The Northern Frontier of the Empire—there was never true peace here. Slaughter and war were the eternal rhythm of this land.
Beyond the endless Great Northern Wall, death was ever-present. Across the vast, snow-covered plains, countless Danger Beasts prowled and scavenged, tearing into the frozen corpses buried beneath the white. Shredded organs and bloodstained bones lay scattered across the wasteland. Even among the beasts, fights often broke out over "uneven spoils," turning each meal into another brutal struggle for survival.
Here, life was as fragile as grass.
For centuries, the northern tribes and the Empire had never truly ceased their war. Bloodshed and conflict erupted ceaselessly across every inch of the border, and with every clash, hatred between the two sides only deepened.
The jagged, ever-shifting frontier changed hands repeatedly, to the point that even the Empire could no longer chart an accurate map of its northernmost territories.
And yet, even in those tiny, unmarked corners absent from the Empire's most precise military charts, the extreme north remained as merciless as ever.
Here, Imperial soldiers and northern tribes waged endless battles for survival—not only against each other, but also against the countless Danger Beasts that infested the land.
Natural disasters and legendary Super-class Danger Beasts continued to threaten all life in the region.
The situation was incomparably complex. Scattered human tribes and countless lives competed for every inch of habitable land. The entire frontier was a massive meat grinder where humans and beasts alike were torn apart. The snow was stained red with the blood of Imperial soldiers, northern tribesmen, and Danger Beasts alike.
It seemed that the only meaning of existence in this place was killing and plundering.
Until the Imperial Year 1015—when Great General Selene was granted dominion over the northern frontier. Her titles, Ghost General of National Defense and Grand Duchess of Blood, struck fear deep into the hearts of all who heard them.
Though skirmishes never ceased entirely, large-scale wars had not occurred for several years. For once, the northern residents enjoyed a rare, fleeting glimpse of what could almost be called "peace."
Whoosh...
A powerful gust swept across the plains, sending snowflakes swirling into the air.
Crunch... crunch...
On the icy wasteland beyond the Great Northern Fortress, a group of five trudged forward in a single file line. Their waists were tied together with coarse hemp ropes, and the thick, padded armor they wore was torn and patched with whatever stuffing could be found—whether cotton or something less pleasant.
The metal plates on their outer armor were scarred with sword marks, claw gouges, and bite dents. Some pieces had even been crudely sewn together from scrap iron, looking as though they might fall apart at the slightest touch.
Each man carried an enormous fur backpack—clear signs that they were Danger Beast hunters, the kind commonly found in the northern territories.
These hunters risked their lives venturing beyond the Great Northern Wall to hunt valuable Danger Beasts, hoping to sell their rare materials for profit.
Occasionally, they even took up bounty work—decapitating lone northern tribesmen and bringing their heads to the military garrisons in exchange for handsome rewards.
Everything they owned was packed into those fur-lined bags.
"Hahaha, Tabby, you're really lucky this time!"
"Blessed by the heavens... A pure-blooded Arctic Marten! Those noble ladies love fur like this. It'll sell for a fortune—we won't have to worry about food or shelter for years!"
"Bobby, looks like you did well too."
"Hah! Took down a Class 4 beast. That alone will earn me a big payout. Shame I'm not a soldier—if I'd done that on the battlefield, I'd at least be promoted to corporal by now!"
...
Perhaps because of their successful hunt, the group chatted cheerfully despite the freezing wind. When the silhouette of a towering structure finally appeared in the distance, the weathered faces of the men lit up with joy that could no longer be contained.
It meant they had survived.
They could finally rest—for a few years, at least.
Before them loomed the Great Northern Wall, its colossal structure built of massive stone blocks. Like a man-made cliff, it split the northern tundra in two.
Though weathered and scarred by time, with its surface pitted and eroded by centuries of wind and frost, to the people of the northern frontier, it remained their eternal guardian.
The city gate beneath the fifty-meter-high wall was nearly eight meters wide. Though the wind howled viciously through the gap, the warmth of safety spread in their hearts nonetheless.
"Haah... we finally made it back."
As they neared the gates, the group of five hunters finally untied the hemp ropes at their waists. They looked toward the familiar sight of Imperial soldiers clad in white winter uniforms—only to pause in confusion.
"Hey... Tabby, look. The insignia on those guards' uniforms—it's different from the usual garrison troops," said Bobby, puzzled as he adjusted the furs slung over his shoulder.
"How should I know? But they do look sharper than the old garrison. Maybe there's been a rotation?"
A traveler standing nearby in line overheard and said, "You've just returned from hunting beyond the border, haven't you? Those aren't garrison troops. They're part of the Imperial Capital's Imperial Guard. Great General Selene von Habsburg, Duchess of Habsburg, will be arriving to inspect the Great Northern Wall in a week. These guards are her advance unit."
"I see. Thank you, friend," the hunters replied, clasping their hands in gratitude. They had, after all, been out hunting for more than ten days.
After entering the wall's inner perimeter, they found a roadside stall and eagerly drank hot soup—something they hadn't tasted in nearly a week. As they rested, they noticed how much stricter the fortress security had become compared to before.
"Never thought someone so high-ranking from the Capital would bother coming to this frozen wasteland," one of them said with a laugh.
Still, their gazes soon drifted to the bundles of fine furs at their sides. The upcoming visit of a Great General meant merchants, nobles, and soldiers—all potential buyers. The value of their spoils would skyrocket.
...
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Northern Province—no, it was now officially the Habsburg Duchy—at Schönbrunn Palace.
"We're running out of laborers. Notify the provincial defense forces to transport more workers from the subjugated tribes."
"Yes, sir."
At the construction site, white-haired elder Sebas observed the half-finished structure with a grave expression, blueprints in hand. "Milady will be here in one week... We'll never finish in time."
The workload was immense—fortifications, palaces, mines, factories—all under simultaneous construction. Even with round-the-clock labor and no regard for cost or casualties, it was impossible to complete everything so soon.
Among all these projects, Schönbrunn Palace was the most complete—and unmistakably Sebas' masterpiece. As the most devoted of Habsburg loyalists, he naturally had his own motives.
After all, he thought proudly, I studied at the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts and the Imperial Architecture Institute. A mere Schönbrunn Palace is nothing to me.
If only there were more time, Sebas would have built replicas of the Pantheon, Hadrian's Villa, and Nero's Golden Palace (Domus Aurea)—each a grand tribute to his beloved mistress.
"Has the banquet hall been finished?" Sebas rolled up his design plans and turned to ask his aide.
"It has. As for the unfinished sections of the rear palace, we've already concealed them with embroidered screens, as per your orders."
"Good. The reception banquet next week must proceed without a single error."
"Yes, sir."
...
At the border of the Habsburg Duchy, along the Tityos River—pre-dawn.
"You filthy swine! Up! Form ranks! Move faster! Anyone slacking off will end up like that fool hanging from the post yesterday! Now move it!"
At the riverside docks, enslaved northern tribesmen—dressed in ragged, dust-caked clothes—staggered to their feet at the sound of the overseer's furious shouts. Exhausted and unwashed, they began another day of backbreaking labor.
Their faces were blank, devoid of spirit, yet their bodies moved instinctively, too terrified to stop. A moment's hesitation could earn them a lashing from the overseer's whip.
Since their tribes had been destroyed, this had been their life for five long years.
A friend who had worked beside them yesterday might vanish the next morning—executed, beaten to death, or simply gone. Some had tried to resist, but now their graves—if any—had long been swallowed by the earth. Worse still, rebellions only brought punishment upon their entire labor squads.
According to Great General Selene's decree, those who survived ten years of service would regain their freedom. Thus, living long enough to reach that tenth year had become the purest, simplest dream in every slave's heart.
The long night finally gave way to dawn. A streak of sunlight pierced the dark horizon, bringing light to the world once more.
By morning, Selene had arrived at the banks of the Tityos River, leading a massive procession. Over a dozen Imperial Guards followed her, carrying banners emblazoned with her crest.
Wanting to personally assess the resources of her domain, Selene had chosen not to teleport directly to the frontier. Instead, she traveled with her entourage, using the Complete Book of the World along the way to record the land's geomantic and energy features.
Reining in her horse by the riverside, Selene had just sent word to the local officials that there was no need for a formal reception. At that moment, Liver returned from his investigation, reporting that all the provincial governors around her territory were men loyal to Honest.
"Honest?" Selene chuckled softly—first with amusement, then with a cold smile. "Well, he's still got some backbone left, I'll give him that. At least he hasn't completely given up on the game... But don't concern yourself with these discarded pawns. One day, you'll have your revenge."
Patting the neck of her white stallion, Selene was about to signal Liver to depart when he suddenly tightened his fists.
"Milady... do you truly intend to kill the Empire's minister?" he asked gravely. "I am willing to bear the weight of my own mistakes. If my vengeance goes unfulfilled, so be it—but I don't wish for you to be branded a traitor."
Selene's voice remained calm. "That's not something you need to worry about. I'm not like Budo. I am Selene von Habsburg."
Across the riverbank, as the Imperial troops marched through in grand procession, countless residents gathered along both shores to watch. Among the crowd, hidden in the mass of onlookers, a few unfriendly eyes were quietly observing the scene.
"Selene von Habsburg," murmured a muscular old woman cloaked in black.
"Master Barbara, should we strike now? She only has a handful of guards with her," whispered the energetic young girl beside her, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"No. We're leaving."
"Why, Master?" the girl asked in confusion.
"Selene has returned to her fief, taking much of her elite Imperial Guard with her. The Imperial Capital's defenses are at their weakest right now. It's time for our Oarburgh assassination syndicate to reemerge from the shadows."
...
"Sebas, you—"
After the grand welcome banquet came to an end, Selene walked through the resplendent halls of Schönbrunn Palace, her expression weary. Through the embroidered screens, she gazed at the sprawling construction site beyond and couldn't help but feel a pang of headache.
"Milady, please look here! Everything has been arranged exactly as in your garden at the Vienna Estate," Sebas said excitedly, his eyes gleaming with pride.
His enthusiasm was almost childlike, like an old grandfather proudly showing off a gift he had made for his beloved granddaughter. It was clear that after a year apart, Sebas had truly missed his mistress.
"Milady, and over here..." he continued, pointing to a three-story palace with a vast balcony overlooking the garden. "It's a one-to-one recreation of the balcony from your Neuschwanstein Castle. You used to love taking afternoon naps there as a child."
Looking at Sebas' kind, smiling face, Selene couldn't help but feel that his actions were understandable. For a man whose family had served the Imperial household faithfully for generations, his loyalty was absolute. For him, everything about his master might not always be perfect—but it always had to be right.
"Thank you, Sebas."
Though she slightly regretted ever saying, "You can handle the palace design however you like," Selene couldn't bring herself to dampen his heartfelt efforts. After all, everything Sebas had done was out of devotion—to make her life more comfortable.
"I'm quite pleased, Sebas. However," she said as she stepped into the shaded pavilion at the center of the courtyard and crossed her legs with languid grace, "using the industrial equipment stored in the Imaginary Space, have the factories reached operational scale yet?"
"Sixty percent complete," Sebas replied, his tone turning serious as he set aside his earlier warmth. "Several production lines are already capable of large-scale output."
"Excellent. Sebas, allow me to introduce you. This is Dr. Stylish from the Imperial Science Bureau, and this is former Imperial General Liver—now one of my retainers. You could consider him your junior."
"Pleasure to meet you, Lord Sebas," said Dr. Stylish, bowing slightly.
"An honor, Steward Sebas," added Liver respectfully.
"Good day to you both, Dr. Stylish, General Liver," the refined old gentleman replied, bowing courteously in return.
After the introductions, Selene gave her next orders. "Liver, stay. Sebas, take Dr. Stylish to see his new laboratory. Oh, and you may share the copied technologies with him—no need to hold anything back. He's one of us."
"Understood." Sebas bowed and departed with Dr. Stylish in tow.
As servants brought refreshments, Selene turned her gaze to Liver, who remained standing stiffly, still uneasy at being left alone with her.
"Liver, I have a mission for you," she said softly. "It may cost your life... but if you succeed, you'll gain power beyond imagination. Do you accept?"
"Your command, my lady!" Liver knelt on one knee, pressing his right hand to his chest in solemn pledge.
"Good." Selene's crimson eyes gleamed faintly. "I want you to go somewhere... and retrieve nine masks."