"You didn't come to see me just because of that earlier disturbance, did you?"
An Xora asked, glancing at the documents in Talulah's hands.
"Yes. These are draft national policies Ursus plans to implement in the near future. Before they're formally issued, they need your review," Talulah replied as she handed them over.
"Why not just send them to Mobius directly?"
"In fact, they did come from Miss Mobius," Talulah explained.
"Most of these policies were proposed by her. That's precisely why I thought they should receive your secondary confirmation, just in case."
"Don't bring things like this to me next time," An Xora said, flipping through the documents briefly before losing interest and handing them back.
"Mobius's opinion is my opinion."
Truth be told, there wasn't much to review anyway.
Neither An Xora nor Mobius were politicians by trade. These so-called policies were largely transplanted wholesale from An Xora's memories, adapted as best as possible to Ursus's current situation.
Naturally, there would be inconsistencies and mismatches. Both of them were fully aware of that.
But it didn't matter.
Ordinary politicians had to balance interests and compromise, tying their own hands in the process. An Xora and Mobius didn't have that problem. With absolute military force—and Mobius's overwhelming scientific and technological capabilities—even policies that harmed certain groups' interests could only be swallowed in silence.
If a policy was "unsuitable," Mobius could simply make it suitable.
As long as the general direction was correct, everything else was trivial.
"Alright," An Xora continued, changing the topic,
"How are the preparations for the coronation ceremony in half a month coming along?"
"Most aspects are going smoothly," Talulah answered.
"Major cities across Ursus—nobles and lords alike—have expressed their willingness to recognize my status and have formally congratulated me on the upcoming coronation."
"But," she added, her expression turning troubled,
"aside from a small number of nobles, the majority—including several grand dukes who control the remaining army groups—are unwilling to attend the coronation in person. Some have even outright refused to appear."
Her frustration was obvious.
Over the past few days, she had been buried in work at the palace day and night, while also being drilled relentlessly by etiquette instructors. Even daily movement required wearing restrictive imperial regalia.
That alone was already exhausting.
And now those nobles were stirring up trouble again.
An Xora, however, was not surprised in the slightest.
Anyone even vaguely familiar with the upper classes of the Arknights world knew exactly what kind of creatures those nobles were. If they didn't cause trouble behind the scenes, that would be abnormal.
Honestly, the fact that the old and new noble factions were even willing to verbally acknowledge Talulah's ascension was already surprising.
And that clearly wasn't out of goodwill—it was fear.
Fear of the two army groups under her command, the Infected forces born from Reunion's expansion, and, most importantly, the now widely rumored Wendigo Legion.
Yet even knowing all that, they still clung to unrealistic fantasies and limited themselves to lip service.
That level of stupidity genuinely refreshed An Xora's understanding of how low intelligence could sink.
…Then again, aside from the Doctor, Terra barely had any pure humans left to begin with.
"If they refuse to behave, then just kill them," An Xora said flatly.
He had zero intention of indulging the nobility.
He told Talulah to compile a list of all nobles unwilling to attend the coronation—and to have them all eliminated before the ceremony began.
"But what about the grand dukes who control the other army groups?" Talulah asked.
"Dealing with them directly could mean another war."
"Leave those to the Imperial Guards," An Xora replied calmly.
"The former emperor 'voluntarily' abdicated, and you're already the de facto next emperor of Ursus. The Emperor's Blades have no reason to refuse your orders."
"As for the exact locations of those dukes, I'll have them investigated and passed to you."
As long as a target's location was known, very few people in this world could resist an Imperial Guard assassination.
And just so happened—An Xora's recently acquired Shadow Troop excelled precisely at reconnaissance.
From start to finish, he never regarded those scheming nobles as a real problem.
And even if, by some minuscule chance, the Imperial Guards failed—
Was An Xora really powerless against them?
His gaze drifted to Jibril, who had been quietly hovering at his side the entire time. A cold smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
If the Imperial Guards failed, he wouldn't mind letting Jibril stretch her limbs a little—erasing the nobles, their cities, and their armies all at once.
Even if those nobles dragged out some legendary behemoth, it wouldn't help.
In fact, the world's behemoths themselves would be better off praying that Jibril didn't suddenly take an interest in them. If she felt inspired to return to her old hobby of collecting the heads of powerful creatures, An Xora certainly wouldn't interfere with his avatar's personal interests.
Given Terra's scale, aside from vague background catastrophes like the so-called "Lumberjack," Jibril would have no enemies here.
If An Xora felt like it, she could single-handedly carve out an entirely new IF: World Destruction Route for Terra.
From Terra's local perspective, that timeline would probably be labeled—
The Laterano Apocalypse Route.
Heh. If a certain old feline knew that something like this had appeared on Terra, what kind of reaction would she have?
Speaking of Kal'tsit…
The Doctor should still be sealed in the sarcophagus, frozen somewhere in Chernobog, right?
Since they were already planning to purge a batch of nobles, Talulah would soon need capable personnel.
The Doctor would be a good choice.
As for whether the Doctor was male or female—
Female would be best.
If male… well, he could just stay frozen in the sarcophagus a little longer.
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