Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 83 Oh dear, this has really put me, the war general, in a difficult position! (3k)

War General, an ultimate title second only to the emperor, possessing supreme power.

To put it somewhat presumptuously, when the emperor dies, the war marshal will be the next head of the empire, practically the crown prince of the 30k empire.

Especially when this title was bestowed upon a Primarch, everyone's gaze changed, particularly that of the Emperor's eldest son, Leon Eldjonsson.

Mordred knew without a doubt why Zhuang Sen was looking at him like that, but he also knew one thing: that idiot Huang Pizi was messing with him again.

Everyone thought that the Imperial Warmaster was a hot commodity, but only Mordred himself knew that it was a trap. He wasn't some soft, fluffy puff pastry that would eagerly bend over and wait to be filled.

Even if he shouldn't be afraid of being forced to drink, who knows how much he can withstand?

Moreover, at this stage of Atlas's rapid development, Mordred doesn't want the yellow weasel to die more than anyone else. What am I supposed to do if this dog-donkey dies? Am I supposed to shoulder the burden?
"Old Huang, no! Your Majesty, Father, considering how loyally I have served the Empire for so many years, the title of War General must be enjoyed by a virtuous person. I am not worthy, I am without virtue!"

As you know, I left my hometown at a young age. Not only am I not very bright, but I'm also prone to extremes and like to create things that violate the truth of the empire.

"Why don't we let Zhuang Sen come? As the saying goes, elders come first. He's the leader among us brothers, I recommend him as commander! Zhuang Sen can lead us all the way to Orion."

"No!"

With a loud shout, Leon Johnson stood there, refuting the order like a golden lion:

“Father is right. Mordred truly deserves the title of Warmaster. As the eldest son, if I don’t even have this much spirit, then I am not worthy to be your elder brother.”

Mordred, stop talking. As the saying goes, one shouldn't accept something for nothing. If I really want it, I'll prove myself with my own strength. I don't care at all, I don't care!

"Good! As expected of our father, well done."

Zhuang Sen's remarks drew praise from everyone, not only clearing his name but also dispelling the fear and anxiety of some of the Dark Angels.

Anyway, the title of War General is not static. Since the Great Expedition is not over yet, the Dark Angel will eventually push the Lion King onto the throne of War General.

Looking at the group of Dark Angels, who were suddenly filled with patriotic fervor and whose fathers and sons seemed to be acting out of nowhere, Mordred was so angry he just wanted to curse. He really didn't want to be this damn war commander! He just wanted to coast along.

"How about that? Isn't Dad good to you? I've already made you a war commander, so why don't you hurry up and fix my ship?"

"Fix you, you weasel, you bastard, you screwed me over!"

He knew this rebellious son wouldn't say anything nice, but the emperor didn't care. In his opinion, only Horus was capable of taking on the role of war commander.

It's one thing to be able to take on a great responsibility, but it's another to be able to win people's hearts. Horus's reputation is still not enough. Since that's the case, the position of war commander can't be left vacant. It's not good to let anyone take the position. It's better to find a big scoundrel to fill the role.

Moreover, Mordred is just the right size; he's ruthless, lazy, and a perfect candidate to be pushed to the front to discipline those disobedient fools, and incidentally, he can also be used to repair my ship.

I'm a genius!

After all, the Emperor was an immortal being who had lived through human history. Although his emotional intelligence was terrible, he had Macardo as an external brain, so he could just read from a script without having to think at all.

And so, on the very day that the tenth Primarch of the Imperium of Man returned, humanity gained a new Imperial Warmaster named Mordred. What a joyous occasion!
Countless reporters flocked to the scene, perfectly capturing this precious video that will go down in history.

Standing atop the high platform, the incomparably majestic Lord of Humanity; the Dark Angels cheering and celebrating the Primarch's return; the Imperial Warmaster, his face solemn, as if contemplating the future of humanity, being held in the Emperor's hand.

People only want to see what they want to see. In the eyes of these reporters, the great human ruler and the imperial war commander were a loving father and son, and even under the camera's lens, their father-son affection was still evident.

Especially at this moment, the Emperor's powerful arm, which he still refuses to relinquish in favor of his second son, is truly magnificent, our Majesty!
However, the truth was quite different. If the Emperor hadn't been holding him back, Mordred would have run away long ago, and thinking about the future of the Empire was a joke; his face was as black as the bottom of a pot.

With a silver laurel wreath placed on Mordred's head by the Emperor himself, the somewhat hasty coronation ceremony of the Warlord finally came to an end.

Soon, this scene will be sent to all parts of the Empire via the Star Speakers, allowing countless human citizens to witness this historic moment.

Meanwhile, the four nobles who were peeking from the other side of the curtain also expressed their sincere admiration and immediately began to give their support to the little toy they wanted.

But while everyone else was satisfied, only Mordred, looking ashen-faced, approached his best friend:
"Zhuang Sen, let me explain. The title of War General was not my wish. You have to believe me!"

"I believe you. We're brothers, how could I not believe you? After all, I've only just returned to the Empire, I don't care about this War General title!"

"Really?" Mordred had finally found a good brother who was neither stubborn nor mischievous, and who was on the same wavelength as him. He didn't want to have a conflict with Johnson, especially since the order payment hadn't been made yet.

"Really, I don't care!"

Looking at the Lion King, who kept emphasizing this and whose eyes held nothing but envy, Mordred found it hard to believe. After a brief exchange, Zhuang Sen finally couldn't hold back any longer. "Actually, I really want to be a War Commander. I dream about it all the time, but I have neither qualifications nor military merit. What can I do?"

"Sigh...that's true. But don't worry, I won't be in this position of war commander for long. I'm just a target pushed up to draw attention. The day I'm gone, you'll..."

"So I can become a war commander?"

Mordred shook his head, thinking to himself, "You bastard, are you hoping I die?"

"I think it's unlikely. You know, although the Empire is currently focusing on the Great Expedition, all sorts of small groups have emerged. Among them, the two most capable candidates for the Warmaster position are Felus and Horus."

Horus was the first son to return. Before my return, each of my brothers was taken care of by Old Man Huang for a period of time before being sent to Horus on expeditions.

Not to mention that all the resources of the empire are at his disposal. Legions without brothers in command are either under the Emperor or under Horus, and the rest are in the hands of Felus.

If you want to compete for the position of commander, then those two will be your rivals.

Oh, and Guilliman and Dorn could also get involved, but those two aren't popular; one's ambitious, and the other's got a way of saying the most hurtful things.

Don't be fooled by the Lion King's respectable knightly demeanor; it's all a facade. As a genuine barbarian, he's no saint either, capable of going head-to-head with Mordred.

Soon, the two talked about the current situation of the empire being divided into factions, from the election of war commanders to the faction-like state of the empire. For these insects who obeyed orders but not proclamations and dared to make small moves, the two had only one thought: to kill them.

Zhuang Sen's plan was to find an opportunity to secretly eliminate them. Mordred, on the other hand, planned to kill them and raid their home, much to the satisfaction of the big, golden-haired man who had been secretly eavesdropping.

As satisfied as he was, the emperor's smile soon faded. Looking at the Manchu Han Imperial Feast made entirely of mushrooms on the table, even though the dog-man chef's skills were superb, it was still mushrooms after all.

"What? You can't eat it, you yellow weasel? You're really not fit to be a human being. You're complaining about such good stuff. You should know how many people are still starving. You're a born evil yellow weasel."

You want me to fix your boat? Fix my foot! I have no money, and even if you want my life, I won't give it to you!

Seeing that no one was around, the big, golden-haired guy, now free from his social anxiety, revealed a surprisingly rich personality and shamelessly began promising benefits again.

"Mordred, I am your father! What do you mean by 'yours' and 'mine'? What's yours is mine, and what's mine is still mine! You are the Imperial War Marshal, and you must serve me, the Lord of Humanity!"

Of course, I'm not some heartless Rogdorn. If I give you a good job and you do it well, the expenses for repairing and building the team will be nothing more than a drop in the ocean.

"What kind of job? Tell me!"

Knowing this rebellious son would ask such a question, and unable to use psionic charm, the Emperor had already figured out Mordred's personality traits in order to get this lazybones to work.

Actually, calling him the Emperor is a bit one-sided. It was Macado who truly understood Mordred's personality. It was the Marksman who taught the golden giant how to speak, word by word. Otherwise, given the Emperor's emotional intelligence, he would only have two options: escape or beating him up.

"Collect taxes!"

"Taxes?"

Mordred was no longer sleepy. Her previously disgusted expression immediately changed 180 degrees, and she smiled more brightly than a flower.
"Rambo! Get out here right now! How can you let my dear father eat these leftovers? Make a proper meal and brew a good cup of coffee while you're at it."

Mordred's opportunistic attitude was exactly as Macado had predicted; he had to be lured with tangible benefits, otherwise, don't expect him to work.

"That's right, it's about collecting taxes, and not only that, you also need to help Makado set up an intelligence agency to monitor the entire empire and become its eyes and ears."

I don't care how you implement it; you're bored to death anyway. Just collect this tax revenue without missing a single drop, and you can do whatever you want with it.

It's no wonder that the five major star regions of the empire are all on Makado's shoulders. In terms of recognizing and utilizing talent alone, he completely surpasses the big golden guy. The Emperor is just a great general who conquers; he doesn't know anything about governing the empire.

Rather than letting Mordred idly engage in illicit affairs with Chaos, raise aliens, and conduct blasphemous research, it would be better to let him focus his energy on the age-old and promising job of collecting taxes—at least he's greedy enough.

Anyone who dares to play tricks in this regard will be bitten to death by Mordred, that mad dog.

"So, do you still want to be a war commander?"

Upon hearing this, Mordred immediately flashed a fawning smile:

"Oh dear, you've really put me in a difficult position. Since things have come to this, I have no choice but to comply."

Hahaha x2
Meanwhile, far away in Holy Terra, the human nobles suddenly felt a tightness in their scalps and an itch in their heads, but this did not stop the lavish banquet from continuing. After all, the nobles are the only ones who come and go, and the human empire is thriving!
"Then play music, then dance."

(End of this chapter)