This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 275 I Once Had an Easy Job
As one of the most prized jewels in the northern part of the empire, Vigilant Star naturally attracted a large number of forces to gather there.

The three enormous nests that make up the main part of the planet—Hyberia, Motwald, and North North—belong to the State Religion, the Imperial Nobles, and the Mechanicus, respectively.

The complex structure laid the foundation for the prosperity of Vigilant Star, but also made the situation on this planet exceptionally complicated.

The state religion had been trying to expand its influence, from initially serving as a regent to gradually taking control of Hyperion, the birthplace of the Agammenus dynasty.

Today, the Sisters of the Martyrs, who now reside in a sanctuary, also possess heavy equipment such as pipe organs, atonement mechs, and exemplar mechs, thanks to the investment of the state church.

The imperial nobles, led by the Agammenus dynasty, were squeezed into Motwald, a hive city that relied on a huge ecological dome to purify the air and provide food for the entire Vigilant Planet.

Relying on top-notch, and somewhat bizarre, life-extending technology that can stitch a person's brain to a young body—a technology that is somewhat bloody and cruel—the imperial nobles are still able to maintain their wealth.

Furthermore, they did not forget to expand in the past, building a "Blade Cave Nest" near Hyperion. Unfortunately, it is now abandoned, riddled with holes, and has become a paradise for heretics, aliens, and scavengers.

As for mechanical teaching.

Few would choose to offend the Cult of Mechanics, especially a powerful forging world like the Eighth World of the Underworld.

Their willingness to establish a foothold on Vigilant Star, even if it's just for mining, is an honor for the planet.

This means that the planet is likely to receive support from a Titan legion if it is threatened.

The Imperial Ministry of the Interior was happy to see this happen, content to stay atop the Vigilant Star satellite Neo-Vimurer and collect taxes.

Until the arrival of the Primarch.

Motwad Nest City, Upper Nest Dome.

Surprisingly, the imperial nobles, who were usually keen on pleasure and power struggles, were nowhere to be seen. The banquet hall was deserted, with only people in various poses waiting for the arrival of the hall's host.

These people's bodies are quite deformed by normal standards. Their highly specialized organs, designed to serve the needs of the nobility, forced them to wear robes and armor to cover their bodies.

Biological weapons, meticulously tuned by biological sages, are often used as assassins and bodyguards among nobles, and their strength should not be underestimated in high-intensity battles.

The crowd waited in the hall for a moment, and then Denos Agamenus emerged from behind the magnificent golden corridor.

He looked like he was in a bad mood.

He first looked around and, finding no fools who had gone mad from indulging in pleasure, muttered to himself that these nobles hadn't completely lost their intelligence.

There are just too few people.

"Lord of the castle, you should take a look at this."

At this moment, a noble representative stepped forward.

Denos picked up the parchment and began to examine it, then frowned.

The letter only said one thing.

The ruler of the Agamemnos dynasty, and also the governor of the Star Guardian planet, Sienna Agamemnos, announced her abdication at the latest session of the Imperial Diet. At the same time, she took some of her belongings and guards to the satellite Neo Vemuler to take up the post of archivist in the Ministry of the Interior.

To put it bluntly, it means giving up power and seeking political asylum.

The letter also contained advice from her sister, such as, "Don't go against the Primarch; just agree to whatever they want, and you'll still survive."

This was undoubtedly adding insult to injury for the already less-than-ideal mood of the Denosburg owner.

The ministers are about to fight to the death, why does Your Majesty surrender first?
What on earth is wrong with my sister?

Denos recalled that he hadn't seen Sinnie for a while. The governor had been embroiled in wrangling between the council and various imperial departments, to the point that all matters within the planetary nobility had been left to him.

This gave Denos an unprecedented sense of honor.

Whether they were wealthy nobles from Sintira, wandering merchants roaming the stars, or powerful imperial officials...
These upper-class individuals, whose usual rejuvenation techniques are no longer effective but who still want to live to maintain their power, will reveal their most vulnerable side after traveling thousands of miles to Vigilant Star, trying to please him, the actual controller of Mortwald, and spending lavishly in the hope of being reborn.

This is why the Agammenus dynasty accumulated numerous favors from nobles who promised to unite when Agammenus was threatened.

Seriously, do you think they're like those country bumpkins in the Extreme Starfield?

Primarchs are naturally noble and exalted, so their servants can only be equally noble and exalted.

If the Primarch does not need their service, then it is the Primarch's fault!

They will make the Primarch realize its mistake.

This made Denos subconsciously look down on his sister, who had surrendered first.

Denos's face darkened. The Dawn Fleet was no mere decoration; engaging in armed conflict with the Primarchs was not an option, but he wasn't without other solutions.

Military deterrence, a deterrent force powerful enough to severely damage the entire Vigilant Planet.

His collection includes many powerful weapons, including six Death Strike missiles, two of which are equipped with vortex warheads, making even behemoths like the Mechanical Ark hesitant to use them.

He had sealed these weapons away in a fortress, knowing full well their deterrent power.

However, he cannot do this. Agammenus will still rule Vigilant in the future and cannot openly oppose the Empire.

If reality allowed, he could not allow the nobles under the dynasty's rule to do this, because it would indicate that he had weak control over his subjects and could easily leave a bad impression.

He needs to prove he has enough deterrent power to reduce this planet to ruins if the Primarch doesn't choose him.

The detonation of a whirlwind torpedo is enough to prove this point, but who should detonate it and who should be provoked into conflict is a choice that needs to be carefully considered.

Anyway, he can't participate, and the person chosen to participate must be influential enough and cannot be a local from Vigilant Star.

The State Church, whose members were being corrupted by the religious atmosphere, was completely unreliable. With the Primarch's arrival, it was no longer the priests who could command the followers. As for the Mechanicus, he couldn't reach them either, since even the training of those genetic monks required the support of the bio-sages.

"I remember there are still some Terran nobles in the Dome District?"

Denos asked a representative.

"Yes, sir. They all came to exchange information on rejuvenation techniques and have been staying for half a year now. The Nokmond Sector has also sent some representatives."

The representative provided feedback.

"Hmm~" It seems these nobles have some sense; they know that if I fall, they won't survive either.

Denos pondered for a moment, then spoke.

“Convene a secret meeting, with special invitations extended to nobles from Terra.”

"Yes."

The man responded.

Denos, who was deep in thought, also waved his hand.

"Go away."

The deformed bodies began to bow, and then quickly dispersed.

After much deliberation, thinking about how to persuade the nobles to share the plan, Denos looked up at the magnificent portrait of Sinnie Agamenus in the center of the hall.

Look at you, how pathetic you are to choose to flee. You have abandoned your relatives and people and lied to yourself when you ascended the throne.

A dynasty has only one chance to be restored.

If you cannot lead the dynasty to greatness again, then let me do it!
-
Five days later, in the Mortwald Nest City, at the Sanctuary of Gene Monks.

Tarachin's dark green robe swept across the ground. He tilted his head slightly, a cryptic smile playing on his lips, and whispered to Kaul beside him:
"This young lady is really impressive. I didn't know she was capable unless I pushed her a bit."

Kaul nodded silently, and the two walked along the central passage of the sanctuary, with gene culture chambers on both sides floating in a dark blue liquid.

Their task was to accompany Karna to conduct a technical review of the local rejuvenation techniques.

The sound array system not far from them was still broadcasting that the Dawn Fleet had cracked a case of heretical attack, the culprit had surrendered, and the recovery of the devastating weapon had been completed, indicating that the public should not panic.

Compared to the Dark Angels and Alpha, which developed mortal agents specifically for military deployments, Aglaia relied on her connections in Terra to weave an intelligence network among the upper classes of various prosperous star sectors.

The agents working under her command, known as "Grey Hats," are all genuine Terran nobles.

Especially when the Wings of Dawn, after a short period of development, were already able to provide various departments with merchant ronin licenses, noble certifications, and necessary military support such as that from the Astartes.

Having resources and status makes one worthy of attention, no matter where they are placed.

Therefore, she was able to quickly grasp the upper class situation of a sector based on the needs of the Dawnwings and through the interaction of Imperial nobles, and achieve various goals according to the Primarch's intentions.

The young judge did this very well, after all, she had survived the mountains of corpses and seas of blood in Terra, and these were the means by which she made her living.

Compared to the past—

"My lord, this is a meeting permission from the Caster family of Red Earth Star, which requires your consent."

"My lord, this is an inquiry from the Belisarius Navigator family of Terra, who require your communication."

"grown ups."

"grown ups!"

Inside the room, the scent of incense drifted slowly through the air, and candlelight flickered on gilded candlesticks, casting long shadows onto the tapestry embroidered with imperial eagles.

Aglaia narrowed her eyes slightly and, guided silently by the Calidus assassin disguised as a servant, stepped into the room. She then took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, removing the smell of gunpowder from the execution of the rebellious nobles of the Vigilant Star.

Her gaze swept across the bed—

There were soft, warm bedding piled up there, and the round bed sags inward like warm arms embracing her, inviting her to come inside.

Swallowing hard, Aglaia, her head buzzing, sat down on the edge of the desk without hesitation.

Lord Ramses's office system is too ruthless.

I used to have an easy job.

Aglaia's fingers unconsciously traced a tiny mark on the table, her mind racing through the flood of information, but she didn't rush to write anything down.

Outside the window, the giant exhaust fans of the hive city emitted a low hum, and occasionally the searchlights of aircraft swept across, casting fleeting spots of light into the room.

She still remembered the ambiguous smile on Lord Ramses's face when she first approached him, trying to experience the convenience of 5G communication.

Those eyes clearly conveyed the message that "this young lady is somewhat reckless and doesn't know what's good for her."

Now I regret it.
But we can't just not do it.

It's important to understand that this office system is limited by the scarcity of psionic operators; even within the Dawnwing, only a handful of members have access to it.

If she chooses to slack off, it would be a desecration of this strategic resource.

She can't accept it!
The Calidus assassin skillfully ground inksticks inscribed with sacred runes, then spread a parchment scroll on the table. A steaming cup of coffee was gently pushed toward the Inquisitor, and invigorating incense was lit.

After doing all this, she turned around, intending to disappear into the shadows.

"and many more--"

A look of exhaustion suddenly appeared on Aglaia's face, and she called out to the assassin.

"You can't go!"

“I remember you received complete knightly and noble training. The Incaradion knightly family infiltration plan is entrusted to you, and I will review it.”

The judge's voice carried an unwavering firmness that brooked no refusal.

Visibly, a hint of despair appeared on the face of this Calidus assassin.

The work in the Empire is simply inhuman.
-
"It's not acceptable to be thinking about slacking off and doing nothing at such a young age."

Tarasin, who was still clinging to Kaul hoping to get some good stuff, was watching with a smile as the little judge started to scheme against himself in order to better achieve his life goals.

Let me enjoy the work that's yours.

(End of this chapter)