Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 197 Sending a Telegram to Sevita
The Atlas people, who were assembling their troops, were completely stunned. Half of the empire was covered by noisy interstellar signals, and green-skinned orcs were rampaging everywhere.

This only covers the expeditionary fleet and remote worlds without Divine Spire. Orc invasions have already occurred in Euclius, which is located next to the Tranquil Sector.

As the saying goes, "An army marches on its stomach." Atlas was in charge of logistical support, with most of his legions scattered throughout the Empire, picking up scraps from behind the expeditionary force.

Moreover, the legion was already small in number, with only over 40,000 people so far. Only three Dalians remained in their hometowns due to different divisions of labor, and the sudden appearance of orc aliens brought them right to their doorstep.

"I'm sorry, Little Ma. I hope Guilliman won't be late. Things are much tougher here than they are there. You have to trust Guilliman!"

Seeing Octarius in complete disarray, Mordred was speechless. She immediately had the Star Speaker send a message to Magnus, hoping he would stay strong.

Because of the Greenskinned Orcs' tendency to grow stronger as the war intensifies, the best approach is to take advantage of their weakness and cripple them completely, ensuring they don't have a chance to engage in a disastrous battle.

The vast green-skinned army that is now covering the Empire has proven that the green-skinned people have evolved to a certain extent and at least have the ability to travel between stars. This is no longer a small-scale battle against ordinary aliens. We must strike hard!

As expected, as soon as the interstellar communication was sent, Mordred instantly received battle reports from various legions. Everyone else was already fighting, and even the Krieg world on the edge of the Sun Starfield had discovered green-skinned orcs.

What's worse, multiple orc legions appeared near the heartland of each legion, indicating a planned and premeditated full-scale war, while Tranquility only had a lone orc scrap mothership.

The Midnight Lord, who remained in Terra, rushed to Nicaea to stop the orc army. He was facing at least two orc battle moons and was now in a frenzy, frantically sending messages to his second brother to come and support him.

Chemos's green-skinned beast horde has even broken into the core world of the sector, and a large number of giant orcs over 5 meters tall have been discovered, and the most brutal urban warfare has begun.

In contrast, the fire salamanders' home planet, Nocturne, was so harsh that the orc army glanced at it and ran away, and even the greenskins looked down on it.

But there was good news: the fire salamanders were on their way, and Mortarian, far away in Barbarus, had even sent him a telegram through the Star Speaker.
"Second brother, wait for me! You must hold on! The Death Guard will arrive in just seven days."

Whether Guilliman is reliable or not is unknown, but Mordred believes that Mordred is definitely a reliable person. When the two legions work together to kill these greenskins, they can free up their time to support the other legions.

Looking at the red scars scattered across the empire, the four Heavenly Kings in the command center were quite worried. They were supposed to be the logistics support, but they were unable to transport supplies to the front lines. The entire empire was in chaos.

Then they heard their Primarch suddenly turn from sorrow to joy and burst into a satisfied laugh.

Why is Father laughing?

"Why are you laughing? I'm laughing at that Brother Gao's lack of strategy and Brother Mao's lack of wisdom. As long as Little Mo's heavenly soldiers and generals arrive, they will form a pincer movement with Atlas. The mere orcs are nothing but a stubborn skin disease."

"Don't panic. Look at the state of yourselves. Don't underestimate us just because we are few in number. We have nearly 10 Spartan troops maintaining order in the sector. We Atlas are not afraid of a war of attrition."

"Goff, how many Imperial fleets remain in the sector?"

"72, 43, 87, 106, and counting the 315th Army Group which is currently resting and replenishing its personnel, there are a total of five fleets in the sector."

Don't be fooled by Mordred's usual laziness and lack of strategic thinking. He's not afraid of anyone when it comes to controlling the battle situation. Does he really think Atlas is just a second-class private hiding in the back, transporting supplies?

"Your teeth have been underestimated!"

Seeing the orcish scars scattered across the empire, Mordred, as a decision-maker, did not hesitate and made the same choice as Magnus, issuing several military orders in succession:
"Order Atlas Eighth Company to lead the 72nd, 106th, and 87th Expeditionary Fleets to attack Chemos. Make sure to protect the surrounding Industrial World. After joining up with the Imperial Son's remaining forces, Tom, you must support the Midnight Lord as soon as possible."

"Send a message to Koz, no, to Sevita: I don't want casualty figures, I only want Nicaea. Even if they wipe out the Legion, we absolutely cannot allow a single orc to enter the Sun Sector." "Roger, Father!" Tom turned and left without hesitation upon receiving the order, even though it would force two naval fleets and his own Eighth Company to face the main orc force head-on. An order is an order.

“Brian, you will lead Atlas I and the 43rd and 315th Armies to launch a surprise attack on Prospero, and I will give you another 3 Spartan garrison troops.”

That idiot Ma took all the resources and went on a wild spree. The remaining men can't hold them off at all. Your job is to stall, stall until the main Imperial force returns to defend the interior.

"What about Ning Jing?"

"I'm here." A figure stepped out from the crowd. When most people saw this figure, which was almost identical to the Imperial Fist except for the paint job, they were wondering, "Who is this guy?"

"I am Rivière!"

Since Mordred returned to the Legion, he has been relegated to the lowest ranks, now serving as the seventh company commander. Liverier is practically a nobody within the Legion. Not only new recruits, but even many veterans of the Legion don't recognize him. He lives like an urban legend.

As one of the civil engineering duo, Levier did not follow the Atlas aid to various legions like Company Commander Gawain, but instead spent nearly half a century building defenses in the Tranquil Sector.

Mordred valued his offspring highly, and at least a quarter of Atlas's financial expenditures were poured into this defensive line, all of which were managed by Liviel.

With such a massive amount of resources piled up without regard to cost, no one can break through this impenetrable defense unless they are besieged by three legions at the same time.

"Father, with our Seventh Company here, not even a fly can get into the sector, let alone an orc. Our Maginot Line is absolutely unbreakable."

While enjoying the spotlight, Livermore did not notice that after he named the defensive line without permission, his father's eyes suddenly sharpened, and green light began to glow on his large hands.

"You all go assemble the troops. Livermore, stay here. I have something to tell you."

After all, they're not some lowly emperor. The unfortunate kid is almost a hundred years old, so we still have to save face for him.

When only the two of them remained in the command room, the door suddenly slammed shut. Before Levier could even speak, Mordred launched a massive attack.
"Why did my father hit me! Was my performance not good enough?"

"..."

"It's nothing, I just noticed a mosquito on your forehead. Your father knows you're an honest person, and the name Maginot is a bit unlucky, so let's call you The Last Wall instead."

Don't argue with me. If you dare to argue with me like that stinky rock Dorn, I'll be pulling out my belt, and then you'll only be able to choose stars and blocks.

His gaze lingered on the sturdy leather belt for a moment, and in the end, Rivière realized that his father was right. As far as he knew, there were various feudal superstitions in the civil engineering industry as early as 3 years ago.

It seems that whenever a major infrastructure project is underway, some reclusive masters are invited to perform rituals. It's better to believe in these things than not!
"Good boy, now it's time to test your hard work over the years. The Seventh Company is our reserve force, you absolutely cannot move. The task of guarding the home base is entrusted to you. I'm going to meet those green-skinned bastards who are courting death."

With Mordred's order, the long-dormant Atlas began its maximum mobilization, while at the same time, Peturabo, far away in the Pacific Sector, finally received the battle report that the heartland of the Empire had been attacked by aliens.

"Olympia has fallen? Oh no, my sister is still there."

(End of this chapter)