Chapter 56 – This Is a Sure Thing
Two flowers bloom, each telling its own story.
While Eileen was instigating a chaotic brawl among her fellow warriors aboard the Radiance of Macragge, a very different undercurrent was brewing inside the opulent governor's mansion on the planet Estut.
---
Governor's Mansion, Top Floor Study
The air in the room was thick with a sweet, almost cloying fragrance.
It was a perfume created by blending hundreds of rare plants with traces of mild hallucinogenic incense.
Every object in the room had been arranged with obsessive precision.
The carpet's pattern was perfectly symmetrical.
Each book on the shelf was aligned with millimeter accuracy.
Even the servant wiping the window moved with mechanical exactness.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
A suffocating perfection.
The planetary governor of Estut, patriarch of the Valanta family, sat behind an exquisite desk.
In his hand was a pen inlaid with amethyst as he signed a tax document.
Swish… swish… swish…
The nib glided smoothly across the parchment.
Governor Valanta suddenly stopped.
His eyes narrowed at the name he had just written.
The final stroke of his elegant signature had deviated slightly—about 0.01 millimeters from its ideal curve.
"Tsk."
Pain flashed across his face as if he had seen something filthy.
"This is the pen you provided?"
His voice was calm. Gentle.
The head squire beside the desk began trembling violently, his face pale.
"My lord… I… I followed the highest standards…"
"Not perfect enough."
The governor sighed and waved a hand dismissively.
"Since your hand cannot even select a proper pen, there is no reason for you to exist."
"Go to the Collection Room. That will be your final resting place."
"No! My lord! Please! I can change! I will—"
His desperate screams were quickly muffled as two guards dragged him away.
The governor calmly replaced the parchment and picked up another pen.
A look of bliss appeared on his face.
"His Highness…"
He murmured reverently.
Roboute Guilliman.
"What perfect administrative artistry."
"Every command he issues… every policy he designs… pure perfection."
"We must learn from him."
"No… we must surpass him."
"We must elevate this art to its ultimate perfection."
At that moment, the study door burst open.
Lars Valanta—the second son who had been humiliated at the banquet—hurried inside.
He immediately shrank back when he saw his father admiring his calligraphy.
In this household, no one was unafraid of the governor.
His pathological obsession with perfection made Lars constantly feel like a defective product—something that could be discarded at any moment.
"F-Father…"
Lars stood stiffly at the doorway and bowed carefully, ensuring the angle of his posture was flawless.
"Lars."
The governor did not look up.
"You are breathing unevenly. Your footsteps were ten decibels too loud."
"Such agitation does not suit the elegance of the Valanta family."
"I'm sorry, Father."
Lars quickly steadied his breathing.
"But I have an urgent matter."
"Speak."
"It concerns the family's honor! Father—you must help me!"
"At the banquet I was humiliated by a… wild girl. I don't even know where she came from!"
"Oh?"
The governor finally raised an eyebrow.
"Humiliated?"
"On this planet… someone dared humiliate a member of the Valanta family?"
"Yes!"
Lars began recounting the banquet.
Naturally, he omitted the part where he had been ignored.
Instead, he emphasized Eileen's "arrogance" and "rudeness."
"That country bumpkin said her bodyguard could crush your guards with one finger! She even called our governor's mansion a gang headquarters!"
Lars gestured angrily.
"She challenged me to a duel! The arena the day after tomorrow!"
"Father, I cannot tolerate this!"
"I must teach her a lesson! I'll make her kneel and beg for mercy!"
He swallowed.
"So… I'd like to borrow some of your private guards. Just a few elites."
He waited expectantly.
Governor Valanta remained silent for a moment.
Surprisingly, he was not angry.
Instead, a strange smile slowly spread across his face.
"A duel…"
His fingers tapped softly against the desk.
"How interesting."
"So this country girl worships violence?"
"She worships strength?"
"Yes! She's just an uncultured barbarian!" Lars quickly added.
"Then listen carefully, Lars."
The governor rose from his chair and walked toward his son.
With delicate fingers he straightened Lars's collar.
"If you are going to win… you must not win casually."
"That would be vulgar."
"Inelegant."
His voice was smooth like silk.
"When the Valanta family participates in something, it must become… a masterpiece."
"A perfect crushing victory."
"The ultimate art of violent aesthetics."
"Ordinary guards?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Those soldiers in standard armor are too stiff. Too dull."
"They cannot give that country girl the… soul-shaking experience she deserves."
Valanta turned and walked toward a concealed door in the corner of the study.
"If you want men…"
"I will give you the best."
"Those artists who have been waiting for their stage."
He glanced back.
"Come, Lars."
"Go meet your gladiators."
Lars's eyes lit up.
"Thank you, Father! I knew you were the wisest!"
---
The Underground Arena
The hidden door opened.
A spiral staircase descended deep underground.
As they walked downward, the sweet scent in the air grew stronger.
A faint rhythmic drumming echoed from below.
Lars possessed almost no psychic sensitivity, so he felt nothing unusual.
The décor merely seemed… extremely avant-garde.
The walls were decorated with jewel-inlaid torture instruments.
The carpet felt strangely soft—almost like stepping on flesh.
"We're here."
Governor Valanta stopped before a massive door engraved with grotesque reliefs of twisted limbs.
He entered a complex code.
Click… hum…
The door slid open.
A wave of heat and metallic sweetness rushed out.
Lars stared in shock.
Inside was a vast underground arena.
In the center, dozens of armored guards were sparring.
But this was not normal military training.
Their movements were unnaturally fast—almost like a dance.
Their pupils were dilated.
Eyes bloodshot.
Faces twisted into ecstatic smiles.
"Hiss—ha—!"
One soldier's arm was slashed open.
Instead of screaming, he groaned in pleasure.
He licked the blood from the wound and charged again with greater frenzy.
"Th-this is…?" Lars asked in disbelief.
"A new combat stimulant."
The governor spoke calmly.
"It eliminates fear on the battlefield and converts pain into motivation."
"A perfect evolution of human potential."
Lars nodded slowly.
"What heroic warriors!"
To him, their manic expressions looked like courage and determination.
"It doesn't end there."
The governor clapped once.
"Bring out the big ones."
Six enormous iron cages slowly rose from beneath the arena.
"ROAR—!!!"
A beastlike roar shook the chamber.
The cage doors opened.
Six gigantic figures stepped out.
Lars instinctively took a step back.
"Th-these… are people?"
Each was nearly three meters tall.
Their muscles were grotesquely swollen, veins bulging across their skin.
Their bodies were covered in tattoos.
Metal plates and rivets had been implanted directly into their flesh.
Iron masks covered their faces, leaving only savage eyes visible.
In their hands were massive power axes capable of cleaving a man in half.
"These are the champions I purchased from the gladiator pits across the sector."
Governor Valanta gazed at them like an art collector admiring sculptures.
"I hired the best bio-sages to reconstruct them."
"Their fear nerves have been removed."
"Their adrenal systems enhanced."
"Metal has been injected into their bones."
"They are the ultimate expression of violent aesthetics."
He casually patted one giant's arm.
"There will be blood soon."
Turning to Lars, he asked calmly:
"What do you think, my son?"
"These six champions—together with my elite guards."
"Will that be enough to restore your dignity?"
Lars swallowed hard.
He stared at the monstrous warriors.
He did not see blasphemy.
He did not notice the chaotic runes within their tattoos.
He saw only:
Big.
Powerful.
Invincible.
Excitement exploded inside him.
"Oh my God! Father! This is incredible!"
He circled one giant and poked its massive biceps.
"Those muscles! That size!"
"Way better than that girl bragging about her 'huge bodyguards!'"
"That wild girl must be naive if she thinks her thugs are unbeatable."
"If she sees these guys…"
He imagined Eileen panicking and clinging to him in fear.
"Hehehe…"
Lars couldn't stop laughing.
"Alright!"
"I'll take them!"
He climbed onto a raised platform and faced the monsters below.
"Listen up! Warriors!"
"The day after tomorrow—we duel!"
"Our opponents are arrogant country bumpkins! They think they're strong!"
"But compared to you, they're nothing!"
The gladiators stared silently, weapons twitching.
"As long as you perform well…"
Lars continued his enthusiastic promises.
"Beat her bodyguards into pulp!"
"Crush them with a single finger if you can!"
"I'll reward you greatly!"
"Fine wine! The strongest hallucinogens!"
"And… ten slaves each!"
"No—twenty!"
That finally provoked a reaction.
The monsters' eyes gleamed.
For these degenerate warriors, money meant nothing.
Only stimulation.
Drugs.
And the blood-soaked revelry after battle.
"ROAR—!!!"
All six giants slammed their weapons against the ground.
The surrounding guards began pounding their shields in a frenzy.
"For perfection!!"
"For ecstasy!!"
"For Young Master!!"
(A few voices shouted this half-heartedly.)
The entire arena descended into madness.
Standing above them, Lars felt an overwhelming sense of superiority.
This fight…
Was already decided.
Absolutely decided.
He even felt a little pity for the girl named Eileen.
"Hopefully her bodyguards are stronger than she claimed."
He stroked his chin with what he believed was a charming smile.
"Otherwise it'll be boring if they wet themselves before the fight even starts."
"In two days…"
"I'll show you what real power looks like."
In the pink mist filling the arena, Lars's laughter echoed harshly.