Qlipoth Fort, Supreme Guardian's office.
The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife—though, of course, the sudden drop in temperature might also have been caused by the low pressure unconsciously radiating from a certain acting Supreme Guardian.
"Bang!"
A frontline deployment map was slammed hard onto the thick solid wood desk, making the ink bottle next to it jump.
"Get the Fifth Battalion to retreat immediately, right now, this instant!"
[Cocolia] rested one hand on the desk while rubbing her throbbing temple with the other. Her purple eyes were practically spitting fire, and her voice was squeezed through clenched teeth, carrying an air of incredulous rage.
"Which brain-dead idiot gave the order to station them in that godforsaken place?! That's the doorstep of an Rift creatures's lair! Are they there to defend, or to deliver takeout to the monsters as a snack?!"
Below her, the Silvermane Guards messenger, a young man, was cowering, wishing he could shrink into the cracks in the floor. His voice was as thin as a mosquito's: "R-report, my lady... it... it was you... er, it was the order issued previously..."
"I ordered it?"
[Cocolia]'s voice rose sharply, then she seemed to choke on her own words. She slammed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, her eyes were filled with the indignation of "I really don't want to take the blame for this, but I have to."
"...Damn! (A type of Belobog plant)"
She wiped her face vigorously, as if trying to scrub off the stupidity of her predecessor (who was also herself), and then began to correct the errors at lightning speed:
"First and Second Battalions, change your scheduled patrol routes immediately and head at full speed to the Northwest Rift to support and cover the Fifth Battalion's withdrawal! Tell them to run fast! Don't look back! Drop whatever gear you can!"
"Order Commander Gepard to hold the frontline gate at all costs! Not a single step back! Also, drag over all those engineers who spend all day researching automatic singing machines and glowing floor tiles! Tell them that within three days, I want to see blueprints for practical defensive equipment that can be installed on the city walls! Don't talk to me about aesthetics; I want practical gear that can smash a monster's skull!"
The messenger recorded furiously, his hand shaking so much he nearly flung his pen away.
At this moment, a logistics officer tremblingly handed over a report and added in a low voice: "My lady, the engineers say... researching new equipment requires additional funding, but currently the treasury..."
"No funding?"
[Cocolia] raised an eyebrow, interrupting him, and then revealed a smile that sent shivers down one's spine.
"Simple. Stop all the 'cultural activity funding' planned for this month—the'Starlight Ball,' the 'Aristocratic Hunt,' the 'Vintage Art Appreciation,' and so on—for all those useless lords and ladies! Not a single coin left! Allocate it all to the Engineering Department, specifically for defensive research!"
The logistics officer's eyes widened: "B-but my lady, those noble lords certainly won't agree. They will protest, they will..."
"Protest?"
[Cocolia] laughed out of sheer anger. She even picked up the heavy decorative metal warhammer from the side with one hand, easily weighing it in her hand, the hammerhead slicing through the air with a dull whistling sound.
"Have I become too weak to lift this 'Everwinter's Oath,' or have those nobles, soaked in honey and soft to the bone, gotten too arrogant?!"
She slammed the warhammer onto the floor with a "thud," making the floor seem to groan in protest. Her voice was resolute, carrying a chill of negative forty degrees:
"Pass on my order! For the crime of 'delaying military operations and endangering the safety of Belobog,' raid the homes of any nobles who lead protests or refuse to cooperate! Confiscate their assets and use them for city defense! Just as well, I was thinking the city walls weren't thick enough anyway!"
The office fell into a deathly silence, with only the faint hum of the warhammer's lingering vibration.
The messenger and the logistics officer's legs were trembling, but in some corner of their hearts, a strange sense of satisfaction and... relief? surged up.
This irritable, tough, clear-headed, decisive, and merciless Supreme Guardian—to both enemies and parasites alike—might be scary, but compared to the previous one who was becoming increasingly cold and distant, and issuing incomprehensible orders, did she seem to offer more hope?
"Yes! I will get it done immediately!"
The messenger practically roared it out, then scrambled out of the office, his speed rivaling that of someone running for their life.
[Cocolia] took a rough breath, rubbed her throat which was aching from excessive shouting, and instructed another attendant nearby: "Also, go and change the wanted posters. Revoke the order for those 'visitors from beyond'—the one with the gray hair and her two companions—and change it to... hmm,'Specially Appointed Foreign Aid,' for now."
The attendant bowed without a ripple of emotion: "Understood, my lady."
After all, they had witnessed too many "subversive" orders today; revoking a wanted poster was just a minor incident.
"Phew..."
When everyone had received their orders and left, and the office door closed, [Cocolia] felt as if all her strength had been drained in an instant. She "collapsed" into the large Supreme Guardian's chair, like a lump of melting ice cream.
She weakly rested one hand on her forehead, feeling as if her brain had been trampled by a herd of ice-field bears.
The plan had been good: infiltrate, knock out the original, take her place, and immediately issue an order to lift the blockade between the Upper District and Lower District, and everyone would be happy.
And the result?!
She glared at the mountains of battle reports, fiscal deficit statements, and bureaucratic squabbling documents piled on her desk... her blood pressure soared, shooting straight through the roof.
The frontline deployment was riddled with holes, the logistics were a complete mess, and the nobles were still frantically sucking the blood of the city!
It was a miracle that the sinking ship of Belobog hadn't gone under yet!
She now seriously suspected that the Stellaron lived on "despair" and "chaos," which was why it had led the original toward the path of brain-dead command.
Lift the blockade? If she did that now, the brothers in the Lower District would likely be overrun by Rift monsters before they could even make it up to the Upper District, and then everyone would be finished!
"If the internal threats are not removed, how can we face the outside..."
She muttered to herself, and could only grit her teeth and move the wish of "immediately liberating the Lower District" to the to-do list item labeled "after I've scattered the ashes of all these parasitic nobles."
Exhausted, she decided to call for external support.
Closing her eyes, she attempted to establish a link in her mind—this was a vague connection between these "summoned characters" and the "original" Stella, usually requiring both parties to focus their minds, similar to encrypted shortwave communication.
[Stella, Stella! Respond if you receive this! The Upper District... is temporarily under control! I've knocked out the original, and now I'm playing the role of the irritable version of the Supreme Guardian to clean up the mess.]
She recited in her mind.
After a while, a clear but distinctly bewildered girl's voice sounded directly in her mind:
[Huh?! Cocolia? How... how are you speaking inside my head?! Is this some kind of new skill?!]
[Cocolia]: "..."
She nearly slid off her chair.
[You... didn't know we could communicate like this?]
She was incredulous.
[I didn't! I've never tried it! This is so cool! It's just like telepathy in sci-fi novels!]
Stella's voice was full of wonder, even a little excited.
[...]
[Cocolia] suddenly felt even more exhausted.
So this kid was still in the ignorant exploration stage regarding her own abilities and those of the summoned characters? She felt as if she could see herself needing to double as a "newbie guide" in the future.
[Anyway! The point!]
She forcibly dragged the conversation back on track.
[The surface situation in the Upper District is temporarily stabilized, and I am cleaning up the internal trash. You can prepare to come up, but don't make a big scene!]
[Okay, okay! We've been ready for a long time!] Stella responded enthusiastically.
[Remember! Don't bring too many people! Keep it low-key!]
[Cocolia] emphasized again.
[I haven't officially abolished the blockade order between the Upper District and Lower District yet. This involves too much; I have to wait until I've thoroughly purged those goddamn noble factions and stabilized the frontline! Announcing it now would only cause more trouble!]
[OK! Understood! We'll sneak into the village, and no shooting!]
Stella used a strange tone she had learned from who knows where.
[...Alright, keep in touch.]
[Cocolia] cut off the mental communication, let out a long, deep sigh, and buried her face in her palms.
Playing the tyrant (aristocratic version), reorganizing the military and government, and having to moonlight as "system" customer service to explain abilities to the original...
This job as "acting Supreme Guardian" really is low pay, high stress, and far from home; high position and heavy power, but with dangerous responsibilities, and the key is—there's absolutely no salary!
She glanced at the gloomy sky outside the window, then looked at the mountain of official documents on her desk, resigned herself to sitting up straight again, picked up her pen, her face filled with the tragic spirit of "Time to work overtime, wage slave."
"Alright, next... which idiot suggested using Preservation crystals for landscape lighting in the noble villa district? Don't think I won't rip the roof off your house and use it as a city wall brick!"