Chapter 178: The Mission of the Missionary Ship

The bloodthirsty warriors were an advanced form of bioengineering, far surpassing the capabilities of the palace guards.

However, due to the use of forbidden blood rituals, the process demanded an exorbitant cost in lives and was fraught with uncontrollable variables.

Halis despised anything beyond his control—much like his own erratic emotions.

The risks of the project were equally significant. If the Imperium discovered it, the retaliation would be catastrophic.

Thus, years ago, Halis had sealed the technology away.

But now, faced with an ever-growing threat, he could no longer afford to hesitate.

Besides, the Imperium could no longer interfere with Martila.

He could freely conduct any human experiments or employ any forbidden techniques without restraint.

Fixing a cold gaze on the black-robed Tech-Priest, Halis commanded:

"Go. Use your skills as you promised. If you fail, you know the consequences!"

The Tech-Priest smiled with a twisted expression, his crimson eyes brimming with barely contained excitement.

He had prepared for this moment for years, and now his grand creation would finally be unveiled to the world.

"Everything shall proceed as you wish, my lord..."

With a graceful bow, he retreated.

The dimly lit royal court grew silent once more, leaving Halis alone in the darkness.

He preferred this oppressive gloom.

To his augmented vision, night and day were indistinguishable.

The heavy sound of his breathing echoed in the hall, the mechanical lungs of his throne pumping faster.

Halis recalled the earlier court meeting, a trace of doubt surfacing in his mind.

That sycophant from House Evira—the fat fool—had suggested deploying the entire battleship fleet.

Such a proposal was deeply suspicious.

Could he be colluding with the rebels?

"Damn that fat pig!"

Anger flared in Halis' chest at the thought.

He pressed a button, and a palace guard emerged from a hidden compartment, kneeling before him.

"Your Majesty."

"Go. Execute that fool from House Evira!"

The guard nodded and retreated into the shadows.

The palace guards, composed of shadowy assassins, were embedded across the hive cities, with operatives stationed in nearly every noble estate to monitor their activities.

Any sign of rebellion or a direct order from Halis could result in a swift execution.

Should anyone attempt to resist, their entire family would be eradicated by the palace guards.

This ruthless system was the foundation of Halis' reign of terror. No one dared defy him.

Those who lacked fear of death had long since perished.

Of course, this method of governance carried a fatal flaw.

If Halis ever lost his ability to instill fear, his power would collapse.

The ensuing backlash, the repressed rage of the masses, would tear him to pieces.

Halis was fully aware of this but had no path of retreat.

Only relentless pressure, more slaughter, and ever-deepening fear could sustain his rule.

House Evira Estate

The corpulent noble sat in his meditation chamber, trembling with unease.

His body quaked, and his face was etched with terror.

Whenever he recalled the serpent-like glare of the Emperor that morning, his heart threatened to stop.

The gaze of the Governor, once his childhood friend, felt like the devil's hand clutching his heart.

Suddenly, as if reaching a decision, the noble shut his eyes tightly.

Moments later, a worried noblewoman entered the chamber, only to let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Royal Court Hall

Blood pooled on the floor, and the lifeless bodies of a few servants lay scattered.

They had been attending to Halis, cleaning his body and changing his clothes for the night.

Halis' breaths grew heavier, his mind consumed by an insatiable desire for slaughter.

He longed to kill, endlessly and indiscriminately.

But he could not fully succumb to this forbidden urge!

Using the last vestiges of his rationality, Halis pressed another button.

Hiss—

The throne's internal pumps activated, injecting a large dose of specialized sedatives into his system.

Hoo~

As the sedatives took effect, Halis regained his composure.

Since that fateful prayer, the desire for bloodshed had haunted him relentlessly.

But he was a ruler, not a beast!

To suppress these impulses, Halis periodically administered massive doses of the sedatives, even though the drugs severely damaged his body.

After calming down, Halis felt a pang of regret.

Perhaps he shouldn't have ordered the fat noble's execution.

After all, House Evira was one of the few families still loyal to him.

Moreover, the family had always been under surveillance, making betrayal unlikely.

The cursed bloodlust had once again clouded his judgment, even eroding parts of his memory.

As a human ruler, Halis refused to become a puppet of Chaos. He believed he could control his desires.

Deep down, he convinced himself that he was merely using forbidden power, not submitting to it.

Calling for the palace guard to rescind the execution order, Halis was too late.

"Your Majesty, the target is dead."

The guard added:

"The execution order wasn't carried out. The target committed suicide by poison and left behind a confession letter."

"I see."

Halis grabbed the letter delivered on a hover tray, waving the guard away.

His expression was unreadable.

A fleeting memory surfaced: childhood days spent with the fat noble under the watchful eyes of their elders, visiting an agricultural world.

They had chased each other through wheat fields and watched river piranhas—an adventure beyond the hive cities.

Flames flickered.

Without reading the confession letter, Halis set it alight.

It didn't matter anymore. The man was dead.

Urth, Spire Residence

Eden shared lunch with Shahim and Miliah in the dining hall.

Today's main course was grilled meat from a Scelob beast.

The two eight-year-olds ate with glee.

Only at Uncle Eden's table could they enjoy such delicacies.

The Scelob beast, a massive fire-breathing creature, had been discovered by colonists on Kanda.

After confirming its edibility, transport ships had brought it back.

The Agricultural Research Institute named it the Scelob beast, declaring it highly valuable for farming and consumption.

Eden had even gone to see one.

The creature measured 11 meters long and 6 meters tall, resembling a fire-breathing T. rex.

And it tasted fantastic.

Like tender steak, it was juicy and delicious.

Once domesticated, the beasts would be mass-bred to provide meat for soldiers and citizens.

Eden also wondered if genetic or mechanical enhancements could turn them into biological weapons.

"Imagine a T-Rex knight," he thought.

After lunch, Eden had the siblings sent back to Loyal Sons Academy, then reclined on a chair to digest and browse his datapad.

According to Inquisition files, Deville had begun undergoing bioengineering surgery.

After returning from the underhive, Deville had applied for the risky Thunder Warrior augmentation.

The procedure was costly and required a sanctified body to resist defects.

Even then, the mortality rate was close to 30%, limiting the program's expansion.

Eden had considered rejecting Deville's request but ultimately approved it after Deville's persistence.

He hoped his loyal subordinate would survive the operation.

In the future, the Inquisition would split into specialized branches, such as the Ordo Malleus, Ordo Hereticus, and Ordo Xenos.

Many members would undergo similar augmentations to face greater challenges.

After reviewing the Inquisition documents, Eden's thoughts turned to the missionary ship.

Due to the failure of Warp lanes, the ship had to travel at sublight speeds to Martila.

After over three years, they should be arriving soon.

The fanatics aboard the ship bore a critical mission.

Beyond spreading faith, they were to infiltrate the hive cities, unite Martila's rebellious factions, and gather intelligence on enemy defenses.

When the time came for the attack, they would sabotage defensive arrays and activate psychic navigation beacons, guiding the Dreamlight through the Warp to Martila.

Humanity's Golden Age ships could withstand Warp turbulence but required navigation beacons to avoid getting lost.

Currently, the Dreamlight could only make short jumps within a system.

Traveling to the Imperium's holy sites without torches or warp lanes would take centuries of navigation.

Suddenly, Eden sensed information relayed through the hive network by the missionaries.

The missionary ship had arrived near Martila's capital airspace!

(End of Chapter)

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