Master, What's Your Job?

"Hahaha, I really am a beetroot! Look, look, this is what I made."

Have you ever used the Webway? You useless Harkon! You useless Mechanicus, and you bunch of useless Corn Elves, you're not even as good as a single hair on my head."

After realizing the reality, Mordred grinned foolishly, dragging people around to see the miracle he had created, his demeanor unrestrained and arrogant, displaying an overbearing attitude as if he were the most powerful person in the world.

Regardless of how it happened, and regardless of his current mental blank, the facts are undeniable. Whether you believe it or not, Mordred's taunts have slapped everyone in the face, yet no one has anything to say. Even if the Emperor wanted to beat him up, he had no reason to do so.

The sniper rifle must be able to hit people, the sun must be able to cause sunburn, and the Webway must be usable. Those who can enter here are all elites from all walks of life who have studied the Webway for decades, and some have even multiplied more than one generation within it.

They couldn't understand why the sacred Webway they regarded could be so easily exploited. Anyone who saw this would feel like the sky had fallen.

"Physics no longer exists, the Imperial Truth has crumbled, what was the point of all these years of effort? I really can't figure it out!"

Unable to comprehend this mystical scene, a Mechanicus with a broken heart started shouting. Before he could even lose his temper, he was dragged away by the swift-witted Adeptus Custodes.

Ignoring Mordred's erratic behavior and the Arch-Magos's shattered heart, the Emperor reached out and carefully stroked the small piece of the Webway shell, discerning the differences between the two.

Surprisingly, this small section of the Webway shell was not just for show; its quality was surprisingly good. Even if it couldn't match the genuine Webway, it was still better than the previously constructed man-made waste road.

The most ridiculous thing is that the materials used are no different from before; the only difference is the operator.

Cheap, durable, and usable. Even if it's not as good as the genuine product, it's still a high-quality item, much better than what they make themselves.

This filled the Golden Giant with immense joy.

It's important to know that the Webway Project is the Emperor's favorite project, and the entire Great Crusade is dedicated to it. Every day, countless precious resources are transported here to fill this endless hole.

The Emperor was not unaware of the importance of recuperation and development. The Great Crusade was, in essence, a form of external expansion, and any form of colonial expansion would yield massive amounts of resources.

But the human Webway has drained the blood of the Great Crusade, turning this place into a black hole that devours countless resources, to the point that even most of the Adeptus Custodes are trapped here.

Every time Mordred mocked the Emperor for not understanding human nature, he never refuted it. As Perpetual had experienced human history, how could he not understand this principle? It was just that the Emperor, the gambler, was taking the gamble.

The Emperor was gambling that the Great Crusade would be fast enough to plunder resources, that the Chaos God would not discover his plans, that the Webway of Destiny could allow the Empire to escape the Warp, and that he was even putting his own future and that of all humanity on the table.

Gamblers can never face reality, just as he stubbornly insists: the Emperor is not an omniscient and omnipotent god.

They also underestimated the malice of the Warp, just like those monarchs who disappeared into the annals of history.

"As long as the Webway Project succeeds, I'll have time to sort out the current state of the Empire, and then everything will be alright!"

Looking at his troublesome, rebellious Rebellious son, the golden-haired tyrant, who had been struggling for so long, felt a rare sense of relief, which made him unable to contain his joy:

"Destiny is on my side! Destiny is on my side!"

"I laugh at that Tzeentch and foolish man, that wicked and Khorne -witted fellow, that Nurgle is a dog, that Slaanesh! I win, I'm so happy I'm numb!"

At this moment, the Emperor and Mordred were jumping and dancing with immense excitement, even humming softly and breaking into an awkward dance. The Adeptus Custodes quickly turned their heads away, lest they suffer the same fate as the Arch-Magos, their Dao hearts shattered.

"Second Son!"

"Old Deng!"

"Ming ming ming, we're really going to take off this time! I'm going to find a Garden of Nurgle world, and our whole family will retire there."

"Hmm!" Mordred nodded, indicating that he also wanted to build a large estate, filled with fruits and vegetables, with Perturabo driving a tractor to plow the fields, Fulgrim raising sheep to produce milk, Russ guarding the house as a sheepdog, and then he and Magnus feeding Vulkan watermelons every day.

"You little rascal, you always come up with something new. This joke isn't funny at all, but Vulkan has plenty of strength, so why not let him pick cotton?"

"Hehe, yeah, let that guy pick cotton. If he doesn't behave, I'll let Angron beat him up!"

Now the Adeptus Custodes realized that Mordred was the one most like the Emperor. They had never seen His Majesty so happy; this son was just like his father!

But while watching this scene of true fatherly love and filial piety, Marshal of the Adeptus Custodes Valdor of the Imperial Guard felt a little worried, even as he was happy.

As a veteran member, Valdor was among the first to follow the Emperor, and he and Malcador had already become the Emperor's right-hand men during the Unification Wars.

Having spent so many years together, Valdor understands the Emperor's personality very well, and knows that the His Majesty he follows wants to establish Warmaster within the Primarchs, but certainly not Mordred is telling the Emperor hellish jokes in front of him.

That person can only be Horus Lupercal, the First Returned Son!

Within the imperial high command, everyone knew that Mordred's appointment as Warmaster was only temporary; he was merely a Black Glove to eliminate dissidents. This was the main reason why the various factions hadn't acted rashly—they were willing to wait!

In the first 30 years, the Imperial Expeditionary Force, which had just left the Solar System, was in a period of transition. It was Horus, the First Returned Son, who fought alongside them and laid the foundation for their initial success.

Many people have received Horus's favor, even to the point of risking their lives for him. Even the Emperor showered him with affection, something that later Primarchs could never match.

As the Great Crusade continues, those who were once saved by Horus have become high-ranking members of various factions, and even most of the legions are fighting together under the command of Moon Wolves.

Even the Adeptus Custodes, acknowledged that Horus was an exceptionally talented successor and a true Crown Prince of the Empire.

But as Mordred rose through the ranks, this so-called acting Warmaster became increasingly stable. Horus, what on earth are you doing?

If you don't show some promise, you'll be surpassed.

It's not that Valdor was overthinking things; in his view, Mordred had both power and influence, and had already become a powerful warlord who controlled a region.

Even though Atlasian, the Spartan who were imitation Space Marine numbered a whopping 180,000. And this was less than 20 years ago. He didn't even dare to imagine how many more soldiers would emerge in the future, not to mention that they also controlled extremely crucial logistical support.

Although the Serenity 50 Worlds cannot compare to Guilliman's Ambition 500 Worlds, the entire sector is completely self-sufficient.

A whole ring of interstellar fortresses was also built around it.

Valdor was not a sheltered noblewoman who never left her home. During the rotation of the Adeptus Custodes, she once took her men on Serenity trip.

In his view, Serenity was unlike anyone he had ever met. Even though she was exhausted after work, the longing for the future on her face was something he couldn't fake.

So much so that many newcomers to Serenity believe that the people here have been brainwashed and possess some kind of special mind control device.

In his quest to uncover the truth, Valdor began gathering intelligence, but the results only made things more unsettling for him.

Atlas didn't have any mind control devices at all. They simply fed ordinary people and gave them jobs that, while not making them rich, were enough to support them.

This makes other parts of the world, where people are still struggling to survive below the poverty line, look like shit.

To say that he had any means to win people's hearts, he certainly did, but Valdor couldn't bring himself to admit that it was wrong.

He witnessed firsthand how Atlas treated a large number of soldiers who were too wounded to continue fighting, replacing their limbs with extremely expensive mechanical prosthetics, which would be considered astronomical by the Adeptus Mechanicus.

I also saw some soldiers gain honor through their military achievements, rising directly to the top and becoming the Planetary Governor of a planet.

Everyone has the chance to become a legend, everyone has the chance to become a hero. Even if you are just an ordinary person who is exploited to death in Terra, you can survive in Serenity.

Compared to the Ambition Guilliman, Atlas's methods of rule were far more terrifying, but Mordred happened to have good relations with all the Primarchs, and each Legion had received valuable supplies from them.

Whenever you run out of ammunition and supplies, supply crates bearing the Atlas symbol always appear behind you immediately, just like your randomly disappearing personal items—they are never late, not even once.

Thinking of the limited edition, Angel of Bliss Elysium sets that Mordred had given him in his room, the Marshal of the Adeptus Custodes felt a headache coming on.

"Forget it, I'm just an ordinary Adeptus Custodes. I should think about what to eat tonight."

No one knew the worries of the giant Corn, but the two huge guys who had gone crazy enough finally stopped. To be precise, it was the Emperor urging Mordred to get to work:

"Good bro, give it one more time! I can't wait to see your amazing performance."

Mordred, suddenly doubling his power, would never refuse such a small request. He patted Little Yellow on the shoulder, indicating that he absolutely could.

"All of you step back, I'm about to begin my performance!"

But when Mordred picked up his tools again and faced the gap in the Webway, he was stumped. It seemed he had no idea how to build the Webway at all.

As time quietly passed, Mordred, still unable to come up with a solution, was already sweating profusely, and the Golden Giant behind him was casting a suspicious glance at him.

"Hey Huang, I might not be feeling too good today. Anyway, there's no rush for the Webway, how about tomorrow?"

"No, I need to see the Webway construction done right now. You can't not do it, can you? There are so many people watching. Stop dawdling and get moving."

Mordred, of course, didn't want to admit he couldn't do it, but the problem was he simply didn't know how. He'd just blurted it out in a moment of madness; heaven knows how he did it.

However, since things had come to this point, Master Mordred had no choice but to go along with it. After a series of shouts and cries, he actually ended up back in that rather wondrous green ocean.

While the fire was still hot, Mordred grabbed his tools and began cleaning the gap in the Webway.

But just as Mordred was having a good time, a stick came crashing down from the sky and hit him squarely on the head.

"Boom!"

The invincible Webway has exploded.