Warhammer: Empire Reboot

By simply classifying this debt as employment and gratitude, the Empire's massive army can be sent away legitimately, thus safeguarding sovereignty and mineral resources at the heart of the galaxy.

Lawson didn't even glance at the list of supplies that was enough to buy several star sectors.

He picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and then looked at Wald with a half-smile.

“Waldkar, I saved you not just for these few pieces of ore.”

"That's because we're family."

"The Human Federation of the Golden Age dispatched its first deep-space mining expedition fleet to the core of the galaxy. In order to adapt to the high gravity, strong radiation and extreme geology here, the engineers designed the first generation of clone lineages."

"The genetic makeup flowing in your veins, the underlying logic of the standard manufacturing templates you use, even the engineering ethics you take pride in..."

"You were originally a branch of the human race, wandering and drifting for tens of thousands of years. Now that the Empire's main fleet has crushed the insects at your doorstep, it is time for you to return to the Empire's territory."

boom! !

Olsen slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly.

"Absolutely impossible!"

"What do you mean by 'human branch'? We're called the Furnace Descendants! We're an independent civilization born between the star's core and its mineral veins!"

Wald reached out and held down his enraged companion, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he stared at Lawson.

“Your Excellency, if the Empire came to the core of the galaxy with the intention of annexing it, then I advise you to take back your arrogance as soon as possible.”

The old dwarf possessed unparalleled resolve.

"The Wotan Alliance has survived independently in this extreme star system for tens of thousands of years. We do not worship your toilet-sitting god-emperor, nor do we recognize the vampire-like bureaucratic laws of Terra!"

"No matter how large your Star-Burning warships are, if the Empire wants to forcibly put the chains of enslavement around our necks..."

"Greater Tulian, Cronus, Ymir... countless clans, even if they shed their last drop of blood, even if they blow all the planets in the galactic core to dust, will never become vassals of your empire!"

"Yes! Never compromise!"

"Go ahead and fight! Our mine carts are still running!"

A dozen or so old dwarfs slammed their fists on the table and stood up, filling the hall with all sorts of crude mining slang, displaying a fierce demeanor as if they were ready to die together at any moment.

Looking at the group of stern-faced dwarves, Lawson couldn't help but laugh. He took a sip of tea and said casually, "I can repair your ancestors."

Olsen, who was waving his fists and roaring, instinctively roared back, "So what? Even if you bring the Golden Throne of Terra, even if you can repair the Ancestral Spirits... we will never..."

Olsen abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

A dozen or so old dwarves stood frozen in place, their necks stiff as rusty bearings, staring comically at Lawson on the bench.

Wald's lips trembled as he managed to squeeze out a few words: "What...what did you just say?"

Lawson calmly adjusted his cuffs and repeated slowly and deliberately:

“I said, I can completely repair all the Ancestral Spirit Cores of your various alliances.”

“Your ancestral spirit cores have been operating since the Dark Ages, accumulating tens of thousands of years of redundant garbage that has never been cleaned up. Their operational logic is riddled with holes.”

Lawson mercilessly pierced through the deepest despair in their hearts:

"At this rate of deterioration of memory leaks and logic collapses, it won't take hundreds of years, or even just a few decades, for all the Ancestral Spirit Cores in the Galactic Core to completely crash one after another."

"Can the Wotan Alliance, whose ancestral memories have been completely evaporated, whose cloning lineage cannot be calibrated, and whose industrial blueprints have been completely lost, still be considered a civilization?"

The hall was deathly silent.

The dwarf leaders, who had just been clamoring to detonate the Earth's core and perish together, were now sweating profusely, with cold sweat streaming down their beards.

Lawson's words struck the most vulnerable spot of the entire Wotan race.

Ancestral spirits are their deities, their ancestral temples, their mother, and the foundation of all technology and reproduction.

If the ancestral spirits were to completely extinguish, the Wotans would become, within a few generations, wandering savages in the galaxy with no past and no future, ultimately facing silent extinction.

Wald swallowed hard, his saliva dry.

"You...you're not kidding? How could a human Seal Bearer like you possibly understand those sacred quantum structures that even our Bloch Grand Craftsmen can't touch?"

Lawson remained calm.

"Since I dare to say this, I can naturally restore all your ancestors to the peak computing power of the Golden Age."

"Gudong."

A series of perfectly synchronized swallowing sounds filled the hall.

Olsen's eyes gleamed with an almost frantic desire.

"What are your conditions? What exactly are they?"

"It's very simple."

Lawson directly stated his terms.

"You will be formally incorporated into the human empire as an independent major clan, and the supreme authority of the Sealholder's Palace will be recognized. Your internal autonomy and parliament will be retained, but the defense of your entire territory will be incorporated into the empire's strategic deployment. You will pay tithes on schedule, form the Wotan Legion, accept the empire's call, and fire on all enemies of the Sealholder's Palace."

"Impossible! This is a complete violation of sovereignty..."

A young Karl instinctively wanted to retort.

"You have ten minutes."

Before he could finish speaking, Lawson stood up and pointed to a completely soundproof, enclosed conference room next door.

Give me an answer in ten minutes.

“Accept, I’ll take people to repair your ancestral altar.”

"If you refuse, I will lead the Imperial fleet to annihilate you."

……

The moment the door to the sealed conference room was locked, the entire room erupted in chaos.

"Agree to him! You must agree to him! That's the life of an entire generation of ancestral spirits!"

"Bullshit! Olson, you spineless coward! If we agree to him, we'll have to pay taxes to those charlatans in Terra from now on!"

"What's wrong with paying taxes? Paying taxes can prevent our ancestors from crashing! You forgot that last time you went to check a mining blueprint and were stuck outside by the ancestral spirits, listening to a library of square dance music for three days and three nights?"

"I'd rather listen to square dancing for the rest of my life than hand over the clan's mining rights!"

"You brainless, stubborn rock! Once the ancestral spirits are completely burned through and the cloning silos shut down, you won't even have the chance to give birth to another dwarf to pay taxes!"

"Who are you calling brainless? If you've got the guts, pull out your warhammer. I'll scrape off all that fat on you today on behalf of my ancestors!"

"Come on! You think you're scared of me? I've wanted to snap your neck for ages!"

Accompanied by bursts of extremely filthy and foul-smelling miner's curses, the entire sealed room shook violently, and even the ventilation ducts spewed out bursts of angry curses mixed with blood foam.

……

Nine minutes and fifty seconds.

The door to the sealed chamber opened again with the roar of the pressure relief valve.

A dozen or so old dwarfs limped out from inside.

Wald's left eye socket was bruised and swollen, Olsen's beard was torn in half, and another Bloch master craftsman was still dripping blood from his nose, with several deep dents in his power armor.

But at that moment, everyone's gaze was surprisingly unanimous.

Wald wiped the blood from his nose, held the golden book that symbolized the supreme sovereignty of the entire alliance in both hands, and knelt heavily on one knee in front of Lawson.

"Greater Tulian, Kronus, Ymir... a total of seventeen Wotan alliances."

"In accordance with ancient laws, we hereby conclude a covenant."

"The Wotan Alliance, effective immediately, joins the human empire's front, accepts the strategic command of the Sealholder's Palace, and pays tithes on schedule."

"There is only one condition: to revive our ancestral spirits."

Looking at the group of dwarves with bruised and battered faces but resolute expressions, Lawson burst into hearty laughter.

He personally helped the elderly clan leader to his feet and patted his hard, iron-like shoulder armor.

Welcome home, everyone!

The dwarves' inherently impatient nature erupted once again.

"Alright, alright! We can talk about polite things later! Lord Seal Master, when will your engineering team be stationed on our home planet, Great Tulian? Our old machine just popped up its 70,000th error code. You'd better take some people to fix it right away!"

"Yes, yes! Repair ours first! We'll pay two percent more in taxes, so repair ours first!"

Chapter 301 The Period of Technological Recovery in the Empire

Deep within the homeworld of the Great Tulian Alliance.

On the screen, the lag cursor that had plagued the Great Turian Alliance for hundreds of years disappeared.

System self-check complete.

Quantum coherence: 99.98%

[Current idle computing power: 94.2%]

[Please issue new engineering or war simulation instructions]

"The ancestor has awakened!"

The master craftsman unleashed a deafening roar:

"The ancestor has fully awakened!! It's no longer stuck!! It even balanced out the depreciation rate of the ore from the third mining area 30,000 years ago!!"

……

The entire planet of Tulian has descended into utter madness.

This is a celebration unique to the space dwarves.

The heavy alloy explosion-proof door was kicked open, and tens of thousands of tons of aged strong synthetic malt liquor were dragged out of the warehouse barrel by barrel, with the barrel lids being split open directly with a plasma cutting blade.

Thousands of Hess Guard soldiers stood arm in arm with the miners, their power boots stomping so hard the floor shook.

"For our ancestors! For a clear mind!"

The huge wine glasses collided violently in mid-air, splashing wine everywhere.