Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 1052 09.1051: 'The Death Whispers of a Generation'

“The people of Polaberia were terrified of this. They were afraid of the colonial governor, but even more afraid of his henchmen who patrolled the country.”

Poniatowski's voice lost its former frivolity and became as heavy as lead.

"While you were in a coma, we tried to set up recruitment stations in Walshar and several other major cities, but no one dared to sign up."

On the third day, our recruiting officers were even turned away—the city gates were firmly shut, and they had even closed all the checkpoints to prevent us from entering.

He paused, seemingly organizing his words for something more brutal.

"As for the countryside... let me put it this way, buddy, apart from the free people in my territory, the vast majority of the Polaberia people in all other places are serfs, with only a small number having redeemed their freedom and become free farmers."

They had nothing while they were alive, and after their deaths, all their possessions, including their corpses, became the private property of the noblemen, not to mention their personal freedom.

He seemed to have thought of something, and an expression of extreme disgust appeared on his handsome face.

"To help you better understand this difficulty, I'll give you some examples that you might find hard to believe—the colonial aristocracy would even herd exhausted male serfs, who had worked all day, naked, into the same cramped shack as equally naked female serfs."

They used whips and starvation to force male and female serfs into sexual relations.

This was to produce more serfs to satisfy their ever-growing, insatiable need for productivity to cultivate more cash crops and fulfill their greed.

Forget about civil rights; in Polaberia, those serfs didn't even have the most basic human rights.

In the eyes of the colonial aristocracy, they were merely human livestock capable of understanding more complex commands; they truly regarded the Polaberians as 'oxen and horses'!

When discussing the appallingly severe human rights situation, Poniatovsky, the usually jovial and witty nobleman who loved to make crude jokes, became unusually serious, his eyes even flashing with an uncontrollable, cold anger. He pointed to his horse's ear and angrily denounced it.

"..."

Horatio didn't speak. He simply turned his head and silently gazed at the training field in the distance with a deep, emotionless look.

There, the half-cat girl Yoyo is putting on a breathtaking "hunting performance" on a meticulously constructed, complex terrain that simulates urban warfare.

She skillfully utilized every inch of shadow and the structure of the building, her petite body bursting with power and agility completely disproportionate to her size, sometimes gliding along the walls, sometimes leaping across rooftops, like a cat adept at climbing.

Meanwhile, her imagined enemies were being eliminated like rats being hunted down. Yoyo had silently ambushed and "annihilated" two small detachments of dragoons, each consisting of twelve men—these were not new recruits, but veterans who had already been tested in several battles.

Even with their long, enhanced hearing, horse ears, the Polaberia soldiers who were there as sparring partners still couldn't catch Yoyo, who was perfectly hiding in the terrain and shadows.

They could only watch helplessly as their teammates were "killed" one by one by training tripwires, clever traps, and silent laser pistols fired from the shadows.

"Wow, cool. Your nimble little demi-human guard is quite impressive." Poniatowski followed Horatio's gaze and couldn't help but let out a heartfelt exclamation.

"Can our recruitment efforts begin on your territory?" Horatio asked calmly, withdrawing his gaze.

“Of course, no problem, brother. Their fathers proved their courage during the first Great Tooth Disaster.” Poniatowski agreed without hesitation, but then frowned. “But, there’s this problem…”

"Would you mind speaking?"

“Thirty-five years ago, the people of Polaberia sacrificed the blood of an entire generation in the first Great Tooth Catastrophe.” His voice lowered again. “This was a world dominated by small-scale farming and with very little industry.”

Labor force is the most important and most valuable resource for every family.

They have already lost most of their land, and if they lose the able-bodied men in their families, many will struggle to survive...

If it weren't for that damned colonial governor's office, perhaps some people would still be willing to pledge their loyalty to the God Emperor.

But now, every free citizen of Polaberia is afraid.

They feared that if they left their homes to join the army, or died on the battlefield, their wives and children would immediately be seized by the nobles and their lackeys and enslaved with cold, hard contracts. This had already happened once after the First Great Tooth Disaster, and no one wanted it to repeat itself.

[Like France after World War I in Earth's history... when a generation dies out, the next generation will instinctively fear war.] Horatio thought to himself.

"But if we can resolve their concerns, I assure you in the name of the Knights of Polaberia."

Poniatovsky thumped his chest, his eyes shining again. "They are the bravest warriors! During the first Great Tooth Disaster, the Stuttgart militia responded to the call and spontaneously formed the largest retinue of our Hunyati Knights!"

They fought a bloody battle against the green-skinned soldiers on the hillside, using their own flesh and blood as a shield, and with steel and courage, they forged the strongest outer wall of the capital, Volshar!

The Astral Army forces that fought alongside them were routed, but they still held on to the death under the banner of the Knights!

They were never afraid to die for honor; what they feared was shedding blood and tears, and not even being able to protect their own homes.

“I understand, brother.” Horatio nodded. “Recruiting soldiers is not mandatory. We operate on a voluntary basis and will pay them full wages.”

Going forward, I will seriously consider the issue you raised, and how to establish a comprehensive support system so that soldiers can serve with peace of mind, including compensation for those killed in action and long-term protection for their families.

"That's right! The military reform faction failed to recruit soldiers in Sintila before because they didn't handle this issue well. As a result, apart from the unemployed who had nothing to do in the city, the vast majority of self-cultivating farmers who owned a small amount of land were unwilling to join the army and go to war in other places."

"If this problem can be solved, people will definitely be more eager to join the army."

"By the Emperor, after all this talk, I'm dying of heat." Poniatovsky exaggeratedly unbuttoned the collar of his magnificent hussar jacket, then his face broke into that same carefree, mischievous grin: "Hey, buddy, how about we grab a drink tonight to celebrate your recovery? It's the best tavern on the planet that I told you about!"

Seeing Horatio's doubtful expression, he immediately added, "Of course, we didn't go there entirely for entertainment! More importantly, to help you understand the local situation in Polaberia from your perspective."

You can meet all sorts of people there, and hear all sorts of unexpected and useful information from their endless chatter.

"Really not because you wanted to drink?" Horatio stared into his eyes and asked pointedly.

“Uh…no! Absolutely not!” Poniatovsky immediately straightened his back, his face serious. “We’re gathering intelligence! While gathering intelligence, in order not to attract attention, we must make ourselves look like normal drinkers. Otherwise, people will be wary of you, right?”

"Alright." Horatio looked at him and shrugged helplessly. "I only have one request based on principle."

"Wear casual clothes, and don't get drunk."

“Of course, no problem!” Poniatovsky immediately beamed, looking eager to try.

(End of this chapter)