The initial swift collapse of the Tower's defenses was largely due to the infiltrating enemies immediately neutralizing key personnel through decapitation. This was the core reason why the situation escalated so rapidly and spiraled out of control.
While the efforts of the miners outside were minor, the simultaneous assassination of numerous internal managers plunged the Tower into inevitable chaos.
However, none of this troubled Akarin, whose confidence didn't stem from the low-ranking overseers or the standard garrison. His reliance was placed solely on his personal guard.
This elite force, comprising five hundred men fully outfitted with power feedback power armor, was a testament to the Tower Lord's unwavering commitment to quality over quantity. The power armor for this private army alone consumed half of his fortune, and when accounting for the myriad supporting facilities, weapons, and equipment, the sheer expenditure still brought a pang of regret to his heart.
Yet, it was undeniably worth it. This private army was precisely what allowed him to firmly secure his position as patriarch and decisively repel the encroachments of other Kiavahr families who dared to extend their influence into the Tower.
"Clap, clap, clap." A sharp round of applause suddenly echoed from the doorway.
"As expected of the Tower Lord; your armed forces are remarkably potent. Mere miner slaves are, of course, insignificant. However, I do have a question I'd like to put to you, Akarin, sir." Corax appeared with unsettling abruptness in the heavily guarded room, surrounded by Akarin's private soldiers.
Neither the heavily armored guards nor Akarin himself detected how the man appeared; this tall, handsome figure seemed to simply materialize out of thin air.
"These miners must be under your command, sir. May I know your name?" Akarin inquired, fixing his gaze on the newly arrived man.
"My name is Corax, which in the tongue of Kiavahr means 'Savior'," Corax revealed his name this time.
"What is your question, Mr. Corax?" Akarin asked, a smile on his face, while subtly sending continuous signals with a ring on his finger, hidden behind his back.
"I wonder, Mr. Akarin, if your guards are swifter, or if my blade is faster?" Corax didn't impede the other's subtle maneuvers.
Even if the opponent's guards launched a unified assault, they wouldn't manage to touch a single hair on Corax.
Indeed, despite sharing the same basic form, the disparity between individuals could be absurd. Moreover, the Primarchs were essentially Warp gods cloaked in human flesh; sheer numbers held no meaning against them.
Oh, perhaps it should be said that it did still hold some meaning, considering the Primarchs were still in their developmental stages. Even the most absurd aliens in the galaxy could suppress a Primarch with just a small squad of elite warriors.
Unfortunately, the Tower Lord's private guard clearly did not fit that description.
"Mr. Corax, whatever you desire, the Tower and the Tech Guild are capable of fulfilling your needs." Sensing the situation rapidly slipping beyond his control, Akarin could only resort to stalling for more time.
"It seems I already told Agamemnus during the general strike, so I won't repeat myself. Since you've mentioned the Tech Guild, Akarin, sir, I shall invite you to bear witness to a grand event on Kiavahr, and simultaneously observe if your private guard can breach the blockade established by my comrades," Corax suggested, checking the time.
"Kiavahr?" Akarin frowned upon hearing this. Kiavahr had been calm and peaceful recently; he hadn't heard any whispers of rebels or a family planning a coup on the main planet. The ruling elite were contentedly exploiting the lower classes and plundering the entire star system's wealth through industrial price manipulation.
When there were endless opportunities in outer space, acquiring wealth from other places was far simpler than the gains reaped from internal political struggles.
Only when the pie had been more or less divided did the focus of conflict shift inward, with various overt and covert organizational battles becoming the primary concern.
It was no exaggeration to say that Kiavahr housed fifty percent of the wealth of the surrounding star system, and even a significant portion of the sector's riches.
"The lives of the Kiavahr system's people are overshadowed by the Tech Guild's dominion. From birth to death, they are controlled. Even if you conquer Lycaeus, do you honestly believe your miner slaves can withstand Kiavahr's counterattack?" Akarin scoffed, disdain evident in his voice.
In his eyes, these slaves were as futile as ants attempting to fell a tree.
"Under a nuclear bomb, all beings are equal. I don't believe the Tech Guild's resolve is as tough as a nuclear bomb." Corax calmly retrieved a data pad from the Tower Lord and displayed several real-time images.
The Tech Guild headquarters, the Kiavahr Legion command center, the technology research and development center, the family estates of several major families… one familiar building or symbol after another flickered across Akarin's vision.
"No, you can't do this, Kiavahr will be destroyed!" Akarin instantly grasped that Corax intended to use the mining nuclear bombs from Lycaeus for low-altitude strikes on these vital locations.
"Every new nation rises from the ashes of a decaying dynasty. There's an old saying, 'When a whale falls, all life thrives,' which is quite apt for our current situation. Furthermore, this is your Kiavahr. What I desire is a Kiavahr that belongs entirely to me," Corax stated, turning to fix his gaze on Akarin, his eyes blazing with incredibly resolute determination.
"What about those innocent people? How many innocent lives will be lost in a nuclear explosion?" Akarin demanded, his voice filled with anger.
"How curious, for the esteemed Tower Lord to suddenly concern himself with the lives of innocent people," Corax retorted with a laugh.
Isn't this just crocodile tears? he thought.
"Draw your sword, defeat me, and you'll still have a chance to save those innocent people you speak of." Corax unfastened the shadow chains that had bound Akarin's weapon.
As for the others in the room? Trapped by the shadow chains, they were merely spectators, forced to watch obediently. Corax was hardly foolish enough to grant them an opportunity for an ambush.
This caution stemmed from Swain's constant admonition to Corax: How many people, in their vanity to show off, end up stumbling into a ditch?
If Swain were present, his first action upon appearing would be to break the opponent's limbs before engaging them in a 'good' chat.
"Then die!" In a surge of fury, Akarin unsheathed the power sword from his waist, activated its disintegration field, and charged directly at Corax, accompanied by the distinctive hum of the energized weapon.
A pale blue light enveloped the keen blade; the disintegration field could effortlessly disrupt the molecular bonds of matter during an attack, allowing it to cut through even robust ceramite armor with ease.
"Slow, truly too slow." Corax remarked with disappointment, observing Akarin, who was augmented by his master-crafted power armor.
To Corax, the other man's movements seemed like slow-motion footage in a film. If he wished, Corax could have dismembered Akarin in less than a second.
"Thump."
Corax lifted his leg, then swiftly retracted it.
Under the expectant gazes of the confined individuals in the room, the Tower Lord was sent flying backward, his retreat even faster than his advance.