Chapter 115: Illegal Psychic Unit

Psychic flames roared through the air, wrapping around the gene-thieves hiding among the noble private soldiers.

“Yaaaaaahhh!!!” A chorus of agonized screams erupted from the crowd.

A group of robed psychics, their eyes tinged with madness, appeared behind the gene-thieves without warning.

These psychics clutched staffs and roared as they unleashed their psychic power.

Unquenchable soulfire and searing psychic lightning howled forth, piercing one pure-blood gene-thief after another.

General Droste stared in shock at the scene.

Where had such a powerful psychic force suddenly emerged from?

The Empire’s majority of psychics were taken away by the Black Ships; scattered illegal psychics could never muster a unit.

There was only one possibility: someone in high position had secretly sheltered a large number of illegal psychics who escaped the Black Ships.

General Droste frowned at the gaunt old man protected by the psychics.

The man was younger than him, yet seemed ravaged by endless terror, aged beyond his years.

General Droste recognized him at once.

Viceroy Augustus Flax, the coward who hid in the shelter—and who had clashed with Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun casually reached out, gripped the head of a pure-blood gene-thief, tore it off, and crushed it into a lump before tossing it aside.

He turned toward Augustus Flax, hidden behind the protecting psychics.

“Oi, you came?” Zhou Yun grinned.

His figure flickered slightly, evading Lycat, who had been lurking in the shadows, attempting to ambush him.

The winged figure within Bai Guang blazed with brilliant light, marking every hidden Lycat.

Zhou Yun seized the Lycat’s claw and yanked it downward with brute force, tearing it clean off.

Before it could react, he shoved it into his fourth-dimensional pocket.

This was to prevent the Lycat’s consciousness from returning to the Hive Mind upon death.

Zhou Yun took a few steps forward and in an instant stood before Viceroy Augustus Flax.

The psychics guarding the Viceroy rushed to block Zhou Yun’s path.

“Stand still!!!” The psychic closest to Augustus Flax drew a deep breath, psychic energy surging from his body as he shouted.

More mind-whispering tricks? Do all psychics love this crap?

Zhou Yun shook his head in exasperation.

This guy’s psychic power couldn’t match Leina’s—it had zero effect on him.

Zhou Yun flicked a finger lightly; invisible telekinesis slammed into the psychic, flinging him hard backward.

The psychics guarding Viceroy Augustus Flax instantly showed traces of fear.

That man had been among their strongest—and Zhou Yun had dispatched him effortlessly.

Augustus Flax showed no surprise, just as Zhou Yun had shown no surprise at his appearance.

Zhou Yun knew Augustus Flax’s nature: cowardly, but if pushed far enough, he would strike back.

He had done the same when confronting the gene-thief chieftain, and when trying to kill Zhou Yun not long ago.

The battle across Asford was growing worse; gene-thieves were now appearing on the battlefield.

Augustus Flax had made the right choice—deploying his psychic unit into combat.

“Servitor?” Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow, asking Viceroy Augustus Flax.

“Servitor.” Augustus Flax nodded, voice hoarse.

It was a servitor he had once commissioned the Archmagos Belisarius Cawl to build—its appearance and movements nearly identical to Augustus Flax’s own.

“I’ve come to support you—with this psychic unit.”

Augustus Flax, fearing Zhou Yun might misunderstand, pointed to the psychics beside him:

“They are under your command.”

“Me?” Zhou Yun arched an eyebrow—this was unexpected.

“I’m no fool. I know who’s most capable, who can best utilize them.” Augustus Flax glared dryly at Zhou Yun.

“Is that so?” Zhou Yun shrugged, turning to look at General Droste, who was directing the Cadian Shock Troops to mop up remaining gene-thieves.

The Cadian Shock Troops under Zhou Yun’s command had been enhanced by the Acceleration Spring—far faster and more responsive than normal.

Already well-trained, they now held their own even against pure-blood gene-thieves.

“General Droste! I’ve got a unit of illegal psychics for you to command!”

Zhou Yun gestured to the illegal psychics beside him.

Commanding troops? He wasn’t good at it, and didn’t care to.

Helping the Astra Militarum hold out this long was enough; many Asford residents had already been evacuated to the Upper Spire, and further toward the Starport.

Zhou Yun planned to leave soon, when the Cadian Shock Troops began withdrawing toward the Starport.

By then, his role on the battlefield would be negligible—and he had his own urgent matters to attend to, no longer able to remain with the Astra Militarum.

“Illegal psychics?” General Droste’s voice rose sharply—he seemed reluctant.

It wasn’t surprising that Droste was wary.

Illegal psychics often went berserk or descended into madness, even becoming portals for demons to invade reality.

Especially since Droste noticed these illegal psychics carried varying degrees of madness in their eyes—

Whether from the influence of the Warp’s shadow, or simply always been mentally unstable.

“Well, they’re still useful.” Droste muttered, clearly disdainful.

Considering the Warp’s shadow prevented the blasphemous creations of the High Heaven from invading reality, the risks posed by these illegal psychics remained manageable.

Watching Zhou Yun hand over command of the psychic unit without hesitation, and seeing Droste accept it with obvious reluctance, Augustus Flax’s cheek twitched slightly.

How could they view his decades-long-constructed psychic unit as something to be despised?

Augustus Flax took a deep breath and asked in a low voice: “Is this enough to spare my life?”

If only pursued by Tiberius, Augustus Flax felt he still had some chance of escape.

But with Zhou Yun added to the threat, he felt hope vanish.

“.Huh?” Zhou Yun’s gaze toward Augustus Flax turned sharply dismissive: “Do you even remember who you are, Augustus Flax?”

“You are Viceroy of Asford. Everything you’ve done isn’t extra devotion—it’s your duty.”

“In this Empire, everyone must bear their responsibility. You enjoyed the luxury of being Viceroy—you must protect this world.”

Zhou Yun slapped Augustus Flax’s shoulder:

“Open your eyes. Those gutter scum fighting the swarms are the ones truly giving—they bear the responsibility you should’ve shouldered.”

“Spare your life? Many better people died for this. What makes you worthy of living?”

Augustus Flax had no reply.

Zhou Yun punched Augustus Flax’s shoulder hard.

It was the way gutter gang thugs greeted each other—Augustus Flax could only stare blankly in response.

“Asford is at its final hour. So are you.”

“Find some courage, Viceroy.”

Zhou Yun chuckled:

“At least give a little more of the duty you never gave before.”

With that, Zhou Yun turned and walked away.

As the gene-thieves launched their assault, the gutter swarms also attacked—he and General Droste needed to turn back and reinforce the Lower Spire.

The swarms once again demonstrated their superior combat discipline.

When the Upper Spire gene-thieves were ambushed and eliminated by the Astra Militarum, the Hive Mind must have immediately realized its plan had failed.

The Lower Spire swarms swiftly retreated, no longer wasting biomass in hopeless combat.

Moreover, through the eyes of gene-thieves and Lycats, the Hive Mind had surely seen Zhou Yun heading toward the Lower Spire.

To preserve its biomass, the Hive Mind fled without hesitation.

By the time Zhou Yun reached the Lower Spire, the swarms had already withdrawn—most of them, and even the corpses of dead swarms had been mostly reclaimed by the Ripperfiends.

Beneath the gaze of the Saint Guilliman statue, near the Sanchalukou outpost, Zhou Yun walked wearily through the ruins left by the Cadians’ battle with the swarms.

He hoped to find a few intact node creatures or the corpses of Tyranid titans untouched by the swarms.

But he found only low-tier Tyranid organisms, barely scraping together a hundred thousand credits.

“Oh no.”

Suddenly, Zhou Yun heard several agonized moans—terribly unpleasant moans.

He paused, because the sound felt vaguely familiar.

He followed the sound and saw a small, curled-up figure lying in the rubble.

The man clutched his stomach, curled like a boiled shrimp, whimpering softly.

He wore no Cadian gear—he must have been a Lower Spire gangster.

Zhou Yun stepped closer; the man, lost in pain, didn’t notice his approach.

Zhou Yun reached out and turned the man’s head.

“Z-Zhou Yun?”

The man had an ugly, grotesque face, his abdomen torn open by a horrifying wound, his internal organs exposed to the air.

He clutched his ruined innards desperately, trying to keep them from spilling out.

“Luo Ge?” Zhou Yun stared, looking at the dying man.

(End of chapter)