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Collins was rebuffed but didn't get angry. He knew that the Imperial Guards were tight-lipped, and getting anything out of them was harder than climbing to heaven.

"Hehe, when I see His Majesty, I'll definitely try my best to win him over," Collins thought to himself.

"This kind of delicious food is unforgettable once you've tasted it."

The golden figures of the Royal Guard appeared throughout Terra, with the Royal Guard, rarely seen on ordinary days, mobilized in full force.

The Pope of the Imperial State Religion, the Minister of Military Affairs of the Empire, the Minister of Justice of the Empire... these important figures who could shake the empire with a stomp of their feet on ordinary days were all standing respectfully at the gate of the palace.

They didn't even dare to speak loudly.

"I wonder what the reason is for this urgent summons?" The Minister of Military Affairs of the Empire asked his colleague in a low voice.

He was usually decisive and ruthless, but at this moment he could not hide his unease.

"Who knows? But that apple I just ate..." The Minister of Justice of the Empire rubbed his stomach, a look of lingering satisfaction on his face, "It's amazing, I feel more than fifty years younger!"

“Yes, I feel like I could review ten years’ worth of documents in one go!” The Pope of the Imperial State Church chimed in. He was usually eccentric, but now he was full of energy, as if he were a completely different person.

The high lords exchanged glances, all seeing excitement and anticipation in each other's eyes. It seemed that this summons from His Majesty must mean something good was about to happen!

Just then, a roaring sound came from afar, and an ancient-looking aircraft pierced the sky and landed steadily in front of the palace gate.

"The Mars Forging General has arrived too!" someone exclaimed.

You see, this guy is a complete tech geek. He's only interested in researching ancient technologies and has no interest in anything else. Unless the emperor himself orders it, no one can get him out of the laboratory.

The hatch opened, and the Mars Forging General strode out. He wore a red robe covered with various complex mechanical structures and circuits, making him look both mysterious and majestic.

Unlike the other high lords, the Forging General did not show much surprise or excitement. He merely glanced at the crowd before turning his gaze to the tightly closed palace gates.

As the last high lord arrived, the palace gates slowly opened, and the iconic golden figures of the Imperial Guards appeared before everyone.

The high lords took a deep breath, straightened their appearance, and stepped into the palace.

When they saw the scene inside the main hall, everyone was stunned.

A huge long table was placed in the center of the hall, and two figures sat at the end of the table.

The high lords felt their souls tremble the moment they saw them.

Those are memories etched deep in our genes, those are the guardians of humanity—the Emperor!

Sitting beside the emperor was someone he had never seen before.

But the high lords could sense that this being was on par with the emperor, or even surpassed him...

Then an indescribable sense of oppression came over me.

It wasn't just a simple sense of oppression, but a profound feeling as if history was rushing past before my eyes.

Looking closely, the figures that originally existed only in the ancient books and legends of the empire were now actually appearing before my eyes on both sides of the long table.

“Robert Guilliman…” the Minister of the Imperial Military Affairs subconsciously murmured the name.

Seated at the head of the left-hand side was Robert Guilliman, the Primarch of the 13th Legion's Ultramarines. He was clad in a dark blue power armor.

Guilliman's deep, sharp eyes were calmly watching each high lord who entered the hall.

“That’s…Vulcan?” The Minister of Justice of the Empire’s voice trembled slightly as he tried to identify the Primarch sitting next to Guilliman.

Vulcan, the Primarch of the Eighteenth Legion's Salamanders, wore a dark green power armor adorned with flame and hammer motifs. Compared to other Primarchs, Vulcan's physique was particularly imposing, resembling a volcano burning with flames.

Unlike Guilliman, he did not gaze at the High Lords; instead, he lowered his head slightly, seemingly deep in thought.

Only when he occasionally looked up could one see his eyes, which shimmered with a molten lava-like light.

“Leon…Leon El Johnson!” The Pope of the Imperial State Church’s voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement.

Leon El Johnson, the Primarch of the First Legion's Dark Angels, sat quietly at the head of the right.

Unlike the other Primarchs' power armor, Leon wore a dark green military uniform.

His weathered, aged face was revealed, and his white hair was casually draped over his shoulders, adding to his majestic, lion-like presence.

Leon's gaze was deep and calm, as if he could see through everything.

As his gaze swept over the high lords, each of them felt as if they were being watched by a sleeping lion, and a sense of awe rose involuntarily in their hearts.

Besides these three Primarchs, several other imposing figures, also clad in power armor, sat on either side of the long table.

Although the Highlords could not identify them one by one, the powerful aura emanating from them and their posture of sitting side by side with the three Primarchs were enough to prove their identities—all were offspring of the Emperor, loyal Primarchs.

"Is...is this true?" a high lord muttered to himself.

If this is true, this meeting will certainly completely change the current situation of the empire.

"Quiet." Yang Yi's voice rang in everyone's minds, interrupting their thoughts.

"Welcome, everyone."

"Now that everyone's here, what's next..."

"The first consultation meeting of the Second Empire has officially begun."

"The first step of the meeting? I would like to ask the High Lords to introduce the current situation of the Empire to the Primarchs." Yang Yi looked at the crowd in front of him with a mischievous smile.

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Chapter 101 Tithes and the Book of Astartes

Then, at the Emperor's instruction, the High Lords took turns explaining the current state of the Empire to the Primarchs.

They detailed the enemies the Empire faced: Chaos, Orcs, Ribs, Long-eared, Insects, and countless others, with the recently emerged Supreme Goodness Path.

In addition, he also mentioned the ongoing internal struggles within the empire and its extremely backward political system.

All of this boils down to a simple yet weighty fact: the empire survived for ten thousand years amidst internal and external troubles, and its continued existence today is truly a miracle.

The high lords' reports grew softer and softer until they were almost talking to themselves, and the entire hall fell silent.

The Primarchs' expressions shifted from initial shock and anger to a somber and gloomy tone, as each person processed this suffocating information.

Yang Yi observed the changes in the expressions of the Primarchs, but he also noticed the topics that the High Lords deliberately avoided.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence: "Fellow High Lords, how about giving a brief introduction to the current tithe and the Astartes Codex?"

Interior Minister Collins's face instantly turned ugly, as if he had swallowed a live Nurgle.

He tried his best to avoid these two sensitive topics, but unexpectedly Yang Yi called him out directly.

He glanced at the emperor, but the emperor simply sat quietly, waiting for his reply.

"Yes, sir." Minister of the Interior Collins felt like he was being roasted over a fire, with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

He began cautiously to describe the empire's current tithe system, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

He said that the system was like a giant vampire, greedily sucking the blood of every imperial world.

Every world, whether rich or poor, whether bountiful or plagued by famine, must unconditionally hand over "one-tenth" of its resources and manpower.

This "one-tenth" is like a Damocles' sword hanging over our heads, ready to fall at any moment and completely destroy a world.

Actually, this system was quite good when it first came out; it only charged one-tenth of the income, which was already considered very conscientious.

However, the reality is that, due to various reasons, only one-third of the originally planned supplies could be retained after being collected, so the empire increased taxes.

Furthermore, due to the vastness of the empire's territory and the cumbersome and complex political system, almost no one bothers to keep track of how much resources a world actually has.

Therefore, the amount of tax revenue in most parts of the world is still the amount that was initially determined.

In the past, the annual output value was 10 million and the tax revenue was 1 million; now, the annual output value is only 100,000, but the tax revenue is still 1 million.

If taxes are not paid on time, imperial troops will come to forcibly collect them, or even come to besiege and suppress them.

In this situation, it would be strange if the defection rate were not high.

Collins' voice trailed off as he described worlds crushed by tithes: on agricultural planets, farmers toiled all year only to reap nothing and watch helplessly as their families starved to death.

In the industrial world, workers toil day and night, yet the products they produce are continuously transported away, leaving them only with endless exhaustion and despair.

Some planets have been drained of their last resources, turning into desolate deserts.

What's even more infuriating is that these plundered resources were not used for the construction of the empire.

They were like people who had fallen into a bottomless pit, being exploited and lined up by bureaucrats at all levels.

Less than one percent of the material actually reaches where it is needed.

Guilliman's face grew increasingly grim as he listened. He slammed his hand on the table, and several cracks instantly appeared on the hard surface.

He growled, "This is utter madness! The tithe was established to provide the empire with necessary supplies and to enable all worlds to work together! It wasn't meant for those parasites to exploit the common people and satisfy their own desires!"

Vulcan's eyes were filled with compassion. He shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "Those ordinary people... they have suffered far too much that they should not have to suffer."

He understood the struggles and suffering of the lower classes better than other Primarchs, and these words came almost from the bottom of his heart.

Leon remained expressionless, revealing neither joy nor anger. But a cold, icy light gleamed in his deep eyes.

He spoke slowly, “Continue, Minister.” Each word struck Collins’ heart like a heavy hammer.

Other Primarchs also expressed their dissatisfaction, some with anger, some with heartache, and some with helplessness.

But they all knew that now was not the time to completely overthrow the tithe. The empire, like a wrecked ship, could no longer withstand any major storms.

Collins stole a glance at the Emperor sitting on the throne, but the Emperor remained silent, seemingly indifferent to everything.

Collins had no choice but to continue, feeling like he was walking a tightrope, and that one wrong step would shatter him to pieces.

The Primarchs could only sigh inwardly.

For the common people who eked out a living under the heavy burden of tithes, for this empire riddled with problems, and for their own powerlessness.

They regretted not waking up sooner; if they had returned sooner, perhaps none of this would have happened.

Collins felt his throat go dry, swallowed hard, and continued recounting the events of the Astartes.

“This set of holy scriptures…” Collins’s voice was a little hoarse. He tried to control his tone and make it sound as calm as possible, “…it was hastily drafted by Lord Guilliman ten thousand years ago…”

“Originally… the Holy Scripture should have been continuously optimized as times have progressed…” Collins’s voice trailed off as he secretly glanced at Guilliman and noticed that the Primarch’s face was so dark it could drip water.

“But…” Collins continued, forcing himself to speak, “later generations… have regarded the sacred text as gospel…and have used it to this day without changing a single word…”

He felt like a prisoner on trial in a courtroom, where every word he uttered could become evidence for his conviction.

"Many of these regulations... are completely unsuitable for modern warfare..." Collins' voice was almost inaudible, "Instead... they have become... a constraint on Astartes' ability to exert its combat power..."