Luna said nothing. She stood there, her expression shifting between uncertainty and irritation. She knew Raynor was telling the truth. Having spent years as a technical officer and reading countless files on Orks, she was well aware of the nature of the "WAAAGH! Field." Raynor's experience was indeed something she could not match.
However, she was unwilling to give up this opportunity easily. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke again. Her tone had softened slightly, but it still carried a trace of stubbornness.
"How about this: I will be the Crusade Marshal, and you will be the Great General, responsible for executing the operational plans." She looked at Raynor, squeezing out a small smile.
Raynor: "..."
The entire hall fell silent for a second. The expressions on the faces of the nobles on Luna's side were quite a sight. Some lowered their heads, pretending they hadn't heard. Others frowned, looking as if they wanted to say something but held back. They stole glances at Raynor's face, wondering if this Governor would flip the table on the spot.
Not only did she want to be Marshal, but she also wanted Raynor to do all the hard work for her? And the lion's share of the glory would still go to her? This was simply... shameless.
Raynor was somewhat speechless, then let out a helpless laugh. He was indeed a bit envious of the resources Luna had mentioned earlier. So much equipment and manpower could increase the chances of victory in the Crusade by at least thirty percent. However, her level of stupidity exceeded his imagination. What did Tzeentch see in her?
Furthermore, he would never give up the position of Marshal. Thus, Raynor patiently continued to negotiate with Luna. The two debated for a while longer on whether experience and glory were more important than resources and raw strength. Luna insisted that her resources, equipment, and the support of the Mechanicus were the fundamental guarantees of victory. Raynor countered that his experience and track record—his unique insights into dealing with Orks—were the true keys to success. Neither could convince the other.
Finally, Raynor let out a sigh.
"Since Regent Luna has such confidence," he said, "why don't we decide who becomes Marshal through a fair competition?"
Luna's eyes lit up. "What kind of competition?"
Raynor walked to the wall and pulled up the holographic star map. The screen displayed Brevis, Dorido, and a point of light between the two—Karl II. He pointed at the space station.
"To launch a Crusade against Dorido, we must take this place first, no matter what. This is an Ork outpost and the perfect choice for our jumping-off point." He looked at Luna. "How about we see who can take Karl II first?"
Raynor continued, "Whoever wins becomes the Marshal. The loser must willingly assist the other in completing the Crusade."
Luna replied without a second thought, "Deal!" A smile of certain victory appeared on her face. A small place like Karl II would be easy to seize with her superior equipment and the Mechanicus army.
Raynor nodded with a smile. On the surface, he was poised and every bit the gentleman. Internally, he had already begun to laugh darkly. Luna had walked right into his trap.
Raynor had long ago summarized a key insight: when competing with someone for the same goal, rather than working hard to reach the goal, it was better to deal with the opponent first. Commonly known as an "off-board move."
If he were competing with a normal person, like Leo or Caladog, he might engage in fair competition out of a sense of humanitarianism. But against a Tzeentch sorceress who had tried to kill him, there was nothing to discuss. Although he couldn't kill Luna directly right now—as that would trigger a civil war and plunge all of Brevis into chaos—he could certainly trip her up.
He waited for Luna to finish her fantasies before suddenly speaking. "By the way, Lady Luna."
Luna looked at him, the smile not yet faded from her face.
"I don't believe I have officially recognized you as the Regent yet, have I?"
Luna was stunned. Raynor had been addressing her as "Regent Luna" this entire time! Now he was suddenly changing his tune?
"What do you mean?" Her voice carried a hint of wariness.
Raynor didn't answer. He simply raised his hand and clapped. Clap, clap, clap. Three crisp sounds rang out clearly in the silent hall.
The doors to the meeting room opened. Three people walked in.
At the front was Leo Saint Gallus, the direct descendant of High King Caladog and the Great General of the Vanguard. He wore the Vanguard General's uniform—the deep blue military attire was crisp, and the rank insignia on his epaulettes was polished to a shine. His chest was covered in medals—from the Forbidden Wall campaign and the ice field purges—all honors personally awarded to him by Raynor. Every medal sparkled under the lights. His gaze was resolute, his steps steady, and every stride carried an aura of power. He was a completely different person from the blood-stained, destitute figure locked in a cell just days ago.
Following behind him were two others. Guss, the adjutant of the Governor's Mansion, wore a refined suit and a professional smile. Some nobles instinctively shivered upon seeing him. Bishop Anthony Douglas, the head of the Ecclesiarchy in the Mid-Hive, wore white priestly robes and held a holy scripture, his expression solemn and grave.
Leo walked to the center of the hall and stood still. He didn't speak. He just looked at Luna. In those eyes, it was as calm as a bottomless pool of icy water. But the underlying anger and hatred could not be hidden.
Luna's face instantly darkened.
"Traitor!" "How is he still alive?!" "Didn't they say he turned to Chaos?!"
The nobles on Luna's side instantly erupted into a commotion. Some even stood up and pointed at Leo, cursing him in voices as shrill as pigs being slaughtered. The more cowardly ones turned pale and instinctively backed away, nearly knocking over their chairs. Most, however, exchanged glances, their eyes full of terror and confusion. Hadn't it been said that Leo was being hunted by the family and had died on the ice fields?
Leo stood there, letting them curse him. He said nothing.
Raynor stood to the side, watching this scene with the corners of his mouth turned up. He had strictly controlled the information regarding Guss and Anthony going to the Forbidden Wall to prove Leo's innocence. In the entire Hive, the only ones who knew were Raynor and Goodwin. Even Carter was in the dark. Now that Raynor had released the news, the effect was immediate.
Luna also understood very clearly what Leo's appearance signified. Historically, the heads of House Saint Gallus had always passed the title to male heirs. This was tradition and rule—an iron law written in the family code and etched into the bones of every generation of Saint Gallus.
Even if she sat in the Regent's seat now with the support of the Mechanicus behind her, as long as Leo was alive and proven innocent, his possibility of inheriting the title of High King would always be greater than hers. Furthermore, Leo was no ordinary "male heir." He was a hero who had truly fought his way out of the Forbidden Wall. The Forbidden Wall campaign, the ice field purges—those medals and military achievements were real.
Moreover, he was the candidate personally designated by Caladog; the family's veteran officials had long since formed psychological expectations for him. None of this was something she could match.
The nobles who had originally supported her began to waver the moment they saw Leo. Private army generals were stealing glances at Luna with complex expressions. A Paladin who had just pledged allegiance to Luna lowered his head to calculate something, his hands crossed on the table as his thumbs instinctively rotated. Some retainers had already started whispering to those beside them in low voices. But the occasional glances that drifted her way made Luna feel as if she were sitting on needles.