Emperor's Bane

Chapter 732 Interlude: Diary of the Emperor's Niece
My name is Cyrene.

Cyrene-Valantine-Pethon.

Cyrene is my real name, Valantine is the legacy left to me in my childhood, and the third surname, Peisong, comes from my adoptive father, Mr. Orpesson: he adopted me during the Perfect City incident nine years ago, and then brought me to the Far Eastern border.

Overall, this is a decision that is enough for me to be grateful to him and regard him as my real father and relative, although the relationship between us is not actually close: after all, in the past nine years, we have been together less and less, and even the nominal "home" is always empty on weekdays.

But no matter what: Maybe he did sign his name as the guardian on a whim, just to add some color to his boring military life, but after the initial novelty wore off, he did not abandon his responsibilities, but conscientiously prepared everything for me.

I remember very clearly that three days after I arrived at the Aurora, a letter of recommendation filled with the names of various officers carried me directly into the gate of the [Avalon First Military Medical College] located in the deepest part of the lower deck of the battleship: You know, the honorary president of this college is the mistress of Avalon and the entire Far East frontier.

Our principal is a veteran who retired from the Titan Legion. On his chest hang three medals awarded by different Primarchs. Our lecturers are either great scholars renowned in the interstellar world or senior military doctors who have been trained on the battlefield. When we need field exercises, there are always Dawnbreaker warriors to escort us.

They told me that I was the eleventh class of students since the founding of the college: the seniors from the first and second classes had already become leaders in the entire medical system, and among the students taking classes with me were even their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and my teachers would be their parents.

As for the Dawnbreaker who would come to serve as a temporary invigilator during our final exams, he might have the same grandfather as my classmate sitting behind me.

Apart from that, those who can sit on these tables and chairs are either world princesses who are always held in the palm of the hand by some powerful imperial governor, or descendants of mortal generals or even Astartes warriors: although there are indeed quite a few children of officers like me, they prefer the option of being able to go to the front line.

It is not a pleasant thing to get along with these spoiled rich kids. Even though many of them do have outstanding abilities that live up to their surnames, the arrogance and coldness in their characters are difficult to erase: the more noble the students are from, the more they like to use these colleges as their social venues. Many of them may never use the knowledge they have learned in the eight-year course throughout their lives.

After all, for these ancient families who had climbed onto the primarch's coattails a century ago and had not only made great contributions but also made a fortune in the establishment of the Far Eastern frontier, they did not expect their children to really learn anything. These heirs of noble birth were just a signal: a signal that proved that these families still had a place at the center of power.

This was not surprising: the history of the Far Eastern Frontier was more than eighty years old, and even the dullest statistician could see that during this eighty-year span, Mistress Morgan had spent only a handful of years on her home planet, Avalon.

Even when there was no war, Lord Morgan and the core team of the Dawnbreakers were accustomed to living on the Dawn Goddess: this huge Queen of Glory-class battleship was the real capital of the entire Far East frontier, and Avalon was just a vase used to decorate the door lintel.

An obvious argument is this: looking at the power institutions in the Far Eastern frontier, those dignitaries who come from the Aurora are often able to gain greater advantages in the competition by virtue of the lingering mark of the Dawnbreaker, and in turn, make this cycle more stable.

Until now, whether you have ever been gilded on the Dawn Goddess and felt the infinite glory of the Primarch Morgan up close has become a hard benchmark on the road to promotion: no matter how outstanding your ability is, if you are not considered a Dawnbreaker, there will always be an invisible barrier waiting for you.

After realizing this, a large number of elites gradually gathered at the feet of the Spider Queen for various reasons, forcing the already overcrowded Queen of Glory to complete further expansion work, otherwise it would not be able to accommodate such a large population.

As far as I can remember, the Aurora has undergone at least seven transformations in the past fifty years, five of which were undertaken by the Forge World of Ryza: Lord Morgan's allies invested all their energy and wealth with unimaginable enthusiasm, and every transformation made people feel brand new.

Today, I heard that the Aurora is already a behemoth of 33 kilometers in length: in comparison, its equally famous ship, Macragge's Glory, is only 26 kilometers in length, and thanks to the more advanced warp engine, we have more living space than other warships.

How abundant is it?
I, Cyrene, am an ordinary student at the Military Medical College. The only special thing about me is that I am the top student in this class, barely able to beat those monsters rolled out from the hive world: but there is no need to be proud, because those real hive monsters are wreaking havoc in the School of Government and the School of Law.

You know, as a space city cluster with a permanent population of at least one million, the Aurora has more than three hundred mortal academies of various types built on its lower deck alone: ​​although most of them are not very large, real giants like the Mortal Military Academy need to find a safe world to build an additional school.

Originally, affiliated institutions like the First Military Medical College where I was would also be located on a certain planet, but our fate was slightly different because the ownership of our school was specially allocated by the Primarch to the Hunting God Rose Legion under his command ten years ago.

Yes, it's one of the strongest mortal legions composed entirely of women: because the death rate was so high, they had to take in a few additional nursing schools to provide themselves with sufficient medical personnel. It's really a hilarious black humor when you think about it.

But after the black humor, no one can doubt that the Rose Legion has become one of the pillars of Greater Avalon: statues of their warriors stand in the corridors of battleships, and their most heroic sacrifices have been adapted into movies. Even if it is an eight-hour uncut version, there are still many people willing to watch it all at once.

Unfortunately, it was removed from the shelves because its content was said to be too bloody.

But that is not my concern. What I want to record here is my abundance: my home on the Aurora.

In fact, logically speaking, my adoptive father, Mr. Orperson, who was just a mid-level technical officer, did not look like the kind of person who could buy a house on the Aurora, where every inch of land was worth a lot of money. But who could blame him for being an officer loyal to the Queen's Guard?

I expressed some wishes to my boss, took out my receipt, and then made an additional advance payment from my retirement pension, which sounded reasonable. Then I signed a few names and we owned a house of more than 40 square meters.

There is a bedroom, a living room, a separate bathroom and kitchen. From the small balcony you can overlook the Three Daughters Square below. Not only is there free water, electricity and heating, but there is also a generally stable signal source: at least my somewhat old Thinker can support my online purchase of new evening gowns endorsed by the famous singer Ms. Catherine.

This was almost a single room, because Mr. Olpersson didn't come back often, and even when he did, he just slept on the sofa: the most stable communication between him and me was the living expenses he sent me every month, which was deducted from his officer salary. The amount was not small, and I was even eligible to save enough money to pre-order a aircraft for myself on the official website.

However, this did not stop me from planning to find a part-time job on the battleship after my eighteenth birthday: although he did not reveal it intentionally, I knew that in Mr. Olperson's original plan, there was absolutely no such thing as a two-legged money-eating beast.

The fact that I seldom visit this house has disrupted his original leisurely retirement plan: although he was able to buy this room on the Aurora because of his special status as a member of the Queen's Guards and because he was the second most privileged class in the entire Far East frontier, second only to the Dawnbreakers, the specific amount of money was still a considerable sum.

It was nothing, just buying a few square-sized pieces of land on the top floor of the hive city of the most prosperous imperial world except Holy Terra: the savings Mr. Orpesson had accumulated for himself could have supported him to buy an entire basin ranch and then buy the surrounding mountains as a railing, but now, he had to start again from a few small hills.

However, during a long-unseen father-daughter conversation between us, he did not show much frustration about this matter: he could even confess to me with a smile that he never regretted bringing me back from the Perfect City and raising me as his real daughter. "This made me feel alive again after so many years."

This sentence sounds weird no matter how you listen to it.

But there is no doubt that these minor problems did not affect the father-daughter relationship between Mr. Olperson and me. I am not sure when I began to regard him as a real father in my life, but I did notice something was wrong with him.

Inadvertently, his aura always seemed unusually old, and he always liked to talk about things that happened decades or even hundreds of years ago in a joking manner, as if he had seen them with his own eyes: ordinary people might think he was joking, but I think it was very likely true.

After all: don’t we live in a world where gods exist?
If that's the case, what's so strange about an immortal mortal?
I am taking this well.

Maybe others don’t know that I am actually a staunch believer in the Hunting Goddess. This is not because of the influence of the Fierce God Rose Legion, but purely due to my own ideological evolution: Although I have been far away from the Perfect City, the Perfect City in my heart has never collapsed.

Since I became conscious, I have accepted the belief in the God-Emperor and regarded the Lord of Mankind as the only miracle in the world: although this view is not tolerated by the mainstream, the opinions of others are unnecessary, and the only thing we need to care about is our God himself.

And He, the God-Emperor: He answers us before the perfect city.

That is enough: my faith, which has since then been as strong as steel, has only been slightly altered.

In other words, the belief in the God-Emperor still stands tall in my heart, but life in the Far Eastern Frontier has completely changed me. Here I have come into contact with new beliefs. Although they are not the God-Emperor, they are within my tolerance range: after all, they believe in the descendants of the Emperor. Aren’t the descendants of God also worthy of respect?

Hunting the goddess?

Parker Metris?
Or: Morgan?

None of this matters: there is definitely room for the Son and Daughter of God in the Divine Emperor’s faith.

Perhaps when I am older, perhaps when my words are convincing enough, I can make them accept this truth, and get them used to integrating the loose worship of Master Morgan into the correct belief in the God-Emperor: reuniting the Father and the Son at the altar.

But now, it's not the time.

During my eight years of study, I clearly realized that I was not a good speaker who could use words to inspire others. I didn’t even have any close friends. Even Mr. Olperson noticed this and was worried about it.

This is not good. Although there is no blood relationship between him and me, I try my best to be a daughter that can make him proud and her proud, so that he knows that his original choice was not wrong: since I can become the first for this, then I can naturally bring real good friends home.

I don't have much time left.

A few months ago, Mr. Orpesson followed the main force of the Dawnbreaker Legion to Ullanor to attend the Warmaster's coronation ceremony and the subsequent Nikea Conference: It is said that this conference has ended, although no one knows what happened specifically, but Mr. Orpesson will be back soon.

We will be reunited again for a rare family dinner, during which time I will always find a friend, a friend who can make him stop worrying about me.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be such an option on the Aurora: and I'm not even on the Aurora yet.

But there is good news. Based on decades of experience, every time the Aurora sailed to the heart of the galaxy, Lady Morgan would always bring back some new people: since this is a grand event for the entire empire, perhaps she would bring back some real wise men, some people who are truly worth making friends with.

An intelligent man who may have a unique perspective on the faith of the God-Emperor.

After she returns, maybe I'll do some serious searching to see if I can make a real friend.

Then?

Then I gave my father, Olpersson, a surprise that was neither small nor large.

------

Ah... my throat hurts...

I looked at my dad who had just gotten sick at the factory and had gone home to rest, and my mom who had just been infected by my dad and was lying in bed...

……

A bad feeling...

(End of this chapter)