Otrama! New Empire!

Faraway! Rich! Freely! Wish! Stick together! Gritty!

Come to Otlama, come to the new frontier of the galaxy, and come and share the future with us.

Build your new life in Cowe, settle in Octavia, enjoy the air and forests in Ulysses, and earn a seat in Maculag for the most outstanding contributions, alongside the Genoplasm and Astarte, and your bloodline will be a candidate for the Angel of the Emperor.

A new world, a new destiny!

The choice is yours.

——————

【……】

[Killiman.] 】

[Have you ever thought that as a propaganda poster to encourage immigrants, it seems to be a little ...... Square peg? 】

"This pattern of immigration propaganda posters has been distributed around the Empire for at least thirty Terra standard years, and there hasn't been any official Empire response to it yet, so ...... Is there anything that doesn't follow the rules? ”

【…… Forget it, when I didn't say it. 】

The Spider Queen's gaze swept over the somewhat unfaithful but appropriate words, and she saw the Macurag printed on immigration posters and leaflets: the verdant continent, the rich sea, and the sweet air were indeed worthy of the "New World" that most people imagined.

And underneath this rather wonderful picture of paradise are the simple poems composed by the propaganda tongues nurtured by the Lord of Maculag: these unfettered hymns are indeed simple in terms of the talent and aesthetics of the genetic protogen, but they are definitely specially processed to capture the weakness of the mortal heart, and in the face of their goals, the vulgar language is precisely more important, and the place where these leaflets will not go is the great library of Prospero and Macurag.

Morgan pursed her lips, she flipped through another leaflet, on which there were several undeveloped worlds with few traces of civilization, but they were also highlighted as recommended places to live, and then, she saw a string of small print.

[You're still handing out this kind of flyer to the Imperial Auxiliaries?] 】

"Yes, a veteran of the Auxiliary Army who is willing to settle in Otlama, regardless of the unit in which he serves, will be welcomed in Otlama as long as he can provide the corresponding documents, ribbons of honor, and the official seal on the service record book, as well as a piece of land according to the length of his service."

【Land?】 】

"Yes, land, for every eighteen years of military service that has been recognized and sealed, twenty acres of land on the colonial world of Kauss, and those lands located by the river, with their fertile black alluvial soil, can produce the wealth of these veterans in peace, and the only thing they need to pay is hard work."

[Nice idea, but if my guess is correct: veterans like this rarely adapt to rural life, and would rather exchange land for wealth and go to the more prosperous civilized world, or simply fall into poverty through mismanagement of wealth, after all, you can't expect a professional soldier who has served for more than a decade or more to become an expert in agriculture before starving himself to death.] 】

“…… Indeed, there are many examples of this, Morgan, how do you know? ”

[It is not difficult to read the history of Rome, Gilliman: I think you know the disadvantages of this system, and you should be glad that you are more like Sulla, Caesar, and Augustus than Cicero, Pompey, and Cato the Younger.] 】

"There is something wrong with your words, my dear blood relative: I don't want to be August, nor do I want to be a father sitting in the temple of the Concorde, my idol is Cincinnatius, yes, Cincinnatus in every sense of the word."

"As for the system: of course there are some problems, but what you have pointed out is not the main problem, and any system about land has only one life, and that is that sooner or later the land will be divided, and all the ideas and propaganda surrounding the land will become ridiculous castles in the air."

"The Roman land system was killed by the waves of the Rhine and Tigris, and then turned into other bad news, but the same fate will not befall me for a while, and after so many years, the land I have allocated is not enough for Cowes to be completely cultivated, and I have to think of more ways, such as getting the administration to exempt the Cowes pioneers from tolls."

The Lord of Maculag spoke eloquently, and though he mentioned a sad subject, his countenance was light, even a little joyful: it was evident that discussing these meaningful topics with a blood relative was a novel experience he had never had before, and it was enough to dilute the annoyance of the problem itself.

Morgan paused the subject with a soft grunt of goodwill and turned her attention once again to the dazzling array of propaganda posters and pamphlets that the Lord of the Second Legion saw as a skill to be learned, believing that sooner or later her Avalon would be useful for them.

Opposite her, at a long table across from her, Killiman sat in front of his contemplative, dealing with temporary emergencies: temporary and urgent, words that come out of nowhere like a pair of arguing lovers, but yet appear everywhere for granted.

He was quicker, more ruthless and efficient than any precision instrument Morgan had ever seen, but far more primitive than the darlings of the Cult of the Mechanica: the vassal king of the Five Hundred Worlds stubbornly refused to use the more high-tech objects, he was unaccustomed to the crackling keyboards, tape recorders, and auxiliary reading instruments of the Ponders, and the latest memory pens and thought recorders, though they sat by his crumbling stack of books, were never picked up.

He holds a pen, which can always be grasped by the most ordinary hand, without any peculiarities, an antique pen, using it to record countless information on the electronic board, dealing with any complex situation involving the five universes of Otrama, he is like a statue, only his right hand is constantly moving, capturing, processing and recording everything he cares about: whether it is the continuous report on the electronic board, or the thousands of announcements and data updates that appear on the secondary display on the left, he observes and records all this.

Information is victory.

Inadvertently, Killeman used his actions to tell this sentence to his blood relatives, and explained its true meaning over and over again, and when Morgan blinked his eyes and observed the ruthless and efficient operation of his blood relatives, she took the shortest time to come to the conclusion that there was a huge gap between her and Killiman in the handling of government affairs, the reception of data, and the archiving of information.

She was indeed able to do what Killiman was as she was, but it required a very serious and unadulterated concentration, and the calm and grace of the Lord of Maculag at this time meant that all this was a trivial matter to him, and he even had time to chat with Morgan normally, and invite her to taste the wine that had been placed in the alcove.

Morgan didn't answer, she just quietly read the last page of the poster, chewed all the art and essence in it, and digested it slowly, before getting up and walking to the corner where the bronze flask was placed: this was not an easy job, because Killiman's cramped sub-office was not a good place to be neat and tidy, and it was littered with crumbling stacks of books and messy notebooks in every inch of the corner. The instruments used to collect this information were kept in this office by Lord Maculag as a means for him to retrieve the corresponding information at any time in the future.

Killeman is well organized and everything is too small.

Killeman was chaotic and messy.

Utterly contradictory words, yet in this room there is such harmony and unity, as if it were the only master of this room: the great Lord of Maculag, who has set up a corresponding office for all his affairs in every respect, has reached a peak of his efficiency in dealing with things and the retracing of his memory, which is his rigorous attitude.

But looking at any single office, the layout of these places was so bad and chaotic that it would make the most diligent cleaners feel heartfelt despair, and he greedily collected all the information and documents he could until they filled every inch of space, turning the whole room into a messy storage den: his greedy thirst.

Rigorous attitude and greedy curiosity: these two attributes, which are almost incompatible, have reached a strange tacit understanding and balance in Killiman, and they are constantly manifested in the gestures of the genetic prototype like the rising waves, shaping himself into a somewhat contradictory concentration, and for a moment it is impossible to distinguish which is the innate instinct and which is the acquired educational achievement.

Morgan recognized this, just as she realized that beneath the appearance of the stauntiful and mature Archon of Maculag was a fierce warrior, and this was clearly demonstrated by the more than twenty successive duels: Killiman's performances in the duel were enough to show that his life path might have been biased towards an efficient warrior and martial artist at the beginning, but there is no doubt that his acquired education and care changed this forever. made him a ruler who deserved to be respected in every way.

His nature is changed by those external factors called affection and education, suppressing the bad parts and preserving and even promoting the good ones.

Thinking of this, even in the Spider Queen's still cold and stubborn vicious heart, I couldn't help but feel a trace of sourness and a wisp of jealousy visible to the naked eye.

However, she did not manifest it.

Although he felt an inexplicable touch because of the few normal people in this genetic prototype, it did not mean that the Lord of the Second Legion would show more sincerity to this brother who had only known each other for more than a day, Morgan always hoped that he could hide more and then obtain more from others.

Just like in the tactical duel with Killiman, she did not hesitate to use the tactics of the Iron Warriors, the ruthlessness of the Mechon, and the things she had witnessed in the Dark Angel Legion, but she never dealt a truly devastating blow to the Second Legion in battle, and embodied the efficient annihilation tactics and fast three-dimensional coordination in front of the Lord of Maculag, so that he could get the opportunity to learn this true foundation.

On the other hand, the Archon of Macurag, who was so frank that he had almost no information about everything about his legion, including the deployment of firepower, the numbering of armored units, and the preferred tactics, was clearly revealed to his sisters: although he could always quickly counter Morgan's strategy, in general, his own strategy was similar.

Morgan can now write the entire Ultramarines Legion with her eyes closed, and what each of their warbands will do in which corner of the battlefield, and she can even deduce what reactions and decisions all the warbands will make when they encounter unexpected situations, because Killeman has shown her too many times.

At this point, Morgan seems to have won, and if it weren't for the strangely born preaching in front of Gilliman, which made her expose more things that shouldn't be revealed, she thought she might have won a little more thoroughly.

Morgan walked through this jumble of words, and for a moment Killiman's impression changed from a radiant king of Macullag to some kind of furry rodent that was frantically busy and screaming in her storage cave before winter set in, and she almost wanted to laugh out loud.

Morgan didn't use psionic powers, she dragged the tall flask and utensils on a tray, and stood patiently on the side of the genotype, waiting for him to finish processing the last bit of information.

Through the bronze shell of the flask, she could clearly smell the fermented grape juice, and a lot of information was wrapped up in the somewhat sour and sweet tastes: the alcohol concentration, color, acidity and other elements, or the soil in which it was grown, the fragments of the genetic code and nutrients of the vines, and the trace minerals mixed with the water.

This is the information that Morgan is able to capture from a single breath, and it is also her natural ability as a genetic agent, and it is for this reason that she never dares to let the bad fiddle with her so-called "classical wine" and "Atalanta" in front of other blood relatives, because she knows the risks of doing so.

Overall, the Spider Queen is still a cautious figure, and when she is not so close to her blood relatives, her mind will survive well in the combination of prudence and conservatism.

Morgan blinked, and she was standing on Killiman's side, which allowed her to see the secondary monitors on Killiman's other side and spot a problem just in time.

[Omission. 】

"What?"

[An omission, Killiman.] 】

"Where?"

The genogen sincerely asked his question, and when he followed the guidance of his blood relatives and found out the problem in one of the secondary monitors, his face showed a sincere happiness.

"Thank you, Morgan."

[Nothing. 】

The Spider Empress smiled, and in her bland teal pupils flickered tens of thousands of wailing alien souls that Killiman could never hear, including even some of the steadfast followers of the Orc Twins.

Yes, orcs: Morgan's attempts to cook the souls of these strange creatures had failed, but in her last unrelenting attempt, she had stumbled upon the fact that although these souls born for war could not stay in her mind for long, nor could they be devoured by her, if they were burned as a mere consumable, they could have avoided the counterattack launched by their strange twin gods in time, as long as they did not take too much at once.

If there were still some debris that could not be resolved, she could also throw the burning garbage next to the golden greatsword, and although it would let out a roar of displeasure, it would still help the Spider Queen clean up the mess.

[This is a question about the direct governance of Astarte?] 】

"Yes, the son of Ulysses I sent to the Forest World is a somewhat immature Archon, and there is a logical loophole in his report that should not exist, and I have ignored this out of habit, thank you for reminding me, Morgan."

[Astarte's direct rule?] 】

"No, it's not so direct, it's more about oversight and indirect management, Ulysses is a world that has just begun to be cultivated on a large scale, and the mortal government is good enough to manage it well, and there are no notable solidified classes and corrupt groups on this planet, and its mortal governor is also a powerful person I have personally selected."

[Then when the problems you are talking about arise, you plan to use some more brutal means? 】

"I'll think about it, but I'm not going to put it into use right away."

Killiman's answer took a moment of thought and concern.

"Even the slightest violence should be followed by the most serious verbal warnings, and I was sure of that in my mind when I first started to integrate and push my Otrama."

My Otrama.

How radiant and sacrosanct the face of this Lord of Macurag was, and how he took it for granted and unaware when he uttered it.

This reminded Morgan of the phrase she had seen on the poster, the rather unfaithful phrase: The New Empire.

Interestingly, no one reacted more violently to these phrases, both within and outside the new empire, as if everyone was silently acknowledging the disguised legitimacy of this strange state of affairs, and everyone was ignoring its strangeness, just as they ignored the Martians singing their ode to the metal gods in a place where imperial truth prevailed.

It's like saying that the greatest and most legendary empires always belong to universal empires, doesn't it?

Morgan's heart laughed at her thoughts, but she didn't show any flaws on the surface, but continued her little conversation with her own blood relatives.

[Ah, I have indeed heard this, they say that after you joined the empire, you formed a federal group by means of diplomacy and a community of interests, and gradually reorganized it into the five hundred worlds it is today. 】

[I suppose this is all the art of negotiation and politics?] 】

"Not exactly."

Killiman shook his head, he finished the last document he had and took the wine glass handed over by his blood relative, the right amount of wine in it was enough to quench the thirst and anxiety of ten mortals at the same time, but for a genetic agent, it was only enough for him to taste it.

"Some of the five hundred core worlds are unwilling to give in, they can't accept my ideas and proposals anyway, and I can't bypass their existence to implement my next plan, so some means of violence and coercion, even extermination orders, are also essential."

[I guess, there aren't many places like this?] 】

"Not too little, thirty-eight."

Killiman spat out the number as if he were repeating it all the time in his mind, and when he spit it out, his face became a little gloomy, and the Lord of Maculag rubbed the corners of his brow, took a sip of wine, and sighed silently.

"In fact, when I look back on all of this later, there are a few of them that could have been solved by other means, rather than having to go so badly, and I once regarded efficiency and speed as a little too important, and ignored other more important things, such as the living life and the brilliant culture, and the precipitated history."

[You can't be blamed for this kind of thing, can you? 】

Morgan chuckled.

[Even the master of the Ultramarines can't stop the torrent of the entire galaxy, the Great Expedition is overly nervous, everyone is crazy, eager to devote themselves to more conquests and expeditions. 】

[When it took me less than a year to conquer a sector, everyone was singing the praises of my efficient killing, but when I stopped a little and started something unimportant, the army became suspicious and worried about my next steps. 】

[I don't know when it began, everyone is eager to embrace the entire galaxy into their arms tomorrow, and then start to build an eternal empire the day after tomorrow.] 】

"You're right, Morgan, ruins, and hateful people can't build an empire, but we now have to face more and more situations where the blades of empire burn the prosperity of the resisters, and then put more taxes on their heads for the burning of another world: this is not the way to go."

The Lord of Macurag smiled a little weakly, his noble status and powerful kingdom gave his words an innate credibility, and after sorting through the last stack of scattered books, he truly turned his golden gaze to his blood relatives.

"I have studied your conquests near your home planet Avalon, and am glad to see that you will put negotiations and political compromise before real war, I remember that there are quite a few human colonies throughout the Avalon Planet, and with the exception of the hopeless pirates, you have shown great patience with each of our scattered counterparts, and only those few acts of war have been both efficient and compassionate."

Morgan blinked: why didn't she feel the so-called [compassion within her power]?

[If I said it was a helpless move, would you believe it?] Killiman? 】

The Lord of Maculag didn't answer, and his kind smile spoke for itself.

"You need not be humble, my blood relative, and you need not feel like an outlier for this, although most of our brothers are obsessed with conquest and glory, as if only the blood on the blade and the submission of all enemies can make them feel that they are serving the Emperor, but even so, there are still several noble brothers who share your path."

"For example, Horus and St. Giles, no one will deny their nobility and strength, and no one will refute that they always put negotiation and political compromise before the real battle, and that their progress has not fallen far behind, or even far ahead, which is enough to show that peace is not a ridiculous lie, but a practical means."

"When one world refuses to surrender because of prejudice against us and arrogance toward itself, there are ten or more worlds that see our fleet as protection and gospel from the home planet of humanity, and if all this is real, why not take advantage of it?"

Morgan smiled.

[I can imagine, Killiman, that you may have said this many times, but it was not always popular, for a quick, ruthless, and successful conquest may not last even a night, and a negotiation may cause a legacy that lasts decades or more. 】

"Doesn't conquest cause disaster?"

Killiman's pupils flashed with something strange.

"Slaughter and terror, they may be effective in ten years, they may intimidate the nerves of a generation, but when a new generation grows up, the power of this deterrence will fade faster than the snow of spring, and if we cannot think of the rule of a generation on the first day of the conquest of a world, then the empire we have built together will hardly be able to sustain it until then."

[Do you have a better means than slaughter?] 】

"Loyal bureaucrats, the restoration of the organizational structure of production and the productive forces, a certain propaganda and a military deterrent that can arrive in time: of course, all this is not as effective as the real benefit, which for the time being alone can be a guarantee of security, which is what the vast majority of the world desires."

Morgan nodded.

[It sounds like there is a profound theory behind these words.] 】

"Do you need it?"

[If my kingdom stops at a sector, then I really don't need to, but just before I visit Otlama, several of my long-range fleets have already departed. 】

The Lord of Maculag laughed, and a flash of pride and humility flashed across Killiman's face.

"It's okay, we have more time to discuss this topic. If you need any help with this, Otlama will always be a trustworthy choice. ”

Won't this hinder your progress in the Great Expedition? 】

"No, I haven't had any real problems with manpower, I've chosen a more effective and stable alternative to indifferent military operations, so when our brothers are struggling with their lack of troops, I have more children to devote to other important places."

【……】

[Your words seem to be criticized by many people. 】

"Yes, but they don't have any more evidence to criticize me, after all, they are often inferior to me in terms of efficiency that they praise and value, and this is one of the few places where I can outperform my other brothers."

[Inferior to all? 】

"Mostly, but not exactly, I admit that there are a few better and more efficient people than me, whose names shine brightly in the center of the Great Expedition."

For a moment, a hint of gloom flashed in Morgan's pupils, and she clearly felt Killiman's almost irrepressible arrogance, which was not malicious, not even acquired, but an innate perfection, which could not be more clearly displayed with the gestures of the Lord of Maculag.

This innate arrogance may have had no less effect than Otrama himself in the midst of his unpopular rumours, but Gilliman may have been more sluggish in that regard.

In Morgan's silence, Killiman finished the last little thing at hand, and then he tapped the table, stood up, and looked apologetically at his blood relatives.

"Alright, Morgan, let's start our sightseeing program while it's still time, I'm sorry for the delay for a while, I hope you don't get impatient because of this."

[How could it be?] 】

Morgan's smile shattered Killiman's worries for the first time, and he saw in that smile a kind of reliability and sincerity that he could not doubt, could not think.

[I even want to make this a little longer, Killiman, I have a lot of questions for you.] 】

"We can talk as we go."

So, the Lord of Maculag led his blood relatives through the magnificent corridors of Hera's Castle, and instead of immediately going to the city of Maculag, they entered a quiet temple with no more decoration, except for a stunningly perfect work of art in the center: a full-scale model of the city of Maculag.

"Thousands of years of history and generations of hard work have shaped this city, and my blood relatives, my reign is only a pittance compared to those pioneers."

"All these things you see now, most of them were born before I came, and nothing better illustrates the customs of Maculag than their weathered and hard facades: let me point you to the most important buildings, Morgan, and together we can plan a best sightseeing route."

"This is Hera's Crown Mountain, the highest point in the whole city of Maculag, where you can overlook everything in the city of Maculag."

"This is the Crown Baths, the oldest public bathing place in the entire city of Maculag, and it is said that it was built in the first year of the city's founding."

"This is the Ptolemaic Library, the largest repository of knowledge in the eastern part of the galaxy, and a collection center for books."

"This is the Baths of Caracalla, the first attempt in the history of the city of Maculag to combine the baths with entertainment equipment, just across the street from the Ptolemaic Library."

"This is the Military Square, it is the center of all public activities in the city of Maculag, and it is not too far from the inner court and the Central Praetorian Guard barracks, and it is very easy to get anywhere in the city from here."

"This is the Central Bath of Maculag, which is a new type of large bath that I built after adopting the proposal of the Maculag Council, integrating bathing, entertainment, public events and sporting events, although it has not yet been flooded and officially used, but it is still completely sufficient as a temporary place for us to rest and chat."

"This is the ...... of the hall of Maximes"

"This is the Maximilles Baths......"

"This is the ...... of the Correction Temple"

"This is the ...... of the United Baths of the Temple"

"This is Trajan's Square ......"

"This is the Monumental Baths of Trajan's Square......"

"This is a marble bath built in honor of the memorial baths of Trajan's Square......"

"Here ......"

——

……

Well.

Rome.

It's too roman.

(End of chapter)