Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 348 Terra is still a bit too urbanized (8K)

As one of the empire's traditional arts, rewarding those who have contributed to the war is absolutely essential.

The way to reward merit is also very simple and people-friendly: a victory parade is held, people are promoted and given titles, and if conditions permit, the planet's inhabitants are given a few days off or some good food, so as to achieve the effect of sharing the joy with the people.

Although this way of celebrating may sound low-class, similar to giving out rice, flour, and oil during festivals, it is the most simple and unpretentious way to unite the people.

On the other hand, it also served as a deterrent, preventing some fools from taking advantage of the chaos to cause trouble during years of great disaster.

The war against Baal lasted for two and a half years, and nearly 3 billion people were lost on Baal's home planet alone. At most, only 1 billion people with good arms and legs remained, and they were mostly the elderly, women and children.

As for the outer Hades sector, it was even more tragic. After all, it was the main battlefield, and the enemy was the Tyrannosaurus, an alien that would eat and take everything. More than half of the population of the entire sector was wiped out in an instant.

What's even more hellish is that because the population base was instantly halved, the residents of the sector no longer had to worry about food. Even the local governors who were supposed to be punished by Mordred lost a large number of lives on the front lines of the fight against the Zerg.

If you were to say how insane those regional governors were, they certainly were. But if you were to say they were disloyal, they could also hold their ground when the swarms arrived, and their entire families could be loyal to the country.

It's abstract, but that's what an empire is like—a dilapidated house that's rotten to the core, but if someone dares to kick it, countless burly men will spring out and kick you in circles.

But the frontline soldiers only need to focus on fighting, while the three Primarchs have much more to think about in terms of how to deal with the mess in front of them.

Fortunately, there were the Ultramarines, a group of politically savvy young men. After the Tyranids were defeated, Guilliman immediately sent his men to every world to maintain stability.

Dante, the seasoned veteran, lived up to expectations. Unlike the others, he didn't berate the Ultramarines for their ambitions. Instead, he got the Blood Angels to cooperate actively.

As for Mordred, he returned to his old ways, using his 182 Atlas as the backbone, and drawing technical sergeants, grease gunners, and a company from the three legions to recycle scrap metal.

We'll use the salvaged supplies to repair and rebuild the starport, and then bring over those abandoned ships floating in space for a second reconstruction.

Although Mordred possesses both striking beauty and extraordinary wisdom, even the most skilled cook cannot make a meal without ingredients, and the head of logistics cannot create something out of nothing.

It's impossible to completely refurbish a spaceship; it's practically scrap metal now, with its keel broken into several pieces. Instead of wasting time and effort on refurbishment, it's better to embrace the spirit of the Greenskins and create a heavily modified, knock-off version.

The general idea is that after recovering the wreckage of a cruiser, you can create a destroyer and still have some left over. Then you can use the resources from one ship to make up for the losses and slowly accumulate enough to build a ship.

Even the scrap materials that are completely unusable won't be wasted. After all, they are materials used on warships, so their quality is guaranteed. After being recycled, they can be used to repair ground vehicles and even space fighters...

What about those damaged ground vehicles and infrastructure? They were directly converted from military to civilian use. A Leman Russ chassis was used to make a tractor, Knight remains were used to make construction machinery, and even the Titan Power Claw was taken off by Mordred and turned into a bulldozer.

In short, as long as you don't give up, there are always more solutions than problems. Making do is better than having nothing. Even a shell casing can be turned into a kitchen knife by Mordred. She is a master of thrift and frugality.

Master Mo has the skills, but what troubles him is the lack of manpower. The group of technical sergeants and oilers who were transferred here lacked skills, or rather, they lacked status.

According to the Martian altar's class system, only those who become sages can be considered human; everyone else is considered consumable. Most of these tech lads belong to the craftsman class, a class of beasts of burden above slaves and below humans.

Now that a Primarch is personally instructing them and even intends to recruit apprentices, it would be foolish not to cling to such a powerful figure. The two sides immediately hit it off.

The two Primarchs and Dante were indifferent to Mordred's cannibalism, since Atlas was now dwindling in population, and this was a form of compensation for their brother. Moreover, there were their own technical sergeants among the apprentices, who could also learn some skills.

Seeing that his good brothers all had something to do, Johnsen felt he had to show off, so Guilliman arranged a good job for him. His job was simple: the Great Purge.

Letting Lion King manage logistics might be a stretch, and asking him to handle tasks would be asking too much of him, but when it comes to a major purge, Lion King is definitely the right fit.

Anyone who dares to take advantage of the chaos and cause trouble will be shown the true value of the Empire's premier terrorist mobile unit.

Even if you wanted to hide it, you couldn't. You have a little secret? What a coincidence, we Dark Angels love little secrets the most. If you admit it, fine. But if you dare not admit it, the private room in the Rock Fortress is open to you. Let Azmodel go.

Mordred just happened to be short of experimental subjects to create machine servants. They wouldn't even be allowed to die; they'd all be turned into machine servants for labor reform.

Guilliman was overjoyed to meet Mordred and Johnson. With these three young punks together, he had everything he needed: logistics, administration, and military strength, not to mention the Imperial Guards.

In terms of personality, they are quite complementary. Mordred is cunning and treacherous, Johnsen is ruthless, Guilliman is ambitious, and even Dante is a wise and experienced man. It can be said that a group of wise men and women, young and old, have gathered together.

Perhaps feeling that the efficiency was not fast enough, the four immortals discussed it and then had their subordinate Astartes transform into a civil engineer. They told him, "You bunch of silly sons, stop wrestling passionately in the Duel Cage and cosplaying as Dark Tong Dawei. Get out of here and beat the ashes."

In this vibrant state, where everything seemed to flourish, the Hades Star Region regained its production capacity in just six months.

Especially with Mordred's technical support, the starch production machine that once earned Atlas his first fortune was recreated. While the food wasn't the best, at least everyone could have enough to eat.

The security situation is beyond reproach; it's considered a small matter that no one picks up lost items on the road. Everyone is saying that the Primarch's kindness can never be repaid, and that Commander Dante is a virtuous man who saved the collapsing edifice.

Don't ask why the security situation is so good. Anyway, Mordred's servant production line has been expanded into a factory, and they've started to innovate, turning the servants into flesh-and-blood mecha girls.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, after half a year of frantic infrastructure construction, a victory parade was launched, with a small-scale military parade held on the Barrens.

The happiest person at this kind of celebration, instead of the Holy Blood Angel, was the Dark Angel. In fact, Azmodel didn't want to participate at first, but then Mordred gave him a thorough dressing-down.

"Kid, are you stupid? Why do you have to force me to slap you when everyone else is happy? You're not proactive in showing off, there's something wrong with your thinking. Now is your time to shine, but you're backing down."

What? Do you think we should be the guardians behind the scenes, the loyal protectors of dark secrets? This kind of mentality is typical of trying to suffer without experiencing hardship.

You guys are just despicable. I even suspect that Dark Angel has been genetically modified by Perturabo. You're just indulging in self-pity. No, you're not even as good as Pepe. At least Pepe learned his lesson after I beat him up.

Speaking of which, it reminds me of that idiot Luo Jia who actually established a state religion and became its pope! That brat flying around in the sky makes me sick to my stomach. When I catch her, I'm going to beat her until she peees herself out.

After being thoroughly berated by Mordred, none of the Dark Angels' high-ranking members dared to speak. They actually wanted to go up and show off, but they were even more afraid that the Lion King would not allow it.

Mordred was speechless at this cowardly behavior of wanting something but not daring to touch it, but he couldn't vent his anger because he knew why.

Despite being called the Angels of Death and being super-cyborgs, the Space Marines are essentially a bunch of brats, each with their own set of personality flaws.

After all, they were teenagers when they underwent the transformation, and then they started fighting and have been fighting ever since. They are just like Magnus, possessing strength and wisdom but lacking a normal set of values.

"Something's not right!" Mordred suddenly realized something was amiss. He thought to himself, "If you're going to be so conflicted, why are you looking for me? Shouldn't you be looking for Zhuang Sen?"

Mordred instantly understood that these canned goods weren't brainless, but rather too intelligent. They didn't dare to talk to Zhuang Sen, but that didn't mean they didn't dare to talk to him.

Sure enough, Mordred looked up and saw those pitiful puppy-like eyes, which made him laugh.

"Sigh~ I really can't do anything with you guys. Tsundere is outdated. Now, directness is the way to go. Come with me, I'll take you to your parents."

"Yay! Second Uncle, you're the best to us."

"It's forbidden."

Bringing this group of problem children to Johnson, Mordred's subtle and persuasive writing left the Lion King bewildered. He had never experienced anything like this before; Luther usually managed the legion's internal affairs for him.
"Am I really that bad in your eyes? I'm not some barbarian. Just tell me what's going on. It's not like I'm going to smash your heads in."

"Pfft."

"Who? Who's laughing? Nemir, I heard you. You were just like this 1 years ago. If you dare to undermine me again, I'll smash your head in."

Upon hearing this, Zhuang Sen couldn't help but laugh at his own unconscious remark. If it were ten thousand years ago, he might have continued to be a saint, taking pride in the saying that loyalty is the greatest reward.

But times have changed. It was this arrogance that caused the Dark Angels to erupt into civil war. He didn't want to repeat the same mistakes. He just wanted the Dark Angels to return to their peak and, incidentally, to find and avenge the bastard who blew Caliban to pieces.

"Get out of here. Go wherever you want, but remember we are the First Legion, the big brother of all legions. Show our might and don't embarrass me."

Upon hearing this, the group of dark angels scattered like birds and beasts. Compared to their previous cautiousness, Zhuang Sen was more satisfied with their current relaxed demeanor.

And so, a victory parade unfolded in Bar, with the four legions entering in turn amidst cheers and shouts from the crowd.

Then Guilliman and Dante were stunned, because they discovered that there were their own people in Atlas's phalanx, and the paint wasn't even dry yet.

"Isn't this my Second Company Commander?" ×2
"What do you mean, your second company commander? I won't say anything if Dante is young, but Guilliman, have you been fooled by that Eldar girl? These are clearly my offspring, I am their father."

Dante was speechless, Guilliman had something to say but couldn't utter it, and only Johnson watched from the side with a sinister look on his face, his smile more difficult to suppress than a blaster.

[That's it! That's exactly the feeling—wanting to curse but unable to. No one can escape the rain I've been caught in, hahaha.]

Excluding Hakimi, who has become a comedian, the entire parade was still quite remarkable, but none of that matters. What matters is the rewarding of those who performed meritorious service after the parade.

As a powerful melody began, the Lion King took the stage first, pulled out a list, and began reading it aloud. Everyone whose name was called came forward to receive their medals from Mordred.

The entire awarding ceremony lasted a full four hours, and Space Marines, Astronauts, Planetary Defence Forces, and even Planetary Governors' Construction Pioneers were among those honored.

Then came the investiture ceremony, which was presided over by Dante, the local lord, who bestowed titles upon a series of young nobles.

After all, the Battle of Baal resulted in heavy casualties, with local officials either dead or wounded, and the Dark Angels had cleansed them from beginning to end, leaving plenty of positions available for reassignment, making it the perfect time for a major reshuffle.

Don't think that spending a fortune to buy horse bones is mercenary. On the contrary, in an empire, a regime that embodies all the dregs of humanity, this is the most efficient system and can greatly boost the morale of the people.

After all, putting everything else aside, would you take the position of county magistrate if I offered you the job? If you offered me the position, Corgi would be grinning from ear to ear. Let alone county magistrate, I'd be willing to take the position of mayor even if you offered me the position of mayor.

There's no way around it; the Bal people are just too eager to progress.

With the investiture ceremony concluded, the last to appear was Guilliman, the Regent of the Empire.

Guilliman lived up to expectations, much like his father, and began with a long and tedious speech. If it weren't for the large number of public toilets built in advance, the entire 13-hour speech might have made people burst to urinate.

Even so, everyone listened patiently, simply because Guilliman was not only eloquent but also offered tangible benefits.

The first step is to assert sovereignty, stating that the area around Baal and the Underworld is a sacred and inseparable part of the Empire, and also a bridgehead for the Dark Empire.

For this, the Blood Angels will receive a series of privileges, the most important of which is that they will not have to strictly adhere to the Codex Astartes and will be promoted from chapters to legions.

All eligible young men who survived this battle need no further testing; your actions have already proven your loyalty to the Empire. You can all enlist and become part of the Holy Blood Angels.

After relaxing the restrictions on legion organization and conscription, Guilliman also liberalized fiscal and tax policies, granting the Hades region a full 100-year special tax exemption, and bestowed upon Dante the title of High Lord of the Blood Angels, establishing the Provisional Government of the Second Dark Empire, which was governed by the Dark Regent.

If this treatment were given to Huron, he would probably be laughing in his sleep. Unlike Dante, he has no desire to be a regent in the shadows or a great lord; he just wants to retire.

Taking this opportunity, Guilliman also promoted the Primal Forging of Space Marines, which was not mandatory but entirely voluntary. However, he also said that those who underwent Primal Forging could receive a batch of matching equipment from the Ultramarines.

Upon hearing this news, Dante was the first to sign up, since the original forging process had a mortality rate; those with poorer physical condition were more likely to die, as were those whose bodies were too old.

Dante saw this flaw not as a flaw, but as the perfect way to retire. Now he had fame and achievements, he had done right by the Legion, by Baal, and by the Empire, and he could finally die.

Then Dante, lying on the operating table, saw Mordred walk in from outside:
“Nephew, in principle, given your treatment, you should at least let Kaur perform the surgery. After all, he is the pioneer of this kind of surgery, while I am a novice and this is my first time performing surgery.”

"No! Second Uncle, go ahead and do it. I like beginners. You can use me as a practice subject. I won't use anyone who isn't a beginner."

Upon hearing this, Mordred was even a little moved. If he hadn't confirmed that Dante wasn't his son, he would have wanted to kidnap him. He immediately unscrewed the syringe and injected the medicine into Dante's body. "Second Uncle, what is this? Why do I feel dizzy?"

"This is an anesthetic I mixed myself. There's a special story behind it. It's a specialty from Nukelia, and even when I mix it, the production is extremely limited."

This anesthetic is all-natural, green, and pollution-free. As long as the dosage is controlled properly, it will absolutely not have any impact on your body. I wouldn't normally give it to just anyone.

"And don't worry, nephew, your second uncle's skills are top-notch. Just based on what you said before, I guarantee I'll cure you completely."

"Huh?" Dante suddenly panicked. He knew that Prince Mordred was quite knowledgeable about mechanical modification. Although it was a bit inappropriate, his style of doing things was quite like that of a greenskin. But why do you know this?

But Dante soon felt at ease, because Mordred, after dissecting his own body, was shaking his head and sighing:
“Nephew, your health condition is indeed not optimistic. As an Astartes, you have high blood pressure, diabetes, hypoglycemia, kidney failure, bone marrow necrosis, apparent death, meningeal degeneration, heart necrosis, muscle atrophy, Lariman organ dissolution, and even your cell activity is weaker than the skin on my foot.”

This is a sign of premature aging. It means you drank enough Fel Essence before and replenished yourself properly; otherwise, let alone undergo Primal Forging, you probably wouldn't even live for a few years.

Dante laughed, a completely open and honest laugh. Every symptom Mordred described excited him greatly, perhaps because lying on the cold operating table, he could already see the little angel with wings coming to guide him.

"Father, is that you?"

"What? I didn't give you any other medicine. You silly child, why are you talking nonsense? Your father is Saint Gilles, and I'm your second uncle. Wait, what's this?"

Following Dante's gaze, Mordred sensed a peculiar energy fluctuation, so faint that it was almost imperceptible without careful observation.

Based on the characteristics of the genetic seed, Mordred suspected that this energy fluctuation originated from Saint Gilles.

If this energy fluctuation were even slightly stronger, Mordred could confirm it, but this energy fluctuation was far too weak. Even if Mordred tried his best, he could only see a blurry ball of light.

To find out more, Mordred extended her tentacles and physically connected to Dante's body. After ensuring that Dante would not be consumed by her own thoughts, Mordred indeed saw a familiar figure—a super miniature version of Sangilius.

"Brother, are you still alive? You've truly become an angel! Can you say something?"

Unfortunately, the mini-angel remained silent in the face of Mordred's greeting, flapping its wings like a human-machine interface, pausing occasionally as if experiencing high network latency.

After waiting for a full half minute, the little angel in front of her suddenly moved, slowly floating to Mordred's head. It pulled out a large knife from somewhere, waved it a couple of times, and then disappeared, leaving Mordred completely bewildered.

Even so, Mordred noticed something amiss, because the greatsword the little angel pulled out was none other than his Ashbringer, the only difference being that a skull floated on the spine of the sword.

However, Ashbringer has already disappeared. According to Mephisto, this relic disappeared 1000 years ago, and the only one to visit Baal at that time was Blood Raven.

But Blood Ravens denied stealing it, and even accused the Blood Angels of imprisoning their chapter commander, thus ending the complete falling out between the two chapters.

Limited by the scarcity of information, Mordred was unable to reconstruct the historical truth and could only keep it in mind, hoping to explore it again after recognizing Blood Raven as a relative in the future.

"Wait, what did I just do? Oh no!"

Seeing Dante foaming at the mouth and starting to grow mycelium, Mordred quickly retracted his tentacles, picked up an adrenaline stick, and stabbed him.

"Ah, Second Uncle, I think I had a dream just now. I dreamt that I was running on a grassland, and a lot of short-legged dogs were chasing me. They made me hand over all my belongings. After I handed them over, they bit me and said that I was too tall and they wanted to bite off my legs so that I would become as short as them."

"Oh, this is all an illusion! Dreams are always the opposite of reality. You must be too tired. Go get some sleep."

"Will my second uncle die?"

“Death? You’re insulting me. It’s just premature aging. Back in the day, I saved that unlucky guy Danteok from dying of old age.”

At this point, Mordred glanced again at the mycelium on Dante's body and quickly comforted him:

"Don't worry, I guarantee you'll come back safe and sound. You won't even be able to die if you wanted to. Remember to drink plenty of water and, most importantly, get plenty of sunshine."

Dante was a little confused, and then he saw the clumps of white hair growing on his body, which startled him sober, and he struggled to get up from the operating table.

Mordred, however, was not about to let him get away. If he were to escape, his reputation would be ruined. So he immediately increased the dosage and administered a full dose of anesthetic.

Nustar Technology is truly awe-inspiring. With just one dose of anesthetic, not only Dante, but even Angron would collapse instantly.

Mordred wasn't lying. Others might be horrified by Dante's condition, but once in his hands, death was impossible. He quickly and successfully completed the surgery, even adding some ingredients using life alchemy, turning Dante into a knock-off Greenskin Blood Guard.

After incorporating a bit of Mordred's mycelium, Dante wouldn't die even if he didn't eat or drink; he could survive as long as he basked in the sun and drank some water.

After doing all this, Mordred kept her accomplishments hidden and even thoughtfully left a small note, reminding Dante to drink more water, get more sun, and eat less salty food in the future.

After all, Mordred still has many surgeries to undergo.

Just when everything seemed to be going well, the 13 golden decrees finally reached Baal through the Star Speakers' relays and were delivered to the three Primarchs.

After reviewing the 13 military orders, Mordred's first reaction was that they were fake, and Johnson also thought they were fake after reading them. Only Guilliman said that they were real.

"No, I've become Yue Fei?"

Who is Yue Fei?

Lion King genuinely didn't know who Yue Fei was; after all, this was ancient Terran history, something a barbarian who grew up playing Monster Hunter in Caliban wouldn't understand. But Guilliman did, and immediately explained:
"Yue Fei was a war general of a dynasty during the ancient Terra period. That dynasty's territory spanned a quarter of the solar system, but unlike the empires of today, the ancients did not have large and small warlords fighting each other within the solar system."

Yue Fei is famous because he was exceptionally skilled in combat, much like you, my elder brother, and also exceptionally loyal, much like me.

At this point, Guilliman couldn't help but sigh, "It's a pity that this general Yue Fei was born at the wrong time. The emperor of the dynasty he lived in was particularly incompetent and tyrannical, and he trusted a treacherous minister. You don't need to know who that treacherous minister was, he was the kind of person like Makado."

Zhuang Sen understood immediately. Makado, that old bastard, is cunning and doesn't seem like a good person. He's clearly an old man who pretends to be weak while actually being strong. If you insult him, he'll hit you on the head with his cane.

"What then?"

"Later, Yue Fei's military achievements overshadowed his master. He was advancing triumphantly and killing the enemy without leaving a trace, but others still labeled him as ambitious."

Could Yue Fei have been ambitious? He couldn't have been ambitious. He was just being slandered. Like me, he was clearly the most loyal minister of the empire, yet he was being gossiped about behind his back.

Aside from Ultramarines, my name is always red in front of other warbands, is that right? That's not right!

Kirimanbo was clearly deeply empathetic, but Lion King didn't want to hear it. Being a red name in front of others was entirely your own doing. People would shoot you first if they wanted to take a shot. Who can you blame for that?

"and after?"

"Later, this war general was recalled to the capital by 13 military orders, and was killed on a pretext. Moreover, not only was he killed, but his spirit was also destroyed!"

"To kill someone, you must first destroy their spirit? Then I understand, I am the War Commander!"

Mordred could be said to have witnessed the birth of a fabricated story, but what was abstract was that this fabricated story was quite consistent with reality, making him extremely embarrassed, so he kicked it:

"You don't understand anything, or rather, you do understand, but that's still not right. I feel like all you've remembered are the words 'Commander of War,' but none of that matters. What matters is that this is a trap."

Mordred regretted saying that as soon as she did.

Sure enough, Guilliman's eyes lit up instantly, and he looked at Zhuang Sen with longing, muttering something under his breath, about to make up that damned anecdote again.

"Stop, Zhuang Sen, don't ask me what the Feast at Hongmen is. I'll explain it to you slowly in a moment. As for Guilliman, shut up. I don't want my ears to be tortured by unofficial history anymore. Now let's turn the topic to Yue Fei. Uh, no, not Yue Fei, but Xing Yu. Don't you guys think this is weird?"

Zhuang Sen nodded, indicating that it was indeed strange. Didn't they know who I was? How dare they order me around?

"Yeah, even if someone is stupid and dumb, they wouldn't call us to Terra to interrogate us, right? This must be a conspiracy, and when it comes to conspiracies, nine times out of ten it's that thing."

"You mean... Tzeentch—"

"That's right, this is based on my experience. If you feel like you've been set up, then there's no doubt that you have been set up, and the mastermind behind it is most likely that blue slime monster."

"Was all of this planned?"

“Smart, I feel that you are different now, Zhuang Sen. You have shed your barbaric nature and become as wise as I am.”

"Really? But Vulcan wrote in his diary that I was a savage."

Mordred immediately swore to God that you actually believed Vulcan. What kind of decent person could a diarist be? How could he possibly write his innermost thoughts in his diary? In any case, my little secrets would never be written in my diary.

Watching Johnson and Mordred rambling on and on, battling wits with thin air, jumping from the Chaos God to Vulcan, Guilliman couldn't take it anymore. He slammed his fist on the table, declaring that it was real.

Upon hearing this, Zhuang Sen and Mordred immediately burst into laughter: "Impossible, absolutely impossible! Don't they know who I am? I'm the tax chief. Atlas has killed more aliens than humans. Zhuang Sen, who do you think you are?"

“I am my father’s sharpest blade, the head of the counter-terrorism unit who specializes in dirty work, and the most respected elder brother to everyone.”

"Big brother!"

"Second brother!"

"Hahaha, we are the god of civil war!" ×2
"Stop laughing, stop laughing, it's all true. Those people are really stupid, and I'm the stupidest of them all. I'm the one who formed the High Lords Council!"

The more the two laughed, the more Guilliman broke down, and he began to complain bitterly about how difficult things were for him, how he was being targeted, and how he couldn't even carry out a purge. He said that if he made any move, the Empire's historical code would completely collapse.

Guilliman's emotions were completely genuine; he was nowhere near as magnanimous as the two savages beside him, and it was precisely because of this that he felt even more pain.

Logically speaking, as the older brothers, Johnson and Mordred would certainly comfort Guilliman and show a friendly and respectful brotherly demeanor.

But that's impossible. After all, one is a laid-back, carefree person, and the other is a ruthless killer who'll fight anyone who disagrees. Both Mordred and Johnson were kids who played survival games in the wild, and both were rebellious.

Now you're asking them to emulate Guilliman? That's putting the wrong people in the picture. You'd be better off having Vulcan, since he's known for being a kind and gentle man.

"Guilliman, are you a piece of trash? They've gotten so arrogant and you're still putting up with it?"

"Exactly, you piece of trash, how dare you say that? If it were me, if he dared to call me Lion King without respect, I would have shot him eight times in the back the next day. What kind of bullshit logic is this? Why should good people be targeted?"

"You're just too soft-hearted and overthink things. The empire is a cesspool, but how rotten can it get? But don't worry, now that we're back, no one can bully you."

After helping his good brother up, Mordred picked up the 13 parchments, his hand igniting with a vibrant green flame that instantly reduced the toilet paper to ashes.

“That’s right, we’re back. No one can bully you except us. They’ve come with ill intentions. Since that’s the case, let’s play along with them.”

Yue Fei was a good man. I, Mordred, can't be Yue Fei, so I can only be Huang Chao.

"Terra is still a bit too urbanized."

(End of this chapter)