Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 1079 (09.1078): 'A Brief Moment of Childcare'

A cold wind swept across the training grounds of Stutzianchi, bringing dust and the smell of gunpowder from the battlefield.

Yadwiga stood before the soldiers of the newly formed First Half Brigade, her voice drowning out the wind and the muffled gunfire in the distance.

"Today, we are leaving these relatively warm barracks to embark on an unknown journey."

Her breath condensed into white mist in the morning chill.

"You've all seen it, the flames of war are ravaging the land beneath our feet..." She paused, as if the suffering of that land had reached her. She sighed.

"Although a significant portion of you are volunteers from Sintila, once you put on this uniform and joined this community, this place is now also your home."

Her sharp gaze swept across the ranks, the soldiers' faces appearing exceptionally clear in the morning light.

"I've heard. I've heard that you often form rather isolated little cliques among yourselves because of your different backgrounds." Her voice turned cold. "But listen carefully—we are an army, not a gang of thugs!"
The nature of the Imperial Navy's orbital landing force dictates that it cannot be composed of any particular race or gender! Its raw materials must be diverse and composite!

This arduous journey may, however, become the driving force that unites you all, a scattered group, into a cohesive force. Dismissed! 15 minutes to prepare!

The soldiers standing before Yadviga exchanged bewildered glances. Most of them were Polaberia—veterans of the Newland Dragon Riders and newly recruited soldiers from Polaberia.

The remaining 40% or so were commoners from the hive recruited by Sintila. They were not nobles and had never enjoyed any favor from Sintila. Many of them had even participated in the Revolution, but for various reasons, they ultimately failed to join the Republican Guard.

But the Polaberiaians did not like to communicate with them. To these descendants of knights whose homeland had been occupied, all the Sintiras were the same—wicked and untrustworthy.

A sense of alienation and indifference permeated this newly formed unit like a virus. Before this, it was only through Valina's ruthlessness and Krieg's strict discipline that they were forcibly brought together.

No one knows what these people, forcibly bound together, will be like on the battlefield after leaving the supervision of those elite soldiers.

And this was her first task and mission as the leader of the troops, Jadwiga.

The shouts of officers and the clanging of equipment soon echoed across the drill ground, while the palace became increasingly quiet.

Due to the deteriorating situation, those precious Thinker arrays and databases have been moved into the underground fortifications of the Orbital Landing Force training base.

The palace belonging to the Wadsław royal family once again became empty. Its location, compared to other places, was not as strategically significant—perhaps this was precisely why the old royal family had chosen it as a hunting lodge.

However, it is still necessary to leave a company of soldiers behind to guard against possible bandits or deserters.

Horatio, carrying the disassembled telescope, entered a spacious room. This had once been Jadvig's living room, now temporarily converted into a nursery. Scattered on the floor were some small wooden toys.

That warm, lacquered wooden cradle, intricately carved, is said to be an ancient artifact that nurtured two generations of the Wadsław royal family. Now, a baby who does not belong to this royal lineage rests here—it is the best baby care item Jadwiga could find in this now-ruined palace.

Albert slept peacefully in his cradle, unconsciously sucking his fingers. Whenever a seismic shell landed in the distance, the dull tremor would cause his soft, white eyelids to flutter slightly.

But the incessant cannon fire failed to wake him. He slept peacefully amidst the echoes of the conflict. Little Horace was slumped over a small table at the other end of the room. In front of him was a Gothic script book that Lina had prepared for him, and he was tracing the letters. His handwriting was childish and crooked, clearly not being taken seriously.

When Horatio pushed the door open and entered, little Horace was startled and immediately ducked forward, trying to cover something with his little arms.

Horatio saw all of this small gesture.

He approached with a smile, and before Horace could react, he swiftly pulled a piece of paper from under his elbow.

“Give…give it to me! Dad!” little Horace cried out nervously, his face turning red.

Horatio held up the paper. There were no letters on it, but rather crooked lines depicting stick figures charging towards a "death hill." Simple zigzag lines were drawn on the hill to mimic the firing of lumberjack guns and heavy bolts.

Even the fallen were depicted. Horatio noticed that in the corner of the picture, inside the helmet of a fallen soldier with a large hole, Horace had drawn a tiny flower with colored crayons.

Horatio handed the paper back to Horace, smiling as he said, "Pay close attention to Ms. Lina's lessons and complete your assignments on time. And..."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness: "The cannon is drawn wrong. Only mortars or large cannons have short barrels. You should draw the barrel long; that's what a ground-shaking cannon looks like."

Horace blinked, then ran to the window and looked out into the smoke-filled distance: "I see those cannons... the barrels are so thin and short."

Horatio reassembled the disassembled astronomical telescope in front of the French windows.

He adjusted the focus, aiming at the faintly visible earth-shaking cannon positions of the Sintira nobles on the distant mountain ridge, then picked up little Horace and made him look through the eyepiece.

"Wow……"

The moment Horace looked into the frame, he was completely stunned. He involuntarily gaped in astonishment; it was the first time he had ever seen those magnificent and menacing war machines so clearly.

“Looking out the window from afar is far from enough to understand the truth,” Horatio said softly.

He then adjusted the telescope, pointing it at the sky, and locked the elevation angle. This way, young Horace could no longer use this expensive toy to gaze down at the slaughterhouse strewn with corpses.

Horatio didn't want a two-and-a-half-year-old child to witness the most common tragedy in the universe so soon.

“You can look at the stars in the night sky at night. They’re beautiful, completely different from what you see in the void.” He patted his son’s head. “If the smoke of battle hadn’t completely blocked out the moon.”

"Are you leaving, Dad?" Little Horace looked up from behind the telescope, gazing longingly at the tall man before him.

"Yes, I'm going on a long trip. I need to listen to Teacher Lina and Sister Louise while I'm here."

As Horatio finished speaking, the door creaked open, and Louise, dressed in impeccable military uniform, stood quietly and worriedly in front of it.

(End of this chapter)