"These family crests…"
Andrada bowed his head, carefully scrutinizing the collected family emblems, sensing something amiss.
Among these emblems were some from lesser-known families of the Spire. Even if the noble guards and Spire guards were filled with noble offspring, it was strange for obscure families with few members to be pressed into service.
He voiced his doubts to Grey, holding up a brass crest adorned with wild grass. "This is the Andor family's emblem. The archives show their entire population is only thirty. Their only youth is a young woman, and they remain in the Spire solely due to their ancient lineage… Yet even such a family is sending members to the guard."
Grey raised an eyebrow, glancing at the crest. "Perhaps a gesture of loyalty—no matter how small, each family must contribute to the guard. And the guards are led by Gene-Thief officers. Not joining would likely mean forfeiting the governor's trust."
"Then how many clean families are even left in the Spire…" Andrada murmured in exasperation, his bio-processor calculating a ninety-five percent probability that the Spire was filled with traitor families. The remaining five percent margin was solely for human diversity.
"Doesn't matter. Let's go capture the governor." Grey turned and strode toward the Spire's shelter.
Overhead, the warships continued their relentless bombardment, targeting families identified by their crests in the database. Ten minutes of walking yielded no sight of an intact manor, reinforcing the grim probability that most of the Spire was indeed treacherous.
Andrada continued analyzing the books he had previously scanned from the archives. One, which he had already reviewed, recorded an exodus of Spire nobles. Seven years prior, many nobles had started migrating to the Upper Hive, with other entries noting tensions between the Upper Hive and the Spire. While certain events still united them—such as the parade welcoming Andrada—the Upper Hive had raised its own guard.
Back then, he hadn't understood the reason behind the Spire noble exodus. Now, it was clear: the Spire's aristocrats likely suspected the governor's alignment. Those unwilling to consort with Gene-Thieves had fled to the Upper Hive, though they lacked the courage to confront the governor's faction.
This indirect evidence painted a bleak picture of the Spire's integrity.
After three kilometers, Grey's power armor detected a large number of lifeforms nearby. As they advanced, they spotted a castle a kilometer ahead. Assuming the governor had taken refuge in the well-defended fortress, they decided to attack.
"Prepare a targeted bombardment," Grey ordered, activating the orbital targeting system, encircling the castle in a red outline within his display. "Minimize energy output; we don't want to destroy the underground bunkers beneath. The governor may be hiding there, and we need his memories."
"Understood."
Aboard the warship, the crew adjusted the particle lance's power output, calculating the blast radius at the current settings. This process took at least ten seconds. The four soldiers stood in the ruins, waiting silently.
The castle's guards, oblivious to them, maintained their watch on the walls and within gun emplacements. Suddenly, the main gates opened, and two slaves pushed a cart outside, throwing noble guard corpses onto the ground and dousing them in gasoline before setting them ablaze.
"Abort the bombardment!" Grey ordered hastily.
The crew had already pressed the fire control, redirecting the blast to a desolate area of the planet's wastelands.
The two slaves, drawn by the flash of light, turned their heads toward the explosion's glow. Ten seconds later, the roar reached their ears.
"They don't seem to be our enemies," Chen Ye remarked, gesturing toward the castle.
Grey instructed the ship to transmit an aerial image of the castle, which revealed bodies strewn throughout its grounds, some clad in planetary defense uniforms, others dressed as noble guards. Confident that they were not foes, Grey leaped into the air, jetpack carrying him over the castle wall. The others waited, until two minutes later, Grey emerged, accompanied by an elderly man.
The old man wore the ornate garb of a planetary defense marshal, though his uniform and boots bore mended patches.
"Come over," Grey called out. "This… this marshal knows where the governor is."
Yaoren and Andrada joined Chen Ye in approaching.
The old marshal carried himself with dignity, leaning on a cane shaped like a longsword. Though his gait was uneven, his demeanor exuded authority.
"Report, Marshal!" A young man ran over, saluting the marshal. "The armored units and infantry have assembled. We're ready to reclaim the Spire at your command!"
"I am aware. Go back to your duties."
"Yes, Father!"
"…Ahem, I mean, yes, Marshal!"
The young man hastily corrected himself, hurrying away.
Grey and his team exchanged curious glances at the scene.
In total, the castle's soldiers numbered around two thousand. The so-called armored unit comprised three centaur transports, one of which was being battered by its driver in a desperate attempt to get it running. The scene revealed that this 'planetary defense marshal' was little more than a remnant, his forces scattered and depleted.
Grey wasted no time probing further and asked directly, "Where is the governor?"
"You're too few," the marshal replied sternly. "You need reinforcements. The great folly of war is lack of preparation. We're not simply repelling the governor; we must capture him and his minions completely. We must be thorough!"
"Stubborn old fool," Grey muttered under his breath.
The marshal continued organizing his forces. His two thousand infantry and two functioning transport vehicles readied themselves, while a squad of maids came running over.
"Marshal, the logistics team is assembled!"
"Good. Follow behind the troops!"
"Yes, sir!"
Chen Ye watched the scene in silence, feeling as if he was witnessing a farce.
The young officer who had earlier called the marshal 'Father' approached Chen Ye, presenting a tome inscribed with the White Scars' combat records. "Sir, may I request your signature?"
Chen Ye took the feathered pen, signing his name as he asked, "What's the deal with your father?"
"Hmph, some 'marshal' and 'planetary defense force,'" the young officer scoffed, lowering his voice. "It's just a grand play staged by a bunch of family guards and slaves, all to indulge the delusions of a dismissed, former marshal."