Chapter 33 The Daken Faction

Claule Hamon was a woman of mysterious background. Some said she had once served as Kycilia Zabi’s secretary, while others claimed she was the sister-in-law of former Head of State Zeon Zum Deikun. Macarius was not yet certain whether these rumors were true, but he knew for a fact that she and her fiancé, Ramba Ral, were among the few remaining Deikun loyalists within Zeon.

The so-called Deikun faction consisted of supporters of the late Head of State, Zeon Zum Deikun. In the past, when Deikun held supreme power, naturally the entire nation belonged to the Deikun faction. However, following Deikun's mysterious assassination and the Zabi family's rise to power, these loyalists naturally became a severe eyesore to the new regime.

New emperors bring new ministers. In the eyes of the Deikun faction, the Zabi family were fellow comrades under Deikun, standing on equal footing. By what right did they claim the master's seat? Since they detested one another, various forms of "communication" between the two sides were inevitable.

Thus, after intense political struggles, Gihren Zabi lost his patience. He decided that physical elimination was far more effective than psychological persuasion.

Consequently, a bloody purge of the Deikun faction was launched, and the primary target was the Ral family, whose influence at the time rivaled that of the Zabi family itself.

The head of the household at the time, Jimba Ral, had been a trusted right-hand man to Deikun. Following Deikun's death, he immediately took Deikun's widow and two children under his protection, thereby giving the Zabi family a pretext to strike against them.

During a riot instigated by the Zabi family, most members of the Ral family met violent ends. Only a few managed to flee Zeon and reach Earth. Yet, the assassins dispatched by the Zabi family pursued them even to Earth, ultimately murdering Jimba Ral, the head of the house.

Now, the only surviving member of the Ral family was Ramba Ral, the eldest son, who was currently serving in the Zeon National Defense Force.

Because Ramba Ral had not revealed any political ambitions and possessed exceptional military talent, Gihren did not impose excessive restrictions on him, nor did he grant him significant promotion. While officers of his seniority had long since attained field-grade ranks, he remained a mere captain.

Ramba Ral was well aware that he was unwelcome to the powers that be. Therefore, his movements within Zum City were strictly routine: by day, he trained soldiers at the barracks; by night, he sought refuge and drowned his sorrows in his fiancée’s bar.

On this particular day, while he was putting his subordinates through rigorous training at the camp, a trusted aide, whom he had left to ensure his fiancée's security, came running up to him in a panic.

"The Head of State's Guard?"

Upon hearing that the secret police had visited the bar, Ramba Ral was consumed with fury. He had already reduced himself to this state—did Gihren's lackeys still refuse to let him go?

His subordinates watched in utter astonishment as Ramba Ral leaped directly off the armored vehicle, grabbed his aide by the collar, and hauled him into a sedan.

"How many of them are there?"

"There are eight so far, but that punk said he's going to bring a whole regiment to raze the bar to the ground!"

"A punk?"

Ramba Ral furrowed his brow.

"Start from the beginning and tell me everything!"

Before long, he grasped the whole situation, and his anger flared even hotter.

Of all the audacity, Gihren! Now your subordinates are openly trying to poach my woman right under my nose?

Ramba Ral sped all the way back to the city, vowing to teach that arrogant little brat a severe lesson and serve him a fist the size of a potato.

Yet, when he stormed into the bar and bounded down the stairs like a bolt of lightning, what greeted his ears was the sound of a woman's laughter.

"Hamon?"

Ramba Ral looked toward the bar counter, only to discover, much to his shock, that his fiancée was chatting animatedly with the young pup seated there.

"Kid, you've taken the wrong seat. This one belongs to me!"

Though only one meter and seventy centimeters tall, Ramba Ral possessed a remarkably sturdy build. He stepped forward immediately and tapped Macarius on the shoulder.

"Mister, your routine is outdated. It won't win a woman's heart. Isn't that right, Sister Hamon?"

"Indeed. Who could possibly like an ugly, old mister? Young, wealthy young men are so much more charming!"

The last time Hamon had seen her fiancé act with such frantic concern was the day the Ral family name became a hollow shell. Seeing him react this way on her account made her deeply happy, yet she couldn't resist the urge to tease him a little further.

"I'm ugly and old? And poor, to boot?"

Veins throbbed on Ramba Ral's forehead as he gritted his teeth and glared at Macarius.

"Well, mister, you're only a captain, aren't you? Is your salary enough to buy a house in Zum City? How big of one could you afford? Have you even considered the interior decoration? How many times a year do you plan to go on vacation?"

"So, you're saying you're loaded?"

"More or less. My family estate just happens to have a mountain and a stretch of coastline, that's all."

Macarius said this offhandedly. His family's property was indeed quite vast; after all, with a large majority of humanity having migrated to Earth, the vacant land naturally belonged to those who remained behind.

"Well, then, I certainly must go and have a look!"

Hamon chimed in with an extra remark just to needle him.

"That's enough, kid. Out with it—what on earth are you here for?"

Ramba Ral was no fool. He could easily tell that the person before him was an unseasoned regular military cadet, not one of Gihren's secret police. Besides, when he first walked in, Hamon had deliberately flashed a Federation currency note at him.

Thus, he had already deduced Macarius's true identity.

"I am here to negotiate, Captain Ramba Ral!"

Macarius dropped his previous playful demeanor, turning solemn as he extended his right hand toward the officer.

"What could you possibly want to negotiate? If you're hoping to recruit me as a spy for the Earth Federation, forget it!"

"No, what I wish to discuss with you concerns the future of Zeon, and the future of the Deikun faction as well!"

"By whose authority?"

"Don't you want to know the whereabouts of Casval and Artesia?"

The very next second after Macarius spoke these words, Ramba Ral lunged forward, reaching out with both hands as if to hoist him into the air.

"What do you know? And who on earth are you?"

"Allow me to introduce myself: Macarius Clinique!"

Pushing the man's hands aside gently, Macarius dropped his first bombshell.

"First of all, Casval Deikun is not dead!"

"Not dead? Not dead?! Not dead!"

Ramba Ral staggered back a few steps, collapsing heavily into a chair as he muttered to himself in disbelief. Soon, the expression on his face shifted from elation to anguish and self-reproach, and finally, the burly warrior reached up to wipe his eyes.

"Clinique... does this mean you have come as an emissary of Lieutenant General Jimin?"

"You could say that."

Macarius unhesitatingly borrowed his grandfather's prestige, assuming the old man wouldn't mind.

"Then, what is your goal?"

"I said it before: I want to talk to you about the future of Zeon, the future of the Earth Federation, and of course, the future of the Deikun faction."

"Naturally, the prerequisite for achieving all of this is that we must first survive this war!"