Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 337 Drink it, and this is your inevitable fate!
In this dark and profound galaxy, only war is eternal.

As one of the most well-established founding orders in the current empire, the Blood Angels did not fully comply with the "Astari Codex" written by Guilliman, but instead bypassed its rules in a very clever way.

And this method was none other than the reserve force of 20 troops that Guilliman had just turned around and brought out back then.

Thanks to Saint Gilles' good reputation back then, even though Yellow Skin, whose biological father was less educated than the old giant shark next door, was quite fond of Old Nine, even though he couldn't speak human language.

Centered on Baal, the entire Hades sector can be considered the domain of the archangels, a kind of country within a country, much like the 500 worlds of Alteramar.

In addition, thanks to the billions of dollars in subsidies and aid from Atlas back then, Baal was not a radiation wasteland like in the original timeline. Apart from being a bit poor, the environment was quite good and he was completely self-sufficient.

The High Lords would certainly not agree to the existence of such a state within a state. The Empire does not have only a million Space Marines; rather, the Council can only control a million Space Marines.

After Guilliman went into slumber, the first thing to be cut was the Ultramarines, who were dismantled more than the air inside a Lay's potato chip.

But where there's a will, there's a way. The various chapters, having realized the Empire's decay and corruption, began to take various countermeasures, such as cooperating with the Cult of Mechanics as students, the Black Templar's never-ending expeditions, unarmored reserve soldiers, and even the bizarre operation of using dogmen to embezzle funds and start their own separate organizations.

Ironically, in the early stages of the Great Crusade, all the legions preferred to recruit soldiers in the Dead World because recruiters believed that the soldiers selected from such a Dead World were stronger.

But what's abstract is that the recruitment methods of each legion are quite bizarre. The Wolf Legion holds some kind of ancestral trial, the Blood Angels have to walk across the Death Desert, and even the kind-hearted Black Uncle has to hunt fire lizards.

Space Marines during the Great Crusade were not as valuable as they are today; they were essentially common soldiers, considered expendable.

This conscription model is completely unscientific, or rather, it's all about suffering for the sake of suffering, just like the messed-up state of the empire.

But this recruitment model was soon changed, especially after the Ulanor Expedition, because other legions saw Guilliman's amazing operation, losing 10 Space Marines and then producing 15.

In that era of large-scale warfare, the number of personnel was everything, and various legions carried out reforms, including the Holy Blood Angels.

However, with the issuance of the Codex Astartes, this more efficient recruitment method was reverted. It's not that the current Astartes are inferior to the veterans of the expedition; on the contrary, the individual quality of the current Astartes soldiers is actually stronger than it was back then.

This is determined by the mode of warfare. One is a massive army war, and the other is special operations involving internal security and small-team raids. Large-scale, head-on national wars like the Randan War are rare, or practically nonexistent.

But if you throw today's canned food and canned food from 10,000 years ago into a battle royale, nine times out of ten the survivors will be Legion veterans. This result is counterintuitive, but it is true, because modern Space Marines have a common characteristic: they are more like Atlas.

However, this is the opposite. It possesses the dullness of the Imperial Fist, the chaotic fighting of the Iron Warrior, the mindless boarding of the Emperor's Son, the sluggishness of the Ultramarines, the slow reaction of the Salamander, the savagery of the Space Wolf, the arrogance of the Iron Hand, and even the astonishing wisdom of the Thousand Sons, complementing the left and right hemispheres of Hydra.

It's a perfect example of how counterinsurgency warfare can ruin a country. Despite having excellent individual soldier skills, once the scale of the war expands, they resort to abstract tactics.

This is why Johnson and Mordred suddenly appeared in Baal and were the first to take command.

Because of this long-standing counterinsurgency campaign, the Empire has never fought a full-scale war like this before, and it can't even fight one if it wanted to. The High Lords dare not send the legions back, and the young men are also disappointing, making foolish mistakes at every turn.

But not anymore. With the Great Rift unfolding, the Empire split in two, both now in the dark side of the Empire. I don't care about high lords or anything like that.

Moreover, Mordred, the most severe father of the Imperial officials, has already written these swarms of insects into the Book of Hatred. Upon returning to Terra, the first thing he must do is kill them, launch a purge, and bloodily cleanse Holy Terra and the Solar System.

As for Zhuang Sen, needless to say, Space Wolf is at least a military policeman, while Dark Angel is directly an anti-terrorism force.

With these two ruthless individuals present, Dante felt he had never had such a wonderful start in less than a week.

It felt amazing to have someone tall supporting us. With the arrival of the Dark Angels came not only 1 Space Marines, but also a powerful fleet led by the Unbreakable Truth.

But what pleased Dante even more was that his eccentric second uncle, Mordred, had taken over the Blood Angels' logistics with the help of his 312 seemingly dim-witted cousins, and had even transported a large amount of supplies. And that wasn't all; with the arrival of the Stone Fortress, Mordred's foundry began operating around the clock, further expanding the garrison's armaments.

The transport ships that were urgently dispatched carried loads of supplies to the Giant Stone Fortress, and then transported various supplies downwards. Their efficiency and cleanliness, like the extreme efficiency of an ant colony, were a sight to behold for the Holy Blood Angels.

The Dark Angels found this naiveté amusing, even though they had been like this not long ago.

As the Zerg fleet drew ever closer, a dark shadow gradually spread toward the Hades sector. The eternal hunger that devoured everything drove many psykers offline and insane, attracting numerous chaos demons, which Mordred feasted on.

Thanks to the generous contributions of his fellow Warp dwellers, Mordred was able to construct the Fel Furnace.

Mordred's original intention was to summon offspring. The war destroyed Atlas, but Atlas did not perish. The souls of people like Goff, Brann, Gawain, Rumble, and Chiarand are still alive.

But he can't summon it now, because the relic containing Atlas's soul is not on him; it's hidden in the most dangerous yet safest place.

Even so, it was enough. With the Fel Furnace, Mordred didn't need to deplete her own Fel energy reserves. Thanks to the generous contributions of her fellow Warp dwellers, a large amount of Fel Crystals were put into the fermentation tank to create Orange Pulp and poured into Elemental Bottles made from living demons.

The quality is definitely not as good as handmade ones, but at least they can be mass-produced and one can be provided to each Astartes. The only drawback is that the Tyranids don't have many souls to absorb, but that's not a problem. As long as war breaks out, there will be plenty of dead people.

As for whether others will be offended by this, Mordred will not reveal this little secret. Besides, the Holy Blood Angels have already drunk blood, so they probably won't care about this defect.

The only thing that annoyed Mordred was the space necromancer beside him:

"I advise you not to even think about stealing my foot bath water. Even if you're a space necromancer, you can still be corrupted by fel energy. And as a necromancer overlord, it's one thing to be a complete waste, but what are you doing following me around like that?"

Zarasuza snorted coldly. Having contributed a full 8000 troops, this undead overlord was allowed to remain in Baal under the alias "Motorcycle Guy." Faced with Mordred's warning, he reluctantly put down the fel crystal.

"I am not good at fighting. I am an artist. Back in the day, my paintings were famous throughout the empire and were sought after by many."

"And what about your masterpiece?"

"I failed the exam."

"Pfft."

Such blatant mockery ignited a surge of anger in Zarasusa, but he quickly suppressed this strange, inappropriate emotion and continued following Mordred around.
“You born evil Star God cub, you can fool others but you can’t fool me. You’re more eager for war than anyone else to break out so you can satisfy your appetite.”

"Shut up, old Deng. If it weren't for your worthlessness, I would have dismantled you and sold you for parts long ago. And let me correct you, I'm not a god!"

Ignoring the tagalong, Mordred and his good brother walked to the front of the stage. Below them were Holy Blood Angels, Dark Angels, and a mixed army of 312 Atlas warriors, each holding a cup of Fel Essence.

Even though it wasn't the first time he'd seen it, the viscous green liquid bubbling with eerie bubbles still made Dante feel physically uncomfortable.

But Mordred didn't care about that, and directly scooped a full cup from the large pot in front of her and handed it to Dante:
"Drink it, and this is your inevitable fate!"

"Then, Your Highness, what is the price?"

"As handsome as me!"

(End of this chapter)