“Tell me your name, brat.”
“Reporting, Instructor, my name is Gan.”
On the training ground, a Thunder Warrior stood before a squad of Astartes, roaring.
“Tell me, Gan, why did you join the army?”
“To obey the Emperor’s orders.”
“Damn it, that’s the most perfect answer I’ve ever heard.
Private Gan, you’re a fucking genius.
Your IQ definitely exceeds fucking two hundred and sixty.”
Similar scenes were playing out across the Empire recently.
The Thunder Warriors tirelessly trained the Astartes, while the Astartes endured the training with great difficulty.
Morningstar took all of this in.
This was actually Morningstar’s scheme.
A scheme against whom?
A scheme against the Emperor.
Morningstar was worried that the Emperor would purge the Thunder Warriors as in the original plot, so she planned to directly eliminate the rift between the Astartes and the Thunder Warriors.
On one hand, after spending time with the Astartes, the Thunder Warriors would no longer worry about being abandoned in the future, thereby easing the conflict between the Emperor and the Thunder Warriors to some extent.
On the other hand, even if the Emperor truly wanted to purge the Thunder Warriors, he would have to consider the feelings of the Astartes who got along well with them.
Morningstar knew the Emperor couldn’t fail to see through her little scheme.
Yet the Emperor said nothing.
He showed no reaction to Morningstar’s actions, which could even be considered overstepping.
Morningstar knew that the Emperor was telling her that if she could eliminate the genetic defects of the Thunder Warriors within the allotted time, he would act as if nothing had happened.
If she couldn’t, the Emperor would still take action.
Tough, it’s really tough.
During this time, Morningstar would run to the Imperial Palace whenever she had a moment, not to see the Emperor or Malcador, but for another important person.
“Mom, I’ve come to see you.”
Lady Astartes, the most outstanding geneticist under the Emperor, was directly involved in the Thunder Warrior Project and the Primarch Project.
To honor her achievements, the legions made from the gene-seed of the twenty Primarchs were also named Astartes by the Emperor.
In terms of ethical relationships, Lady Astartes could be considered the foster mother of the Primarchs, so calling her “Mom” was not a loss.
On the day Morningstar expressed her desire to treat the Thunder Warriors to the Emperor, the Emperor sent her directly to Lady Astartes.
Lady Astartes felt a motherly affection for her creations and was also desperate to save the Thunder Warriors.
To this end, she had developed many plans.
Learning alongside her was undoubtedly the right move for Morningstar.
“Good Child, Mom brought you some candy.
Take some back with you.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
From a mother’s perspective, Lady Astartes was extremely qualified.
In the classroom, she was a strict and serious teacher; outside the classroom, she was a gentle and loving mother.
She truly loved the Child Morningstar from the bottom of her heart.
She also knew she was just a mortal and had no right to be the mother of a Primarch; she would be satisfied just to see the children grow up safely.
Yet, the real mother of the Primarchs had sent them all away, and she couldn’t even fulfill that simple wish.
Then a miracle occurred.
A Child who shouldn’t have appeared miraculously possessed a soul.
Back when she participated in the creation of Number Zero, she never would have expected today.
But now, who else could this well-behaved girl be—one who could move, jump, and obediently call her “Mom”?
So when Morningstar said she wanted to learn genetic knowledge, Lady Astartes truly poured her heart into it, wishing she could package all the knowledge in her brain and give it away.
“Mom, Option Nine failed.
The subject’s rejection reaction was too severe.”
Lady Astartes looked up at Morningstar, her face full of pride.
As expected of a Primarch, in just a few days, Morningstar had transformed from a student into an academic partner who could communicate with her without any obstacles.
“Don’t worry.
The experimental data shows our general direction is correct.
Let’s do a few more adjustments.”
“Knock, knock, knock—”
There was a knock on the laboratory door.
Morningstar opened it to find Malcador standing outside.
“Your Highness, the Emperor has business with you.”
“Dad’s looking for me?
Alright.” Morningstar was about to say goodbye to Lady Astartes when she saw that the other woman had stood up behind her at some point.
“Let’s go,” Lady Astartes said with a smile.
Morningstar looked at Malcador, who smiled without saying a word.
Fine then, let’s go together.
In the Administrative Hall, where the Emperor and Malcador often handled government affairs, Morningstar pushed the door open carelessly: “What’s up, Dad?”
The Emperor looked up and glanced over: “In a while, come with me to Albia to negotiate peace with their monarch.”
“Huh?
Don’t they want to talk to you?
Why call me?”
“Are you going or not?”
Morningstar thought for a moment: “You want me to enter a political marriage?”
It’s over, Malcador thought.
The look in Lady Astartes’ eyes behind him was as if she wanted to commit regicide.
The Emperor’s head throbbed with anger: “I’m telling you to properly train your diplomatic skills.
What kind of nonsense are you imagining all day?”
“You should have said so earlier.
Do I need to prepare anything?”
“No need.
Just wear casual clothes and we’ll go directly.”
…The meeting with the monarch of Albia went extremely smoothly.
Their monarch admired the Emperor’s courage in coming here dressed in casual clothes (Morningstar: Believe it or not, he could flip this whole country upside down even in casual clothes).
The conversation with the Emperor further convinced him that the Emperor was by no means like the previous warlords on Terra, but a great man who truly cared for all of humanity and could save them from the Age of Strife.
Thus, he soon declared his loyalty.
“How was it?
Did you learn anything?” On the way back, the Emperor asked Morningstar.
“Dad, do you dare try again after removing that ten-meter-thick Psychic Filter of yours?”
“…”
Throughout the diplomatic process, Morningstar didn’t see any diplomatic techniques.
The Emperor relied entirely on his “A Thousand Faces” ability to exert his charm to the fullest.
To put it bluntly, the Emperor had a certain allure—a charm specifically effective against humans—and the other party naturally pledged loyalty.
How was Morningstar supposed to learn that?
“…Fine, get lost.”
“OK, bye Dad.”
…Back in the camp at the Empire’s eastern border, Morningstar handled military affairs as usual.
“Still no intelligence on the Pan-Pacific Empire?”
“No, Your Highness.
Their intelligence security is too tight.
The scouts we sent out haven’t heard a thing.”
“Sigh—this is tough.”
Morningstar frowned.
Progress was stuck here.
If the unification progress was delayed any further, it wouldn’t keep up, but if they attacked recklessly, the Empire might not be able to afford the losses.
“Your Highness, there’s a situation.” A Thunder Warrior hurried in.
“Your Highness, Nathanduum requests to meet with you.”
“Who?” Nathanduum, the leader of the Pan-Pacific Empire.
We hadn’t even looked for him yet, and he came looking for us first?
Strange.
Why would a warlord leader look for her instead of the Emperor?
Morningstar pondered for a moment, her fingers tapping on the table: “Reply to him.
Tell him I’ll go.”
“You can’t go, Your Highness!
This is clearly a trap, a Hongmen Banquet!
You can’t go.”
“Iligos,” Morningstar looked to her side.
“Do we have any other means of gathering information?”
“…No, Your Highness.”
“There you go.
Since Mr.
Nathanduum has politely invited us, we can’t miss such a good opportunity.”
“Then…
attend the banquet?”
“Attend the banquet!”