Chapter 294 – The Freeman Allegiance! The Sardaukar Legion! The Call to Arms!
At this moment, Duke Leto turned his head and looked at Hawat. "Keep an eye on the traitor within our ranks. Don't let him succeed."
It was Song Zhaomei who had personally warned Leto that there was a mole inside House Atreides and that he needed to be vigilant.
After days of investigation, Hawat had essentially confirmed the information. He smiled and assured Leto, "Don't worry, my Lord Duke."
"Everything is under our control."
Hawat hadn't rushed to expose the traitor because he intended to use the mole to feed false intelligence—an essential step in provoking the coming war.
He needed to swiftly resolve the threats posed by House Corrino and House Harkonnen and support Executor Li Ang in ascending to the position of God-Emperor, securing a share in the Empire's spoils.
"That would be ideal."
Leto nodded, then led his family entourage onward to continue inspecting the Atreides military formation. At that moment, Paul overheard the Fremen all chanting the same name.
Lisan al-Gaib!
In the Fremen language, this name meant "The Messiah." These warriors shouted it with fervor—it was clear they had come to see House Atreides as their savior.
Seeing this, the relaxed expression on Leto's face darkened.
This Fremen force had originally been intended by the Bene Gesserit as the "startup capital" for their prophesied Messiah. But now, Hawat had taken early control of the force and brought them into Atreides service.
And while they might be fighting under House Atreides, their loyalty clearly lay with "Lisan al-Gaib"—not the family, and certainly not Duke Leto himself.
If the Bene Gesserit priestesses decided to secretly persuade the Fremen to switch allegiances, it was entirely possible these very troops would turn their blades on House Atreides.
Moreover, in these disciplined, battle-hardened Fremen warriors, Leto could clearly see the ambition of the Bene Gesserit. They had long been preparing to seize imperial power.
This elite Fremen legion was the clearest proof.
"Those old witches of the Bene Gesserit really are something," Leto muttered. "To be able to secretly raise such a powerful army right under the Harkonnens' noses… Their schemes run deep."
To others nearby, Leto's remark sounded like a sarcastic jab at Lady Jessica—who, after all, was herself a high-ranking member of the Bene Gesserit.
Yet Jessica remained unfazed. She had long since turned her back on her sisterhood, pledging herself instead to her husband and child.
As far as she was concerned, the Bene Gesserit no longer had anything to do with her. She was a married woman now—cast out like water spilled. Besides, the sisterhood had only ever seen her as a breeding vessel for their so-called Messiah.
Had she stayed with them, the best she could've hoped for was a life as an overworked "holy mother," constantly arranging for beautiful girls to be sent to noble households—like some brothel madam, running herself ragged.
But here, with House Atreides, all she had to do was support her husband and raise her children in peace. What could be better than a noble life as the duchess, with a son and daughter of her own?
"If the Fremen only serve the Messiah, then they really have nothing to do with House Atreides," she remarked. "That's a matter for the galactic megacorp to handle—it's not our burden."
"We're just temporarily holding the reins of this army on behalf of the corporation's Executor. Whether to accept or reject them—that's up to the company to decide."
Jessica saw the situation with remarkable clarity.
She understood well that the Fremen's loyalty was to the Messiah—but who the Messiah actually was, that authority rested with the Bene Gesserit.
In other words, only the Sisterhood's "Reverend Mothers" could truly command the Fremen army.
For now, the reason these troops were seemingly aligned with House Atreides was simply because they hadn't yet received updated orders from Reverend Mother Helen.
If she were to personally incite the Fremen to rebel, it would spell serious trouble for House Atreides.
That made it urgent to settle things with the Bene Gesserit—to force them to define once and for all who the Messiah truly was, and officially tie the Fremen army's allegiance to Boss Li Ang .
And that was the Bene Gesserit's only real bargaining chip if they wanted to submit and join the galactic megacorp. If used wisely, they might still secure a seat at the table—a place in the new order.
Having figured this out, Jessica began forming her own private plan. She wanted to help the megacorp secure this army—perhaps as one last contribution to her former sisterhood.
After all, having grown up in the Bene Gesserit, it was impossible for her not to feel some attachment. Watching them collapse due to a political misstep was something Jessica couldn't bear.
She and Leto had different motives, but they were now both focused on the same objective: to hand this Fremen army over to the galactic megacorp—and avoid having it become their problem.
Meanwhile, the young Paul gazed at the Fremen below, deep in thought.
Piecing together everything he'd learned over the past few days, he was beginning to understand what the Fremen meant to him.
This army had originally been prepared by the Bene Gesserit as his war chest—his startup capital to fight for the throne.
And those war-torn scenes he'd seen in his dreams? They were visions of these grizzled warriors fighting tooth and nail under his banner, carving out an empire.
But now, all of that was going to be handed off to the megacorp.
The bad news? His startup capital was gone.
But the good news? House Atreides was cashing out at the peak, walking away clean—and Paul wouldn't even need to lift a finger to win. He'd hit the jackpot just by inheriting it all.
No Fremen army? No problem. He also avoided the fate of being manipulated by the Bene Gesserit.
When he thought about it rationally, why risk a bloody startup venture when he could just lay back and wait for his parents to hand him the empire on a silver platter?
With that, Paul took a deep breath, his resolve to lie flat and coast through life growing ever firmer.
"Let's go."
At that moment, the Atreides family had unknowingly arrived at the ornithopter Hawat had prepared for them.
They boarded the craft and flew toward their core stronghold—the main base of House Atreides.
Not long after, Duke Leto and his group safely arrived at the base, ready to rest and await the latest reports from their intelligence network.
The base itself resembled a massive steel fortress. It had once been House Harkonnen's headquarters on Arrakis, but after their withdrawal, House Atreides had taken it over.
It functioned much like a prince's palace, fully equipped with garrisons and defensive installations.
Upon taking possession, Hawat had personally overseen extensive upgrades to the fortress, reinforcing its defenses.
He knew, of course, that none of it really mattered. With the megacorp's fleets in orbit, no enemy force could ever land.
But still, idle hands are the devil's workshop. He needed to create a sense of tension for the other houses—just enough to keep House Harkonnen and the Corrino royal family from getting suspicious.
During this period, Hawat had also spent considerable time studying the megacorp's naval forces, learning from its fleet commanders.
Captains Terrence and Andrew had both introduced him to the capabilities of their flagships, cruisers, and other colossal warships—as well as various space warfare doctrines.
The more Hawat learned, the more awestruck he became by the megacorp's power.
If they were attacking proactively and didn't care about taking prisoners, the megacorp could end a colonial war in just three minutes—by deploying a neutron annihilation strike to achieve total victory.
Three minutes to win a war. That wasn't just "efficient." That was a pure, brutal dimensional superiority.
If they really wanted to, the megacorp could erase the entire Galactic Empire from existence—leaving not a single trace behind.
As defenders, they were no less terrifying. With thousands of AI reconnaissance drones in countless variants, they could easily detect every ship movement in the star system.
Their various ships were equipped with main cannons, CIWS, and impenetrable shield technology, making their fleets virtually untouchable—with firepower to burn.
How do you lose when you've got a dragon sitting on your opponent's face?
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Salusa Secundus.
This brutal planet, used as the training ground for the Sardaukar, had forged the most terrifying, bloodthirsty military force in the Empire.
The sky-high mortality rates and a worldview where survival depended on killing and merit made every Sardaukar a ruthless, reward-driven sociopath.
But they were also extremely capable. Whether it was swordsmanship or espionage, the Sardaukar had honed their skills to a pinnacle of lethal perfection.
In addition to that, the Corrino royal family regularly provided them with supplies, money, and spices. This ensured that every Sardaukar was unwaveringly loyal to the royal house.
The elite warriors of this Sardaukar legion were all roughly at level 10 in the Ginaz swordsmanship—essentially, the equivalent of an army composed entirely of Swordmasters.
This ruthlessly efficient killing force was the very foundation of Emperor Shaddam's confidence. Even the Fremen found the Sardaukar a formidable and troublesome opponent.
"O great and wise Galactic Empire, I present to you the invincible and unstoppable Sardaukar legion—absolutely loyal to the royal house!"
The speaker was Bashar.
He was the commander of this Sardaukar legion. As Emperor Shaddam had personally come to inspect them, Bashar lowered his head respectfully to express his utmost reverence toward the imperial family.
But Shaddam paid him no heed. His cold, sinister gaze was fixed instead on the Sardaukar warriors below.
He wanted to see for himself whether the Sardaukar here were still loyal to House Corrino—and whether they could still serve as the razor-sharp blade of the royal family.
At this moment, a corrosive acid rain was falling from the sky. Protected by his attendants and a canopy, Emperor Shaddam remained untouched by even a single drop of the filthy downpour.
The Sardaukar below, however, stood completely exposed to the freezing rain that made one's skin crawl. The acidic water lashed their bodies, but they remained utterly motionless—like spears thrust into the ground, standing firm.
They were long accustomed to such drills.
Half an hour passed. Seeing no irregularities, Emperor Shaddam finally nodded with satisfaction.
"Not bad. This is more like it."
For generations, the Sardaukar legion had sworn fealty to House Corrino. In earlier years, this undefeated army had indeed helped Emperor Shaddam suppress numerous traitors and rebels.
But that was decades ago.
After all, the Corrino family didn't need to be waging war or quelling uprisings across the Empire all the time, so the Sardaukar weren't frequently deployed.
Even so, Shaddam never dared cut back on their welfare. They were kept well-fed, well-clothed, and treated with high regard.
After all, to make a vicious wolf serve your cause, you must ensure it's well-fed—otherwise, it would turn on you without hesitation.
Over the years, Emperor Shaddam had poured considerable resources into the Sardaukar. Now, in the face of the Atreides' rebellion, he was growing increasingly uneasy.
That old fox Leto Atreides was notoriously meticulous—he never fought an unprepared war. According to Reverend Mother Mohiam, they even possessed devices that could block Voice-based commands.
This gave Emperor Shaddam a sense of unease. He worried the long-inactive Sardaukar might falter at a critical moment.
But upon arriving on Salusa Secundus, Shaddam's doubts and tension were immediately swept away.
This Sardaukar legion was as fierce and loyal as ever. Their steely discipline alone was enough to terrify the household troops of many noble families.
Whatever hidden cards House Atreides might be holding, they were meaningless before such a powerful Sardaukar force.
"Damn those Atreides—they've openly betrayed the great Empire and stood in defiance of House Corrino!"
Emperor Shaddam stood up. Flanked by his attendants, he roared with righteous fury: "Now, I need you to show your loyalty to the royal family."
"Go to Arrakis. Destroy House Atreides. Bring me the head of that treacherous dog Leto!"
"And execute every last member of the Atreides household!"
The Emperor's furious declaration ignited the bloodlust of the Sardaukar warriors below. They responded with low, hyena-like growls, eager to carry out his brutal orders.
The Sardaukar were by nature violent and bloodthirsty. In times of peace, they grew restless and agitated, often turning on each other—or on death row inmates—for release.
Moreover, after every battle, the Emperor tacitly permitted them to sack cities, loot treasures, and violate women. Thus, whenever war was imminent, they became visibly ecstatic.
In truth, the Sardaukar functioned more like state-sponsored marauders. Their only duty was to serve the Emperor. Everything else was irrelevant.
The Emperor's subjects were mere rabble—killing them meant nothing.
ROAR—!!
As the Sardaukar warriors below roared in bloodthirsty unison, Emperor Shaddam felt an exhilarated thrill. He was already thinking about dragging out a prisoner to execute as a sacrifice.
He was itching to draw his blade and kill someone just to get in the mood.
"O mighty Galactic Emperor!"
At that moment, Bashar sliced open his own palm and used his blood to draw a symbol on his breastplate. Then, word by word, he solemnly declared:
"We will follow your will, punish the rebellious House Atreides, and flay those ungrateful traitors alive to demonstrate the royal family's supreme authority."
"Long live House Corrino!"
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