Standing before Yarrick was not a military colleague, but a man dressed in the extravagant attire of an Imperial noble.
His blond hair was ticulously combed, looking as though every single strand had been subjected to painstaking grooming. His military dress uniform was crisply ironed, its silver dals gleaming with a cold luster in the dim light. The lace at his collar and cuffs was immaculately white, making him look completely and utterly out of place amidst the ruined, smoke-filled, blood-soaked environnt of the battlefield.
Beside the noble stood a few soldiers who looked less like shock troops ant to break enemy lines and more like personal attendants.
Though they wore the uniforms of the Planetary Defense Force (PDF), they lacked any semblance of martial ferocity. They gave off the distinct impression of n who had never taken a life.
Yarrick's furious glare did not unsettle the noble in the slightest. He rely lifted his chin a fraction and said, "Commissar Yarrick, calm yourself. I am here to assist you."
"Assist?"
This statent was a blatant insult to Yarrick's military expertise. He was practically laughing out of sheer anger.
Just monts ago, upon seeing the Greenskin horde begin to rout, Yarrick had been preparing to organize the soldiers of the Steel Legion into armored pursuit squadrons to ruthlessly hunt the Orks down, maximizing casualties and shattering their remaining organization.
But at that exact mont, this PDF unit had marched right through the breach the Imperial Guard had just blown open, pouring into the Hive City's interior and clogging the advance.
The blood-crazed veterans of the Steel Legion had nearly opened fire on this sudden, unidentified force, mistaking them for Orks. It was only when they spotted human faces that they lowered their weapons.
"First, your actions have completely disrupted our regint's operational routes. We are now unable to deploy our armored assets and fan out to pursue the Greenskins," Yarrick said coldly, barely suppressing his rage. "Second, these are Greenskins, not Underhive mutants you can hunt for sport! Even though they are currently routed, their brutal, cunning nature remains intact. A new Ork Nob could erge at any second, rally a mob, and bite right back at you."
"And when your utterly untrained Planetary Defense Force breaks and scatters, I'll be the one forced to clean up your ss!"
"Do not be so alarmist, Commissar Yarrick. Look at those xenos; do they truly look as though they possess the strength for a counterattack?"
Having listened to the Commissar's tirade, the noble rely smirked with disdain.
Yarrick's eye twitched.
Given his deep understanding of Greenskin psychology, he was actually quite baffled himself. Normally, even if an Ork Warboss was executed on the spot, the resulting loss of morale shouldn't have triggered a rout this absolute, where the Orks did nothing but bury their heads and sprint for their lives.
Yarrick had even witnessed nurous Orks pushing each other over in their blind panic, trampling the corpses of their own comrades to flee faster. Their eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated terror—every trace of their fanatical lust for battle completely erased.
Just what exactly did Lord Rowan do? How did he manage to terrify these fearless Greenskins into such a pathetic state?
If it were possible, Yarrick—who harbored a deep, lifelong hatred for the Orks—truly wanted to learn this trick.
"Even if they are currently routed, your actions are still actively obstructing military operations," Yarrick pressed, refusing to yield an inch. "Furthermore, I highly suspect your motives. I've been observing your n; they aren't seriously trying to terminate the xenos. Instead, they are rely herding them around, using the chaos to push deeper into the Hive."
"What is your true objective?"
The noble chuckled, entirely ignoring Yarrick's question, and shifted the topic. "We are not obstructing military operations; we are providing you with cover. Your forces are limited, and this Hive City is massive. Our inclusion is the optimal way to thoroughly purge these Greenskins."
"I do not require this kind of assistance," Yarrick snorted coldly.
"That is debatable."
The noble's smile remained unwavering, though a look of calculated confidence flashed in his eyes. "Commissar Yarrick, how exactly did your armored battalion acquire its current artillery support? If we hadn't provided you with that assistance, I doubt you would have been able to defeat these Greenskins, would you?"
Why is he bringing this up?
Yarrick was completely bewildered.
It was true that due to the Steel Legion's highly specialized organizational structure, his armored regint fundantally lacked sufficient indirect fire support. Therefore, upon making planetfall, Yarrick had decisively and ruthlessly commandeered the artillery batteries belonging to the local Planetary Defense Force.
Naturally, several nobles had attempted to intervene and broker deals, but Yarrick—who possessed the biggest guns—had entirely ignored them.
You call that 'providing assistance'? I took it from you by force!
Ignorant of Yarrick's internal monologue, the Imperial noble continued speaking, his tone carrying a thinly veiled threat.
"However, it is quite unfortunate that those artillery pieces and munitions were originally designated to be surrendered as our planet's Imperial Tithe. If the Departnto Munitorum were to learn of this misappropriation, I fear it might negatively impact the rest of your esteed career."
Yarrick suddenly fell silent.
It wasn't out of fear, but out of sheer, speech-stealing exasperation.
What in the Emperor's na is this fool thinking?
Oh, right.
Does he still not know about the apocalyptic reinforcents that just arrived on this planet?
Mistaking Yarrick's stunned silence for begrudging submission, the Imperial noble spoke with the air of a victor: "So, now that we have reached an understanding, there is no need to bicker over such trivial matters."
"This is a mutually beneficial arrangent. You will receive your comndations from the Departnto Munitorum, and we will achieve our objectives."
"Rest assured, this will not trace back to you in the slightest. I imagine a man who will soon be departing this world wouldn't concern himself with sothing as tedious as which noble house the new Hive City Governor happens to hail from, correct?"
"Oh, is that so?"
A calm, flat female voice echoed from directly behind the noble.
Who is that? Who dares to be so insolent?
Though the noble maintained his composed facade, intense displeasure flared within him.
To brazenly interrupt him while he was speaking was a gross violation of etiquette—sothing that deeply offended the sensibilities ingrained in his aristocratic bones.
And as for the useless, sycophantic servants surrounding him, they couldn't even perform the simple task of keeping strays away!
Once I return to my estate, I'll feed them all to my pets. At least then they'll serve so practical use.
Thinking this, he turned around slowly, his posture and etiquette flawlessly impeccable.
And then, the Imperial noble froze, his body rigidly locked in place.
There was no esoteric reason for this paralysis; it was simply because he saw the accessory pinned to the garnts of the woman standing before him.
It was a silver-grey Rosette of the Inquisition.
Oh no! The plot has been exposed!
That was the very first thought that violently exploded within his mind.
--------------------------
Read 30 chapters ahead on Patreon!
spatreon/goatmama
User Comments
0 comments from readers