To be fair, the fact that Shavok would one day become the infamous "Scarred Count" really did say something about his ability. With just a few simple lines, he managed to shift the heart of the conflict directly onto Bruce.
Because no matter how one framed it, letting the Dark Angels interfere in the Night Lords' internal affairs was undeniably disgraceful.
And worse, whether Bruce agreed or refused, Shavok could still make him suffer for it.
If Bruce agreed, then all those who had supported him up to this point would instantly look like fools. Some of the neutral faction would probably start entertaining dreams of setting themselves up independently. If that happened, the Night Lords—who had only just barely stabilized—might face an even worse crisis.
If Bruce refused, then Shavok would have a ready-made excuse to recruit more people, wave the banner of "Bruce has already sold himself to the Dark Angels and is unfit to serve as acting commander," and ignite an unprecedented rebellion. At the very least, he would have won the moral argument.
For an ordinary person, that kind of trap might really have been impossible to escape.
Unfortunately for Shavok, Bruce had already thought through all of this in advance.
"So what you're saying is that you want to reconcile with me, Shavok?"
Bruce suddenly turned serious, so abruptly that it felt as though he had become a different person.
Then, in a tone of direct challenge, he added,
"You don't actually think this is some internal power struggle within the Legion, do you?"
"What exactly are you implying?" Shavok demanded with a grim expression.
"The meaning is obvious. Your conflict with the Night Lords is not a contest over power."
Bruce's gaze sharpened.
"You broke the law, and you don't even realize it?"
Then, one word at a time, he pronounced the accusation:
"Shavok. You secretly colluded with xenos forces, sheltered illegal abhumans, trafficked arms, and skimmed the tithes meant for Holy Terra. Any one of those crimes would be enough to have you lined up against a wall and shot a hundred times over!"
Sorry.
At this point, I'm the one standing on the moral high ground.
"?!"
The members of the Night Haunter Council were instantly thrown into chaos. It didn't matter which faction they belonged to—every last one of them stared at their suddenly deranged acting commander in alarm.
What the hell?
Could you really say something like that out loud?
And here, of all places?
But the real problem was that inside the Legion, who the hell was actually clean? Even Sevatar had done some of those things.
Then, very quickly, the sharper minds caught on.
The acting commander couldn't be planning to…
pin all the Legion's problems onto one man and then pretend the rest never happened?
If that was the case, then perhaps swearing loyalty to the acting commander really was the right move.
At least until the Dark Angels left.
"Acting Commander," said Shavok, watching Bruce's outburst with perfect calm, "are you really going to expose the Night Lords Legion's internal problems so openly?"
He simply stated the facts.
"If not for the crimes you listed, our Legion would have run out of supplies long ago and been forced to halt the progress of the Great Crusade. At that point, we would have become a disgrace, and the Primarch would have been punished by the Emperor."
"Is that what you want to see?"
"Must something be right simply because it has always been done that way?" Bruce shot back.
"Hahahaha!"
Shavok couldn't help laughing.
"This isn't some political game, Bruce Wayne."
"I almost wish you really were some noble idealist. Or maybe you simply haven't touched the true core of the problem yet."
Then he asked a single question:
"When the taxes we pay vastly exceed what our territory can actually produce, tell me—how are we supposed to keep our loyal citizens alive? And without those citizens, how is the Legion supposed to maintain its combat strength?"
Heavy taxation. Poor land. Sparse population. Dangerous territory.
Any one of those debuffs would be enough to crush a power bloc—but the Night Lords had all four at once.
That was why the Night Lords skimmed taxes, colluded in secret with xenos and abhumans, and even tolerated things that clearly violated Imperial Truth within their controlled territories. It wasn't because they were noble.
It was because they had no better option.
When people can't even afford to eat, who still has the luxury to talk about ideals?
And it was precisely because Curze had seen all of that, and been powerless to change it, that she had gone mad in the original timeline. He had always believed criminals must be punished—but what if the root cause of all those crimes was the Imperium itself? Or even the Emperor?
That was why Curze had spiraled into extremism in his madness, until at last he concluded that the whole world was simply rotten.
"I'll solve the problems you're talking about," Bruce said, seizing the moment to make a promise to everyone present. "You don't need to worry about that. I may not be able to guarantee every last person a perfect and happy life, but I can make sure most people won't go hungry."
As for how he was going to accomplish that…
Well, that part was actually simple.
Bruce had long since gotten a miracle tool from Blue Fatty: the Duplication Liquid, an item that could replicate food endlessly.
With that in hand, in theory, even if the Tyranids showed up at the door, Bruce could probably raise them like pet dogs.
"If that's your grand ideal, then how very noble of you, Acting Commander," Shavok snorted disdainfully.
"Enough nonsense. Confess everything you need to confess. As for how I govern the Legion and where I guide it, that is my business—and the right entrusted to me by the Primarch."
Bruce made it plain.
"You'd do better to start worrying about your own situation."
Without Blue Fatty, Bruce really would have had to spend a long time figuring out how to turn the Night Lords into a Legion that Curze could actually respect—instead of the current rabble of criminals and opportunists.
But precisely because Blue Fatty existed as a cheat-level ally, the difficulty dropped dramatically.
"…"
For the first time, Shavok felt his confidence waver.
The Dark Angels were hanging over his head like a sword of Damocles. He had no chance of winning, especially since Bruce held the official command authority of the Night Lords.
Bruce was the one the Primarch had chosen.
Which meant, in practice, Shavok was facing two enemies at once.
What?
I'm supposed to fight the combined forces of the Dark Angels and the Night Lords now?
Seriously?
"Shavok, Captain Sevatar once told me that even if you lack merit, you at least have endured hardship. To be honest, I was originally planning to raise this matter high… and let it fall lightly."
Bruce shifted into carrot-and-stick mode.
"As long as you confess properly and surrender your arms, I can guarantee your safety. After all, Remilia still carries some influence with the Dark Angels."
"If she personally speaks on your behalf, I believe Lord Lion will spare your life."
Bruce tried to use a mix of pressure and mercy to force Shavok to see reality. At this point, what was the point of continuing to bluster stubbornly?
Surrender now, and I can at least give you a clean end.
Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to put you down like a mad dog.
"Beg for mercy? From that abhuman little girl? Hahahahaha!"
Shavok burst into laughter.
"The kind of pleading you mean—is it supposed to involve some pathetic little display in front of a Primarch?"
Crack.
The sound of Sevatar's clenched fist was sharp and unmistakable.
"Shavok! You dare insult the Primarch's child?!" Malcharion shouted furiously.
"Hah! Her child? Just because Bruce Wayne says she is, that makes it true? You lot really are fools."
"That thing is short, strange-looking, and visibly carries abhuman traits. Tell me, does a creature like that really look like the child of the Night Haunter?"
"You people… really…"
He shook his head over and over, as though he were the only sane man in a sea of lunatics.
"In my eyes, you're just a pack of warped idiots with filthy tastes. Every one of you belongs in hell!"
Then—
"What… did… you… just… say?"
A voice full of incandescent fury suddenly cut into the Night Haunter Council.
"Oh, hell—my lady, why aren't you wearing any pants?!"
When Bruce turned around and saw what had just charged in behind him, the sky may as well have collapsed.
He had spent so much effort building up the atmosphere, and now she came storming in half-dressed, ruining the whole effect.
"Lady Remilia, please be mindful of your dignified image…" Even Sevatar looked pained.
The two of them immediately rushed over to the furious Curze and started dressing her again. From how practiced their teamwork was, this was clearly not the first time something like this had happened.
"What was I supposed to do?" Curze snapped angrily. "That stupid dress just keeps getting in the way and getting wet!"
Thinking about it only made her angrier.
Then she turned back toward the much taller Shavok and demanded:
"You dare show me disrespect? Have you decided how you want to die?"
"…"
Shavok lowered his head, looked at the tiny figure with no visible threat whatsoever, and failed to hold back a laugh.
"I don't know how you pulled it off—somehow convincing the Dark Angels to help Bruce Wayne—but I'll say this again. In my eyes, you are utterly unfit to be Curze's child."
"If the real Curze had a daughter like you, he would consider it a humiliation!"
To Shavok, this little figure inherited nothing that mattered from Curze. Not strength, not height, not terror—only the pale complexion was remotely similar.
Worse, this tiny thing couldn't even manage the basics of going to the bathroom properly, and had come rushing into a council meeting half-undressed.
If that wasn't comedy, what was?
"Recruit! Kneel down for me!"
Curze barked the order viciously.
"Huh?"
Bruce had only just finished helping Sevatar get Curze dressed again, and the next second he was forcibly pushed down.
With effortless ease, Curze mounted Bruce's shoulders. Once she was upright, she could finally meet Shavok eye-to-eye.
Now she was truly furious.
"I'll give you one final chance. Apologize to me. Otherwise, I will personally kill you!"
Curze clenched her fists.
"Hahahahahaha—!"
At this point, Shavok was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
"Shavok! Don't push this too far! Whatever else she may be, she is still the Night Haunter's child!"
"Shavok, apologize to Lady Remilia!"
"I actually think Lady Remilia is rather nice…"
"Damn you, insulting even Lady Remilia? That's beyond the pale! I'll be the first one to charge!"
"If Sevatar were still active, what you just said would have been enough to get you killed a dozen times over!"
"Let the record show that the One Hundred Fourteenth Company stands with Lady Remilia. This has nothing to do with Legion politics."
…
Listening to the Night Haunter Council members one after another, Shavok finally started sweating for real.
"Wait—my battle-brothers, have you all really fallen this far?" he said, unable to believe it.
So all of you are actually interested in that?
"Answer me!" Curze hissed, gritting her teeth. "Are you going to apologize or not?"
"…"
Looking at Curze—so furious, yet so utterly unthreatening—Shavok simply shook his head again and again. Then, with a mixture of contempt and pity in his eyes, he glanced at her one final time and cut the transmission.
The holographic projection vanished instantly.
"What did he mean by that?!"
Only then did Curze fully react, grabbing Bruce by the hair and throwing a tantrum.
"I want him dead! Dead!"
"My lady, I wasn't the one who provoked you! Don't take it out on me!"
Bruce felt as though his scalp was about to peel off.
The others looked at one another, not knowing what to do.
But very quickly, all of Shavok's supporters severed their own connections as well, leaving only the loyalists in the chamber.
"Sevatar! Gather everyone!"
Curze slowly rose from Bruce's shoulders.
An aura of limitless cold swept outward in an instant. Her voice was not loud, but it carried unquestionable authority and a terror sharp enough to cut bone.
Then, word by word, she issued her command:
"I… will personally lead the campaign against that insolent wretch!"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 150)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 110)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter69)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter100)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 60
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 40
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 60
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 50
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 50
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 50
The Way the Umamusume Look at 31
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 26
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin