"Improve our conditions! Improve our conditions!"
"No workers, no Kalliston!"
"Fulgrim, you have betrayed us!"
Looking out through the glass window, he saw dozens of people suddenly surge at the manor's entrance, shouting slogans and engaging in a fierce physical clash with the patrol team maintaining order.
In the not-so-rich historical records of Kalliston Fortress, there were many accounts of similar worker protests.
A decade or so ago, before Fulgrim had risen to prominence, the entire fortress was on the brink of riot.
For the workers, if they had to work more than twenty hours a day in despair...
...it would be a relief for everyone to just die together.
However, since Fulgrim became an engineer and improved the production machinery, greatly bettering the workers' environment, the situation had improved.
With hope in their lives and motivation for their work, people were naturally willing to rally around Fulgrim.
Consequently, the protests had gradually decreased and disappeared.
Logically, no one should be causing trouble at the engagement ceremony of the workers' savior, Fulgrim.
And that was indeed the case.
"I have never seen them in the factories."
Fulgrim's expression was grave as she leaned close to Kasjia's ear and whispered.
"Those protestors... they are not workers."
"Their expressions and movements are deliberate and exaggerated, more like they are putting on a play with the patrol team."
Her Primarch-level vision and logic allowed her to quickly grasp the essential information.
Although they were pushing and shoving, a lack of attention to detail exposed their true purpose—
To ruin this carefully prepared engagement ceremony.
As for the person who would carry out such a malicious plan, it was self-evident.
"Looks like the handiwork of my dear brother, Herod Sherlock," Kasjia replied in a low voice.
"Their methods are truly despicable."
"I reckon it won't be long before the riot escalates, and then the patrol will deliberately be a step slow, letting these thugs, under the guise of workers, smash, loot, and kill."
"We need to get out of here."
"You go and inform the others to evacuate first. If the situation worsens, we'll break out."
"Alright."
It was an overt scheme.
This was a purely overt scheme.
Kasjia's brow furrowed even deeper.
Herod Sherlock knew Fulgrim's standing among the workers, and he also knew of her terrifying strength, capable of forging alloys with her bare hands.
If he dared to protest at the engagement ceremony, he would undoubtedly be thrown out of the venue like trash by Fulgrim.
Kasjia and Fulgrim were a perfect match of talent and beauty; where did a monster like him get the right to object?
But if he used incitement to stir up conflict, Kasjia and Fulgrim had no good countermeasures.
Building trust is not easy, but destroying it is incredibly simple.
Fulgrim's reputation came from the support of the workers.
By causing chaos in the name of the workers, he could successfully hamstring this legendary goddess.
If she were to act against the "workers," it would be an admission to the accusation of abandoning them, turning her into a "butcher" in the eyes of the public.
If she didn't act to control the rioters and bloodshed occurred, Fulgrim's credibility among the nobles would plummet.
A dilemma.
In the end, the best response for Kasjia was avoidance.
Leave early, and later find evidence of the thugs colluding with Herod and other nobles.
But no matter what, the other party could disrupt the engagement ceremony under the pretext of suppressing a riot.
And perhaps, he was after much more.
Thinking of this, Kasjia couldn't help but glance at the bewildered old Sherlock patriarch nearby.
CRACK!
Even though the many guests tried their best to ignore the commotion outside, the increasingly loud shouts and clashes were like a fire that could not be wrapped in paper.
ZAP!
Several crackling sounds and screams, accompanied by several rapid flashes of bright light, erupted outside the venue in an instant.
Shots were fired.
It was the sound of lasguns.
The patrol team seemed to have greatly underestimated the rioters' methods. As sharp blades flashed, the patrol team very tactfully dodged aside, clearing a path for the rioters storming the scene.
"Why are you selling your lives for those noble masters! Fulgrim, why!"
"The nobility cannot be trusted!"
"Lackeys, lackeys! All of you are the nobles' lackeys!"
"Brothers, kill these nobles, and we'll rule Kalliston ourselves!"
Shouting, the red-masked leader of the riot kicked open the main hall's doors and looked at the trembling guests around him.
Among these people, the legendary goddess was not present.
She seemed to have already left the place.
Not here?
The riot leader breathed a sigh of relief.
Luckily she wasn't here, otherwise they would have become the sacrificial "lambs" the prophet had spoken of.
However, their target was not just Fulgrim.
His gaze shifted to the side, to the old Sherlock patriarch cowering and trembling.
A grin suddenly stretched to the corners of his mouth.
"Hey, old man."
"Time to hit the road."
A red light burst from the weapon in his hand.
ZAP!
Blood blossomed.
"Quick! Protect the attending guests, we must not let them be harmed by the rioters!"
The patrol team with proper military equipment did not seem to appear at the venue immediately.
Herod Sherlock, who arrived a step late to command the search and rescue, was now acting extremely anxious.
"What happened! How could the patrol team be so negligent!"
Looking at the ravaged manor, he appeared extremely vexed.
"Damn it!"
"I told you, believing these workers wouldn't cause trouble is just a fool's dream!"
"Report!"
An inspector appeared at his side at the right moment.
"The dozen or so worker rioters have all escaped. We found traces of a secret passage they used to retreat nearby."
"...Fulgrim."
"It must be Fulgrim!"
"She is the fortress's engineering designer, she must have revealed the secret passage to those thugs!"
Herod gritted his teeth.
"Also..."
The inspector lowered his voice slightly.
"We found the body of Gentleman Sherlock at the venue."
"What did you say!!"
Herod's voice instantly rose an octave, drawing the gazes of the surrounding guests towards him.
"Damn that lowlife!"
"How dare she condone thugs to commit violence and kill my father!!!"
"Where is she now?"
"According to surviving guests, she and Kasjia quietly left the venue before the riot began, which further confirms the possibility that they planned this incident."
"Good, good..."
Herod laughed in his fury.
"Notify the patrol team! In my capacity as the new head of the Sherlock family, I order an immediate search to find the whereabouts of the criminals Fulgrim and Kasjia!"
Outside the Kalliston Fortress.
The raging storm had subsided for a moment. The iron fortress of Kalliston remained embedded in the mountainside, resting silently.
How long had it been here?
Ten years, a hundred? Or a thousand?
No one knew but the yellow sand.
The world was empty, save for a man and a woman walking in the wasteland outside the city.
"It's a pity. The old patriarch trusted his son too much and was unwilling to leave with us."
Perhaps, even at the very end, he wouldn't have believed that he would die at the hands of his most beloved eldest son.
"I guess by now, we're both wanted criminals."
Kasjia gave a bitter smile, looking up in silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Fulgrim."
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry. I ruined your plan to take control of Kalliston. I made it less than perfect."
"Less than perfect?"
Fulgrim smiled.
Under the eternal twilight of Chemos, her smile was exceptionally brilliant.
"Perhaps. But clearly, some things are more important than perfection."
Stepping onto the boundless desert, Fulgrim was filled with curiosity.
The timeline had changed.
But perhaps this wasn't a bad thing.
The engineer of Chemos was finally liberated from the bloated and corrupt vanity of the nobility.
Like a child touching the world for the first time, like a prisoner who has broken old shackles, she tried for the first time to feel this world she had never tried to understand before.
Imperfect, but filled with a thrill.
A thrill from the depths of her heart.
"And what about you, Kasjia?"
Fulgrim asked in return.
"Are you sad about losing your noble status?"
"I was never worried about that."
After a moment's thought, Kasjia shook his head.
"What I fear more is that one day, we would really become like those hidebound nobles, staying in a place called Kalliston, closing ourselves off, and ignoring everything about the outside world."
"Forever immersed in the illusory glory of the past, not daring to face the pain of reality; cursing and envying friends who are still forging ahead in misery, and calling this perfection."
As he spoke, Kasjia looked behind him.
The iron fortress with its tightly shut gates still stood there, silently facing the yellow sand, the setting sun, and their gaze.
"How pathetic. I refuse to live like that."
"Perhaps, Fulgrim."
"Perhaps."
Like the man and woman who walked out of Eden, lost yet full of hope.
The two looked at each other and smiled.
-------
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