The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Standing before the sealed observation window, Mikael Kolostoy spread his arms as servants made final adjustments to his appearance. At 21, he possessed a fair and delicate face, his 1.8-meter frame tall and slender. Coupled with his keen, pure blue eyes and soft, golden-blond hair, he was undeniably a handsome man by human standards, though his demeanor clashed with the ornate red and gold military uniform he wore.

Though tailored specifically for him, the "Marshal's uniform" failed to lend him sufficient authority. Beneath the scarlet, gold-trimmed coat was a pure silver breastplate, engraved with the Aquila and adorned with sashes and scrolls. His red breeches featured three gold stripes down the sides, and his heavy boots clanged with each step. All of it was magnificent, yet utterly lacking in gravitas.

After all, he had only recently been a servant, albeit a high-ranking one. To become a marshal commanding a million soldiers in such a short time was, plainly, impossible.

Mikael was aware of his image problem. To compensate, he had added a valuable fur cloak, a relic from a now-extinct apex predator of the planet, worth a king's ransom. Its sole purpose was to make him appear taller.

Next, maids fastened a gem-encrusted sword to his waist, followed by a delicate laser pistol.

Once everything was in place, he casually rested his hand on the sword hilt, rotating it slightly, before nodding.

Perhaps this would earn him a little more respect.

Despite his efforts to maintain a stern expression, his eyes betrayed his inner anxiety.

Astartes, beings he had only heard of in legends, entities that someone of his station could never hope to witness, he now had to face personally. The pressure was immense—at least, it was for him.

But he had to go, for he knew his master could not bear such pressure. Furthermore, his keen mind had long sensed the conspiracies and machinations surrounding the dying Pechinka family. He cared little for the Pechinka family's fate; even he could see that the once-illustrious house was doomed. Whether or not they managed to drive back the Orks, they would forever lose their grip on the governorship.

His sole concern was his master: how to ensure the survival of that poor 19-year-old, how to guarantee his future safety.

It seemed simple, but Mikael knew the immense difficulty involved. Not only were there external threats, but after the annihilation of the family's direct line, many collateral branches had emerged, circling the weak and timid "new governor" like ravenous wolves. They feigned smiles and swore oaths to support the state and restore the Pechinka family's glory, all while secretly plotting to usurp young Yuri. The most common tactic, of course, was assassination.

After all, Yuri's death would naturally pass the inheritance to the branch closest to the main line.

Even at this critical juncture, these people were still consumed by thoughts of the crumbling power. Mikael was both infuriated and helpless. Fortunately, while he might not be adept at military strategy, his political maneuvering skills were adequate. He cleverly exploited the conflicting interests between the collateral families, using both enticement and suppression. He appointed young scions of powerful families as officers on dangerous front lines, sending them to their deaths, while placing weaker families in control of key departments in the rear, fueling their mutual animosity and preventing them from uniting to force his master to abdicate.

But the most serious threats still came from outside. The Orks aside, Mikael himself had survived multiple assassination attempts. Once, he was merely a dozen minutes late boarding a transport to the front, and the supposedly secure aircraft exploded. The clues pointed clearly to other noble houses, especially the Hilenko family.

This family, which controlled the Eastern Continent, was now likely the most powerful noble house on the planet. They were clearly impatient for the governorship, believing that eliminating Mikael would spell the end for the Pechinka family. Then, they could smoothly declare themselves "interim governors" and secure the position permanently in the future.

As for the Orks?

The Pechinka family seemed to believe that these savage aliens posed no threat, thanks to the treacherous seas that served as a natural barrier. They merely had to wait for Imperial reinforcements to arrive, then they could legitimately rule the entire planet, even if it meant sacrificing the entire Western Continent and its billions of inhabitants.

Power, so alluring, yet so ugly. Thus, Mikael bore a heavy responsibility, single-handedly holding up the sky, for no one stood by his master's side but him. And in this turbulent situation, only one force could deliver a decisive blow.

However, this "Governor-Delegate Naysmith" was not to be trifled with. Mikael had heard of him. This angel had once descended upon this world, though it was decades ago, before Mikael was even born. During his time serving his master, Yuri had recounted many secrets about this angel.

It was said that after the angel's arrival, some unpleasant incidents occurred in the Hilenko family's territory, scaring the then-governor half to death. Fortunately, the angel ultimately did not hold anyone accountable and simply departed.

The specifics of these "unpleasant incidents" were unknown even to Yuri, indicating a heavy cover-up, indirectly suggesting that the matter was likely significant.

But this might also be an opportunity. The angel would likely not favor the Hilenko family, or at least not so quickly.

"...Entering orbit."

As the shuttle's announcement sounded, the craft's vibrations gradually subsided, and the roaring and rumbling faded away. A thick silence enveloped the cabin, making it hard to breathe.

Mikael closed his eyes briefly, clearly hearing his own heartbeat.

At that moment, the shuttle's observation window's protective panel slowly lowered, revealing the vast, magnificent void before him.

Mikael had been to space several times, and each time he was awestruck by the boundless darkness and the endless stars in the distance. This was the Imperium, a colossal entity dominating the infinite universe. An individual within it seemed so insignificant, no matter how noble their status or how great their power. All were merely specks of dust on an insignificant little planet.

And he was about to meet those who had the power to command the stars and the cosmos, the embodiment of the Emperor's will.

But even before meeting them, he was already overwhelmed.

"So magnificent, so grand, so..."

Mikael gritted his teeth, his grip on the sword hilt tightening.

As the shuttle moved, a towering ridge seemed to appear ahead, looming in the darkness.

Then it grew larger and larger, until it filled Mikael's entire vision. It felt as if a towering mountain was bearing down on him. His field of vision continued to rise and expand, but its outline became increasingly blurred, for Mikael could no longer see its entirety. He only vaguely knew that it had a triangular shape, like a trident wielded by a god.