94: Chapter 94 Beneath the Spider's Web (Part 1)

The Fleur-de-lis family possesses an ancient history and tradition; they were once known as the French Iris family, but now they can only be called the Fleur-de-lis family.

Although both terms refer to the iris flower, the former is the high gothic pronunciation, while the latter is the Low Gothic one.

The Sartre family was much simpler; it was merely a vassal family under the Fleur-de-lis family.

Through countless generations of loyalty and service, they finally won for the family heir—Jean Sart—the opportunity to follow the banner of the iris into the heart of the Empire, the Throneworld: Terra.

Since childhood, Jean Sart had been loyal to this individual: the hope of the Sector Governor, the rising star of the sector's nobility, the treasure of the Fleur-de-lis family, and the Empire's newly appointed Master of Administratum.

He grew up alongside his lord and possessed exceptional abilities in data and auditing.

Today was a special day for Jean Sart; he was about to officially become a member of the bureaucratic system at the heart of the Terran Empire, with the position of Precision Tithe Assessment and Audit Officer.

Currently, in the center of his desk lay his appointment letter, personally written by his lord, the Master of Administratum, sealed with wax, and folded into a square shape.

This was a marvelous folding technique; every noble house with an ancient heritage had its own secret folding method to convey more subtle identity markers beyond the wax seal.

Beside the appointment letter was a loan agreement for the purchase of property on Terra, which had been delivered alongside the appointment.

He had already opened and read the appointment letter; after finishing, he had neatly refolded it and placed it back in the center of the desk.

This was his way of showing respect to his lord.

It was precisely this absolute loyalty—never relaxing his standards even when no one was watching—and his innate talent for numbers that had earned him the trust and reliance of the Master of Administratum.

At this moment, his heart was filled with a mixture of joy and worry.

The joy was:

It was extremely difficult for outside nobles to enter Terra; one could even say it was nearly impossible.

He had seen such records in the library of his lord’s family, the Fleur-de-lis:

The former Swon family had achieved illustrious military honors during the 30K era, fighting side-by-side with the Luna Wolves and the Dark Angels Legions; even the Primarchs had once praised their honor.

However, even though they had given their all for the Empire, when they requested to relocate their family to Terra, they received only a polite refusal.

In the end, they became Horus's vanguard and eventually vanished into the vastness of the universe.

Terra! It wasn't that the sector nobles couldn't understand the obsession with Terra.

For the noble families in the sectors, whether strong or weak, without a sufficiently profound history, there was no sufficient glory. Their rule over a sector or a world would lack enough legitimacy and could be disposed of at any time by other nobles with ancient heritages in whatever manner they pleased.

However, when they began to trace their family history, that history would eternally point back to Terra.

Every page of family history stated that a certain ancestor had stepped out of Terra at a certain time... without exception.

Now that he had obtained the qualification to sign a loan agreement to purchase property, it was a milestone of extraordinary significance for him and their family from the sector.

The worry was:

There were too many hidden rules on Terra. On this Throneworld, especially in the Palace District, the bones of a family might be buried under every single golden floor tile.

Even his lord—theoretically the second most powerful person in the Empire, the Emperor’s Great Steward, the Chancellor of the Empire, the Master of Administratum—had shown a bitter smile in front of him and told him directly that he had touched a hidden red line and learned a lesson.

He was sensible enough not to ask further. This was the good breeding of a retainer; if the lord had a need, he would seek his opinion. Since the lord didn't say anything, he would act as if it didn't exist.

Originally, he shouldn't have taken such a position; the starting point was too low, and the power derived from his lord would be restricted in a vertical field.

But since his lord requested him to start from the grassroots level, he had no objections. He vaguely felt that this was not unrelated to his lord touching that red line.

Starting from the grassroots level was also good, as it could help his lord clarify the entire chain of power transmission throughout Terra.

Besides him, there were seven other such people arranged by his lord, all placed in different positions within the Administratum.

A woman's scolding came from outside the room, mixed with the crying of two children.

He listened quietly and understood from his wife's angry words that his second daughter had once again teased his infant son, who was still in swaddling clothes.

And she had been disciplined by his wife.

At this moment, all his worries dissipated. For a man, isn't this what it's all about?

Composing his scattered emotions, he picked up the loan agreement for the Terran property and dripped wax at the bottom of the document, pressing his signet ring into it.

---

Jean Sart walked briskly through the endless quartzite arcades of the Terra Imperial Palace, heading straight to the Imperial Central Tax Bureau to take up his post.

The onboarding process was extremely fast, without any buck-passing or delays, proceeding so smoothly it almost didn't feel like the Empire.

He had been in the position for a month now. Thanks to having assisted the Master of Administratum in ruling a sector, the work in the Tax Bureau was well within his capabilities.

He had once stood at a high position, so when he looked at the operation of lower-level posts with a high-level perspective, it was a natural dimensional strike. The operation of the entire system was partially transparent to him because he knew where these seemingly scattered pieces of data would eventually flow, where they would be integrated, and where they would become the basis for decisions.

He hadn't forgotten his lord's intention in placing him at the grassroots: using the power of finance and taxation to pressure the small and medium-sized nobles of Terra. His lord wanted to use a minor incident of "killing a chicken to scare the monkeys" to build an expectation: "His words produce results."

His lord was very patient and willing to wait, even prepared for no results, treating it entirely as placing another wedge in Terra for the family's future.

Therefore, he was in no hurry; he only needed to work quietly and then find such an incident.

But soon, such an opportunity arrived. His direct superior, a Tax Chief with sunken eyes and a slow, slightly portly frame, called him into the office.

The Tax Chief's fingers slid across the interface of the Cogitator Terminal, pulling up an encrypted document with an Aquila watermark.

He turned the terminal screen toward him; the signature at the bottom was that of the Regent Guilliman, who was currently commanding the Indomitus Crusade.

The content of the document was roughly: on the battlefields of Macragge, the crusade fleet's ammunition consumption was enormous and needed urgent replenishment.

His high gothic carried a slight lisp, and his tone held a hint of appreciation.

"Jean Sart, your work this past month has been outstanding; even the Tax Bureau has heard your name."