Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 378 The kindness of the Grand Commander can never be repaid in this lifetime.

The Astartes is the Emperor's masterpiece; the Imperial Guard should have the guts to compete on cost-effectiveness.

With the Chapter having failed in the family reunion and being physically confirmed by Mordred as the son of Corax, the Maneater's plans have essentially been thwarted.

Because of its obscurity, the Man-Eating Shark mainly operates in the Ghoul Sector, a remote and desolate area on the frontier of the Empire, a dark and chaotic space where all sorts of monsters and demons gather, even more frenzied than the Great Vortex.

Poverty permeates not only the entire Shark Chapter, but also the reality for most smaller chapters.

Moreover, unlike those warbands that are completely broke, such as the Malicious Warriors that everyone hates and despises, the Manhunter isn't that poor. The warband has a lot of good stuff, but the key is that they can't use it. What they're really poor about is basic equipment.

Take Tiberius, for example, who was a figure even among the founding chapters. He single-handedly wiped out the entire warship and even killed off the Tyranids that were entrenched inside.

With a single scratch, it ripped three large holes into the tyrant's head.

If you ask why Tiberius's martial arts skills are so high, it's entirely because he was forced into it. He didn't want to fight in close combat, and he wanted to pull the trigger and go all out, but the key is that the man-eating shark had to count the number of explosives it fired.

The power armor worn by the chapter members is even worse. It's patched upon patched, and another year has passed with repairs. Some of the power armor is even leaking air, making it impossible to fight in space naval battles. When Mordred saw this, he thought they were paying homage to the Thunder Warriors.

As a chapter leader, Tiberius was poor at governance and was no match for those ambitious Ultramarines—who were not only incredibly wealthy but also bossed them around.

But for the sake of the Warband, Tiberius had no choice but to grit his teeth and fight on the edge of the Holy Codex, surviving on grey taxes and stealing gene seeds.

This isn't something only the Manhunter's warband does; rather, it's become a kind of unspoken rule, even known to the Terran Council, but they ultimately turn a blind eye as long as no one defectes.

So when Mordekaiser prepared to rebuild Atlas, these struggling little warbands flocked to Holy Terra like sharks smelling blood.

If the warbands were well-off, who would want to rely on a random patron? It's all about making a living.

However, the reality is cruel. Atlas's nature makes it impossible for them to be poor. They can make a fortune just by working for traveling merchants and ronin. The poorer the warband, the less likely they are to have Atlas. They are all hiding in the early motherboard.

If that were all, these small warbands would probably have gone back to where they came from, since it would be impolite to bring them to Holy Terra, and they might even have been dismembered. But a military order brought a turning point.

The ambitious Guilliman somehow produced 50 Primarch Space Marines, and these new generation warriors came from all the Legions. After discussing with the other three Primarchs, he decided to reorganize the Legions.

The gist of it is that you guys shouldn't leave either. This new generation has just torn off the oil-paper coverings from their bodies, they're fresh off the press, and they need the veterans to lead them.

Tiberius understood that this was the so-called surrender, the benefit of their immediate advance to defend the king, and the best opportunity for their small battle groups. They were even given a choice.

The Gray Shield was divided into four fleets: the first fleet followed the Dark Angels to sweep through the Solar Starfield, the second fleet followed the Ultramarines to guard Holy Terra, the third fleet was under Atlas's command and moved out of Tranquility, and the fourth fleet remained in reserve.

There seem to be four choices, but there is actually only one.

Needless to say, the Dark Angels were split up by Lion King himself. Even though the Dark Angels became a warband, the mother warband treated the warband commanders of the child warbands like company commanders. Not to mention, Lion King couldn't tolerate any impurities, and none of these people were clean.

Ultramarines have it easy and are incredibly wealthy, but they have a bad reputation. The Scripture of Astartes was written by Guilliman, and the worse off they are, the more they resent this toilet paper.

As for the reserve force, forget about it. Even if these small warbands are incompetent, they are still Space Marines, and they would rather die on the battlefield than cower in the rear.

Therefore, there was only one option: the Third Fleet under Atlas's command.

Tiberius was quite impressed with this Second Primarch, who was good-looking, powerful, and even fiercely protective of his own.

After all, those who can associate with Blood Ravens are hardly good people. The Manhunter, Red Scorpion, Malice Warrior, Minotaur, Mantis Warrior, Death Shroud, Flesh Tearer, and Lamenter—any one of these chapters is universally hated. As for why the unfortunate Lamenters ended up on this list, it's simply because nobody wanted them. Only Mordred refused to believe in such superstitions and insisted on including them in his fleet.

Now, Tiberius was incredibly grateful for this choice. His Highness Mordred had not disappointed them, showing them ample patience and care.

After a while, they even discovered that Atlas was far more wicked than they had been in the past, and Tiberius himself had witnessed those blasphemous things more than once.

These actions, if taken outside, would definitely attract the attention of the Inquisition, but for Atlas, they were commonplace. Even the presence of the Inquisitors wouldn't help; Atlas was truly capable of beheading an Inquisitor in the street.

Not only that, Atlas was unwilling to even act anymore. The Abomination, a ship that could practically be considered alive, floated in the sky, aliens were served on the dinner table, and even demons were captured and given a good beating. Those that didn't die were kept as pets, and those that died were burned as crystals.

This is the primordial gene; even if it does nothing, its mere existence speaks volumes.

Despite their spoiled and arrogant nature, and their reckless behavior, Atlas felt incredibly close to Tiberius, offering them the strong support they had always desired but never had.

Looking at the thick and reliable Centurion armor on his body, he realized that such a good thing was something he would never have dared to dream of before, but now that Atlas had been rebuilt, it was something he could see and touch.

This is not an isolated case, but a widespread phenomenon. Those old and dilapidated Indomitable Terminators that we were reluctant to use have been rebuilt, and the ordinary power armor has been replaced with the latest Mark X.

There are plenty of explosives, plasma weapons are issued directly, chainsaw swords are a given, and even rare items like power weapons can be obtained through military merit, or even customized.

You can have a power axe or even a power club if you want. The guy next door, who works on the Death Shroud, exchanged his points for a power club and now carries it around the streets every day to show off.

This is just the standard equipment. Atlas has everything, including nuclear rocket launchers, meltdown flamethrowers, incendiary machine guns, and even automatic hounds he's never seen before, and he never hides them.

Individual soldier equipment is diverse, and heavy equipment is not bad either. The old Dawn's cast iron fearless upgrade has completely liberated those elders who were buried in stone coffins. They no longer have to endure nerve torment and can even play games online.

If Atlas hadn't restored the Dreadnoughts to be pilotable, someone might have severed their limbs and gone inside for a bit of fun.

Although it was called a fearless mech, it was more like a small knight. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that with the addition of the Third Fleet, these small battle groups were not only not split up, but became even richer.

Tiberius didn't understand why he was getting richer and richer with each battle, but he knew who was giving him all of it.

In the words of the President, you will undergo the most rigorous training and enter the most brutal battlefields, but you will also have the most reliable equipment and ample logistical supplies.

The days of firing one bomb at a time are over. While precision strikes are good, Atlas believes in heavy firepower coverage.

From now on, Atlas will be your strongest support. Get rid of all the bad habits you've developed. I only have one requirement for you: victory!
The Death Shroud has stopped its rampage, the Flesh-Tearer has stopped eating people, and even the Malice Warrior has remembered the glory they've somehow abandoned. As for the Man-Eating Shark…

Tiberius knew he could never go back. Here, he could command the Knights, the Titans, and even the warships were in his hands—something he had never dared to dream of before, but now it had come true.

Such kindness, such generosity, such trust—even knowing it's just a ploy to win people's hearts, what can we do? His Highness even celebrated a group birthday for us during a dinner party, giving us small cakes.

Tiberius had seen it all in his life, and he wouldn't even blink if asked to take on a Chaos Demon one-on-one. But he had never seen anything like this before, and when he was dragged in front of everyone, he couldn't utter a single word.

Since they've gone to such lengths, what else can I do? I must repay the Primarch's kindness; I can never repay Lord Mordred's favor in this lifetime.

"Reporting to the Chapter Commander, the Primarch has ordered all commanders of company rank and above to assemble for a meeting. He has also ordered you to assemble the chapter first and send men to garrison Angustrom. A new round of major operations is about to begin."

Upon receiving the order, Tiberius instinctively raised his hand, revealing a sinister smile, and shouted:
"Heh heh, I will certainly live up to the great leader's expectations!"

(End of this chapter)