Today's fortress is overcast, and those clouds are not weather in the physical sense, but volatilization and evaporation caused by bombing, forming black and oppressive dark clouds, suspended in the artificial sky of the asteroid fortress, and blocking all the few heats, and it is also the first seasonal change in thousands of years, and the first cold winter.

People timidly looked out of the small observation window of the bomb shelter, and at the same time feared that the cannon would fall again, and also saw those strange, white elves slowly landing, covering the scattered corpses of the dead, or the wreckage of a messy building, covering them with a thick quilt, as the emperor's best gift to the dead, but also a test for the living.

What is that? This thought crossed the minds of most people who had never left this place in their lives, and many thought that it was poison sprinkled by heretics, and that the cold did make people's skin fester, and they didn't know that it was called frost wounds, because they had never seen a cold winter, and they had only seen living people starved to death, beaten to death, or died of exhaustion, or died of disease, or shot to death, lost blood... There are too many of them, but I have never seen this.

The fear of ignorance spreads like a disease, and they do not even know how to hurry up and dress more, and now ignorance is poison, and a little bit of wisdom or a religious person or a clerk or a little conscience will be "generous" and "kind" to tell them to wear more things, to wear anything, to carry things in front of them, to use everything, to eat more food, and to be hot.

But this kind of kindness is not a kind of "minced meat", when the nobleman uses the throne coins to hire people to look after his wine cellar and the furniture he brings in during war, this place that should be reserved for the living becomes his safe haven, and he has to dispel the poor ghosts and the lower class people who look like they are conspicuous.

Priests or scholars prefer to hold together, those who have knowledge have better value and better associations, they can communicate with the officers, they can communicate with the "thousands of stars" under the lord's command who govern the place and everything, but only the toiling worker, the woman who washes the laundry, or the penniless loses everything again.

Another death was staged in a place witnessed by the emperor, which was a man-made apocalypse, but what is even more tragic is that such a situation is not an exception at the end of the forty thousand years of human civilization, to be precise, this place that is incomparably small for the empire alone, has been staged hundreds of times in a few light years.

And the official responsible for this matter is only in his own underground warm cabin, wearing thick faux fur, and has a pipe that burns without a puff and inhales and spits on his own smoke rings, and all his sources of power and stable family background are trusted.

The lord entrusted him, recorded his blood with the contemplative array, and the door of the treasury could only be opened by his and the lord's heartbeat, and at this time, it was too normal to use the public for personal gain.

Again he chased away the hungry refugees who had heard the "friendly advice" of the nobles to collect their clothes, like fleas, and in this way he had for the first time tasted the exaltation of the names of others, who had no oil and water, but the lords and nobles were apparently not among them.

Throne Coins, Throne Coins, glittering gold, spinning, on the table, spinning non-stop, with the emperor on the front and the king in the back, dazzling and forgetful, its holder will also be bewitched into thinking that he is the lord, or, the emperor.

He swallowed the clouds and had many thoughts, and he had thought of ending the war, taking the money and flying away, buying a villa, becoming a man who overlooked everyone, on the top of the nest, and abandoning all his pretended piety and loyalty, and repaying his master with betrayal.

Until the cry of a lord's servant interrupted his thoughts, the tall, thin messenger called. "Good day, my lord, the same as before, three throne coins, thirty catties of grain, three catties of meat, no shoddy, my master is in the planetary guard, and he is a major in pdf!"

Sold almost cheaply, the price is much more than when there is the most abundant food in normal times, but human favor is also the key to his wings, how, whether to be a caged bird or soaring, it all depends on his choice, he is naturally diligent, swept lazy, and put his palm into the skull scanner in front of the adamantite door with his sleeve.

Dripping, short, confirmed, and then there are the piston gears, turning mysteriously, the soul making sounds, the endless treasure trove of food slowly opening, or fur clothes, or mountains of grain, or even frozen fresh, frozen good meat, just a little cooking, can fill the stomach.

Sorted and stored in turn, the servants of the lord's house went into it, tightened their collars for the shade, and stole the food little by little like ants or moths, and filled the exterior with those that were not easy to find in the middle, and still full of fruit.

They rode along, taking food and exchanging coins, only for the caretaker to make sure the amount, but stopped at the closing time, for at some point a glass bottle filled with liquid was placed on the path, which had to be empty for ease of access, with an envelope pressed underneath.

Who did it? He was not clean, and he was timid to pick it up, just because such a strange thing must not be left in the warehouse, he went back to his room, took out his monocular glasses, inlaid with gold wire, so that it was not gorgeous, and opened the bottle again, lowered his head and smelled it boldly.

"Drinks?" His old memories gradually awakened, and he often tasted this when he was working hard as a subordinate, and was gifted by his master, a rare and unique blend of wine belonging to the successful, commonly known as wild snake wine, which usually had a whole poisonous snake soaked in it, but this bottle was not, and it was clear and transparent, but he still did not drink it, but used his fingers, which suddenly gained a lot of weight during this period, to open the folded pieces of paper under the wine bottle.

The neat text on it reads. [Dear Dispenser, Monsieur Almiron, Good Day, I am your loyal servant, I have no name, I can only use this wine as a substitute, it is not poisonous, but even if there are no poisonous snakes in it, I still maintain 80% of the bitter flavor of the venom, but it is difficult to say that it can be called the original name, I think it is a new bottle of wine, and it retains the old flavor, just like you do with the warehouse.] 】

The officer's fingers trembled slightly, he looked left and right, took off his glasses, took another long breath, and looked at the unmanned ceiling for a long time before bowing his head again.

[But I don't have a problem with your distribution, but I think the current residents need clothes, otherwise the subsequent reconstruction work will be difficult, and it is better to have some meat or grain.

And I understand that you feel that there is no hope in this place, but I beg you, wait, not to give that food to the gluttonous, but to the hungry, and one will repay you for your deeds, and at the same time, as most people understand the Emperor's teachings, the reward is abundant, and the punishment for betrayal is also the same.

Love you, faithful servant stays. 】

The dispenser took his glasses with trembling fingers, he put down the letter slowly, and looked at the bottle of wine, his fate was not in his hands, it felt like he had experienced most of his life, and now he realized that this matter was still ongoing, he picked up the wine glass in his room, put the piece of paper in the glass, poured the bottle of clear and clear spirits, waited for the wine to moisten the whole piece of paper, and then swallowed the date in one gulp.

He didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, sweat covered his cheeks, he covered his face in thought, as if to relieve the feeling of strong alcohol, or fear, and when he woke up again, a group of hungry refugees knelt down in front of his door.

"Apostle of the God Emperor, please give us a little food to get through the toxins of heresy, and behold, my child is sick!" The woman ripped open her child's thigh, the frost wound into a naked scar and ruined skin, while the group still wore the short sleeves of the linen they had been working on.

At this moment, the middle-aged official who drank the bottle of wine was like a different person, he said kindly. "Oh my God, this is called frost wound, quickly, come into my room, there is some hot water on the table, warm, wet it with a cloth and then cover it, remember to wipe it dry when you go out, absolutely dry, and there are people who can move, follow me to get some clothes and food, and, don't be afraid, the one outside is called snow, it is a natural phenomenon." He beckoned people in, and the refugees thanked him as if they were grateful to the emperor.

And in the shadows, there was a man dressed as a noble servant, tossing a throne coin, which swirled in mid-air, and finally landed on the palm of his hand, and he opened his hand and muttered to himself. "One side is the emperor, the other is the king, one side is merciful, the other side is punished."

I saw a gold coin inlaid with the emperor's head in the palm of his rough palm, and then he held the money and walked towards the darkness, which is also one of the greatest help that the rats in the secret can give to this fortress, and sometimes the fateful place is not only war and sacrifice, but also murder and trial.

At the same time, a letter was layered and tossed and turned, passing through the hands of the informed, the ignorant, the stupid, the shrewd, and the lord's palace was impregnable and dashing.

As it turned out, the organization had been working in this area for longer than most people thought, and if it had been really studied, this huge group of acolytes would have survived in peace had it not been for the sins that the Grand Inquisitor had committed.

Its leader could have entered the ranks of the people holding the rose knot, representing the holy flame, becoming a human being, commanding the Imperial army, learning psionic mysteries, and touching the true mysteries, but now, no matter how powerful he is, he is only a pawn of the criminal, destined to die and a dog.

This cruel human civilization for 40,000 years, the difference between the weak and the strong is only one word, the difference between one life, or even just luck, those who have luck can fall from the sky and seize all the people who originally worked hard, and the fate is not good, and those who are not favored by the emperor need to do their best just to live, but the snake is not disgusted with this world.

Now the cold wind does not stop, the dark clouds fall on the white elves, the thick snow covers the streets like a quilt, corpses, remains, some people get carried away because of this, some people are crushed by the cold wind, life is worse than death, some people enjoy the fire, the blood is noble, this narrow place has also become a shrunken, miniature Engili free roaming port in space.

And the whole Engili and the huge fortress group to which it belongs is not a miniature human empire, loyalists, traitors, opportunists, warriors, and thousands of styles of human civilization can only be compressed in such a small place, and then fiercely, constantly crashing.

Therefore, he knew many intrigues and evil ways, and therefore understood even more that if he and other mortals wanted to live out their old age in peace, they must cling to the roots of the giant tree, under the dark clouds.

In the corrupt and dilapidated wooden house, this place was not favored by the bombing because of its remoteness, and in this dark and damp place, Mr. Snake Field, who looks like a rat, has sorted out his clothes, a set of Imperial standard punishment uniforms, and a low-quality bulletproof armor, and those who wear this clothes are either imprisoned or punished by the Punishment Legion, the notorious Astral Army Criminal Legion, the final destination of the prisoners.

He jokingly told the other brothers who were drinking and smoking in the cabin. "How, does this fit?"

The others looked at it, and then fell silent, because everyone here wore this outfit perfectly.

Later, after Lord Magron's prayer was over, the pious man, who had eaten only two slices of bread, a glass of water, and a small amount of vitamin medicine, saw a bottle of wine in front of his bedroom, which was crystal clear, and he thought, perhaps it was something left behind by the unbeliever, only to find something pressed underneath.

He ignored the drink and opened the letter, the words on it were clear, but it made the lord break out in a cold sweat.

[Dear Lord of Margroon, I say that I am your loyal servant, sorry that I cannot be promoted at this moment, but because we are all loyal to a great soldier, although it is a temporary partner, I still need to be responsible for you, my loyal and lovely colleague, my name is like that bottle of wine, but a noble person like you probably does not know its name, so call me Wild Snake. 】

[I shouldn't have risked sending the letter with such fanfare, so please destroy it after reading it, and I left the letter for only two reasons, one for war, and the other for the future. 】

[First, remember, Sir Victor is planning a betrayal, the source of his power is not faith, but money, your team of loyalists cannot take care of all aspects of tens of thousands of imperial subjects, such as the Dark Harbor, it can still be logged in, and most of the outlaw fanatics are easy to buy, you are a smart man, I don't need to say anything, remember, a void whale is waiting in your airspace, its flanks are countless rotting bugs and flies, waiting to devour you alive. 】

[Second, I don't know what our master is doing, but I know what diseases are in your territory, we are not pesticides, but we can also physically kill them, although we spend a lot of energy for this, but we still work hard for you, so please erase or skip the matter of the person who died unexpectedly during this time, and secondly, please put about 3,000 Throne Coins into the fountain in the garden on the right side of your dormitory tomorrow, that is, the standard Terra Day of the Imperial calendar, on 7.30, wrapped in a black package. 】

[At this point, good luck, and this is not blackmail, we are all earning, if you don't want your garrison to be hollowed out, please spend your money, after all, my friends are not the tireless iron men of legend.

——— love you, faithful servant stays. 】

(End of chapter)