Starting from the Planetary Governor - Chapter 812

Chapter 806: Cricket in the Golden Cage

Magray Domain, Miting Star Domain, Miting Star.

The golden dome reflected the light of the artificial sun, bathing the entire conference hall in a honey-like hue. Cain Archavon, the Domain President of the Magray Domain, reclined on a throne inlaid with teardrop-shaped rubies, the pearl curtains rustling with his nervous trembling.

Below him, numerous ministers knelt on black jade tiles inlaid with star maps, their necks shackled with electronic shackles engraved with family crests—this was a new policy implemented three months ago. Archavon declared it was necessary to ensure “the focus of the court.” He

had no choice but to do so.

Thirty years had passed since the Great Disaster. Fifteen years earlier, Archavon hadn’t been like this. Back then, he had been quite ambitious.

The Magray Domain was a special place.

Due to certain historical issues, the Domain President of this domain was long-held by a dynasty family that had been in power for generations.

Ten thousand years ago, during the Emperor’s Great Crusade, the Archavon family ruled the human pocket empire known as “Maigre,” centered on the planet Midin. Upon the Emperor’s arrival, they swiftly surrendered their entire empire.

Furthermore, their nation was unique. During that even longer Dark Age, the Maigre realm remained remarkably untouched.

Neither revolting xenos technology nor the disturbing power of the Warp could be found within their realm. It was a truly pure human nation, with a decent standard of living for its people and an enlightened monarchy.

Their complete submission not only brought hundreds of intact, pristine worlds to the Imperium, but they also actively responded to the Imperium’s call, providing resources, raising legions, and sending troops into battle. During the Great Crusade, which lasted for over a century, they played a significant role in the Imperium’s recovery of the entire galaxy.

Thus, this galaxy was named “Maigre,” and the title was permanently bestowed upon the Archavon family. The galaxy presidency, ruled by the unbroken line of the Archavon Dynasty, became known as the “Royal House of Maigre.”

The Archavon family once had a glorious history. Not only did they render great service to the Empire during the Great Crusade, but they also produced numerous virtuous kings after it. Several Magre kings even ascended to Holy Terra to serve as High Lords as Domain Presidents.

However, the Empire is a corrupting influence.

Ten thousand years after its incorporation into the Empire, only documents, records, and historical records offer a glimpse into what the former Magre kingdom was like. The present-day Magre domain is little different from any other Imperial domain. The Magre royal family, after a long, worry-free life of power, has become “corrupted.”

They can’t truly produce virtuous kings from generation to generation, right?

Even after such a long period of time, the Archavon royal family’s supposed “eternal lineage” couldn’t truly reach that level of eternity. In the last thousand years, the Archavon family has repeatedly lost their position as Domain President of Magre, and for eight of those years, they haven’t held power.

Even when they no longer directly held the position of Cosmic President, they remained one of the most important political families in the Magray Cosmic Domain.

Cain Archavon’s great-grandfather rose to power during the previous Ironclad War, taking advantage of the chaos ravaged by the Ironclad invasion of the Magray Cosmic Domain. Following the war’s end, the Archavon family was once again caught in a political siege, facing a precarious situation.

Cain Archavon was a young king. At the age of fifty-four, he inherited the precarious throne of Magray from his great-grandfather.

He was fortunate to stand out among the countless descendants of the Archavon royal family; his ability to stabilize the already precarious power of the Archavon family was a testament to his ability.

However, ten years into his reign, the Cataclysm struck. In this sense, he was unfortunate.

Even more unfortunate—or perhaps fortunate—was that in the first year of the Cataclysm, at the height of chaos, he received a “Letter to the Fellow Citizens in the Disaster” from the High Lord and Alliance leader, Gu Hang.

This seemed like an opportunity.

Just as his ancestor ten thousand years ago had made the perfect choice in the face of the impending Emperor, guaranteeing their family’s prosperity and wealth for at least a thousand years, so

too now, the same choice faced him.

And without hesitation, he

chose to lash out at Gu Hang.

He was the most vocal critic of Gu Hang in the entire Magre Universe. He

called him a thief, a traitor to the Empire, a betrayer of trust, an accomplice of Chaos…

all of it hurled at Gu Hang.

He deeply rejected the Alliance. Even before the Cataclysm, he had been a staunch opponent of the Alliance, believing it to be a separatist warlord operating on the border, thus receiving numerous policy support from the Imperial center.

He envied Gu Hang. Who are you to ride on my coattails?

Do you think you’re worthy of being a High Lord?

Or a savior?

In short, he simply didn’t approve.

From a practical point of view, he accepted the Control Council, even though he would retain a certain level of power within this new system. But how could that compare to the power of the throne?

As for comparing this opportunity to his ancestors ten thousand years ago… Don’t be ridiculous. Can Gu Hang really be compared to the Emperor, able to establish a new empire and extend his family’s power for another ten thousand years?

Dream on!

And he’s not the only Magrean noble with similar ideas.

Everyone knows what the Alliance system is. No matter how much they guarantee existing vested interests, it can only be said to mitigate losses. Ultimately, they want to overturn the status quo, redistribute wealth, and implement reforms. No matter what, they will take power and wealth from their hands. In the future, they will not reap much of the dividends of social development. The Alliance’s rank system does provide a fairly good standard of living for those at the top, but it’s different from the current situation where everything is mine and private.

These opponents still have considerable power, and after Cain Archavon issued a declaration against Gu Hang, they easily rallied around him.

The entire group was still very powerful in the early stages of the catastrophe. They were united and determined. Within the first fifteen years of the catastrophe, they had established a network of connections spanning over a hundred worlds.

Both communication and navigation were established.

While it wasn’t as smooth as the Alliance, it was still a remarkable feat in the current climate.

However, they had paid a heavy price in the process. The loss of population was secondary; the decline in wealth was even more heartbreaking.

At this point, many within the interest groups felt that things were good enough. They had achieved great success, and it was time to earn back the losses from the catastrophe and the costs of the past fifteen years of rebuilding.

Even Archavon himself harbored similar sentiments.

Especially during the process of expansion, as the regime grew in size, the cost of expansion soared, and the difficulty became daunting. As

expansion gradually subsided, hedonism and extravagance began to reignite.

This process unfolded so swiftly that it caught people off guard.

These trends were even more intense than before the Cataclysm.

Daylong drinking parties, magnificent ceremonies, exquisite architecture and artwork… If that were all, it might be considered normal.

But many abnormalities, such as unbridled orgy, substance abuse, pedophilia, homosexuality, group s*x, and the joy of killing… these were unacceptable. Even more disgusting and inhumane practices were secretly gaining popularity.

It was rumored that Cain Archavon personally participated in some of these activities, eventually becoming a major player.

But all of this was threatened three years ago.

After more than two decades of Dark Side crusades, the Alliance finally arrived.

The Alliance’s arrival shattered the self-deception of the Magresky Domain government. Previously, they had generally believed the Alliance’s claims of saving all Imperial worlds were mere boasting. Thousands of worlds away, it was unclear how long the Alliance would take to reach them—especially after they had personally experienced the difficulty and pain of expanding beyond their borders.

Even if the Alliance did arrive, it would likely be centuries later.

Yet, within a mere twenty years, the Alliance arrived. War

officially broke out.

But given the current state of the Domain government, could they still fight?

Of course.

In recent years, the number of psykers detected on the over one hundred worlds governed by the Mitin Star authorities has increased significantly, as has the number of mutants infected by the Warp. While these latter cases should have been dealt with severely, certain powerful individuals, after privately “playing around” with them, declared them trustworthy and recruited them en masse into the military.

These mutants proved quite capable. Combined with the psionic wizards, who outnumbered them dozens of times more, they were able to hold their own against the Alliance in the early stages of the war.

But that was only the beginning.

Then, as the Alliance intensified its efforts and changed its tactics, their doom loomed ever closer.

On Miting, another court meeting convened against this backdrop.

“So you’re saying…” Archavon suddenly craned his neck, the amethyst monitor embedded in his cheekbone flashing a dangerous red light. “Is executing Admiral Hawke a mistake?”

The Chief of Military Affairs’ Adam’s apple rolled. “We’re simply worried that executing our best fleet commander will shake…”

“Shake what? Shake the maggots’ efficiency in consuming the rotting flesh?” Archavon suddenly pulled back the curtain, revealing a face crisscrossed with purple veins—the aftereffects of long-term injections of some high-quality drug. He stepped barefoot on the kneeling Finance Minister’s back, his spine, studded with pleasure ports, bulging like a centipede beneath his silk robe.

Another minister knelt and handed over a dataslate. “Over the past three months, the rate of fall of border systems has increased by 37%. The Royal Fleet needs…”

“It needs purer loyalty!” Archavon kicked the dataslate, shattering it, the sharp fragments grazing the minister’s cheek. “Just like the truth I discovered when I cleansed the kitchen last month—only when 98% of the common ingredients are removed can the true flavor of a maiden’s heart and liver soup be revealed.”

A muffled sound suddenly came from the ceiling of the hall, and a few grains of gold dust fell on the Minister of Etiquette’s carefully maintained wig. Everyone tacitly ignored the regular tremors that had lasted for four months—the aftermath of the bombing of the orbital defense platforms.

For the past four months, small-scale Alliance fleets had been invading the Mitin system, occasionally firing at the orbital defense platforms.

“Perhaps we could consider contacting the Control Committee…” The young Foreign Affairs Secretary began, but was interrupted.

“Contact?” Archavon suddenly chuckled, pulling a barbed silver comb from a hidden compartment in his throne room and frantically combing through his tangled hair. “Do you know what happened in the execution chamber yesterday? The man claiming to be Gu Hang’s messenger had his internal organs reassembled into a work of art within a strong magnetic field!”

“Actually, the people’s loyalty…” The Civil Affairs Minister had just activated the holographic projection when the Führer pierced his palm with a silver comb and pinned him to the wall.

“Loyalty? Let me see!” Archavon inserted the neural access port into the Civil Affairs Minister’s eye socket, and a blood-stained holographic image instantly filled the hall—a flesh-and-blood mass was being held in the lower levels of a hive, where mutant believers had inscribed excerpts from the “Petition to the Fellow Citizens in Disaster” on the wall with bone spurs.

“Is this what you call loyalty?!” He grasped the Civil Affairs Minister’s skull, and purple nails began to extend, starting from various organs in the head and slowly piercing into the brain.

The man screamed in agony, but to Archavon’s ears, it sounded like exquisite music.

He had even listened to the whispers of pain during countless past tortures, learning how to adjust his techniques to make the music even more melodious.

Most of the ministers around him joined him in his enjoyment. While they might become instruments in the future, at least for now they were listeners.

A few, however, maintained clear eyes and exchanged glances.

The Minister of Defense, the most important figure in the Ministry of Military Affairs, finally sighed silently under the gazes of his colleagues, then nodded slightly.

Taking the cue, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs pressed a button on his lower back with a sense of relief.

Thirty-six minutes later, the torture was drawing to a close, the music drawing to a close.

But at that moment, all the lights in the royal court began to flicker violently. Then, to everyone’s panic, they suddenly went out.

Twelve bolts of lightning split the blast-proof door of the conference hall. Terminator Space Marines, with their red backgrounds and white borders, bearing the symbol of the bird of rebirth, trampled heavily across the black jade floor.

(End of Chapter)