The Captain's Thoughts

The battle by the river bend had ended.

The serfs, who had been shivering in the crude, communal shacks next door, were driven out. A low-ranking non-commissioned officer from the Waste Mine Company announced to them that they had been liberated by the Governor and had gained their freedom.

Upon hearing this, the serfs didn't react at all. These people had never considered freedom to be a good thing; they didn't even understand what the word meant.

Did freedom mean the precariousness of wandering the wastelands in the past? Did it mean the hunger and cold they endured while scraping by at the foot of Revival City?

Back then, they were certainly "free"—they could do whatever they wanted—but they had no food to eat, no clothes to wear, and they saw people die every single day: some from starvation, some from sickness, some murdered by bandits... all sorts of ways.

Winter, in particular, was the hardest to endure.

Compared to those times, they were actually quite satisfied with their current lives. Although the food was poor and the labor was grueling, they were the workforce of the fields, and their master wouldn't let them starve—at least, not until they lost their ability to work.

And now, a group of people claiming to be subordinates of the Governor had arrived, fought a chaotic battle, and it seemed their master was finished, leaving them "liberated" and "free."

But they were bewildered.

Huh? I'm free?

They almost shed tears.

However, the next announcement put them much more at ease.

They didn't know what was good about freedom, but they at least knew that bread was a good thing.

A sufficient supply of food was distributed. The serfs—oh, now they were "free citizens"—who had always only been half-fed, devoured the food ravenously.

While they were eating, someone announced the arrangements for the future.

They were no longer serfs, but free citizens under the Governor's rule. From now on, the Governor would personally manage the entire Mantan Valley Manor and needed a large number of agricultural laborers. Room and board would be provided, along with a bonus that, while not large, would grow with production. They were free to come and go without restriction, and those willing to stay could accept employment.

Only a fool would leave.

In an instant, the panic, confusion, and helplessness in the hearts of the serfs vanished.

They didn't need to understand anything else; as long as they knew they wouldn't go hungry or blow in the cold wind, that was enough.

After eating their fill, it was time to get to work. Corpses needed to be collected and burned, walls destroyed in the fighting needed to be repaired, and fields that had been trampled or bombed needed to be tended to, so that as much of the harvest as possible could be saved.

The entire manor was already bustling with activity.

After Yan Fangxu finished arranging the affairs, there wasn't much else for him to do.

He stared at the rolling hills across the river bend, lost in thought.

Because of the psyker—or rather, the cultist—he had just encountered, he was contemplating his own future.

When he was sent to the surface to serve as the Governor's guard, he had originally felt that his prospects were bleak.

He still remembered that day, before the Governor left the starship to descend to the surface, when he sought armed protection from the captain, Yelicia. The Brigadier had originally only intended to send the Governor three hundred Servitors to get it over with.

But then, he had been bored that day and made a joke to his colleagues about a woman with no experience being promoted to captain at light speed—a joke about the Brigadier.

More importantly, the captain had heard him.

The God-Emperor is my witness, he didn't actually have any strong opinions about the female captain; he was just following the lead of his colleagues who were making the same jokes.

But why did the captain have to hear it right when he was the one speaking?

Shit!

It just so happened that the Governor, named Gu Hang, was complaining that three hundred Servitors were too few, so Yelicia waved her hand and ordered him to take thirty Marine Corps soldiers to join the Governor's retinue.

Amidst the laughter and schadenfreude of his colleagues, he, a young Marine Corps captain, had no choice but to take thirty men down to the surface.

He was devastated, feeling that his life was ruined.

Who didn't know that the Governor of Nuxiao Planet was just a consumable replaced every two years? As a mere captain, offending the captain and being thrown to the surface was equivalent to exile. Even if he protected this Governor well, the man would inevitably be executed for failing to pay taxes. He would waste two years on Nuxiao Planet with no hope of advancement.

But he still had to fulfill his duty. On one hand, it was the sense of responsibility of a soldier; on the other, if the Governor were executed by the Tax Department, that was one thing, but if he died under his protection, the responsibility would be his.

As for the Governor eventually managing to pay the taxes, securing his position, leading the planet to revival, and then, in gratitude for his help during the early days, becoming his patron and helping him rise to greatness?

He had dreamed of such things, but he didn't dare think about them while awake.

Of course, he hoped the future would be like that, but it was too unlikely. Especially since the Governor was being whimsical, not planning to quickly seize the Alliance government to find a way to pay taxes, but instead thinking about developing the territory from scratch... God-Emperor above, where would you find the time?

But then he thought, what did that have to do with him? Anyway, he wouldn't be the one being executed.

Then, as time passed, his heart gradually began to stir. The thoughts he only dared to have in his dreams when he first landed on the surface began to surface occasionally while he was awake.

Is it actually possible for Gu Hang to succeed?

The reason he thought this wasn't just because of the way Governor Gu Hang always seemed to have everything under control. He had seen many people who put on airs; he didn't know, and didn't want to confirm, if the Governor was one of them.

He didn't want to look at attitudes; he only believed in facts.

The fact was that this Governor was a rare psyker, and he participated in battles alongside them. They had won two battles and captured two camps. This achievement wasn't big enough—far from enough to save their lives—but the Governor was indeed pushing his plan forward.

Furthermore, the Governor had somehow acquired two Black Box Fabricators. The Imperial Mechanicus would likely pay a high price for such miraculous things.

These displays gave him some confidence in the Governor beyond just his sense of duty, especially those two black boxes.

Perhaps, things weren't entirely hopeless?

And today, he and the Governor had met a psyker. At first, he thought the man named Vaughan was just an ordinary psyker, but according to the Governor's judgment, he was a cultist.

A cult, a heretic... that was a very good enemy. If the so-called Primal Owlbear Cult was definitively identified as a heretical cult, then the credit for wiping them out would be significant.

Yet he still harbored doubts; was that truly a "cult"?

Was it just a fabrication by the Governor to secure more aid, or was it the truth?

I've been Tzeentched; chapters 22 and 23 were supposed to be for tomorrow, I messed up the scheduled release...

Just consider it a bonus update for today, brothers! There will still be two chapters as usual tomorrow.

My stockpile has suffered heavy losses...

For those who haven't read 22 yet, you can go back and check it; it's already up.