imperial Arm users were mobilized at once. Like countless rivers converging into the sea, they surged toward the Imperial Capital.
The city itself fell into panic, nerves stretched to the breaking point.
Two days later.
Inside the Imperial Palace's secret conference hall, the doors opened.
Esdeath strode in, dressed in a pristine white military uniform, her presence alone forcing the air to freeze.
"General Esdeath! You've finally returned!"
Minister Honest rushed forward, relief written plainly across his bloated face.
For two sleepless days, dread had gnawed at him. Even though the white-haired monster in the Count's manor had not moved, the pressure of his existence was enough to drive anyone mad.
"You look exhausted, Minister," Esdeath said indifferently, taking a seat and crossing her long legs.
"How could I not be?" Honest wiped sweat from his brow. "Any scout who approaches within five hundred meters of that manor vanishes without a trace!"
"I hereby appoint you Supreme Commander of the Imperial Subjugation Force! You may mobilize any troops and any Imperial Arms you wish!"
"I want only one thing—his head!"
Esdeath laughed softly.
"Boring. He's just a slightly bigger insect."
"I'll freeze him solid and display him in the Palace Square."
Her confidence finally steadied the Minister's nerves.
Trying to curry further favor, Honest forced a smile. "General, what reward do you desire? Gold? Territory? Slaves?"
Esdeath rested her chin on her hand, considering.
Then, surprisingly, a faint blush appeared on her face.
"If I must choose… I want to fall in love."
"P—Pfft!"
The Minister sprayed wine across the table, eyes bulging.
"F-fall in love?!"
Esdeath stood, placing her cap back on.
"Those weak nobles aren't worthy."
"I'll find the one myself."
She left without another word, leaving the Minister stunned.
---
At the Imperial Palace training grounds, elite Imperial Arm users gathered from across the Empire.
Esdeath's gaze swept over them like a blade.
"Too weak. Trash. Useless."
One by one, she dismissed them, until only a handful remained: Kurome, Wave, Bols, Run, and Dr. Stylish.
"These will do," she said.
"From today on, you are my personal force—the Jaegers."
"Your mission: eliminate the mysterious powerhouse in the Count's manor."
---
Meanwhile, at the Revolutionary Army's hidden base outside the capital, tension ran high.
"Najenda, Akame, Mine, Leone—no contact at all!"
"They must have been captured!"
Night Raid was the Revolution's sharpest blade. Losing them was unthinkable.
From the shadows, an orange-haired girl with headphones stepped forward.
Chelsea.
"Leave it to me," she said calmly. "I'll infiltrate the capital and find out what that monster really is."
---
Countess Aria's manor.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Uchiha Tobirama opened his eyes and stretched lazily.
"That was… an acceptable rest."
He drew back the curtains and frowned slightly at the bright sky.
"Two days already?"
Behind him, several exhausted figures lay unconscious on the oversized bed, their condition silent testimony to what had occurred. Tobirama sighed, rubbing his temples.
"A waste of time," he muttered, though the faint satisfaction in his eyes betrayed his words.
Whatever had happened over those two days was left unspoken—reduced to silence and aftermath rather than detail.
Rising, Tobirama pulled on a black windbreaker and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. In the distance, the Imperial Palace stood tall, symbol of decaying authority.
"The warm-up is over."
"In two days, that Minister must have gathered everything he has."
A cold smile curved his lips.
"Good."
"I'll tear this rotten Empire out by the roots."
——————Author——————
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