Starting from the Planetary Governor - Chapter 711

Chapter 709: The Assassin Court Greets You

. Gu Hang was actually a little disappointed with the holy relic technology.

It can certainly be regarded as an apocalypse-class technology, and its efficacy is very clear.

However, it is different from the apocalypse-class technology that Gu Hang wants.

Its use is too narrow.

The enhancement of cutting-edge combat power plays a decisive role in certain battles. But after all, it is not the kind of thing that Gu Hang wants that can subvert the alliance. He needs something more powerful.

The shipment rate of the apocalypse-class has dropped by another 10 points. There are still six draws left. Can I get it?

Another 4 draws, and another apocalypse-class technology came out.

When he saw its name, even Gu Hang, who has long been very calm, couldn’t help showing an ecstatic expression!

[Apocalypse-class technology: Queen of Glory battleship]

Queen of Glory, no further explanation is needed.

Gu Hang had only witnessed its power once: during the battle to destroy the Zerg support fleet, a Phoenix Crest, having endured a lengthy Warp voyage and in far less peak condition than it had been, leapt from the Warp and appeared directly at the heart of a vast Zerg fleet.

Its instantaneous display of destructive power proved decisive in the outcome of the battle. It instantly destroyed several key enemy vessels while surviving prolonged concentrated fire.

With one such vessel, it was the anchor of the navy!

Throughout the Empire, there was a fixed number of Glorious Queens. Only the founding Chapters possessed the Glorious Queens, bequeathed by the Emperor to their respective Legions during the Imperium’s founding. Later, when Legions transitioned to other Chapters, the founding Chapters naturally took possession of the Glorious Queens.

Now, not even the Imperial Navy possessed a Glorious Queen!

Even after acquiring this technology, Gu Hang discovered that a production line for the finished black box plus some low-tech components pulled from the mother machine’s black box, combined with the Alliance’s existing production capacity… In short, using all available means and resources, and with the entire Alliance fully committed, it would take approximately fifteen to twenty years to build a Queen of Glory.

It’s a long time, but so what?

If the Empire could produce a Queen of Glory in twenty years, the Supreme Commander of the Navy and the Imperial Chancellor would probably die of laughter!

Of course, even if this powerful weapon were built, it couldn’t be deployed lightly.

Everything else would be easy, but if the Alliance were to acquire this top-tier vessel, a vessel from the founding period of the Empire, said to have been designed by the Emperor himself, which not even the Empire or the Mechanicum’s Martian headquarters could build, were to be built today, it would be inexplicable.

Therefore, the Queen of Glory project was to be kept strictly confidential, both during and after its construction.

Furthermore, under normal circumstances, given the Alliance’s naval capabilities, the Queen of Glory wouldn’t be needed.

Once the Queen of Glory was needed, it would be a matter of life and death, and secrecy would be irrelevant.

But what Gu Hang most desired was another possibility: that secrecy no longer be necessary.

When Gu Hang had one Queen of Glory, he would keep it secret;

with three, he could pluck up the courage;

with ten, he could sail openly to Holy Terra.

That might take two hundred years.

But no matter, Gu Hang could afford to wait.

Even ordinary mortal dignitaries could live to 200 to 500 years old through life-extending surgery, let alone Gu Hang.

He even suspected he had achieved immortality. He

might be killed, but he wouldn’t die of old age.

He had the patience to wait for the flower that took so long to bloom.

…

There were still two remaining draws in the 10 million-level range that hadn’t been delivered. It wasn’t too regrettable. After all

, after the Queen of Glory was drawn, the probability of an Apocalypse-level vessel in the 10 million-level range had dropped to 10%.

To get another one, you either need to be incredibly lucky and land a hit, or you can just diligently save up another ten-shot combo, which would yield 100 million bounties, a more stable sum.

However, amassing 100 million bounties was no easy feat.

Gu Hang had earned this much thanks to the Alliance Navy, Army, and Space Marines, who had sacrificed enormous sums and fought for years in a row.

And now, peace seemed imminent—at least a general peace. Without a star-field-scale war to fight, generating this much bounty would be difficult.

Of course, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

If he could truly afford a long period of time to slowly develop, his monthly income would steadily increase.

Every ten or twenty years, a Queen of Glory, along with numerous battleships, aircraft carriers, and battlecruisers, would join the Alliance Navy.

In short, it would grow ever stronger.

Gu Hang, having drawn the Queen of Glory battleship, was in high spirits, and his outlook on the future also grew optimistic.

Gu Hang was busy for a while, handing off the production tasks for the Holy Relic and the Queen of Glory warship, including the black box, to his headquarters.

He had to get things done.

He planned to produce two Holy Relic weapons first: one for himself, shaped like a scepter; the other for Martins.

As for the construction of the Queen of Glory, that wouldn’t be done overnight. He

would raise the level of confidentiality and proceed slowly.

Of course, the estimated cost of this thing was around one trillion.

But it couldn’t be spent all at once. The black box could save a considerable amount, and other unavoidable costs would be gradually paid for over the fifteen-year construction period.

This was a massive undertaking, and there would be a lot of noise. But there wasn’t much to worry about.

Maintaining confidentiality was one thing; even if some information leaked out, no one would suspect the Alliance was building the Queen of Glory.

To the outside world, that seemed impossible.

After finishing all this, Gu Hang finally had time to return to the Governor’s suite on the starship.

He’d been working so hard for quite a while, and now that he was in a good mood, he deserved a break.

But as soon as he entered the room, his brow furrowed.

Someone, a stranger, had been here.

They had walked in with such arrogance that they had not erased any traces of their presence, and they had even left something behind.

It was a letter placed on his bedside.

In an instant, Gu Hang spread his psychic perception.

According to his perception, there were no enemies or dangers nearby.

There was nothing on the letter either, just an ordinary letter with no traps.

At least Gu Hang didn’t notice it.

The contents inside were all visible under the psychic perspective. He didn’t need to open it to see the contents:

“Grand Master Jefferson Clement, greetings to Commander-in-Chief Gu.”

Gu Hang certainly remembered this name.

Clement currently ranks among the thirteen High Lords of the Empire.

The reason he was able to hold such a high position was naturally because he had a unique base that no one could ignore: the Assassin’s Court.

He was the Grand Master of the Assassin’s Court.

Silently, an assassin from the Assassin’s Court entered the Emperor-class battleship ‘Golden Gate,’ which had long served as Gu Hang’s office and palace. Then, bypassing countless defenses, he left a letter by his bedside, then vanished without alerting anyone. His

movements were so elusive that even Gu Hang, using his psychic powers, struggled to track them.

What could this signify?

A warning. What

if it wasn’t a harmless letter, but a carefully planned ambush and assassination?

Given the abilities he displayed, even Gu Hang, with his powerful psychic abilities, would be in danger if caught off guard.

Life or death aside, perhaps injury?

If they could quietly place a letter, what about poisoning?

Did the Assassin’s Court truly lack a poison specifically designed to target powerful psychics, even capable of harming great demons?

Even if Gu Hang couldn’t be harmed, what about the others in the alliance? Those Space Marine Chapters, the high-ranking marshals of the Alliance Armies, the high-ranking Prime Ministers of the government… could they possibly hide?

This is the terrifying thing about the Assassin’s Court.

They can’t fight wars, nor will they go to war. But they can almost kill anyone they want.

Repeated physical destruction, even if it doesn’t destroy a regime, is enough to bring about immense disruption.

Throughout the Empire’s history, there have been instances where Grand Masters of the Assassin’s Court briefly seized control of the Empire through assassination and espionage.

Of course, they were eventually overthrown, and the power of the Assassin’s Court was also caged.

But regardless, the power they wielded naturally earned the Grand Master respect and a seat among the High Lords.

Back when Gu Hang made his first and only trip to Holy Terra, the then-Prime Minister of Military Affairs, Norberto, had been expelled from the Supreme Council. After his trial, Clement was appointed to replace Norberto.

That time, within the Imperial Palace, Gu Hang even suffered an assassination attempt by the Court of Assassins. It was later revealed that Clement had nothing to do with the assassins, but rather that they had been secretly commissioned by certain individuals.

Later, the Grand Master of the Court of Assassins, who had joined the Supreme Council, granted Gu Hang the status of “sponsor,” allowing him to assassinate his target for a fee or other consideration, as long as it did not violate Imperial law. It was a

legal form of contracted murder.

Of course, this was subject to the authority of the target, which the Court of Assassins would review.

Although Gu Hang had never used the sponsorship status since receiving it,

he didn’t need it .

If he really needed to do the dirty work, the Alliance had its own special services.

But even if he didn’t need it, Gu Hang would still send some money to the Court of Assassins from time to time, whether through Alliance diplomats stationed in Holy Terra. It wasn’t much, just tens or hundreds of thousands, fulfilling his “sponsorship” duties.

It wasn’t about getting work done, it was simply about building relationships.

Gu Hang even occasionally exchanged private correspondence with Clement, discussing current affairs.

Occasionally, they would reply, signaling a willingness to be approachable.

In fact, from the information Gallardo relayed, Clement’s presence within the High Lords’ Council was relatively low-key, rarely speaking, and simply voting silently. On matters concerning Gu Hang, the Alliance, and the southern front of the previous war, Clement’s attitude was generally neutral and slightly friendly.

This was good, as it made Gu Hang feel his money wasn’t wasted; the fact that he was assassinated by the Assassin’s Court and was not pursued was a small reward.

So, what was going on now?

A greeting?

He and Clement had a private communication channel, so if he really wanted to ask, why not in a normal way?

Why in such a sensitive way?

Was this a warning?

Was it a malicious one, or a well-intentioned one?

Gu Hang pondered for a long time in silence.

A vague idea formed.

However, he quickly decided against blind speculation.

Wouldn’t it be better to ask?

He had two good targets for inquiry:

Gallardo

and Clement himself.

(End of this chapter)