I Say Front Gate Tower, You Think Hipbone Shaft

The brass pot seemed to boil with even greater agitation after all those ingredients were added. Creed even felt that the rising steam had taken on a reddish tint, and it was torturing his respiratory system.

Even the cheap smoke made by underhive gangs smelled far better than this stuff!

Creed roared inwardly. He clenched his fists and forcibly restrained himself from drawing his pistol right there and blowing apart their heads, along with that blasphemous brass pot.

Tovens looked at Creed with unfathomable eyes, occasionally exchanging glances with the other Vostroyan officers. Strange smiles flowed across the dining table.

He knew those rigid Cadians could not endure the red gem bestowed upon the Vostroyans by The Emperor—Emperor's Flame!

Though Vostokhan lacked Fenris's bone-stripping, skin-flaying winds, it had its own deadly peculiarities.

Vostokhan was shrouded year-round in rain clouds. Those clouds only ever produced drizzles, so they did not flood the planet, but they created an excessively damp and cold climate. The sun could be seen for only thirteen days each year, and those days naturally became the best time to hold the Emperor's Ascension Festival.

The people of Vostokhan lived beneath dark clouds and fine rain. Before fiery red peppers were discovered, damp-cold sickness had been an inescapable companion to the Vostroyans. Many had lost their ability to serve The Emperor under its torment.

Unable to bear seeing the people suffer, an Ecclesiarchy bishop decided to seek a path to salvation for the planet's people in his own way—by searching the Ecclesiarchy's sacred texts for the Emperor's guidance.

In the end, he found a copied tome in the library, written by a high-ranking sister of the Sisters Hospitaller.

It plainly stated: "Do not fear strange diseases. Remember that The Emperor is the omniscient and omnipotent Creator. He had long