Bayev, as Eden's senior steward, was naturally well-inford on the situation.
He detailed the areas currently under control, the state of the army, population, and the status of enemy factions.
Aside from the Spire where the palace was located, Eden controlled about one-third of the upper hive and commanded a planetary defense force of over 50,000 troops.
The rest of the upper hive was dominated by the Hoffman family and various warbands, the most notable being the Gray Wolf Warband.
In the aftermath of the rebellion, the upper hive had beco chaotic, reflecting the turmoil across the entire hive city.
Once vassals of the Grant family, the Hoffman family had made their ambitions clear.
The assassination attempt last night was almost certainly orchestrated by them.
Their power was growing day by day, and it was only a matter of ti before they launched a full-scale assault.
Bad news ca one after another.
However, there was so good news as well.
The rebellion had caused millions of refugees to flood into the upper hive, where they remained.
Eden now controlled nearly two million people.
This gave him a solid population base to work with.
If he managed them well, he could generate enough hope energy to restore part of Little Sun's capabilities.
With ti, reclaiming the lower hive was no longer just a dream.
"Forget the lower hive for now, let's start with inspecting the areas we control in the upper hive," Eden decided.
"For the love of the Emperor, that's too dangerous," Bayev protested, clearly worried. "You should stay in the palace. Assassins from the Hoffman family have been waiting for an opportunity. If sothing happens to you, the entire Grant family will be finished!"
Eden wasn't convinced. He looked at Bayev, "You can protect , right?"
If his own people couldn't protect him within their own territory, they were practically useless.
He might as well lay his neck bare and wait for soone to cut it.
Besides, as a psyker, Eden wasn't without the ans to defend himself.
In a world where strength ruled, cowardice was a fatal flaw.
Eden was cautious, but he wasn't a coward.
As the planetary governor and ruler of Urth, if he stayed hidden in the palace, avoiding his people and failing to make promises, he would lose their trust and respect as the situation worsened.
If that continued, his power would crumble, and his rule would fail.
All that awaited Eden then was death.
"My lord, we can protect you!" Bayev straightened up, speaking with conviction.
The assassination attempt the previous night had deeply shad Bayev. That he had allowed the bloodline of the Grant family to be placed in such danger was unforgivable!
He swore with his life that he would never let the governor be hard again.
"Good!" Eden's tone left no room for doubt. "It's decided then."
After making arrangents, Eden followed Bayev out of the palace.
Escorted by Carter and his squad of elite guards, they boarded a hovercar and drove out of the Spire.
It was only then that Eden truly saw the state of the palace district.
Everywhere were the scars of war, with craters and wreckage scattered about.
Luxurious buildings and finely crafted statues, many over a thousand years old, were now broken and dilapidated.
Given such a catastrophe, the palace district had barely held itself together—there was no capacity to make repairs.
As the hovercar passed through the Sacred Square, Eden looked up at the massive hundred-ter statue of the Emperor, feeling awe.
Unfortunately, the Emperor's statue had also been damaged: the nose had been blown off by so heretic, one arm was missing, and rubble littered the base.
Beyond the palace district, the scene beca crowded and filthy.
The upper hive, once a haven for nobles and officials, had been sparsely populated, with most of its space dedicated to residential areas, entertainnt streets, and gardens—there was hardly any industry.
After the rebellion, the upper hive lost its supply of resources from the lower hive, leading to extre shortages.
As a result, the upper hive had been drastically transford, with makeshift industrial zones and mushroom farms hastily established, and corpse-starch production lines activated.
Refugees were organized into labor, working in various factories, mines, and farms.
Even so, the upper hive couldn't support so many people.
Resources were rapidly depleting, and food was growing scarcer by the day.
More and more people couldn't even afford their daily ration of corpse-starch, and were starving to death.
Countless people were born into filth, toiled in agony, and died in the streets, with no one to sing their praises or mourn their passing.
Such was their fate.
As Eden sat in the hovercar, watching the people on the streets collapse from hunger, he felt a deep sadness for them.
"How many people die here every day?" Eden asked.
"People die every day, it's hard to keep track," Bayev shook his head. "Honestly, the citizens here have it relatively good. If they were under the Hoffman family or the warbands, they'd be suffering a fate worse than death..."
Eden remained silent, noticing the way the people on the streets looked at him—confusion, apathy, fear, and even hatred.
The situation was worse than he had imagined!
Winning the people's support would be nearly impossible now. He'd be lucky if a major rebellion didn't break out.
Not far away, an elderly woman collapsed and died on the ground, her body eyed hungrily by onlookers.
But they were quickly dispersed as ard corpse-collectors arrived to drag the body away.
Bayev noticed Eden's puzzled expression and explained, "All resources are incredibly precious here. Nothing can go to waste."
Eden suddenly realized what was happening.
The bodies weren't being taken for burial or incineration—they were being sent to special machines to be broken down into proteins, to be turned into corpse-starch and sustain more lives.
It was brutal, but necessary.
Eden quietly resolved that he had to change this, but there was so little he could do right now.
The warehouses were running out of food, and soon the palace district wouldn't even be able to support the army.
Rumor had it that conditions in the territories controlled by the Hoffman family and the Gray Wolf Warband were even worse, with food supplies completely exhausted.
To maintain control, they had started slaughtering those who were too weak or unfit to work, turning them into corpse-starch to feed their armies.
They, too, had millions of people, and could hold out for quite so ti.
The upper hive was now a sealed-off cauldron, where only the most ruthless and poisonous would survive.
But Eden refused to claim victory through such cruel ans—he had to find another way.
Perhaps the Little Sun in the Warp could help him break this deadlock.
As nightfall approached, Eden had seen enough suffering and couldn't bear to look any longer.
"Let's head back," he said, closing his eyes and instructing Bayev to take him ho.
By the ti they returned to the Spire, the maids had already prepared dinner.
Eden sat in the luxurious dining room, looking at the sumptuous al laid before him, but he had little appetite.
The situation was dire—he had to find a way to break through.
(End of Chapter)
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