Planet-Killing Means Slamming Immense Power into the Surface
I, for one, don't particularly like seeing people die.
Sis...
Dad was a good man, and he helped us maintain good family relations with my sisters. In most noble families, the wife dies after giving birth to the youngest child, almost like a curse. I'd heard rumors that fathers often get blamed for killing their wives, regardless of whether the youngest is a boy or a girl. I fell victim to that curse too, so I can't even remember my mother's face without looking at a photo.
Even so, Dad embraced me and worked hard to keep things smooth between me and my sisters. That's why, perhaps, I was more anxious than ever.
I have to save Sis...
But in the end, the ones fighting this battle are someone's sons and daughters, someone's parents, someone's family—people I've never even met. What if my sister was in there? That's why I hated watching people die. That's why I hated war.
Fuck...
I desperately wanted to grab my sword and rush off to rescue her right now, but realistically, that was damn near impossible.
I'm so tired...
That's probably why my soul grew weary. If I calculated my cumulative sleep since ascending the throne... Ah, screw it. I'd just feel too sorry for myself.
In that state, I was holding a strategy meeting. In the underground conference room where idol worship had been rampant just moments ago. But this time, the roster had expanded. To the original four legion commanders—Reichenbach, Müller, Hohenstaufen, and Aurora—were added Lilian, the governor from the Human Brotherhood; hardliner leader Gaius; moderate leader Sophia. Including Erisa and her adjutant Kreuz, that made ten people crammed into the room.
"What the hell? Are we some kind of children of darkness? Why's everything so damn dark in here?"
Would saying crap like that boost my authority? If I closed my eyes tight and opened them, I'd probably spark a horned loyalist faction chanting "Long live His Majesty the Emperor! Waaagh!" over some Kanf jjajang.
I quickly flipped on all the lights, transforming the creepy space. Harsh fluorescent glare filled the room, finally revealing everyone's faces. Some had such dark skin they were practically invisible.
I absolutely cannot make that joke about black survival rates in night battles... Hng!
Good restraint on my part. No matter how tired I was or how much I wanted to spout nonsense, I was the emperor. Even if I dreamed of slacking off as a figurehead constitutional monarch, without authority, what kind of emperor would I be? Just a puppet.
Anyway, this meeting with ten battle-crazed marines who lived for evil! war! smash! smash! was bound to be a riot. And I knew full well that nine out of these ten saw me as a god.
Look at this vibe. Was it normal to get this hyped just because I'd shown some personal concern? Logically, for military control, wasn't it better to play the obsessive heroine from a trashy drama—"It's me, that bitch!"—visiting generals and funneling support than waving a sword and threatening them?
If I'd been the previous emperor, I'd have done more personal visits. In peacetime, I'd shower the military with favors from arms manufacturers and such.
Anyway. The problem was in my head. My fatigued brain was looping the same hologram-glitched thought endlessly.
I just want this over with.
This war. And then sleep. The moment I confirmed Big Sis was safe, I wanted to pass out cold.
My plan was simple: Achieve the fastest results with the fewest sacrifices.
With that, the meeting began.
Major General Reichenbach spoke first.
"Option 1: Operation 'Emperor's Sword (Gladius Imperatoris)'!"
"Oh... Go on."
"Yes! While the 1st Orbital Assault Legion pins down the enemy main force head-on, the 3rd Breakthrough Legion flanks to strike their rear cloning factories. Simultaneously, the Guard Drop Legion descends from orbit onto the enemy command above for a decapitation strike."
"Damn..."
Our Major General Reichenbach was a tactical genius. I couldn't help but be impressed. So, while the airborne nuts thought it was a frontal slugfest, the tank-heavy breakthrough legion rams tanks into tanks for some good old tank-on-tank murder. Super romantic, but the name 'Emperor's Sword' already disqualified it.
A plan named after me? Hard pass.
Then Major General Müller chimed in.
"The core of this op is imprinting His Majesty's majesty on the enemy. Simultaneous attacks from front, flank, and sky to send the message: 'The Emperor's sword reaches everywhere—'"
"Ah, fuck no. Insane. Next!"
I shot it down flat, and Müller grumbled, bowing his head in disappointment.
Then, as if to soothe my frayed nerves, Major General Hohenstaufen presented Option 2.
"'Glorious Descent (Gloria Descensus)' operation!! Drop the Leviathan-class Aegis into low orbit to maximize orbital bombardment precision and crush enemy morale with sheer intimidation—"
"That's just lucky planet-kill in the end."
"Ah, busted. Sorry. But for His Majesty's authority—"
"Ramming tanks into enemy tanks while popping out the hatch for axe melee sounds more realistic, General."
"...Oh."
"What do you mean 'oh'? Stop with the crazy plans and give me something reasonable!"
These melee-obsessed lunatics. No wonder the Imperial Army got flak for treating lives like dirt. The rumors were so bad that in the Zeno library's 'Human' section, the most famous quote was [Humans, the species that perfected mass slaughter.]
We needed to at least pretend to be gentlemen. No diplomacy at all? That's just thugs.
"Your Majesty. How about 'Thunder Judgment (Judicium Tonitrui)'—"
"Please, no romantic prefixes in op names. Too childish."
"But the cheesier it is, the higher morale soars, reminding everyone of Your Majesty's greatness!"
"Just stop."
Couldn't they hear? Authority and efficiency were supposed to rise in tandem. Were they the ones shitting on it?
Eventually, my firm rejections froze the room.
Then Governor Lilian timidly raised her hand.
"Y-Your Majesty. We've prepared a plan from the Human Brotherhood—"
"What's it called?"
"Operation 'God's Holy Fire (Ignis Dei)'—"
"Hm. You guys really are human."
She beamed at that.
"Thank you! Chef!"
"That sound like praise to you?"
"Uh— er, sorry, Chef."
"I'll give you credit for trying to act human."
"Thank you, Chef!"
"Sigh. Not praise."
"Sorry, Chef!"
"Still, blending in naturally and proposing plans deserves some praise."
"Th-thank you, Chef!"
"Yeah, just the intent."
"...S-sorry, Chef!"
Too fun trolling her. Imperial authority: intangible, but wielded right, it's OP.
I propped my elbows on the table, hands cradling my forehead.
"Just run drones for a week. That'll yield solid results."
Silence.
"We brought enough suicide drones to blanket the planet."
"....."
Why the shit-eating stares? Not good enough?
As silence dragged, Reichenbach broke it.
"...Drones?"
"Yes. Drones. Specifically, unmanned suicide drones. Post-Machine God loss, mass AI ops were impossible, but we've restored similar levels. With onboard production from battleships and ready stockpiles... Aegis carries about 8 million tactical drones standard. Scatter 'em planet-wide, and they'll ID high-value command targets, close in, and boom. Best part? No Imperial sons and daughters die. Thoughts?"
Gaius, the hardliner leader, asked in horror.
"B-but how will we proclaim His Majesty's greatness?!"
He set aside his Zeno status, asking sincerely. To him, war was a means to proclaim the Emperor's greatness. Quiet drone wins robbed that chance.
I turned to him.
"I'd rather hear I'm not that great if it means fewer Imperial kids die. That's my creed."
The room froze again. The emperor who'd personally visited admitting he didn't need to be great? Contradictory.
The Human Brotherhood trio gasped in unison, shocked.
"I hope you understand why I want living wire. Run drone and minimal-human ops for a week, and we'll... save the admiral, save the planet, win this grand little war."
I pointed at the hologram map, highlighting Human Brotherhood intel.
"I know your worries. I'm a young emperor, less than a year on the throne, from the legitimate Astraea line but still ambiguous. You want heroic tales to solidify my personal legitimacy, even if it means pushing hard. I'm not blindly rejecting that."
I didn't think they were idiots. They cloaked romance in genuine loyalty and concern. The Kanf crew opened with the straightforward drone strat from Sun Tzu, but why dive into that? We had to turn Eldra into Eldgold.
Eldra Union hardliner warlord reinforcements: ~500 ships estimated. Arrival: 1-2 weeks.
"If Brotherhood intel holds, enemy reinforcements hit Forge in 1-2 weeks. We preserve max forces to fight then."
Logical, reasonable, irrefutable top-tier logic. Sure, everyone craved WWE, but I judged now wasn't the time.
"Enemy ground Eldra multiply infinitely with cloning factories. Blind frontal pushes? They replenish via clones; we can't from afar, and attrition loses us the war. Delegate attrition to drones and living wire, preserve human forces."
Textbook strat, really. Unlike my expectation, Eldra went frontal—bit of luck there—but they gambled I'd fold as rootless kid. Too bad; figurehead plans meant no need for excess authority.
"Mass those preserved forces to break the siege around Big Sis and support."
Selene's 1.5 million in her 50km defense line. Lift that siege, front stabilizes; stable, we handle reinforcements.
Reichenbach nodded slowly.
"...Logically sound, Your Majesty."
Hohenstaufen nodded too.
"Minimal casualties plus force preservation... V-very reasonable!"
Lilian still looked shell-shocked but stayed mum in the Zeno-like mood.
Then Aurora raised her hand.
"So, to sum Your Majesty's words: Minimize casualties, use drones?"
"Uh... y-yeah..."
Weirdly level-headed and spot-on. Even a broken clock's right twice a day. First time seeing Aurora rationally summarize. Usually a tank-ramming tank-murder psycho.
I was genuinely touched. War maturing her? She smirked, plotting rationally.
"Exactly."
I nodded approval for my briefly sane sis.
Aurora smiled.
"Got it."
Perfect.
Meeting over, I left first, relieved.
Finally, a rational plan.
While drones auto-farm enemies, I could process papers, sleep, or stare at the ceiling. Auto-hunt mode.
Tonight, some real sleep. Haa...
I didn't know yet this happy thought would shatter.
*****
Post-emperor conference room.
Generals, Brotherhood leaders, and Major Aurora Astraea quietly reconvened.
Aurora confirmed the door shut, stood. Her blank mask cracked, revealing the battle-maniac beneath.
"Everyone hear that?"
Gazes locked on her.
"His Majesty said: Minimize casualties, use drones."
Aurora raised a finger.
"I have a plan fulfilling both while boosting His Majesty's authority. Wanna hear?"
Reichenbach asked.
"What op?"
"His Majesty wants drone decapitation for a week? Right. Drones run as feint. We handle authority and slack simultaneously."
Aurora zoomed the hologram; enemy command blinked.
"True decap needs humans."
Müller frowned.
"His Majesty said minimize Imperial forces—"
"Minimize, not prohibit. If it bugs you, should've said 'no humans'."
"Hah... That's your take?"
"Haha. Who am I?"
Who? Second sis, power after emperor—war hero, family heavyweight. Unbeatable.
Aurora's grin widened.
"I got an elite fixer unit for clean decap in army-scale ops."
Caesar Brigade. Lakadaimon, Spartan, Athenai regiments loyal to her.
"Fixers are few elites. Fits 'minimal humans.' Success rate tops Imperial Army. Fits 'minimal casualties' too."
Logical shell, anyway.
Hohenstaufen asked.
"How deploy specifically?"
Aurora: "Faster than airborne, first to yell 'Long live His Majesty'!"
"Ooo!!!"
"Precisely!"
Aurora stabbed the map: enemy HQ.
"Strap fixers to rockets, fly into enemy lines, drill headshots, ram the base!!!"
"Ooooh!!!"
"Not plain, though. Drones first like monsoon rain, then bam! Us! Lucky? Kidnap and drag 'em back!!"
Reichenbach beamed.
Müller: "Fixers survive rocket impact?"
"Fixer reinforced suits take 11G. Short-range assault rocket accel: 4.8G. Plenty margin."
"Landing impact?"
"No 'landing.' Too cowardly. Ram rocket-first into base."
"......Rocket-first?"
"Said ram. What'd you expect?"
Aurora, matter-of-fact.
Generals thought Ah, Selene's sister? Blood tells, lamented internally—but romance filled the space, rationality gone.
Moments later, Aurora leaned to Lilian, whispering low.
"If Brotherhood steps up here, snag key Imperial posts, yeah?"
Lilian tilted head.
"Key posts...?"
Aurora whispered: "Ma, ham bwarai. You step up, real chance comes."
Lilian's eyes shifted subtly.
"You take world's mo~st! Important role?"
Lilian stared blankly emotionless for 3 seconds. Then grinned.
"Tell more, General."
Five minutes later, Aurora and Lilian nodded, satisfied.
"I have a plan boosting His Majesty's authority with minimal casualties."
Aurora was confident. Damn confident.