Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 324 Azniao: Open and Honest with the Lion!
Mordred had no idea how much of a change his scheme of switching the prince would cause, but even if he did, he wouldn't care.

He wasn't as unlucky as Zhuang Sen, and the place where he was shattered wasn't his peaceful hometown. Instead of thinking so much, he should eat and drink as usual and recover his strength as soon as possible.

After all, power is the only reason to be king. With Mordred's current strength, which is only enough to fight against pheasants, he wouldn't even dare to return to the Empire.

Who knows if, on his way back to the empire, a giant hand might descend from the sky and snatch him away?

It's one thing if Old Man Huang appears, but what if it's one of those four? With Mordred's small frame, he'd be captured and enslaved!

The filthy fat man is alright except for his stench. As for the treacherous birdman, well, ever since he regurgitated Carlos, Mordred has been missing his good brother. If they could rekindle their romance, it would be a wonderful thing.

But if it falls into Slaanesh's hands, Mordred will have it for life.

Even Mordred was glad that he had completely deleted his account back then. If he had accidentally left a trace that Slaanesh had picked up, he might have been exploited for 1 years and turned into Purple Mood Teeth!
Surely no one thinks Slaanesh is just about lust, right? The most important thing is the word "slaanesh." Just thinking about it makes Mordred feel a tightness in her anus. Even if she's in a good mood, she might still suffer the ultimate humiliation.

As for the kobolds, although they are the most normal in comparison, Mordred is the one who least wants to be captured by them. After all, it's a messy situation, and he can't be their creator, master, friend, offspring, and enemy all at the same time.

Upon closer examination, this relationship is even more complicated than that between Johnson and Luther.

This is only the external cause; the internal problems are an even bigger mess. Mordred is now just a figurehead with the title of Primarch but no Primarch power. He doesn't even dare to contact Tom. His appearance now is just harming them.

Think about Prison Eleven. Without power, they would only be captured and used as ruthless breeding machines. Blood Raven simply cannot withstand such malice.

Therefore, Mordred's best course of action right now is to continue acting, gathering information while secretly indulging in some warp snacks to build up her strength.

Even when stealing food, Mordred didn't dare to be reckless. He had ended up like this because of his gluttony, so he had to maintain a balanced diet.

"But isn't this taking a bit too long? Is Azmo's Star Language communication reliable? Why not use the Divine Seal Network?"

Hearing the Primarch's urging, Azmodari put down the fried chicken in his hand and explained, "Your Highness, please don't be anxious. The aftershocks of the Great Rift have not yet dissipated, and the Chapter Master is definitely on his way here. This is normal."

I sent someone to send a telegram every 13 hours, and the news of your return to the Empire must have reached you.

Regarding the Divine Seal Network you mentioned, the Divine Seal Spire in the Alfred system has long been shut down. It was dismantled and fragmented 1700 years ago as spare parts to supply the Solar System.

Azmodan's words once again refreshed Mordred's understanding. Back then, he had spent countless resources to lay out the Divine Seal Network. It was one thing that you didn't continue laying it out, but you didn't even have the ability to maintain it.

"Sigh, I'm not surprised at all."

But then again, back then, many foundries had production workshops to replicate the Divine Spire. But then again, given the brain-dead mentality of those tech enthusiasts who wanted to hide all the good stuff, sharing technology was simply impossible.

I remember there's a foundry on the Loyal Oath, right? Take me there now.

Mordred glanced at Azmodan's incomprehensible gaze and kicked him.

"What are you looking at? Do you think I'm just a barbarian who knows how to wield swords and spears? The reason I became the Imperial War Commander is because of my extraordinary wisdom!"

"Your sullen face makes me angry! What are the Ironwing Sky Army doing? They haven't even preserved such important technology. I reckon you've probably forgotten the Icarus Protocol."

"What is the Icarus Protocol?" Upon hearing this, Mordred smiled with relief. One of the original intentions of the First Legion's establishment was to curb the rampant growth of the Mechanicus.

The Icarus Agreement not only included the First Legion, but also the Iron Hand and Atlas. The three legions planned to limit the Mechanicus and gradually infiltrate and erode it.

But now this task has been forgotten. Luckily, I'm not the real Zhuang Sen, otherwise if he knew, he'd probably slap me to death.

Following in Azmodari's footsteps, Mordred not only shared this ancient knowledge with them but also recounted how powerful the First Legion had been.

As the conversation went on, the topic began to veer off course, with Morred expressing his dissatisfaction with the current Dark Angels, especially the abstract actions taken by Johnson after learning of his disappearance.

Although they wanted to say that Your Highness was insulting himself, the dark angels were all ashamed when they saw Mordred's incessant rant.

This feeling of shame quickly disappeared because Mordred assigned them new jobs.

Because of Fera's incompetence, even though he invented the Spire of the Gods, Mordred could no longer distort matter with his will to achieve the miracle of creating things from the void as he had done in the past.

But this is fine too, since there's nothing else to do anyway. Mordred can take this opportunity to teach them how to build the Divine Spire, as for whether they can actually learn it.

Morey said it was no problem. "I can even teach Oglins to count. Even if the Space Marines are stupid, they can't possibly not know how to build a Hyperspace Communications Spire by hand, right?"

Three days later...

"TOM! Lazarus, have you been kicked in the head by a donkey? Connection node 73 has been offset by one nanometer, that's a whole nanometer! If your eyes are useless, you might as well donate them."

And you, Felice, with such a grand name, anyone who didn't know better would think you were the Primarch of the Iron Hand. Are you blind or crippled? Turning the reactor power up so high, are you trying to blow your own head off and become a headless senior?

Beautiful! Does it feel a little numb in your hands? You idiot, you didn't disconnect the power. If I see you messing around again, I'll break your legs and stuff you into the Redemption Mech to cosplay as a yellow weasel.

"What do you mean I can't insult His Majesty? Then let me ask you, how do you know the weasel is cursing the Emperor?"

Mordred has a phobia of stupidity, but her tendency to be a know-it-all mitigates this. The only price is that these dark angels are constantly being scolded and occasionally kicked.

But for the Dark Angels, this punishment might actually be seen as a reward.

Another month passed in this shift-based life in the foundry workshop, and a miniature divine imprint generator was finally successfully built, allowing Mordred to finally play video games.

Meanwhile, Azrael finally destroyed all non-existent data about that non-existent event and led the Dark Angels to the Alfred system.

As they drew closer and the Loyal Oath became visible to the naked eye, even after destroying all the evidence, Azrael couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

After all, that's a lion! The ferocious lion king that even the elders who have survived to this day find hard to describe. I hope he won't smash my head with a single punch.

"Commander, the connection has been successfully established. You may begin your journey now!"

"Ezekiel, do you think I can walk to the other side alone?"

(End of this chapter)