Ross didn’t even get the chance to speak a single word to the newly arrived warriors.
The moment the summoning finished, his Psionic Source was drained completely dry, unable to squeeze out another drop.
An all-encompassing exhaustion spread from deep within his body to every limb in an instant.
Leaning against the warehouse wall, his vision went black, and he collapsed.
In his fading consciousness, he only heard a flurry of hurried footsteps rushing toward him.
Someone shouted “My Lord!”, and then everything fell silent.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already the next afternoon.
The orange-red evening sun leaked through the gap in the curtains, casting a long streak of light across the ceiling.
Ross stared at the streak of light for several seconds, his mind completely blank, briefly forgetting even who he was.
Then memories flooded back, replaying in his mind.
The summoning.
Over seventy people.
Astra Militarum, Battle Sisters, scientists.
And then he had passed out.
He turned his head to see a glass of water on the nightstand, fine beads of condensation clinging to the glass, still cool.
Next to the bed sat a chair occupied by Cecilia Vera.
She had changed into clean clothes without her power armor, but her chainsword at her waist and bolt pistol on her leg were both present.
She leaned back against the chair with arms crossed and eyes closed, whether dozing or meditating was hard to tell.
The moment Ross moved, Cecilia’s eyes snapped open.
“My Lord.”
She stood up from the chair and struck her chest with her right fist.
“You’re awake.”
Her voice was soft yet full of vigor, showing no signs of exhaustion from staying up all night.
Ross noticed she didn’t even have dark circles under her eyes, marveling silently at the constitution of a Battle Sister.
“How are you feeling now?” Cecilia asked.
“Yesterday I sensed that your exhaustion was caused by overusing psionic energy.
You’ve been fast asleep since last night.
Griffin has come by to check on you three times.”
Ross pushed himself up, leaning against the headboard, and picked up the glass of water to take a sip.
“Much better.”
He cracked his neck, his cervical vertebrae popping twice.
“My psionic energy is gradually recovering.
It’s nothing serious, don’t worry.”
He was telling the truth.
The Psionic Source was indeed recovering.
Though slow, he could feel a warm current steadily gathering.
Cecilia’s expression visibly relaxed, though she said nothing further, merely nodding.
Ross set down the water glass and asked the question he cared about most.
“Have yesterday’s comrades been settled?”
“They have been taken care of,” Cecilia answered.
“The dormitories Griffin cleared out last time are spacious enough for them.
The fifty Astra Militarum veterans were split into twenty-five rooms, while the sixteen Battle Sisters took another eight rooms on the second floor of the dorm building.
It’s a bit cramped, but far better than their living conditions back on Cadia.”
Ross nodded, waiting for her to continue.
“As for those scientists…” Cecilia paused, seemingly searching for the right words.
“Griffin arranged rooms for them identical to your bedroom.
One room per person with an en-suite bathroom, complete with newly bought bedding and linens.
He said scientists need a quiet environment to think and shouldn’t be crammed together with soldiers.”
The corner of Ross’s mouth twitched.
That old veteran Griffin was a master on the battlefield and equally competent at taking care of logistics.
And Griffin wasn’t wrong.
Scientists indeed deserved better accommodation than soldiers.
The research conducted by scientists of the Human Federation wasn’t something that could be produced just anywhere.
“Good.
As long as they’re settled.”
He took another sip of water, remembering something else.
“Nothing happened while I was unconscious, right?”
Cecilia shook her head.
“The Hand hasn’t made any moves or sent more people.
Presumably, after losing contact with those four ninjas last night, they are unsure of our true strength and don’t dare make any rash moves for now.”
“And then?”
“And then…” Cecilia’s expression turned a bit subtle.
“Mr.
Murdock brought over the intelligence on The Hand.
He’s currently waiting in the reception room, saying he’ll leave once you wake up.”
Ross raised an eyebrow.
Murdock?
Waiting all this time?
He glanced out the window at the sky—it looked to be around five or six in the evening.
Murdock usually worked at his law firm during the day and went out as a vigilante at night.
To make him put down his work and sit waiting in the base’s reception room for several hours straight definitely meant it was more than just delivering intel.
“Does he have something on his mind?” Ross asked, puzzled.
“He didn’t say,” Cecilia’s reply was like a formal report.
“He’s just been sitting there waiting, having drunk three or four cups of coffee.
When Griffin asked him if anything was wrong, he refused to say, only insisting on waiting until you woke up.
He took two phone calls in between and then went back to waiting.”
Ross went quiet for two seconds.
Matt Murdock, Daredevil of Hell’s Kitchen.
A tsundere lawyer who constantly claimed “I don’t cooperate with gangs” while taking his money to work for him.
That guy never did anything without a purpose.
For him to sit in the reception room drinking three or four cups of coffee while waiting for hours…
it was either a sky-falling crisis, or…
“Alright then.”
Ross pulled back the blanket, stepping barefoot onto the floor, looking around in vain for slippers.
“Tell him to wait another ten minutes.
I’ll wash my face and head down.”
Cecilia struck her chest with her right fist and turned to leave.
She paused at the door and turned back.
“By the way, My Lord, Griffin asked me to report on his behalf.
Among the newly arrived Astra Militarum, one was his former superior officer who previously commanded a company on Cadia.
He mentioned that when you’re available, he’d like to present a reorganization plan.”
Ross froze for a moment, then smiled.
“Alright, one thing at a time.
Let’s see Murdock first.”
Cecilia nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Ross stood by the bed, looking down at his bare feet.
Then he glanced at the half-empty glass of water on the nightstand and suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
After sleeping for nearly twenty hours, the very first thing he did upon waking was inquire about his subordinates’ arrangements.
The second thing was meeting a lawyer who had waited for him all afternoon.
Still, this felt a bit better than the Corpse-Emperor; at least he wasn’t nearly as miserable.
Ross washed up quickly, changed into clean clothes, and walked down the corridor to the reception room.
Pushing the door open, a wave of warmth greeted him.
Matt Murdock sat on the sofa near the window.
Legs crossed, the buttons of his dark grey suit jacket unfastened, though his tie remained impeccably tied.
A pair of Bluetooth earbuds was plugged into his ears, his head tilted slightly as if listening intently to something.
He held a cup of coffee in his right hand, bringing it to his lips for a sip with a rather appreciative expression.
As Ross stepped inside, Murdock tilted his head slightly in his direction.
With his enhanced hearing, he had naturally detected someone’s arrival long ago.
“Sorry about that, Matt.
I suddenly felt under the weather and slept in a bit.”
Ross sat down on the sofa across from him, casually pushing aside an untouched box of tissues on the coffee table.
Murdock took out his earbuds and slowly stowed them in his pocket.
He took another sip of coffee before speaking at a measured pace.
“It’s fine.
I understand.
Besides, I didn’t have much to do today anyway, so I just had a few extra cups of your coffee while waiting.”
Ross paused for a moment, then chuckled.
Matt Murdock.
The guy who could argue opposing counsel into a stupor in court by day and beat thugs into broken bones in a red suit by night—this fanatic was actually making a joke with him.
“Had a few extra cups.”
Coming from anyone else, that would be polite small talk, but coming from him, it was genuine dry humor.
In all the time Ross had known him, this was probably the first time he had heard him speak in such a tone.
It seemed the lawyer was finally no longer treating him purely as an employer.
Ross leaned back into the sofa, looking with a smile at the blind lawyer in sunglasses sitting across from him.
“Alright then.
Spill it—what big news made you so eager to see me?
I doubt you came all this way just for a few cups of my instant coffee.”
Murdock set his coffee cup down, his expression reverting to its usual reserved composure.