At the same time, in Brevis Prime Hive, at the Ecclesiarchy cathedral.
In the bishop's private study, Bishop Goodwin leaned back in a large armchair.
He wore a loose bishop's robe, without a heavy cap or a scepter, and his posture was languid.
He held a ceramic jar in his hands, which contained his homemade fruit wine, which had a low alcohol content but a rich fruity aroma.
He took a satisfying sip, squinted his eyes, and his face was full of contentment.
This was the most comfortable period of his three hundred years in office.
A Kerry arrived: Carey von Lynn, the Emperor's chosen one, whose combat prowess was unparalleled. He killed Orks like chickens and quickly stabilized the situation in the main hive.
Goodwin has even started thinking about retirement.
Just as he was having these thoughts, the wooden door to the study was suddenly pushed open.
Goodwin looked up and saw Lynn walk in with a "what the hell" expression on his face, his aura frighteningly low.
Goodwin chuckled and couldn't help but tease:
"Hey, who's messed with our hero? Come on, sit down and have a drink."
Lynn ignored his teasing, continued walking straight to her desk, and got straight to the point:
"Lord Goodwin, I have important matters to discuss with you!"
He looked up at Goodwin.
The next second, Lynn froze.
Goodwin's eyes are blue.
It wasn't the pure white holy eye that was the hallmark of the Ecclesiarchy bishops he was familiar with!
The Bolt Pistol at his waist was instantly drawn, its black muzzle pointed directly at Goodwin's forehead.
A chilling murderous glint flashed in his purple eyes. "Heretic! Where did you take Lord Goodwin?!"
The air froze instantly.
Goodwin paused for half a second, then realized what he meant and burst out laughing.
He laughed so hard he almost fell over, nearly dropping the wine jug on the ground.
"Haha, don't get excited, don't get excited, little Kerry!"
He quickly put down the wine jug, gently rubbed his eyelids, and then looked up.
Those blue eyes had disappeared, replaced by the pure white holy eyes that Lynn was familiar with.
"That was what my eyes really looked like." Goodwin pointed to his pupils, grinning from ear to ear.
"The white one from before was just someone wearing colored contact lenses to scare those nobles."
"How can we keep those lawless bastards in check without some sensationalism?"
Lynn: "..."
Seeing that Lynn didn't believe him, he activated " Eye of Purity ".
The uncomfortable feeling of being stripped naked washed over him, and he put away his Bolt Pistol and took a deep breath.
His tone carried a hint of helplessness. "Lord Goodwin, you..."
"Oh, you'll get used to it." Goodwin waved his hand, picked up the jug, and took another sip.
"Speak, what exactly happened that made our God of War so angry?"
Lynn composed himself and stated his plan:
"In the name of the Ecclesiarchy, I will launch a ' Purification Crusade ' against the Orks Dorito."
"At that time, all participating nobles must 'voluntarily contribute' money, food, supplies, and manpower—the more the better."
Goodwin understood instantly after hearing only half of it.
Goodwin laughed immediately, a hint of schadenfreude in his smile:
"Okay, I'll help you with this."
"Anyway, those parasites' money is better off being squandered; they'll just squander it anyway. We might as well use it to purify the Emperor heresy."
A cunning glint flashed in his eyes as he lowered his voice and warned:
"But I must warn you, shave as you please, but don't shave too hard."
"Even a cornered dog will jump over a wall; pushing them to the brink will only cause more trouble."
Lynn nodded. "I know what I'm doing."
"Alright." Goodwin picked up the jug and raised it towards Lynn, his pure white eyes shining with faith.
"Then, in the name of the Emperor, launch a Purification Crusade!!!"
Lynn looked at him, her voice firm. "For the Emperor!"
The next morning, as the first rays of dawn touched the Uptown, the entire aristocratic circle was thoroughly shaken.
Every single nobleman of any standing received two invitations.
A document from the Governor's Office.
The gold-embossed envelope, stamped with the bronze emblem of the Governor's Sceptre, and sealed with a solemn and cold wax seal, represented Brevis's highest secular power.
Another one came from the Ecclesiarchy Cathedral.
The pure white envelope, stamped with the golden seal of the Emperor's image, imbued with holy oil and exuding fragrance, represents the highest divine authority below the Emperor.
The two invitations, made of different materials and bearing different seals, contained almost identical content:
We cordially invite you to the Governor's Palace Banquet Hall to discuss the grand plan of the " Purification Crusade," to fight for the Emperor, and to purify the Orks heretics.
The only difference is the timing of the invitation.
Lynn divided all the nobles into several groups, inviting and meeting with them in batches.
Even a fool could see that.
This is not an invitation, this is a summons.
It was an ultimatum issued jointly by secular and divine powers.
Panic spread like a plague through every noble manor in the Uptown.
No one wanted to keep the appointment.
The scene that unfolded in the council chamber yesterday has already spread to every corner of the Uptown.
Chief Loren's collapse, Caladogon's indifference, Lynn's drunken departure.
It haunted the hearts of every nobleman like a nightmare.
They all knew that going to the appointment meant obediently handing over their entire savings.
So some people started trying every possible way to escape.
Chaos reigned at the Loren Family manor.
Chief Loren hadn't slept all night; his eyes were bloodshot, and all that remained of the flattery and probing he'd shown in the council hall the day before was fear.
"Quickly! Prepare the carriage!" he roared at the servants. "I'm leaving the Uptown to avoid trouble in the Lower City!"
The servants dared not delay and immediately went to prepare a vehicle.
But that morning, the servant came running back, scrambling and stumbling, his face ashen.
"Master! No! The entrance to the Uptown is blocked!"
"The Governor's Office has ordered all vehicles to cease departures and undergo security checks; no one is permitted to leave!"
Chief Loren's vision went black, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.
Running away won't work.
Some people thought of faking illness.
A minor nobleman lay in bed, wrapped in a thick quilt, feigning a persistent high fever, and sent a servant to fetch a doctor, attempting to use this as an excuse to decline the invitation.
But as soon as the servant reached the door, he saw two Sisters of Battle dressed in black Power Armour standing quietly outside.
They wore kind smiles, their voices gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"Are you unwell, sir? Perfect! The church has the best doctor; we'll escort you there for treatment."
The Sisters of Battle's Bolt Pistol at her waist was polished to a gleaming shine, radiating a cold light.
The nobleman's face was deathly pale, as if he had truly suffered a serious illness.
Some even tried to hide in other nobles' manors, hoping to band together for warmth and slip through their fingers.
But as soon as he stepped out of his own door, he saw countless patrolmen in the Governor's Mansion uniforms patrolling the streets of the Uptown.
They were heavily armored, armed with stun guns, and checked every pedestrian and every vehicle.
The entire Uptown was transformed overnight into a massive, airtight prison.
What made the nobles even more desperate was that the first group of nobles invited were personally "escorted" by priests from the Ecclesiarchy.
The priests, dressed in pristine white robes and holding Emperor scriptures, wore gentle, compassionate smiles and spoke in kind tones.
"Your Excellency, the Governor and the Bishop are waiting in the mansion. Please come with me, and do not fail the Emperor's decree."
That smile, in the eyes of the nobles, was more terrifying than the call of death.
No one dared to refuse their invitation.