"My lord, the Boleslaw's spire lies in that direction."
Bukayo approached Nareth and pointed ahead to the right.
"My lord, my full name is Bukayo Arshavin. My family was slaughtered by King Boleslaw on false charges. In truth, he just coveted our family's printing business."
"I had no choice but to flee to the lower hive. If I hadn't met you, I'd still be starving."
Nareth gave a slight nod. No wonder the boy had a maturity beyond his years—he once lived in the upper hive and received a proper education.
The freight elevator quickly shuttled back and forth, transporting all 840 of Nareth's men to the upper hive. Just then, Nareth suddenly heard the sound of vehicles approaching.
He immediately grabbed a nearby metal pillar and rushed toward the source of the noise.
Leaping forward with agility unfitting of his massive frame, Nareth darted through the cargo area, unimpeded by shipping containers and other obstacles.
He soared into the air and swung the heavy metal pillar, smashing the lead vehicle in the convoy.
The tumbling truck took out two more behind it.
When Bukayo arrived at the scene, he saw a dozen trucks crushed by his master.
Even though he had expected this, the sight still stunned him into silence.
Nareth realized he could wait no longer. His advantage wasn't numbers—it was time.
Once the enemy responded, they could mobilize forces hundreds, even thousands, of times greater than his own. Worse yet, they could call upon aid from the Mechanicus.
Nareth had no intention of burning all his loyal forces on just the conquest of Tetzwok Hive City—this was only the beginning.
He commanded orders to the hurriedly arriving Roslov, "Leave eight squads to guard the elevator entrance."
"The rest of you, attack the spire with me."
"As you wish, my lord."
Roslov responded without hesitation. A month ago, if someone had told him they'd storm a royal's spire hive with fewer than 800 men, he'd have thought them insane.
But if that someone was Nareth, this giant, godlike being, he believed it could be done.
No sooner had Nareth departed, a luxury car, bearing red with a golden lightning crest on its side, slowly rolled up.
Inside, Kaminsky, recently promoted from private butler to steward of the Fender family, lounged with eyes closed in a leather seat.
Suddenly, his secretary cried out, "Sir! Something's wrong at the freight terminal!"
"What?"
Kaminsky opened his eyes in irritation, only to see flames blazing ahead.
"Damn it, get us out of here!"
He silently thanked the fact that he had delayed his trip to prepare for the banquet and let the cargo convoy leave ahead of him. That delay had just saved his life.
Moments later, Howard received the news. He immediately switched to the family's intelligence officer channel.
"The cargo convoy's been attacked. Find out what happened, now!"
He then switched to the security channel. "Mobilize all family forces."
After ending the call, he furrowed his brow.
"Brelon?"
"No, he's useless."
"Estupiñan, maybe. Or maybe the royals themselves are behind this. It wouldn't be the first time they've seized businesses by force. The Fifth Arbitrator might just be Boleslaw's puppet on the surface."
The blonde noble youth rose and paced around his desk.
Just then, a beeping alert sounded.
Howard took a deep breath and answered the intelligence officer's call.
"My lord, we've reviewed the surveillance near the freight terminal. A force of less than a thousand men is rapidly advancing. They've already wiped out several hive security teams."
"Their target, our Spire Tower?"
"No, sir. Judging by their route, they're headed for the royal Spire Tower."
Howard froze, stunned.
"What?"
He thought he was hallucinating. Only a madman would dare attack the royals' Spire Tower.
He recalled from family history that one house had once mustered its entire elite, over 60,000 men, to storm a Spire Tower... and still failed to breach it.
This attacking force? Just a thousand.
"My lord, their leader is... unusual. I've never seen a human that tall. You should take a look."
Howard pulled out a data slate and watched the footage.
His azure pupils narrowed. He'd assumed it was just a burly man about two meters tall. But compared to the footage, even the Ogryns were dwarfed by this giant.
When he saw the face, he slowed down, refined it, he suddenly felt a strange familiarity.
In his mind, the handsome face of a youth overlapped with that of the towering giant. He gasped.
"Nareth!"
"How... how did he become like this?!"
The blonde noble couldn't believe what he saw. The way Nareth fought was nothing like the calm, thoughtful boy he remembered.
He crashed directly into a speeding vehicle. The assault skiff shattered on impact, its metallic debris raining down.
He grabbed a security guard like a rag doll and hurled him into a drone armed with a logging gun.
Words flashed through Howard's mind: 'brutal, efficient, cold, ruthless, unstoppable.'
'Nareth wasn't just a man, he was a god of war.'
Howard snapped out of his awe. Now was not the time to be amazed.
The key question: how should the Fender family respond?
'Even if Nareth's uprising fails, the Boleslaw family will suffer heavy losses.'
'And knowing how they operate, they'll shift the blame by seizing assets from other house, classic post-chaos intimidation tactics.'
'By tracing the attack route, they could connect this back to the Hantmann West Dome. That could point to it to me. Even my past defense of Nareth could be used against me.'
Howard clenched his fists. He realized Boleslaw's house would likely frame him as a traitor, accusing him of providing Nareth with intelligence, even masterminding the attack.
The truth wouldn't matter. As long as the royals could cover up the fact that a lower hive force stormed a Spire Tower, they could preserve their illusion of invincibility.
Howard clenched his fists tighter. He made a risky decision:
He would join Nareth's cause—and lead an attack against the Boleslaw family, who had long sucked the lifeblood from the Fender clan.
Nareth gave him the courage to act. In the mere four minutes he had watched the footage, the giant had already carved a path through an entire street's defenses.
Only 5.2 kilometers separated him from the royal Spire Tower.
As Howard led the Fender family's guards in vehicles toward the Boleslaw Tower, Nareth encountered his first real trouble.
Four stationary turrets opened fire. Mortar salvos rained down on his troops.
The deafening blasts tore through the air. Dozens of battle-hardened gang members were shredded like sandbags, blown apart by the shockwaves.
"Spread out!"
"Find cover!"
Nareth roared, charging straight through the storm of bullets toward the turrets.