Chapter 404: The Great Archangel Saint Guilliman Used the Spear of Completion

Karnea Danda's shocking bow to the ground left Zhou Yun stunned.

For a moment, Karnea Danda treated Zhou Yun as if he were a statue in a cathedral, pouring out all her inner suffering without restraint.

"You don't understand—those old bastards are truly evil!"

"At the time, the High Lord Council announced they would appoint a Free Trader as one of their own, and the major Free Trader families convened to deliberate."

"I had only taken over my family for seven or eight years—I was still inexperienced."

"Those old bastards claimed Free Traders hadn't produced a High Lord in two thousand years, and since I'd just inherited my family, this opportunity must be the Emperor's will."

"Then, without even asking my consent, they forced the position upon me, claiming the High Lordship was the most powerful role in the Empire, and that I'd be granted all trade near Terra."

"Thirty years—I've been High Lord for thirty years, and all I've done is review documents and fight for power with other High Lords. Getting two hours of sleep a day is a gift from the Emperor."

"As for trade near Terra? Pfft! The other High Lords constantly sabotage my merchant vessels—every deal turns into a nightmare. If I break even in a year, I count myself lucky."

"Thirty years—and I, a Free Trader granted a blood-signed charter by the Emperor himself, have never once sailed a single ship."

"My lord, I beg you—I don't want to be High Lord anymore. I want to sail! Let me go sail!"

In Karnea Danda's tear-filled eyes, Zhou Yun saw not a trace of attachment to power—only an overwhelming longing to sail.

Zhou Yun had originally intended to remove Karnea Danda from her position as High Lord, expecting resistance—but instead, she was begging him to do it.

For a moment, Zhou Yun felt relieved he'd refused the position Kiriman had tried to force upon him.

Look at this fine Free Trader—broken and worn down by the High Lordship.

Karnea Danda was relatively young, barely over sixty, and with rejuvenation tech, her body should resemble that of a twenty- or thirty-year-old.

Yet in reality, she looked older than Tiruien, her muscles and skin twitching unnaturally—clear signs of deep, hidden ailments.

"Think back—when I was still a young Free Trader woman, sailing freely across the galaxy, earning wealth by the Emperor's will."

"Then, in the blink of an eye, I was dragged into this prison called High Lordship, enduring thirty years of cruel toil."

"Where do I turn for justice? Why? The Emperor himself signed our family's blood charter, granting us the right to sail for generations!"

Karnea Danda wiped her nose and tears, then clung to Zhou Yun's leg.

She radiated the determination: either remove her High Lordship and let her return to sailing, or kill her right here.

Watching Karnea Danda weep, Zhou Yun silently picked up another copper pancake from the table and ate it.

Then Zhou Yun pulled out Kiriman's letter of dismissal from his fourth-dimensional pocket and waved it before Karnea Danda.

Karnea Danda looked up blankly at the dismissal letter; once she read its contents, her gaze locked onto it.

As Zhou Yun moved the letter, her eyes followed its motion like a puppet on strings.

When Zhou Yun handed her the letter, she clutched it to her chest and wept uncontrollably, babbling endless thanks to him.

But when Karnea Danda calmed down and examined the letter closely, she froze as if struck by lightning.

The dismissal letter removed her duties as High Lord—but not her role as Spokesperson of the Free Traders.

It did not permit her to leave Terra or return to her family's flagship to sail freely.

Instead, it ordered her to immediately proceed to the Axiom Core Fortress, the Free Traders' headquarters on Terra, and begin rebuilding the Empire's shattered trade routes.

Karnea Danda clearly hadn't studied history—she didn't know what Kiriman was truly like.

Kiriman might strip her of power, but he'd never let her stop working.

Karnea Danda turned her pleading eyes toward Zhou Yun once more.

"You are so merciful," Karnea Danda nearly wailed. "Please, don't withhold this mercy."

"This is already the best Kiriman could offer you."

"My mercy must yield to the needs of reality."

Zhou Yun's expression flickered imperceptibly, then he said:

"Or do you not even want this—and still wish to remain High Lord?"

As he spoke, Zhou Yun reached to snatch the dismissal letter from Karnea Danda's hands.

Karnea Danda froze. She suspected Zhou Yun was bluffing—that this Saint Doraemon had always intended to remove her.

But she dared not move. She had been trapped in the High Lord's prison for too long—any escape, no matter how flawed, was one she refused to abandon.

Once, to escape the High Lordship, Karnea Danda had even attempted suicide.

But as a High Lord, she was no longer an individual—Free Traders, her allied High Lords, even her enemies all wanted her alive to preserve stability.

Her guards watched her constantly; the finest doctors, alchemists, and Mechanicus savants on Terra ensured she would never die before a proper replacement was secured.

Compared to the prison of High Lordship, being reassigned to the Axiom Core to manage trade routes was already a blessing.

Karnea Danda gripped the dismissal letter tightly, accepting Kiriman's order with bittersweet joy.

"Don't fear—work hard. The galaxy will settle soon," Zhou Yun said, patting her shoulder, his fingers brushing the Heat-Performance Board & Robot Director to infuse his words with persuasive power: "Then you'll be free to sail as you wish."

Zhou Yun had heard from Kiriman of Karnea Danda's record—among the twelve High Lords, she was among the least corrupt, with an understanding of trade and routes far beyond mortal norms.

But Zhou Yun had just sensed something worse: Karnea Danda had a strong self-destructive impulse—a mark of the Domain of Entropy. He was acutely sensitive to such things—and this was dangerous. Such a valuable asset couldn't be allowed to kill herself.

That's why he'd given her a pep talk, offered her hope, and urged her to keep working—don't die.

After offering a few more words of comfort, Zhou Yun took one last copper pancake from the dwindling pile and left Karnea Danda's palace in the Imperial Court.

Karnea Danda stared in surprise at the nearly finished stack of copper pancakes.

Clearly, Saint Doraemon still loved copper pancakes.

But what puzzled her was this: if Saint Doraemon wanted more, he could simply store them in his fourth-dimensional pocket.

Why then did he use his avatar, Yebi Daxiong, to take another—and why did Yebi Daxiong eat it himself?

The sounds of steel, iron, steam, and promethium burning filled the room, pounding against Ilto Simotrien's ears, making his nerves twitch uncontrollably.

His assistant minister, Nethos, helped Ilto navigate the tangled, thick, unorganized cables.

Every time he came to Terra, he consumed hundreds of years' worth of Neiwu Force officials' salaries—he thought bitterly.

One cost was transportation: moving him required eight colossal cranes; this iron behemoth could barely move on its own.

The other was energy: his daily consumption could power a Lei Ying gunship to circle Terra for a hundred years.

Disgusting—but Ilto had to endure it.

The other High Lords were unreliable.

The Fawu Force and the Ecclesiarchy still stood firmly by his side.

But the Sisters of Battle had clearly submitted to the Chaos God.

The Assassinorum remained strictly neutral.

And the Imperial Guard, loyal to the Primarchs and wary of the Chaos God, hesitated—soon they would become the Chaos God's enslaved servants.

Ilto now had only one ally left: the man from Mars before him.

"Click—"

The sound of mechanical movement echoed in the darkness. The construction on this fellow High Lord was incomplete—but Ilto valued precisely this secrecy.

"Chief Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Master of the Cult of the Omnissiah, Forge General of Mars, Ude Udiya Laski."

The laborers' mechanical, dry voices announced the High Lord's title.

"Ilto, you've come to visit my construction site?" The Forge General's voice emerged from the darkness.

Compared to the laborers, this Forge General's voice was far more human—not because he'd undergone fewer modifications, but because he'd undergone more, richer, and more horrific ones to achieve this effect.

Ilto never entered another's domain—he always sought the advantage of initiative.

But now there was no time for such considerations—he must protect everything the Empire once held from destruction.

The Forge General was an ally he must secure; the Ecclesiastical Militia and Titan Legions under his command were critical.

After all—even a Primarch couldn't stand against a Titan, could he?

Ilto never believed the Ecclesiarchy's lies—stories like "The Great Archangel Saint Guilliman struck down an Emperor-class Titan with the Spear of Completion."

Even a three-year-old wouldn't believe such absurd tales!

Ilto stared coldly into the darkness, his voice sharp as a blade:

"Tell me, Ude Udiya Laski."

"Will you, like those cowards, kneel before the Primarchs and the Chaos God?"

(End of Chapter)