Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 161 The Second Empire Gains Another Great General

Due to the unique nature of the Randan aliens, the Dark Angels and Atlas had to suppress the news and eliminate as much information as possible about the existence of the Randan Empire.

This caused Atlas to be delayed for a long time and fail to keep up with its Primarch.

After tallying the number of fallen soldiers, the loss of supplies, and the distribution of various spoils of war, Goff, who was finally able to rest for a while, sailed the Abomination to Barbaros with Brian.

Accompanying them was Atlas's planetary terraforming ship, meticulously built by combining the strengths of many different designs.

These giant ships, modified from modern-day battle barges, are equipped with a complete production line. A single ship can transform a primitive planet, rapidly advancing it into modernization and establishing a comprehensive basic industrial system.

It is another masterpiece produced by Atlas to compete with the Mechanical Ark. Although it is certainly not as awesome as the Mechanical Ark of the tech enthusiasts, it has the advantage of being high quality and low price, and it is characterized by its large quantity and satisfying taste.

Upon arriving at the planet, they only saw the 14th Legion fleet hovering at the edge of orbit, along with the Imperial Dream, and did not find their father at all.

I could only sense that Mordred was very weak, as if he was enduring some intense pain, and he kept muttering strange things that I couldn't understand, I couldn't understand them at all.

Even after Goff and the others met with Mortarion, the Primarch did not know where they went.

"The last time I saw your father was at the return ceremony, and then the Emperor and Mordred disappeared. It's been half a month, and we still haven't found him."

And it's not just you who's looking; even that group of glittering corn spirits are searching for it.

"No way? We clearly sensed that Father was on the Dream Ship."

Atlas, possessing a mental network, could roughly sense Mordred's exact location and immediately rushed into the Imperial Dream to search for him. Even the Imperial Guards didn't stop them, as they also wanted to find their own emperor.

Following the signal, the group quickly arrived at the door of a secret room. As the door opened, two dazed, burly men rushed out.

Looking at Mordred, who was covered in filth and had bloodshot eyes, and the Emperor, who was equally distracted, everyone was curious about what had happened inside.
"Father!"

"His Majesty!"

"Shut up! Don't ask any more questions, or I'll send you all to Qatar to watch toads baring their teeth! Old Huang, something's not right, this is definitely not right. Did you destroy the stuff?"

"It's destroyed! It's completely destroyed now! We've finally escaped that curse! Hahaha!"

No one knows what happened in that secret room. Mordred won't tell, the Emperor won't tell, and no one will ever know this blasphemous secret.

Perhaps it was because seeing Mortarion reminded him of that image of a loving mother nurturing her child that the Emperor immediately sped away from the Chamber of Secrets in his Dream, leaving Mordred to help the fourteenth prince.

In those short fourteen days, the two seemed to be trapped in a bizarre cycle. Every time their memories were erased, they would relive the previous experience. If no one discovered this, it might continue forever.

Mordred, who was dragged back to his lair by his offspring, was also in a bad mood. He hadn't had his memories erased during his last reincarnation, and he was prone to overthinking. Now, his mind was filled with Nurgle's Nako. He slumped on the sofa, crying and laughing, and it took him a long time to recover.

Seeing that their original body had finally returned to normal, the company commanders came forward to ask their father what had happened.
"It's nothing, don't ask anymore. The water here is too deep, I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it. But if you're really curious, I can show you a picture."

As soon as she finished speaking, a camera popped out of Mordred's chest, and after a few sobs, it produced a photo—a super clear, unedited version.

Half an hour later, the group that had undergone memory erasure returned to the bridge, their faces ashen as if they had eaten shit. The photograph was locked in the warehouse and sealed with Atlas's seal.

During the two weeks that Mordred was mentally tormented, Mortarion's takeover of the Legion went very smoothly.

Unlike the original timeline where the Legion was plagued by internal strife, Mortarion, having learned from his experience distributing pay at Mordred's training grounds, had mastered the art of winning hearts and minds. Coupled with the Emperor and Warmaster's support at the return ceremony, the Twilight Raiders officially became the Death Guard.

The most important reason for this is that Mortarion has not yet established the Barbarus Resistance Army, which has fundamentally eliminated factionalism. There are no treacherous ministers, only loyal ministers, and everyone is a trusted confidant.

Even so, there is still one major problem troubling Mortarion.

Just like his often-mentioned tenacity, Mortarian liked to do things practically. His personality was the complete opposite of Peturabo's, who was obsessed with saving face and suffered for it. He just wanted to make sure the Barbarus were well-fed.

However, this seemingly simple question proved to be a challenge for the Death Guards.

For nearly half a century and 76 years, without a principal body to command it, the 14th Army Corps, which had some of the characteristics of the Imperial Guard, followed the Emperor in his campaigns.

You can ask them to conquer a planet, and they'll conquer an entire star system for you. But asking them to manage a group of starving refugees is indeed a bit much. After all, when they fought alongside the Emperor, all they needed to know was who to kill; logistics and supplies were the responsibility of the Ministry of Military Affairs.

As for Barbalus, although it is a cesspool, it has nearly 7000 million humans. Due to its limited level of development, the old farmers of Barbalus have extremely low levels of education. If you dragged a junior high school student from Ningjing over here, he would not be a highly educated person, but a prophet.

I don't know which genius came up with the idea, but they simply drew an empty space, gathered these 7000 million people together, and built a huge concentration camp. Coupled with Barbarossa's poison gas, it was quite reminiscent of the ancient Terra Germanic style.

Despite being seasoned veterans, this was the best solution they could come up with, and many of them were as naive as children.

They were conscripted into the legion when they were still teenagers, and then underwent 19 modification surgeries, which fixed their thinking and logic at that age. After that, it was an endless battle. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call them child soldiers.

As for Mortalian, you're asking a big guy who's been abused by aliens since childhood and only knows how to fix tractors and eat corn after six months to do this job? You might as well let Karas manage him.

The reasons for this situation are actually determined by many factors, and each legion has its own strengths.

For example, the Imperial Fist of the Cute Ones, these large lemons are particularly good at assault battles, and together with the Steel Warriors of the Little Bees who are good at positional warfare, they are known as the Civil Engineering Duo.

However, on the other hand, it wouldn't be bad to let these two legions manage people's livelihoods, since as long as they do civil engineering well, their management skills will definitely be strong.

Don't you see Mordred's past life as General Plywood? With a budget of 100 dollars, he could manage to bribe his superiors and subordinates, get the job done well, and even embezzle two dollars to build himself a big villa, while still getting paid as a lowly soldier.

The Death Guard Fleet's supplies were simply not enough to feed 70 million people. Looking at the group of hungry Barbarus farmers, the seven company commanders were dumbfounded; they had never encountered such a problem before.

They exchanged a glance, and Galo, the company commander of the 7th Assault Company, was kicked out and sent to report to his father. As for why Galo was given this thankless task, well, he was the least experienced and the youngest!

Someone came up to him and said, "I even mentored you when you were a new recruit," and he didn't even have the guts to refute it.

Perhaps there really was some mystical element to it; just as Garo was reporting, Mordred arrived at Mortalian with the entire Atlas management team:
"Xiao Mo, you're still too young. I, your second brother, have been through the harsh realities of society."

Goff, go show our 14th Prince what real farming and management looks like. He should learn from him and watch carefully. I'm only demonstrating this once. You're going to be my Minister of Agriculture in the future.

"By the way, who's this young man? He looks very upright with his thick eyebrows and big eyes."

Upon hearing Mordred mention him, the rookie recruit Garo instantly stood at attention and, after receiving approval from his Primarch, immediately gave Atlas's signature salute:

"Reporting to the War Commander, I am Nathaniel Garo, the Seventh Company Commander of the Death Guard—hey ha, long live the Empire!"

"Good, you're very energetic. Here, Uncle has a gift for you."

Amidst the puzzled gazes of the crowd, Mordred pulled a jet-black power sword with silver inscriptions from behind his back and placed it directly into Garo's hand.

The moment Galo got his hands on it, he knew this battle blade was no ordinary weapon, and Mordred's description echoed in his ears:
"This item is called the Black Sword. It was forged from materials that I accidentally picked up from Old Man Huang's treasure vault. It will be awarded to the legion champions of each legion in the future. The last person to receive this honor was Sigismund, the first company commander of the Imperial Fist."

"Ah, this is so precious, why bestow it upon me?"

He patted the other person on the shoulder. Mordred certainly wouldn't mention that he had bought your plastic figurine in his past life, nor would he mention that he still had eight black swords in his inventory. He could only put it another way:
"Because you are loyal!"

"Me, loyal?"

“That’s right. As the saying goes, an elder brother is like a father. Mortarian is my own brother. You must protect my brother at all times and never let him go astray. In particular, you must not let him develop any special habits like drinking milk. Absolutely not!”

Upon hearing this, all the Death Guards looked at their Primarchs. Mortarion was completely bewildered, thinking that he couldn't even get enough to eat, so where was he going to get milk? He couldn't just grab a cow and suckle it, could he? Besides, Barbarus only had two-headed cows for plowing.

Mordred had been talking nonsense for quite some time, but no one paid any attention, thinking it was just a little joke from the War General.

Feeling that the time was about right, Mordred snapped his fingers, signaling everyone to look up at the sky.

With the roar of engines, a dense array of transport ships streaked across the sky, descending from behind Mordred. The planetary rift beams, thick as divine punishment, tore through the mountains, completely reshaping the landscape of Barbarus and melting it into various types of steel that could be further processed.

"Welcome to the glory of managerial democracy, Mortarian. Are you interested in joining my Second Empire?"

"Second Brother! I've long been a member of the Second Empire!"

(End of this chapter)