Warhammer, I promise I am loyal!!

He should feel fortunate about the special relationship between the Aurelians and the Ecclesiarchy.

If a large-scale rebellion were to break out on this planet under his feet, the Imperial Fleet would likely intervene under the pressure of the Ecclesiarchy.

Other planets, however, without the same connections as the Aurelians, would have to fend for themselves.

After all, the resources consumed by deploying an Imperial Fleet are astronomical.

The empire's territories are so vast that most planetary governors are selected through competitive means—a highly efficient method to serve the Empire—without relying on a bloated and inefficient bureaucratic system.

Terra's stance is clear.

As long as you pay the Tithe Eleven, you're recognized by the Ministry of the Interior as a bona fide planetary governor of the Empire.

If, in addition to paying taxes, you also contribute funds to the Ecclesiarchy for their local missionary work, upon your death, the Ecclesiarchy might even canonize you as a saint.

"Sigh."

"Sigh."

Simultaneously, the two of them couldn't help but sigh as they reached this point.

This mutual reaction slightly eased the tension between them caused by the morning's conversation.

"Of course, if you're referring to the Aurelian-controlled territories, certain northern provinces like Beltrand seem to be preparing for rebellion, and on the southern borders, skirmishes with the Closterman family have never ceased."

"It seems the Aurelians' rule isn't as stable as they like to present it to the outside world," Leon commented.

In truth, like most planets in the Empire, the Aurelians were merely the dominant faction on this planet.

They were not the only faction here.

Many families who had surrendered alongside the Aurelians to the Empire still retained their own armies and territories.

These families wouldn't hesitate to exploit any weakness in the Aurelians to seize the position of planetary governor.

This was the very reason why the Aurelians couldn't simply kill Leon outright and annex his nominal territory using the most direct means.

The Sarka family still controlled the majority of the northern provinces.

The last war had only temporarily subdued these descendants of prairie nomads. With the Mechanicum's support, their mobile city-states, used to chasing pastures, could still produce a continuous stream of equipment to arm their tribal warriors, even under the harshest conditions—such as enduring the Aurelian fleet's relentless bombardment.

The inherent ferocity of the prairie tribes made them born warriors.

If the Aurelians insisted on forcibly annexing them, they would undoubtedly pay a devastating price.

That was a cost the Aurelians could not afford.

Surrounded by opportunists, the Aurelians needed to maintain absolute dominance over the other factions on this planet at all times. This was why the northern provinces continued to exist.

"…"

Mireille uncharacteristically fell silent.

But soon, she spoke up, her tone tinged with unease.

"I've received a message from the family—they want us to head to the governor's mansion to attend a family meeting after we land."

Hearing this, Leon immediately sat up from the soft couch, his gaze turning serious.

It was obvious. During the Aurelian patriarch's inspection of the northern provinces, the only task worthy of convening a meeting at the governor's mansion would be handled by Leon's dear elder brother, the one in charge of state affairs during the patriarch's absence.

Leonell Angelo Aurelian.

"Angelo. What scheme is he up to now?"

Leon doubted that this sudden meeting had nothing to do with him.

After all, he had just returned, and the family had already urgently called a meeting.

Leon narrowed his eyes.

There was no doubt—this was aimed at him.

If it were the original host of this body, he would have likely been enraged by now.

Whether it was storming into the governor's mansion in a fit of anger to confront the Aurelian elders or fleeing in fear of punishment, both would likely end poorly.

"Let's go to the governor's mansion—"

"Let's see what kind of tricks they're playing this time."

Leon said calmly. Hearing this, Mireille, who was piloting the airship for landing, subconsciously tightened her grip on the control stick. Out of Leon's sight, her face, focused on the navigation system, was filled with unresolved worry.

-----------------------

"Have you secured the items?"

Before stepping into the heavily guarded and resplendent palace, Leon softly asked the girl beside him.

Mireille nodded.

After confirming that the two relics had been safely stored, Leon touched the small piece of a power claw, a relic from the Beast Wars, he carried in his pocket.

Just in case.

Although Leon didn't believe the Aurelians would take action against him here, as far as he knew, there were factions within the family interested in using his Aurelian bloodline to gradually assimilate the rebellious northern tribes.

Obviously, killing him in broad daylight would not only provoke the northern provinces—recently pacified by the last governor—but also lead to internal division within the Aurelian family.

Still—

Relying on others to decide his fate was a detestable feeling.

Leon gazed at the luxurious palace before him, symbolizing the pinnacle of planetary authority.

The reinforced marble walls could withstand sustained bombardment from light siege cannons.

Watchtowers and bunkers dotted the perimeter, with underground warehouses storing enough weapons and supplies to arm two million men.

Psychers stationed in the watchtowers constantly monitored for any suspicious activity from the orbital starport.

Any ground-based rebellion would be swiftly suppressed by the Aurelian fleet—or the Imperial Navy stationed here under the Ecclesiarchy's orders.

The silvery starport far above glimmered ceaselessly, each flash signifying another stream of Thrones Coins flowing into the Aurelian family's coffers.

With such immense power and wealth secured, the Aurelians' rule over this planet seemed unshakable.

Expressionless, Leon stepped into the governor's mansion.

The soldiers clad in exoskeleton armor on either side remained stoic. However, when Mireille tried to follow behind Leon, the bayonets affixed to their laser rifles gleamed coldly in the sunlight, blocking her path.

"The acting governor has ordered that only the second young master may attend the meeting."

"You—"

Mireille's face turned red with anger.

She had never heard of Aurelian family members being prohibited from bringing aides or record-keepers to meetings.

Such treatment was reserved for the Aurelians' vassals and servants.

Just as Mireille opened her mouth to argue, Leon, not far away, seemed to notice something. His pupils shrank. But quickly, his experience across two lifetimes forced him to regain outward calm—at least on the surface.

"Wait here for me—"

Hearing this, Mireille stopped arguing. However, watching Leon's solitary figure, her expression grew even more worried.

Leon, meanwhile, had no time to dwell on her concerns.

His gaze was fixed on the courtyard, on a newly installed massive stone tablet prominently displayed before the main hall.

The tablet was etched with three heretical circles.

Beneath the circles were inscriptions in three languages.

One was the Imperial standard High Gothic.

Another was the common tongue of Joachim.

The last was an older, stranger language, clearly foreign to this world.

The prayer inscribed read:

"The High Heavens call—when shall the One return!"

"All shall labor for His truth, in thought and deed."

"When all of Joachim is faithful to the Holy Truth, when all people can cry out in unison—this moment! The Saint shall descend."

Recalling the words on the tablet, Leon glanced at the brightly lit governor's hall. Before stepping inside, he tightened his grip on the shard of the Saint's relic hidden in his pocket.

.....

📢30 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢

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7. Opening with the Big Guns, Huh?

8. Very Well, But I Refuse!

9. Gold Explosion! In Every Sense!

10. Departure.

11. The Nun of San Leor.