Warhammer: Empire Reboot

vile humans.

Ilancia stands on the edge of the spire area.

She was carrying a bottle of red wine.

The bottle is adorned with classic labels favored by the nobility, featuring intricate text, lengthy descriptions of the place of origin, and a year written like a family history.

She didn't like this kind of thing in the first place.

But tonight, she casually took a bottle from Lawson's collection.

The servant in charge of the side hall even bowed his head and stepped back when he saw her take the wine.

Ilancia originally intended to use a cup.

Later I found it troublesome.

She uncorked the bottle and took a sip directly from the bottle opening.

The liquor is very strong on the palate.

It has a bitter, sour, and astringent taste, followed by a rich sweetness.

She frowned.

She raised the bottle and took another swig.

The night breeze blew through her silver hair.

Ilancia leaned against the railing at the edge of the spire district, overlooking the night view of the No. 3 hive city.

This nest city is becoming unlike a nest city.

Outside the nest city, the green belt is like a slowly expanding boundary of life, gradually swallowing up the former wasteland.

As Ilancia looked at these changes, she suddenly remembered the places that Lawson had taken her to see these past few days.

Blue sky, white clouds, clear irrigation ditches, farmland, school, children running barefoot on the ridges of the fields, mothers chasing after them with tree branches, and a group of farmers laughing and cheering.

That sense of security was too dazzling.

In many imperial worlds, children do not play pranks.

They don't have time.

They had to climb pipes, scrape chimneys, strip scrap wires, carry buckets of water, carry debts, or learn how to lie down and play dead during gang fights.

On the agricultural planet under Lawson's rule, children actually have the energy to skip school, the guts to play pranks on teachers, and can even be chased and whipped by their mothers before going to school.

And then there's the one that goes down to the nest.

When Ilancia thought of this, she almost laughed out loud.

A sub-nest of an imperial capital is actually competing for a civilized community ranking.

Ilancia found it absurd at the time.

Looking back now, there was a terrifying order beneath the absurdity.

This is extremely rare.

Ilancia placed the bottle on the railing, then picked it up and took a sip.

She has a decent alcohol tolerance.

Eldar have a more sensitive metabolism and sharper senses than humans.

After the alcohol entered her body, she could clearly feel the heat going down her throat and then slowly spreading to her chest and fingertips.

This dull warmth made her relax a little.

She began to think about the ark.

Saim-Han, her homeland, her clan, her fellow riders.

Ilancia loves her ark.

This point has never wavered.

Saim-Han is wild.

It is something to be proud of.

They are the Ark Eldar who are least willing to be bound.

They valued bloodlines and clans more than other Arks, revered rider honor more, and were more willing to respond to the malice of the universe with speed and spears.

She once thought that this was freedom.

But now, she suddenly realized that their freedom also grew during their escape.

The Eldar of the Ark have no right to truly stop.

They are homeless people.

Gliding among the stars without stopping.

I dare not stop.

And it just won't stop.

Stopping means being discovered, and being discovered means disaster.

Chaos might catch up, and the Tyranids might press in from the depths of the void.

A certain ark that had once slowed down eventually had more than 90% of its population devoured by the Zerg.

Ilancia had heard that story.

If you slow down, you'll get eaten.

This is the Eldar's dilemma.

They once possessed the Milky Way.

Now all I can do is hide in the ancient ark, clinging to fragments of the past, telling myself that I am still nobler than all the younger races.

She suddenly recalled some private complaints that human mercenaries and merchants had about the Eldar.

“Pointy ears always think they know the future, but they always end up making things worse.”

"They look at humans like they look at monkeys, but they themselves live like a group of aristocratic beggars fleeing for their lives while carrying the ashes of their ancestors."

At that time, Ilancia almost killed those mercenaries.

She would have actually taken action if it weren't for the mission.

But tonight, those vulgar human complaints started popping up one after another.

She was unwilling to admit that there was some truth to it.

The Eldar of the Ark are indeed proud, because they were once glorious.

But arrogance cannot change one fact.

They have no hope.

At least not the hope that the common people under Lawson's rule had.

What is the hope for the Eldar in the Ark?

To escape the next disaster, to prevent the Soul Stone from being taken away, and to prevent Slaanesh from finding them.

Let the legend of Inid not just be another beautiful trap.

May there be less death in the prophet's next prophecy.

Is this considered hope?

Ilancia doesn't know.

This is more like constantly pushing back the date of their demise.

Every day counts.

One more generation is one more generation.

They wouldn't expect their children to cause less trouble at school tomorrow, unlike the farmers on Klein's agricultural planet.

A night breeze blew by, and her face felt a little hot.

She muttered a curse under her breath.

"asshole."

I don't know if he's cursing Lawson or himself.

"That's so unfair."

Ilancia finished the last sip of red wine.

She looked at the empty bottle and frowned.

"It tastes awful."

As soon as Ilancia placed the empty bottle by the railing, she heard footsteps behind her.

Ilancia had already identified the other person from their scent and footsteps.

Human female.

They received aristocratic etiquette training.

Having been in the power arena for a long time, one knows how to make one's presence perfectly timed.

Adela stopped three steps away from Ilancia.

She wore a dark long dress, which was much more restrained than the extravagant attire of the former governor's wife.

The neckline still has a feminine touch, and the waistline is also well-tailored.

She slightly curtsied: "Your Excellency Ilancia."

"You are a guest of the Lord of the Seal. Your room is ready, with hot water, a change of clothes, a drink to help you sober up, and nighttime security arrangements. If you would like, please follow me."

Ilancia then turned to look at Adela.

The former governor's wife was more beautiful than she had imagined.