Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 127 is a golden toilet, we're saved!
Mordred was once again reminded of a fact: he could never beat the weasel no matter what, and could only be beaten to the ground.

This bastard is just like a brainless overpowered protagonist. Before, I could at least put up a fight with him, but now he's completely stopped pretending.

Mordred still needs to accumulate experience through snacks, while this guy is completely unreasonable, like he's taken some superfood, getting stronger every day.

"Could it be that Neos is the main character and I'm just a supporting character? That doesn't make sense!" Mordred, who was floating in near-Earth orbit waiting for his offspring to rescue him, couldn't help but question his existence.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with a solution and eventually had to give up.

This scene terrified Dorn and Magnus; they weren't so physically robust as to survive being blasted apart by Arctic glaciers.

An enraged emperor is terrifying; it's chilling to watch. Before, I only thought that my father loved me and I loved my father, but I never expected the old man to be so powerful. Is he even human?

Second brother, please don't die! What will we do if you die? You can't hit us!

Fortunately, Atlas knew that his Primarch had been suffering setbacks for a long time, and the Black Knight Guards were experienced in the process, so it didn't take long for them to rescue their father.

Having been beaten for no reason, Mordred was in an even worse mood. He lay sprawled on the ground, unwilling to get up, and could only pretend to be dead.

But while he could fool others, he couldn't fool the Emperor. Having just finished settling accounts with Macardo, he was furious. He took two steps forward, stomped on Mordred's buttocks, and even ground them down hard.
"You bastard, stop pretending to be dead. Since you created the Divine Seal, then cover the entire empire with it. If you can't do it well, you can forget about being a war general and get out of here on the Great Expedition."

Mordred, who was still trying to find an excuse, looked up and saw the Emperor's dark face. He had no choice but to agree.

"Tch, do you really think I want to be a war commander?"

"What did you say?"

"I say Your Majesty's insight is brilliant!"

The Emperor knew perfectly well that Mordred was a scoundrel who demanded bribes and kickbacks, but what could he do when Mordred was so good at making money? Without Atlas's exploitation, the progress of the network would be greatly reduced.

But this bastard ate way too much; he's completely stubborn and now he's stuck in two places at once. He can't use it or not, so we have to make him spit it out.

“You unfilial son, come with me. I have something to discuss with you.”

Seeing their good brother taken away by the Emperor, Dorne and Magnus didn't dare utter a sound, fully demonstrating what it means to abandon one another when disaster strikes. The young pony even showed early signs of rebellion.
"Dorn, do you think the second brother won't be removed from his position as War Marshal by Father? If that's the case, then I'll have a chance to become War Marshal too!"

"Are you sure it'll be your turn?" Dorn's words were as concise and clear as ever. Magnus was not the rightful candidate for the position of Warmaster, and even he himself knew that.

"Forget it, it's more suitable for my second brother to be the war commander. At least he can fight for the interests of the legion and receive a share of the profits every year. I don't want to be overshadowed by those mortals."

The two looked at each other in silence, both able to see the concerns in each other's eyes. After all, the Terra Council did not have Space Marine seats, and the Warmaster was the only position that the Legion could reach.

The reason Atlas could act with such impunity was not only because Mordred was the Imperial Warmaster, but because they allowed others to live as well as themselves.

Every day, a large number of refurbished and even Atlas-marked cargo ships fly to various legions, casting large quantities of World in secret cooperation with Atlas for smuggling and sales.

Regardless of whether these supplies are legal or not, whether they touch upon the truth of the Empire, or whether they are alien technology, they are still faster than those allocated by the Ministry of Military Affairs. They are characterized by large quantities, plenty of supplies, and even after-sales warranty.

After this shady business was legalized and formalized, the only one to suffer was the Martian Mechanicus. Not only did a large number of low-ranking sages flee, but the Martian headquarters also became a talent pool. It wasn't that no one had impeached Mordred, and many were unhappy with Atlas, but Master Mordred practiced physical diplomacy; people would instantly disappear upon approaching him, and he would grant them a seat in the Atonement Mech.

Moreover, among those who joined the smuggling ring were two members of the Terran Council from the Tranquil race, eight Great Sages of the Forging World, and four Primarchs.

Even the Mars oil enthusiasts, who were cursing Mordred while simultaneously seizing market share, secretly received a substantial bonus.

From top to bottom, everyone was one of his own. During his eight years as Warmaster, Mordred built a vast network of relationships that radiated outwards from the periphery of Tranquility, forming an unbreakable world of Tranquility 50.

Guilliman is said to be ambitious, but Mordred is no less so; he's even stopped acting.

"Forget it, Second Brother has done a lot of work, I'm hoping to join the clique and get a share of the money. But speaking of which, Dorn, would you be interested in putting sunscreen on me?"

Meanwhile, just as Dorn was contemplating whether to kill Magnus with a single sword strike, Mordred, who had been taken away by the Emperor, was not dismissed at all. Instead, she traveled to the palace in a shuttle and re-entered the underground hive.

Unlike the previous research institute, this time the Emperor led him into the core area, into the empire's most important secret.

Seeing Mordred's dumbfounded expression, even the Emperor felt a sense of satisfaction. Serves you right for looking down on this and that. Now you're scared out of your wits when you see my net!
To everyone's surprise, Mordred showed no envy whatsoever, only disdain.

"Old Huang, I must say, your mud-playing skills are truly exceptional. If I didn't know this was a mud road, I would have thought it was some savage's dirt road. All you've accomplished in all these years is this?"

Mordred was a worldly person. Even though the network built by the Old Ones had been in disrepair for many years and was dilapidated, one could still see its former glory. It was definitely a highway.

The network road built by the emperor was so poorly constructed that calling it a dirt road would be an understatement; it was so shoddy that it was practically just a roadside ditch.

But even the emperor has something to say. What level are those ancient saints at? What level am I at? It's good enough that they're useful, why be so picky?

"Shut up, you piece of trash! If you're so ignorant, don't spout nonsense. Have you even used a web interface?"

"Huh? You've used it before?"

The big, golden guy looked proud, even puffing out his chest, saying that he had not only used it, but also visited the former galactic capital with a good alien friend, and studied in that place called Comoros.

"So, you didn't go to the massage parlor, you came to learn the techniques!"

Upon hearing this, the Emperor immediately kicked Mordred and cursed:

"You bastard, you've been acting too cocky lately. Do you really think I'm that bad? It's because I've seen the internet that I'm convinced it's the key to human revival. I'll show you something good."

Following the Emperor's lead, Mordred arrived at a high platform and saw the treasure that Old Man Huang had called a good thing.

Countless pipes stretched downwards, then upwards from the network, piercing through the Himalayas, and finally connecting to a colossal throne.

The strikingly familiar golden shape startled Mordred so much that he blurted out:

"Holy crap, a golden toilet!"

(End of this chapter)