Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 767 A Desperate Noble (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

"Have you heard? All members of the Lewis family in E-27 Hive have been executed. Those damned scumbags treated us like dirt, and now they're finally dead!"

"It wasn't just them; almost all the nobles and gangs in Upper Nest were wiped out by the Night Lord's men. There wasn't a single survivor, from the old to the young."

"Even the planetary governor couldn't escape judgment. That old man disguised himself very well, but he still couldn't escape the mind-reading ability of those psionicists."

"This is truly gratifying! This is truly gratifying! I never thought that these high and mighty nobles would end up like this, even dying faster than us lowly creatures."

A series of quiet murmurs drifted through a corner of the orbital space station, where two construction workers, fully equipped with safety gear and holding construction tools, were talking to each other in hushed tones.

Their skin had the characteristic paleness of Nostrama, but compared to their previous bloodless appearance, it now had at least a faint hint of color.

Obtaining sufficient nutrition in this godforsaken place, Nostramore, is extremely difficult; this planet, rich in adamantite, does not produce crops.

Thick, toxic clouds blocked the sun's radiation, and deadly acid rain corroded the soil in which most life could survive, making it almost impossible for Nostradamo to develop agriculture in the traditional sense.

On this planet, only a few elaborate indoor growing facilities and animal-raising factories can provide some fresh food.

But the high prices of those items were naturally beyond the reach of the poor at the bottom of society.

They work hard all year round, but they still can't afford a rare, bloody steak on the plates of the nobles.

Most people can only rely on the corpse starch manufacturing machine passed down from ancient times in the Nest City to continuously recycle biomass.

In many parts of the Empire, corpse starch did not refer to starchy food made from the remains of the dead, but rather to a term for artificially synthesized food resources.

But for Nostrama, that's exactly what it means.

Those intricately connected corpse guilds are able to collect hundreds of thousands, even millions, of human corpses from various hives in Nostramore every day.

They are like nature's cleaners, clearing away the corpses that have died for various reasons, thus objectively preventing plagues and diseases from ravaging the planet.

Meanwhile, the important figures in Upper Nest can use interstellar trade routes to continuously import fresh, delicious, and all-natural foods from other agricultural and garden worlds.

For example, there is a rare fruit called "apple peach" that will rot and spoil in a very short time once it is picked from the parent plant.

Therefore, in order to transport it, it is necessary to use expensive static force fields for storage and transportation.

When the apples and peaches from the agricultural world arrived in Nostrama, the local nobles were even willing to exchange them for gold of equal quality.

But from that day on, everything changed.

The terrifying nightmares known as the Midnight Lords poured out from the towering tower outside the city.

Countless giants, clad in blue-purple lightning-patterned armor and draped in tattered human skin cloaks, scrutinized the mortals of this planet.

Meanwhile, these ordinary people, who usually only committed petty theft and had not committed any unforgivable crimes, were sent to the satellite Thenes to build a spaceport.

At first, they thought they were definitely going to die. What good could come of falling into the hands of the Midnight Lord?

But life is unpredictable.

Emperors above never imagined that their lowly lives would give them the chance to leave the surface of Nostramo and travel to its moon.

Construction worker Damien looked up from his post and saw a bright sun appear in his line of sight.

It was so great, so dazzling, that Damien had never seen the sun with his own eyes.

He didn't quite understand why the people who came down from the spaceships would complain that Nostramo's star was too dim, making the spaceships' solar-powered auxiliary systems extremely inefficient.

Are there any other suns in the world that are more dazzling and brighter? Is that even possible?

These were things that the young man, who originally lived in the nest below Nostramo, had never imagined.

Thinking consumes energy, and in Nostrama, too much thinking leads to accelerated energy depletion, which in turn leads to death.

Aside from buying those disgusting corpse starches, they have no choice but to risk catching those giant rodents that live and reproduce in sewers and dark corners.

Of course, whether it's humans eating rats or rats eating humans depends on experience, skill, and a little bit of luck.

Those rodents, which are half the size of an adult, are not just any ordinary combative animals.

Their sharp incisors can even bite through walls made of a mixture of plastic and ceramic steel, leaving holes everywhere.

One can imagine what would happen to the human body when faced with those sharp incisors.

Since arriving at the orbital space station, Damien has finally been able to eat his fill and drink clean, odorless water.

Although these foods are also artificial foods produced on industrial assembly lines, they have been formulated with the most scientific proportions of fat, starch, protein, and vitamins, plus a touch of seasoning, making them veritable delicacies.

Saying goodbye to the drinking water that had been recycled countless times and always had a slightly strange taste, Damien even felt that the water used to bathe them at the base was hundreds of times better than the water back home.

Damian felt lucky that he had caught up with a time of great change in Nostrama.

Instead of suffering the same fate as his father, whose skin was burned by acid rain and subsequently infected, ultimately rotting and dying due to a lack of medicine.

He once considered robbing people on the street, but he was no match for those vicious civilians.

He asked himself if he was a good person either, and that he had done theft before, but he said it was all for survival.

It's not just for my own survival, but also so that my family can live.

He never wanted to see his family members die like his father, their bodies covered in sores, stinking, and devoid of dignity.

Even before he died, grotesque maggots had already begun to grow in his flesh.

He didn't know what life was like for people in other places, but he just had an instinctive feeling that they shouldn't be living like that.

Humans shouldn't live like animals, or rather, even animals shouldn't live like that.

At least in Damien's own opinion, if there were any other way to survive, who would want to risk their life?
At least here, on the Thenes orbital space station, he dared not have the slightest thought of breaking the law or the rules.

More than once, while he was sleeping in his dormitory during shifts, he dreamed that he had accidentally fallen back into his old habit and stolen things from the base, and was then mercilessly expelled by the administrator and sent back to the surface of Nostramore.

That was the most terrifying nightmare he had ever had; even his early life, which was like a dark comedy, was not as horrifying.

He could never go back to that dark and gloomy place. If he were expelled back, he would rather commit suicide in his dormitory than stay there.

Damian glanced at the timer on his body, which indicated that he would have half an hour to rest, and that other coworkers would take over his shift.

He walked quickly to the rest area, but did not lie down to rest.

He approached the Thinker computer in the rest area, wolfed down his work meal, and skillfully turned on the holographic projector to begin learning the technology he hadn't yet mastered.

Born in the Nostramore bottom hive, he naturally had no chance to learn a skill. Even if he wanted to become an apprentice to those skilled bottom hive people, he would have to work for them for free for several years in exchange for an opportunity.

Damian has a strong sense of crisis in his bones, which, after being transformed, becomes a vigorous drive for advancement.

He was like a dried-up sponge, desperately wanting to absorb anything useful.

What you own and what truly belong to you are two completely different concepts.

Damien had seen some “inhuman” beings on the construction site, which were larger and more suited to construction, industrial-type Iron Men.

They can even easily lift building materials weighing over ten tons, then assemble them like building blocks, and finally fuse them perfectly using a material recombination machine.

There are also some stone men who look no different from them, or even more handsome and intelligent.

They were exceptionally intelligent and had photographic memories. These stone figures served as engineers and researchers, overseeing the construction progress according to plan.

Upon realizing the existence of the Stone Men and Iron Men, Damien knew that he and his Nostramorians did not actually have much value.

In terms of strength and skill, they are far inferior to the Iron Man with his metallic body.

In terms of intelligence and calculation, they, with a 99% illiteracy rate, are far inferior to the Stone Man.

They need to eat, drink, relieve themselves, and sleep, while stone men and iron men only need energy.

The reason they were able to have jobs on the Tenes orbital space station was entirely due to the newly appointed high-ranking official, who granted them these positions to preserve their dignity as human beings.

Damian didn't know who had caused all of this to change, but he was very grateful to that important person, a heartfelt gratitude.

In fact, deep down, the great man who gave them work and dignity was more worthy of respect and love than the emperor he kept talking about.

After all, when he was struggling at the bottom of the Nest City, calling for the Emperor's protection, the old man never took pity on him.

The people of Nostradamus had reached their limit of suffering, and whoever brought them a glimmer of light would receive boundless gratitude and worship.

Damian finds himself easily lost in thought, pondering his past, Nostrama's tragic fate, and what his future holds.

He felt that he was far more intelligent than he had imagined; his previous limited thinking was simply due to his environment.

These were things he would never have thought about before. After all, a person might starve to death tomorrow, so why would he think about such things?

The short half-hour break passed quickly, and Damien learned some new knowledge and skills, which made him feel a sense of fulfillment and happiness.

He returned to his post, from which he could see the giant warships floating in space.

Some of them belong to Nostramamo, and their command is in the hands of the Night Lords.

Damien knew of the giants known as the Night Lords, who were rumored to be the Emperor's angels, but he was better off without such sinister and terrifying angels.

He instinctively felt that these Night Lords, who originally existed only in legends, seemed to have undergone a great change.

They began to pay more attention to the feelings of ordinary people. Although they were still somewhat unapproachable, it was much better than before.

Of course, this could also be a subjective filter brought about by seeing too many midnight lords torturing the nobles of the Nest City and punishing the executives of giant corporations through holographic projection.

However, these warships belonging to Nostramo are insignificant compared to other warships that are said to come from the Solar System.

The Eighth Legion's warships looked significantly older and were several sizes smaller.

The dark paint of the warships, bearing the marks of time, was already faded and worn. Compared to the brand-new hulls of the Solar Fleet, the difference in quality was immediately apparent.

Damien didn't know why so many warships were circling around the Nostramo system, but his instincts told him that this troop buildup was a harbinger of war.

But with so many warships and so many human soldiers, who are they going to fight?

Damien can't quite remember what happened more than a hundred years ago.

Nostrama had alarmingly high murder and suicide rates, and the average lifespan of a generation was only about 15 to 20 years.

A hundred years, or at least five or six generations, is enough time for them to forget the past.

"Erlin, what's wrong with you? You've seemed distracted lately."

Damien asked his fellow workers with concern. They were all from the same city, and naturally, they were closer than others in Tenes.

Compared to Damien, who grew up struggling in the bottom nest, Erin looks much more frail.

His pale skin had a sheen of oil, clearly indicating that it had received meticulous washing and care.

Moreover, he did not have the scars and marks that are common among people from the lower class, nor the burn marks left by the ubiquitous acid rain.

Damian guessed that he might come from a wealthy family in Upper Nest.

After all, Nostrama still has a complete social system, with professions such as law enforcement officers, doctors, and skilled technicians having extraordinary income and status.

However, those midnight lords don't look at your family's situation when they arrest people; they only check for serious criminal records, and if there are any, they execute you on the spot.

"I'm fine. I was just wondering if my family is still in the hive and hasn't been taken to the orbital space station."

Erin forced a somewhat forced smile and explained to Damian.

“I have two younger sisters, and my parents and grandparents live in the Shangchao residential area.”

“Those Midnight Lords brought us up, but they didn’t bring their families with them, and even if they did, I don’t know which orbital space station they’re on.”

Damian was somewhat envious; having parents and grandparents in Nostradamo was a very rare thing.

"You can request to access the database from our area supervisor. If your family's information is available, it will definitely be in the database."

“I’ve already checked, but the database doesn’t show anything. I think they might be hiding.”

Erling looked sad, but he still maintained a determined attitude.

“I must find my family. We have a safe house in the hive, and they must be hiding there without being discovered by the Night Lords.”

"Since life on the space station is so good, I'm even more determined to bring them over."

After listening to his fellow countryman's story, Damian patted him on the shoulder in support.

"Then do what you think is right, and don't leave yourself with any regrets."

"Go find your family."

Erin seemed deeply moved by Damian's support; he squeezed out a few tears from the corner of his eye before making a firm statement.

“I want to apply to return to Nest City and find my family.”

"Damien, are we friends?" Erin suddenly changed the subject and continued to ask.

“Yes, of course.” Damien was taken aback, not understanding why his friend said that.

“I’m going back to find my family this time, and I’m sure I’ll encounter some trouble. I hope you can come with me.”

Erling looked embarrassed. "Of course, this isn't about taking advantage of your time. After all, you still have work to do, so I'll pay you enough."

“Don’t say that, we’re friends,” Damian said solemnly.

“I’ll go with you; we’ll go to the supervisor to apply.”

Upon hearing the other person's reply, Erin was deeply moved and gave them a hug.

Damian felt a strange, intoxicating scent emanating from his good brother, and for a moment he was somewhat dazed. He instinctively wanted to say, "Bro, you smell so good."

But when the words were about to come out, Damian felt it was really strange and swallowed them back down.

After a brief discussion, the two quickly completed the handover and found the supervisor of the H-3256 area.

Because Roche relocated a large number of Nostramas to the space station, these billions of people need to be properly resettled and managed.

A large number of grassroots administrators are directly connected to each district and are responsible for various complex matters such as people's livelihood.

Erling's application was quickly approved; he was not alone in this.

Many Nostramas who were forcibly brought to the orbital space station, after discovering how good it was there, began to bring their relatives and friends who were still on the surface with them.

After all, Nostramore is so vast, and its intricate ancient city contains too many abandoned and hidden places.

Even if the Midnight Lord himself were to arrest them, it would be impossible to arrest them all.

The simplest and quickest way is to get these ordinary people to take the initiative themselves.

Erin and Damian quickly boarded a transport ship and returned to the planet's surface.

Damien had no attachment whatsoever to the planet where he had lived for over a decade.

He felt an instinctive fear and disgust as the thick, dark clouds in the atmosphere enveloped the transport ship.

Meanwhile, Erin, who appeared even weaker and powerless, had an inexplicable and eerie light gleaming in his eyes.

"Finally, finally I can go back."

“I, Erin Duke, must avenge my family against those damned Midnight Lords who started the war and disrupted the balance with us nobles.”

"Why?! We, the ancient families filled with glory, are the ones being purged, while those damned commoners are living the good life?!"

Hatred gleamed in Erling's eyes. He had been playing a role all along, pretending to be an ordinary commoner from an unremarkable family in Upper Nest.

The Duke family is an ancient and prestigious noble family in Nostradamus's high society.

They used marriage alliances, exchanges of benefits, and ancient oaths to forge a powerful alliance of interests, encompassing nobles, powerful clans, giant corporations, and gangs.

The Scarlewalker family, behind the former tattooed earl, was a member of this ancient alliance.

However, they went too far, and their entire family was completely wiped out by the Midnight Lord.

The Duke family was alerted by the sudden and unusual behavior of those midnight lords.

Or perhaps it was a revelation given by a being called the "Silver Weaver of Fate," a secret belief within the family.

The rise of the Duke family is inextricably linked to the Silverweavers.

The first ancestor was just the second son of a declining family that fell into ruin due to a failed investment in interstellar travel.

Since encountering the Silverweaver, the Duke family has begun to rise rapidly.

The ancestor originally intended to use his last remaining money to try and turn his fortunes around at the casino.

However, he lost thirty rounds in a row at the casino, failing to turn his fortunes around and instead incurring huge debts.

With the help of the Silver Weaver, the ancestor won seven consecutive rounds in the riskiest game of roulette, achieving a magnificent comeback.

Of course, the casino would be unhappy if such a dramatic turnaround happened.

They immediately demanded a search of the ancestor, and the argument even escalated to the point of exchanging fire.

When the nine professional gunmen surrounding Old Duke all ran out of ammunition for various reasons, the casino owner had no choice but to let the lucky kid go.

He even admired the guy's incredible luck and married his own daughter to him.

This legendary family line continued until the generation of Erin Duke.

Everything should have continued peacefully, with the Duke family continuing to exploit the poor and using various social means to build connections with other powerful families.

But the peace was shattered by the arrival of those midnight ghosts.

Erin's father inquired with the Silverweaver, who declared that a great calamity was imminent and the destruction of the family was inevitable.

Fortunately, they were able to preserve their heirs.

The Silverweaver disguised Erin's memories to help him pass the Midnight Lords' intelligence review and successfully deceive them.

The once-glorious Duke family was wiped out in this brutal purge.

The entire family was slaughtered, and even his father—a highly respected nobleman who was passionate about education and charity—was killed by the mob.

The reason given by those rioters was that the Duke family funded charitable education, and every 99 days they would select 999 outstanding students and dedicate them to the Silverweavers.

It is an honor for them to serve the Silver Radiance Weavers, so why don't these peasants know how to be grateful and give back?

Erling glanced at the lowly fellow beside him out of the corner of his eye, using his superb acting skills to erase any contempt he felt.

The time is not yet right; he needs to be patient and must not reveal any abnormal emotional fluctuations or weaknesses.

He needs the power of the Silverweaver to turn things around once again.

What is the point of Nostramas' existence without nobles?

I don't care about the deluge after I die.

If he fails, then let everything be reduced to ashes, and let no one have it!

The transport ship slowly landed on a flat wasteland around the city.

Erin and Damian, dressed in protective suits, rushed towards the hive capital.

The once bustling city was now deserted, with hardly any living people walking on the streets. It was more like a ghost town than it used to be, when it was always crowded with people.

Erin knew where these people had gone; the most heinous criminals were executed on the spot, while those with lesser crimes were sent to the space station to become laborers.

The thought that his noble bloodline was doing the same work as these peasants made Erling instinctively feel uncomfortable and embarrassed; this shouldn't be the case.

They are ruining Nostrama, destroying this fertile land.

It took them several days to walk from the wilderness outside the hive to Upper Hive, and finally to the former Duke family manor.

The once magnificent and solemn manor is now a white wasteland, littered with signs of destruction and ashes from a fire.

“Your house is really big,” Damian remarked. “Back in our lower hive, we all live in cramped huts just to save a little bit of space.”

"I once had a dream of having a room of my own."

A slight smile appeared on Erling's lips. He had gone to great lengths to bring this fool to the family manor, and now the time was finally approaching when he could make use of him.

The two quickly entered the manor. Erlin could sense that the vessel of the Silver Radiance Weaver was still stored in a secret chamber deep underground.

The Eighth Legion's purge swept the Duke family's estate clean, but failed to discover the most ingeniously hidden secret room.

This secret chamber was protected by the Silverweaver, and even the psionicists could not detect its existence.

Erin called upon the being of his family's faith in his heart, and the next moment, a strange, shimmering portal of light appeared before them.

"Erling, are you sure... your family is in here?"

"Something feels off to me... these are traces of psionic energy!"

"Maybe we should leave. Illegally touching psionic items is strictly prohibited by the rules."

Damian looked hesitant; he was beginning to sense that something was amiss.

His fellow townsman and friend was not telling the whole truth.

"It's alright, my friend, come with me."

A glint of silver light flashed in Erin's eyes, and then he grabbed Damian's hand with his right hand and pulled him into the psionic chamber.

"what!!"

Damian screamed, and the two of them fell in together.

Damian felt as if he had been falling for a very, very long time, so long that he had even gotten used to the feeling of weightlessness.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a secret chamber filled with crystals.

This is clearly just a closed room, but it gives people a sense of infinitely vast chaos, and human sense of space and distance instantly fails.

A light, tinkling sound of spinning thread echoed through the space, as if swallowing Damien's entire consciousness like an abyss.

“Come, my friend, I will take you to see the Silverweaver.”

The silver light in Erin's eyes grew increasingly dazzling, even penetrating the barrier of his pupils and affecting the skin around his eye sockets.

Countless rays of light pierced through his body, as if draping him in a cloak woven from silver wings.

When the two walked up to a crystal-clear spinning machine, Erin had become somewhat unlike a human.

Feather-like appendages grew on his body, and his figure became increasingly tall and thin. The feeling of being human receded like the tide, leaving only emptiness and nothingness.

"This feeling……"

Erin Duke stretched out his hands and felt an overwhelming power he had never experienced before.

The next moment, he grabbed Damien by the throat, and with unstoppable violence lifted the poor man up and slammed him onto the loom of fate.

The threads of fate woven by the loom easily pierced the skin of mortals, and the dripping blood instantly stained the crystal-clear structure of the loom.

"Seeking the help of the Silverweaver requires exchanging blood and life."

"You have to give as much as you want to receive; that's fair."

"The most suitable sacrifices would have been children with pure hearts and limitless potential, powerful psychics, cunning schemers and ambitious individuals, knowledge addicts, and naive idealists."

"But the situation has changed now, and the conditions are limited, so we'll have to make do with what you have for now."

"However, based on my observations over this period of time, although you disguise yourself as a villain, you are essentially a good person."

"I hope the Silverweaver will be pleased with your soul, and that it will inspire me to revive my family. That would be your honor."

Erin's smile, now more and more distorted, was corrupted by the subspace energy.

He gripped the threads of fate's spinning machine tightly, wanting to strangle this mortal who had been tricked into coming here.

A burning rage of revenge raged within Erin; he desperately wanted to destroy everything and bring that damned Nostramaur back to its rightful state.

The psionic threads in his hand tightened more and more, and Erin thought the guy must have been strangled to death.

But when he checked the other person's vital signs, he was shocked to find that Damian was still alive.

He still stared wide-eyed at me, as if memorizing the face of his enemy.

This?
What the fuck is going on?

Erin couldn't understand why Damion wasn't dead yet. Was it because the Silverweaver wouldn't accept the sacrifice?

"Come out! Get out here right now!"

Guided by surging emotions, a psionic entity with two bird heads and covered in feathers and scales slowly emerged from the secret chamber.

Its two heads seemed to be arguing and bickering with each other forever, but Erin's appearance brought them to a temporary halt.

"Another idiot."

"A rare wise man."

"A superior offering."

"Counterfeit and shoddy products."

The Silverweaver waved its staff, nudging Damien, who was tightly bound by the threads of fate, as if it had sensed something amiss.

"Ok?"

"Ok!"

The Silverweaver screamed, but the mortal trapped by the threads had already stood up and casually ripped the divine artifact passed down from the Duke family, causing it to shatter.

Erin was completely stunned, while the Silverweaver screamed and cursed.

"Damn idiot, I told you to deliver a sacrifice, who the hell told you to deliver the child of a cursed being!"

"Open your eyes and see who he really is!"

Suddenly, Damien's body began to swell rapidly in Erin's eyes.

It's like looking at the world through a blurry filter; a mortal who was originally only a little over 1.7 meters tall has grown to about 3 meters in height.

His exposed skin had transformed into an indigo-colored scale-like armor.

A long, slender spear-like weapon appeared in the giant's hand. Its smooth, flawless head reflected a ghostly light as it coldly stared at the Silver Weaver who had revealed its true form.

The giant stared at his opponent, like a giant python locking onto its prey that had fallen into a trap.

(End of this chapter)