Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 85 Sibyl, Sibyl, Loyalty! (3k)

Tax collection is a technical job. It requires not only identifying and addressing loopholes and sorting things out from multiple perspectives, but most importantly, it requires strong military force.

In terms of force, Mordred believed that Atlas was still quite powerful. As for the various sorting out, Macado had already sent over the list, so he just had to kill according to the list. Why bother with so much else?
He now understands that the Emperor, that dog-donkey, not only wants the Space Wolves, the internal security force, and the Dark Angels, the counter-terrorism force, but also the Atlas, the tax-collecting army.

To want all three, to try and control all three—with the Emperor's intellect, Mordred believed he couldn't have come up with such a scheme; it could only have been the cunning and treacherous Macado.

What's even more outrageous is that he suspects that being given the title of War General was also part of Macardo's plan, and that the Emperor was just a mouthpiece used to relay messages.

Even from a darker perspective, besides managing logistics, Atlas's main business is the production of weapons, which, even before it has expanded significantly, highly overlaps with the Cult of Mechanics.

"Damn Makado, was this also part of your plan?"

"What plan?" The Emperor's innocent question only convinced Mordred that this was indeed Macado's scheme.

"Get lost, you useless Haki Huang! As the ruler of humanity, you can't even govern the empire properly. Go sell your hooks!"

Mordred took out the execution list given to him by Macardo and sent it into Atlas's internal network, urging his offspring to quickly paint it blue.

Every family that has grown powerful and influential in Holy Terra, the capital of the empire, is clean. Killing them all would surely mean there are innocent people who have been wronged, but killing every other one would inevitably leave some traitors behind.

Before Hagi Huang finished his game, Mordred, fearing another beating for no reason, personally led a group to begin Atlas's hunting expedition.

Before leaving, Mordred glanced at his wristwatch. It was December 12th, 845 M30 in the Terran calendar, a perfect time for a great purge.

The first thing they did was to seal off the area, preventing even a single insect from leaving Terra. Seeing these tall, blue-armored warriors take over the starport, some quick-thinking individuals began to realize that something was wrong.

But only death awaited them!

With the Emperor and Macado's approval, the Imperial Navy, which was originally defending Terra, was transferred away, and even the bailiffs all retreated back to their barracks. After all, why risk their lives for a few hundred dollars a month?

The first to engage in combat were not the Space Marines, but rather the Spartan squad, which was developed from the descendants of numerous merchant ronin. These family members, who had been merchants for generations, knew the nobility best and were experts in the field.

Mordred knew he hadn't done anything good and it would definitely arouse the suspicion of some people, but what could he do? After all, the Empire was a military government that valued strength above all else; as long as it was strong enough, there wouldn't be any problems.

As for the so-called retaliation, that's a joke. Anyone who dares to retaliate against the Imperial War Marshal is no ordinary insect and must be dealt a heavy blow!
The once magnificent dome of the city was now stained with blood, and the noble people who were fleeing in all directions had lost their former composure.

If you surrender obediently, you might get a baton from the police. If you dare to run, six batons per second is not the limit of Atlas. The .75 caliber explosives will give you endless surprises!
Perhaps it was the sight of the towering giant standing nearby that made the nobles feel at ease, and they began to spontaneously seek protection from Mordred's irresistible charm.

"Your Highness, those Ultra Warriors have gone mad! They dare to open fire and slaughter the citizens of the Empire! You must do justice for us!"

“That’s right. I saw through those bumpkins from Otlam a long time ago. Such ambitious people are bound to be a great scourge to the empire.”

"Oh! You mean my brother Guilliman is also an ambitious man?"

The nobleman who had spoken earlier immediately stated that His Highness Guilliman was definitely right, and as for why Ultra Warriors appeared in Holy Terra, it must be because someone wanted to frame him.

“That’s right, someone is definitely framing us. I saw it myself just now. The paint on these Space Marines wasn’t even dry yet. As for the smaller Spartan warriors, everyone in the Imperium knows them, except for Ning Jing…”

The nobleman who had been speaking eloquently fell silent. Everyone was watching him, including Mordred, who was looking down at him.

"You just mentioned tranquility, right?"

"No, no, Your Highness, you must have misheard. What I meant was that I must go to Ningjing for a vacation someday. Ningjing is so wonderful, I dream of going there!"

Being stared at by a giant metal figure nearly 4 meters tall, clad in heavy black armor, was incredibly oppressive. Fortunately, Master Mo couldn't stand the sight of blood and wouldn't smash the brains of these insects with a single punch; that would be such a waste.

Mordred casually grabbed the collar of the talkative nobleman, still wearing that kind smile, but the more amiable he was, the more terrifying he became.

"The fact that you guys managed to escape is entirely because your crimes don't warrant death. After all, I'm not a bloodthirsty person. Remember to hand over the embezzled tax money. One portion goes to the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and the other to me. Do you understand?"

Who wants to die when they can live? Hearing that they still had a chance to live, the nobles nodded repeatedly, and even spontaneously suggested that one gift was not enough. To celebrate His Highness's ascension to the position of War General, they would certainly present him with a grand gift.

"Very well, you are indeed loyal subjects of the empire. I appreciate your kindness, but I have one more thing I need your help with."

I know your capabilities; otherwise, you wouldn't be here alive. Since you want to be loyal subjects, then expose everyone you've implicated. What's that saying again? Loyalty that isn't absolute is absolutely disloyal. But I like to appoint people based on their connections. So, who do you think should get those vacant positions?

Now that things have come to this point, even if these imperial nobles are complete idiots, they can understand Mordred's meaning: since they're going to die anyway, they might as well sell out their teammates and take a gamble, going all the way with this imperial war commander.

As more and more people exposed themselves, from the Terra Council to the Hive City gangs, everyone was implicated, even revealing the Martian Mechanicus's smuggling of cold goods (Aliens).

Some things are as light as four ounces on the scale, but once they are, even a thousand pounds can't withstand them. It's not just corruption; even the Imperial Navy has cases of smuggling weapons and receiving salaries without working.

Mordred had only one word for dealing with these people: raid their homes and silence them!

"Brian, get out here and shoot those traitors disguised as Ultramarines. Then bring them one by one to pay me a visit. Whether Atlas can establish its glory depends on this!"

Upon hearing the greeting, Brian quickly gave an Atlas salute, completely disregarding his blue paint-covered body. But if you say he wasn't serious, he even drew a bullet mark on his forehead with colored pen. Yet if you say he was serious, Brian knew to use a fake identity, only Tom's.

Mordred grabbed the talkative nobleman at random. He was very impressed with this man, as he was the one who implicated the highest-ranking people. He even implicated four members of the Terra Council.

The thought that half of the supplies looted by these insects should have been his made Mordred tremble with rage. He dragged the little insect toward the location of the councilor's family.

In just one week, Atlas personally arrested 370,000 imperial nobles and nearly 65 million unnamed henchmen.

Moreover, this purge is showing signs of intensifying, starting from Terra and gradually spreading to the entire solar system, hunting down those insectoids who dare to embezzle tax revenue.

For Mordred, even granting them death was an act of mercy; after squeezing all their value out of them, becoming slave laborers and machine servants was their only fate.

In order to concentrate the loot, Atlas even had to establish a storage point on the moon to take inventory of the supplies. However, even when the lunar continental shelf was about to collapse, the loot was still being transported to the moon in a continuous stream.

After extracting resources and looting during expeditions, Mordred discovered a new way to make money. This raiding was much better than the expeditions; it was a huge windfall, enough to feed him for three years straight.

Looking at the densely packed cargo holds that covered the entire lunar surface, Mordred and the rest of the Atlas cheered with joy. This was all they had painstakingly plundered over the past three years.

"Brother, we're rich!"

"Yes, we finally have the resources to realize Atlas's dream. When that happens, everyone will be using our Atlas weapons, and we will be the towering giants of the Empire."

I've already planned it all out. There are a few desolate planets around Tranquility. I'll transform them into forging worlds: one to produce Titans, one to produce Knights, and the remaining one to manufacture power armor for my Frame.

As for the business of recycling used military supplies, I can't give it up either. Those damned oil thugs dare to steal my business; I'll show them what it means to be the best at Atlas Technology.

But as she laughed, Mordred realized something was amiss and looked at the person who had spoken to her:

Horus, when did you arrive?

At this point, Horus finally realized one thing: his brother was not only not very bright, but also had poor eyesight. The huge Soul of Vengeance had been hovering in lunar orbit for half a year, and he hadn't even seen it!
“I came when you were cursing your father, Haki Huang, but well done. If you can really complete that plan, then the Legion won’t have to rely entirely on the Mechanicus.”

What, is there something wrong with what I said?

For some reason, while staring at Mordred, Horus suddenly felt an itch on his neck, as if he were about to be punched in the head.

This inevitably reminded him of what Forgrim had told him about his experience, saying that his brother was extremely skilled at sneak attacks from behind and was a crazy guy who could fight his father hand-to-hand.

However, after six months of observation and understanding, Horus still believed that Mordred was a very good brother, and the reason for this situation must be because the world he landed in was too cruel.

Especially after Horus realized that Mordred was a complete idiot, all his jealousy vanished, and he even felt a pang of regret.

After all, it's not honorable for a Ferrari to win a race against a Xiali!

Seeing Mordred still staring blankly at him, Horus felt it was time to strengthen their brotherly bond, so he quickly moved closer and asked, somewhat shyly:
"Brother, Leon already told me, do you still have that thing?"

"Oh, you mean?"

Yes, that's it!

(End of this chapter)