Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 1022 09.1021: 'Night Visit'

"The Imperial Navy's move was ruthless!"

In the heart of Sintira's military headquarters, in an office decorated with oak and brass, the air was stagnant, like lead.

The thick cigar smoke swirled and lingered, casting a dim, yellowish haze over the crystal luminaire shades hanging from the ceiling.

A group of high-ranking generals, mainly nobles from Sintira, sat upright around a mahogany table carved with a double-headed eagle, discussing the Imperial Navy's unexpected and massive recruitment campaign.

The smoke distorted the gloomy expressions on their faces and blurred the jewels adorning their clothes.

"First, they blatantly seized the military merits that should have belonged to us, and now they even want to take over our manpower."

A general stubbed out his cigar in an exquisitely carved brass ashtray, sparks flying as if they were the suppressed anger in his chest.

"A bunch of ignorant, stinking outsiders, daring to come to our Sintira territory to recruit soldiers. Humph!" A noble officer wearing the rank of major general spoke in a sarcastic tone, with an undisguised contempt on his lips.

General Palus's face, heavily made up, grew increasingly somber.

He sat upright on a huge carved wooden chair at the end of the long table, his fingers interlaced in front of him, like a silent stone statue.

Previously, at the Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting, his vote in favor of the Navy establishing an orbital landing force was not out of genuine desire for them to accomplish this.

His plan was extremely ingenious: to use this opportunity to find a roundabout way for the spoiled sons of his family who had tried their best but failed to join the naval officer corps to enlist.

However, the situation developed far beyond his control.

“General Palus, we must stop the Imperial Navy’s reckless behavior!” Rear Admiral Charles-François-Di Mourie leaned forward slightly in his seat, his lips, which still bore the gruesome scars from the reconstructive surgery, trembled slightly with anger along with his entire face.

His cold eyes were fixed on Palus, and he spoke through gritted teeth.

“This move is probably inappropriate,” said another general of the Sintira noble army, the obese Lieutenant General Biron, who held a burning cigar between two thick fingers.

He took a deep breath, the smoke rings lingering long after he exhaled. "Offending the Imperial Navy at this critical juncture would make us seem out of touch with reality. Especially that person in charge, Horatio Cochrane, who's riding high. I've even heard that the state church—the Order of St. Drusus—is interested in establishing contact with this legendary bloodline."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, and his gaze swept over everyone present.

"If we back out now, it will only shake the foundation of our rule in the Calicus sector. If even the state church chooses to side with those 'sans-culottes,' we will be unable to move an inch."

"It is precisely because of your unprincipled and uncompromising approach that we have completely lost the initiative on Minerva!"

Humiliated, Major General Dumourie could no longer contain his rage. He slammed his fist on the table and roared hysterically, "It should have been us, our Sintira noble army, who were the saviors of Minerva! But now! Those 'sans-culottes' are being regarded as their saviors by those ignorant bastards!"

Indeed, ever since the Battle of Minerva, the Imperial Navy's High Lord Colonel in charge of building the new force has demonstrated astonishing initiative, to the point that the entire course of events has deviated from the predetermined path of the Sintira military nobles.

They abhorred the loss of control, just as they had with the previous "riot" that the people called the "Great Revolution".

Rear Admiral Dumurier abruptly turned to Billon, his eyes burning with undisguised hostility: "Don't think I don't know, Vice Admiral Billon! Your two sons and a nephew are all officers in the Imperial Navy. For the sake of your own family's interests, of course you'll choose to be in cahoots with the Imperial Navy!"

"You...you dare to slander me! Major General Dumourie!" The obese lieutenant general's face instantly turned liver-colored. He stood up abruptly, his huge belly pressing against the edge of the table, causing the wine glasses on the table to tremble.

"You despicable opportunist! You have betrayed the common interests of our aristocratic class!"

"You dare to... a mere major general!" "Quiet."

Suddenly, a cold and deep voice rang out, instantly severing all the tense arguments in the room.

The man seated at the far end of the carved wooden table, General Pailus, Commander-in-Chief of the Calesis Sector, slowly raised his eyes. His gaze, cold as ice, swept over each of his trembling subordinates. His hands remained crossed in front of him, his posture unchanged, yet he exuded an undeniable aura of authority.

"Let these outsiders go to Polaberia and build their training base." The man grinned, revealing a sinister smirk.

After a moment of silence, the other Sintira generals nearby seemed to receive some kind of signal and began to sneer. Their suppressed laughter echoed in the smoke, sounding particularly sinister.

“In Sintira, the prevailing ‘republican spirit’ makes it difficult for us to deal with this meddling fellow,” General Pailus’s voice was filled with a playful cruelty, “but once we get to Polaberia, I believe the colonial governor’s office there will show this kid what true aristocratic rule is all about. Right, Major General Dumourier?”

“Of course, General. I assure you, that kid will be in deep trouble,” Dumoulier said with a sickly sneer.

That evening, Horatio arrived at the Rana residence.

This is a colossal building that rivals even the Hood House, its size surpassing it, its grandeur bordering on the absurd. Gothic spires pierce the ochre-colored night sky of Sintira, stained by industrial fumes, while countless gargoyles perch on the flying buttresses, their hollow eye sockets gazing down below.

His claims of "having an appointment" and "an emergency military meeting" during the day were merely excuses to appease an overly enthusiastic woman.

Tonight, his real purpose was to come to Yadviga Rana to seek clues about the Supreme Queen Knight mech he was looking for.

The spacecraft landed smoothly on a small, dimly lit helipad. It was far from the main building, surrounded by towering walls and bizarre alien vegetation.

There were no guards patrolling, nor servants coming and going; the only sound in the air was the monotonous, shrill chirping of alien insects, which made the surroundings exceptionally quiet.

“Miss, I’ve arrived,” Horatio said in a low voice through the encrypted communicator. “Come to think of it, why would I need to make such a furtive nighttime visit?”

"Okay, wait for me there. I'll be right there and explain later." Her calm and steady voice came through the communicator.

"This is your official residence? It's quite impressive. It's even bigger than my governor's mansion in Abyss Harbor." Horatio looked around and exclaimed sincerely, "I can't believe that a 'civil rights fighter' lives in such a residence."

“No, I don’t have my own residence. My brother Jean and I both live in the Lana residence in the Sibelius Nest City’s throne district.”

"This isn't your father's business, is it?" Horatio asked tentatively.

"..."

A barely audible sigh came from the other end of the communicator.

“That’s right. He was a very controlling man who wanted to keep his children tied to him like puppets, to control our marriage, our future, and everything about us. My brother Jean Lannes and I joined the army largely to escape from here.”

When Horatio first arrived in this world, he thought that the "autistic girl" Falida, who was an untouchable, and the hot-tempered and impulsive Hood family were enough to overturn his understanding.

Looking back now, it seems that he had a very superficial understanding of how outrageous these bizarre families in the universe were.

"Have you figured out how to find clues?" Horatio asked, lying on the soft leather sofa.

"I've arrived, get off the vehicle," the female colonel said.

(End of this chapter)