The warm, moist air from the oceans of Macragge cooled as it passed through the mountains, and by the time it reached Macragge City beneath Hera’s Peak, it had become refreshingly cool.
Klein breathed gently, savoring the sensation of his lungs filling with crisp, clean air.
He thoroughly enjoyed this feeling.
On the Golden Throne, he had long lost the ability to breathe.
His lungs had been seared into shriveled, desiccated fragments under the intense heat, and the only thing he could inhale was scorching thermal energy, as if taking a deep breath of molten lava.
And in the Hive City, the putrid air, laced with the stench of ozone, garbage, and disinfectant, made one wish they could just suffocate themselves rather than endure it, let alone breathe deeply like this.
The air of Caliban, in terms of pure quality, was admittedly quite good, but the air there seemed to carry some kind of malice beyond the material plane, sending a chill through the body with every breath.
Only the air of Macragge made Klein feel refreshed and at ease.
Gazing at the snow-capped peak of Hera’s Crown, which pierced straight into the clouds, and the vapor trails left by starships ascending at the distant edge of the firmament, Klein could not help but open his mouth.
“Macragge truly lives up to its name as the greatest stronghold of Ultramar!” he exclaimed.
“Macragge isn’t a stronghold!” Dita could not help but retort from the side.
Klein smiled.
He noticed that Dita had not raised any objection to the word “Ultramar.”
That was only natural, because the concept of Ultramar was not something created later by Guilliman.
As far back as the golden age before humanity had yet to face Old Night, the concept of Ultramar already existed.
Many worlds once belonging to the Ultramar sub-sector had jointly established a trade network, where worlds were interdependent, thriving and prospering together.
Even now, the concept of Ultramar still persisted, though it had diminished to nothing more than a loose alliance between Macragge and a few nearby worlds.
After all, on Macragge, the Warp drive had been completely lost, with only a portion of starships’ sub-light engines still operational.
“Announcement: Citizens of Macragge, please heed the latest resolution of the Senate.”
“By order of Archon Konor Guilliman and upon vote of the Senate, a new agricultural reform bill is hereby passed.”
“Effective from March 1st of the Macragge Calendar, all freeholders holding less than fifteen acres of land shall be exempt from all taxes on agricultural produce entering Macragge City.”
Before Klein and Dita could even reach the grammar school, a sphere encased in an old, metallic shell flew over both their heads, continuously broadcasting the Senate’s latest announcement as it passed.
It appeared to be some kind of drone.
“A complete abolition of the city entrance tax for freeholders.
I wonder if the great landowners will start to panic.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of Dita’s lips.
She was delighted at the prospect of food prices falling further.
Macragge was a mountainous planet, and the already scarce arable land was mostly controlled by a tiny minority of the great landed nobility, while the far more numerous freeholders were forced to cling to narrow, fragmented plots of land.
As a result, agricultural prices within Macragge City had always remained artificially high under the manipulation of the landed nobility.
Successive Archons of Macragge had never dared to act against them easily, because those landed nobles held complete control over the fragile agricultural supply. Read the latest chapters at novelping . com.
But after Archon Konor took office, he strengthened trade between Macragge and other planets, making interstellar trade the main source of Macragge’s agricultural products.
No longer held hostage by the great landed nobility, he was free to carry out land reform.
Reducing the agricultural tax burden on the freeholders was part of this.
It was clear that Konor wanted to win over the vast numbers of freeholders to join him in opposing the nobility.
“But those who perform the most labor on the land, those who produce the most agricultural products, are not the freeholders.
They are the slaves.” A portion of memories belonging to the scholar stirred awake, and Klein spoke these words almost as if by instinct.
“We live in an age when trade can be conducted among the stars, yet on our lands we still use slaves for labor…
isn’t that far too backward,” Dita remarked with sarcasm.
Klein shook his head.
This was nothing.
If Dita knew that ten thousand years later, human civilization would rule a million worlds, that Warp drives could cross the entire galaxy in a matter of dozens of months, that military force could annihilate planets and hold back the swarms from beyond the galaxy and the daemons of the Warp, yet many humans would live worse than the slaves of Macragge, he wondered what expression she would have.
“I’ll head to the teacher’s office first.” Once under the colonnade of the grammar school, Klein spoke to Dita.
He really did intend to teach a class.
It would help him restore more of the scholar’s memories and acquire more of the scholar’s skills.
He needed the scholar’s knowledge to help him handle the upcoming recruitment by the household of Marcus Guilliman.
“No, you’re not teaching today.
I already had it cancelled when I asked for leave for you yesterday.”
Dita reached out and grabbed Klein by the wrist, dragging him in another direction.
“You have a different assignment today!”
Klein did not resist.
His psychic intuition told him that wherever Dita was taking him would yield some gains.
Dita dragged Klein to the door of an office, reached out, and knocked.
“Come in,” a somewhat aged voice answered from within the room.
Dita pulled Klein as she pushed the door open.
“Professor, I’ve brought him!
Please give him a good education!”
Klein directed his gaze straight ahead.
The first thing he noticed was the large wooden desk.
It was at least two meters long and piled high with all sorts of bizarre and curious objects.
There were eye-shaped pendants made of brass, peculiar stone statues carved from marble, parchment scrolls covered in complex script, gears made of unknown metal…
These objects all seemed to be unearthed cultural relics, and some still had dirt clinging to them.
And sitting behind this desk was an elderly man who looked around fifty or sixty years old, his head nearly shaved, sporting a short, grayish-white beard.
The old man was holding a clay tablet carved with cuneiform script, absorbed in reading it…
Klein remembered.
This old man was his teacher, the head teacher of the grammar school and a renowned historical scholar of Macragge: Lucretius.
Lucretius withdrew his gaze from the clay tablet and nodded to Klein with a smile.
“A new archaeological site has been discovered in the mountains near Odin City.
This clay tablet comes from there.”
“I haven’t finished translating its contents yet, but a preliminary look suggests it concerns the rule of the ‘Witch King’ during the Old Night.”
“It may help us uncover the secret of the Witch King’s decline and show us how the Lord of War supplanted him.”
As he spoke, Lucretius gestured for Klein to sit across from him.
“My child, Dita tells me your condition has improved considerably these past two days and that you haven’t been to the casino.”
“This gladdens me.
You’ve always been a good student of mine.
Honesty and steadfastness are your virtues.
I’ve always hoped you might come and assist me in some historical research.”
“But another matter Dita mentioned troubles me.
You’ve incurred a rather terrible debt, is that correct?”
Klein gave a slight nod, all the while observing his teacher without leaving a trace.
“I see…
My child, tell me, relying on your intuition.”
“Do you believe there might be something unnatural in your fall?
Do you feel there was some…
ineffable force that drove you to your gambling addiction and even to suicide?”
(Translated by yourtl.app)