Who Is the Heretic??

The reception was held in an exceptionally luxurious sky manor at the top of the Hive City.

The manor gleamed with gold and splendor. Under the warm air blown out by ventilation machines, all kinds of flowers and plants gave off a faint, slightly fishy scent of nature.

Everything here seemed utterly unrelated to the filthy Hive City outside.

It was a completely different world.

Crystal lamps suspended by floating servo-skulls hung one after another like the manor's suns, providing the guests at the reception with just the right amount of light.

Neither too glaring nor too dim.

Girls selected from the middle and lower levels of the Hive City and carefully trained wore revealing clothes as they moved among the guests, serving as drink attendants.

The girls all had very fair skin, with the sheen of white cream.

Their figures had all been technologically altered, making them look irresistibly alluring: fair-skinned, beautiful, long-legged, curvaceous, with perfect faces and a deadly attraction for men.

Every one of these drink attendants was a precious jewel, untouched by anyone.

Of course, if any guest wanted one, he could enjoy her to his heart's content.

House Glaus handled all the aftermath.

This was a display of House Glaus's immense wealth. They were never stingy about sharing such an insignificant portion of it.

They owned industries across several star systems. The wealth they earned every second was beyond anything commoners could imagine, more than those at the bottom could earn in several lifetimes, even dozens of lifetimes.

Many believed that unless House Glaus was declared traitorous by the Imperium, it could never decline.

But things were different now. Another threat had thrown House Glaus into a precarious crisis.

That threat was the reforms pushed by Guilliman.

The old man claiming that Guilliman had betrayed them was a member of House Glaus.

He was an elderly nobleman who had undergone repeated rejuvenation procedures. He had lived for more than four hundred years, spanning four centuries.

House Glaus's immense wealth allowed him to enjoy costly medical procedures and thus prolong his life.

It was worth mentioning that, according to Ministry of the Interior statistics from a century ago, the average life expectancy on Natal Planet was only fifty-five years.

Large numbers of workers labored in toxic industries, and most did not even live to see fifty.

For an old nobleman to live four hundred years was truly outrageous.

That was equivalent to more than ten generations of people from the middle and lower classes.

The old nobleman saw things clearly. Guilliman's reforms were destined to inflict terrible losses on House Glaus, leaving them unable to maintain their extravagant way of life.

House Glaus had offered more than five thousand years of loyalty to the Emperor.

And now Guilliman was taking it all back. This was undoubtedly a complete and utter betrayal of House Glaus.

Such betrayal filled the members of House Glaus with indignation, and they openly declared that they would not accept any of Guilliman's reforms.

The old nobleman's shout drew the attention of the other nobles.

They whispered among themselves, their faces likewise showing anger.

To them, Guilliman's actions were simply incomprehensible, even stupid beyond belief.

Some nobles even believed that Guilliman was a mentally unstable Tyrant.

He was harming loyal servants of the Imperium, persecuting loyal families like theirs, and suppressing the Imperium's Loyalists.

If not for his status as a Primarch, these nobles would have wanted to report him directly to Terra, declare him a Chaos heretic, and request that every department across the Imperium unite to destroy him.

Targeting loyal nobles and weakening the Imperium's strength—how could a loyal Primarch possibly do such a thing??

He had to be a heretic.

Only heretics would commit such acts.

"We must stop his absurd actions," said a somewhat younger nobleman. "We have offered thousands of years of loyalty to the Imperium. Our loyalty is beyond reproach or doubt, yet he wants to dismiss us. More than ten thousand years of slumber have muddled his mind. We must make him understand that it is us who have kept the Imperium alive, not those idiotic commoners."

"Watch your words. Insulting a Primarch will be treated as treason," another nobleman said solemnly. "If you do not want to bring down the Emperor's angels upon yourself, restrain yourself."

"So what?? It is only death. House Bandik will not fear it. We are loyal to the Emperor and loyal to Terra. Death cannot make us submit. The greatest issue now is correcting the Primarch's mistakes. The Holy Emperor's system has operated for over ten thousand years, fully proving its superiority. Each family is loyal to Terra, and Terra is loyal to the Emperor. Everything is so orderly."

"And now the Primarch wants to break this system, take the rights of loyal families away, and give them to those foolish commoners who are so easily tempted. Such an idea is utterly absurd. Those stupid commoners are good for nothing. Aside from making their sons take up weapons to become common infantrymen and making their daughters wear bunny-girl outfits to pour drinks, what use do they have??"

The young man from House Bandik shouted, "Our fathers fought for the Imperium and protected this trash. Our status and identities are what we deserve, yet now he wants to take it all away. Is that fair??"

"It is indeed unfair, my fellow citizens. The Emperor rules Terra, Terra rules the nobles, the nobles rule the commoners, and the commoners offer everything to the nobles. That is the most perfect system. Yet Guilliman wants to destroy it and replace it with a foolish system. For the Imperium, for the Emperor, we truly should rise in resistance. House Glaus will obey only the orders of holy Terra, unless the Primarch can withdraw those foolish reforms."

The old nobleman of House Glaus shouted loudly.

The emotions of the many nobles at the reception were stirred as well.

They discussed in low voices the stupidity of Guilliman's reforms. Every one of them was filled with indignation, determined to give everything to protect the Imperium.

The reception ended.

Several corpses of drink attendants, bruised all over and bearing terrified expressions, were packaged together with the garbage and sent down to the lower levels on conveyor belts, where they were fiercely fought over.

The bodies were snatched clean by the vagrants of the lower levels, who immediately dismembered them and divided up the different parts.

Only some bloody water remained amid the heaps of refuse.

Something like this happened after every banquet.

Nobles caught up in their enjoyment always accidentally killed a few.

Such things meant nothing to them.

As long as the matter was cleaned up and the law enforcement agencies could not find the bodies, there would be no problem.

Even if there was a problem, House Glaus's power and influence could settle it easily.

Bells rang through the Hive City, while preachers' prayers to the Emperor echoed through loudspeakers in every corner.

A group of workers emerged from the rumbling factories, dragging their heavy steps into public transport vehicles running throughout the city.

Khaine was one of those workers. He was exhausted, feeling as though every bone in his body ached.

Twelve hours of labor had drained every bit of his physical strength and energy.

Looking out through the transport vehicle's window, he saw towering buildings lit by blinking neon lights.

A trace of confusion appeared on Khaine's face.

His father had been a worker, his mother had been a worker, and he too was a worker.

This life never changed. Every day, he ate the same canned food, slept in the same cramped room, listened to the sermons of an Ecclesiarchy Priest through a crude hololith, or watched dull videos to pass the time.

In another two years, the Birth Committee would assign him a wife. They would need to have a child within two years, or they would be deemed to have deliberately defied Imperial law, punished, and required to pay more taxes.

Families unable to bear the burden would be driven down to the lower levels and become pitiful vagrants.

He could see the end of his life at a glance: commuting to and from work every day, earning only enough wealth to barely survive.

The Tech-priests had calculated workers' wages to ensure they would not starve, but could never save money. They had to remain motivated to work at all times, or they would fall into the poverty of having nothing to eat.

In such a world, unless Khaine was willing to become a vagrant, there would be absolutely no change.

"I heard the Emperor's son has awakened."

Discussion came from the front row, making Khaine instinctively focus on listening.

"What does it have to do with us if he has awakened??"

"Maybe he can improve our lives."

"Stop dreaming. Everyone with power is the same. They will never care whether we live or die. They only see us as burdens and dead weight."

I originally wanted to write five chapters, but I fell asleep during my lunch break. I will do my best to make up for it tomorrow.