Reclamation, From the Oppressor

Warm and comfortable Upper Fortress of Karax.

Inside the office, paneled with rare and precious wood from Chemos, Herod leisurely received one report after another from his subordinates.

Ever since the old master was assassinated, he had relied on his own patrol squad to successfully capture his siblings, who also coveted the position, and had become the true power holder of Karax Fortress.

The process was far from easy, but fortunately, the outcome was worth it.

"You may leave now, Raul. If the workers come to protest again, bring more stun batons and guards."

He lazily ordered the shabbily dressed, oddly featured lackey before him.

Though the man was somewhat dull-witted and his behavior even unhinged, he was loyal and capable, handling matters properly.

"Yes, master."

As the subordinate departed, the room once again belonged to him alone.

That woman Fulgrim was truly foolish.

Leaning back in the leather chair to rest, Herod sneered as he looked at the exquisite decor around him.

Improving mechanical production was indeed a good thing.

But unfortunately, the first thing she thought of after increasing efficiency wasn't the nobles, but those lowly workers.

Giving all those gleaming resources to the poor was bad enough, but she also spent a great deal of time teaching them literacy and art, prattling on about "bringing beauty back to Chemos"?

What a travesty.

He had planned to properly discipline her after the marriage alliance, to make her see the reality that people were born unequal.

Who would have thought she not only refused to appreciate it but stubbornly chose to get engaged to that useless Kasgar!

If this continued, wouldn't the workers all become idle loafers, spending their days not on work but on studying useless plays and philosophy?

Wouldn't that make them no different from nobles!

Then how could they flaunt their noble status, and how could they call themselves aristocrats?

Thankfully, he, Herod, had used his schemes to sabotage the Engagement Ceremony and successfully drove a wedge between Fulgrim and the workers, making those fools believe Fulgrim had betrayed them.

And after seizing power, he immediately ordered the workers' hours to be gradually restored to normal.

The lower class ought to serve the upper class permanently, not waste their energy on artistic creation.

That was nothing but a complete waste of resources.

He would reclaim those precious resources wasted on the workers and repurpose them as products of the nobility.

As for the two still on the run—

Now that they were estranged, even if Fulgrim was formidable, she shouldn't be able to stir up much trouble.

Tch.

What a pity about that perfect face of hers, though.

"Report!"

Just as he was still pondering countermeasures against the two in his mind, the office door suddenly swung open.

Raul, who had just left the room, grinned with a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth and rushed in to kneel, his face wearing an awkward smile.

It gave him quite a start.

"Slow down, Raul. Slow down."

"Maybe you really should learn some normal manners, just like those workers who only know how to riot."

Herod complained, rubbing his forehead.

"Speak. What is it?"

"It's Fulgrim! We found her!"

"Oh?" He straightened up, suddenly interested. "Finally. After all this time hunting her, we can finally capture her."

His patrol squad wasn't entirely useless after all.

"Tell me, Raul. Where is that woman now?"

"She—"

"She's right outside your door, master."

Having a blade pressed to one's neck was no pleasant feeling.

Especially when it was held by a demigod nearly three meters tall.

"Fulgrim, what exactly do you want?"

Herod's tone was bluster masking fear.

The battle ended quickly.

Faced with the sudden attacker, he immediately organized his most trusted Police Inspector squad to fight back.

Every one of them was a skilled fighter; some could even take on an entire patrol squad alone without losing ground.

They swarmed forward, and even with Fulgrim's towering frame and innate strength, she couldn't have fended off their encirclement.

That should have been the case.

But then, he watched helplessly as his elite troops fell in droves at an alarming speed.

The swordplay Fulgrim traced was an art of supreme elegance and swiftness.

Under her flawlessly precise movements, even the finest swordsman of Karax couldn't last a single exchange.

Many had their weapons sent flying before they could even register her motions.

Herod couldn't grasp how this giant, nearly three meters tall, could wield such blindingly fast technique.

Yet reality stood as it was.

The chasm in strength between them turned all his prior scheming into a joke.

As for the first and last time he saw that icy gleam, it was when it rested against his own throat.

How many heads did he have, to dare engage Fulgrim in melee?

Did he really think this was Nuceria, and she was Angron?

"Fulgrim, you... you dare provoke a noble with brutish force!"

Herod's face flickered with uncertainty.

He had truly underestimated his opponent's strength.

But seeing that she only disarmed the patrol without taking lives, he mustered some bravado to bluster.

Surely this woman still feared the nobles' methods.

She ought to.

"I warn you, Fulgrim."

"The other nobles of Karax have all sworn alliance with me. If you harm us, the entire fortress will fall!"

"Oh?"

She raised an eyebrow slightly.

Herod snorted coldly. "We control the fortress's facility systems! If you lay a hand on me or the nobles, without our leadership—"

"The enraged masses will smuggle the Melt-Explosive Charges and fortress blueprints outside the walls, letting the other nobles' remnants avenge me!"

"Hahaha! Then blow the fortress sky-high—if we die, we all die together!"

A flicker of madness gleamed in Herod's eyes.

"The outsiders! That's right, the outsiders!"

"Send the big bombs to the Sulfa people outside the city!"

Raul chimed in with a timely, grotesque echo.

"Raul, you idiot! I never said the Sulfa people!"

"The Sulfa people?"

Rarely, Fulgrim's expression turned grave.

The Sulfa people were the largest nomadic tribe on the planet Chemos.

If Chagatai Khan had descended on Chemos as expected, he would likely have been a carefree biker among them.

But fate always twisted things.

Through some meddling of Warp forces, it was Fulgrim who ended up on Chemos, found by Karax fortress workers.

As for combat, every Sulfa was a formidable fighter.

With their masterful swordsmen and scrap-bikes assembled from ancient machinery, even surviving the harsh, sand-blasted wastelands, their battle prowess remained fierce and unyielding.

If they got their hands on the Melt-Explosive Charges and fortress maps, the consequences would be dire.

Even if Fulgrim herself feared nothing, Karax Fortress, lacking combat strength, could well fall.

"The troublemakers you arranged before—they were Sulfa people, weren't they?"

She asked coldly.

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kill me if you will, if you can accept the fortress falling to internal strife without noble leadership, and ultimately being lost."

Herod turned his head away, eyes shut, posing like a martyr facing death with dignity.

"No," she shook her head. "You seem to misunderstand something."

"I never said I would kill you."

With that, she sheathed her gleaming blade.

An elegant and perfect Primarch would not stoop to such crude means to conquer Karax.

That was the way of tyrants and despots.

And she, Fulgrim, had her own unique methods.

"Herod, I merely came to invite you to a play."

She said with a smile.