The Great Crusade, Activated!

Fulgrim eventually left, though only after the Son of the Emperor had physically forced him back onto the Legion Flagship.

If they let their own Imperial Primarch continue to lose his mind like that, the Son of the Emperor would truly become the laughingstock of the entire galaxy.

Watching the Emperor's Pride enter the Mandeville Point, Mordred finally let out a sigh of relief, pulled out a Lighter, and crouched down to light a cigarette.

Come to think of it, this Lighter belonged to the Emperor. Mordred had taken a shine to this incredibly cool little gadget at first sight; its casing was crafted from Radiant Gold. It was a complete waste in the hands of that old man, Old Man Huang, so it was better off in his possession.

But the moment he thought about the Emperor having been inside his Hive Laboratory, Mordred felt a wave of discomfort. Who knew if he had left any contingencies behind?

"No, this Hive Laboratory can't be used anymore. I need to open a branch mine. Where is my loyal Fourth Company Captain? Get over here, now!"

As the words fell, a Tin Can Kid, looking significantly sturdier than the average Atlas, jogged over and stood behind Mordred.

"Father, you called for me?" His voice matched his appearance; Fourth Company Captain Gawain was every bit the Civil Engineering Brother, and his opening line carried the distinct scent of a Black-hearted Foreman.

"Purchase another batch of experimental equipment and send it to the Abomination Exemplar. The Hive Laboratory under our Hive City is compromised; convert it to civilian use. Also, take a trip to Catachan, relocate the personnel, and establish the Hive Second Research Institute."

"But Father, didn't you say we were joining the Great Crusade next month? We don't have nearly enough manpower! How about you call back the Seventh Company and let those fortress clusters wait for a while?"

Mordred shook his head. The Seventh Company had been out building fortresses; that was an order he had issued personally, and it Absolutely Cannot be delayed.

It had to be said, the location of Serenity, occupied by Atlas, was truly bizarre—the place was just too cramped.

The entire sector was an elliptical sphere, wedged right at the gateway between the Sol Sector and the Extreme Sector. To the left was Chemos of the Son of the Emperor, and below was the Nightfall Star of the Salamanders.

It looked decent on the surface, but the other sides were quite a headache.

Above was the Maelstrom, a region of spatial anomalies that would be crawling with all sorts of monsters and demons in the future. Below was even more heavy-duty, because Mordred knew that a world called Armageddon would eventually drift over here. Compared to that, everything else was a minor issue.

At this point, you might ask: isn't the Sol Sector, the heart of the Imperium, right behind you? Well, let me ask you: if a Great Heresy were to break out in the future, or if some xenos were to march on the capital, what would happen to Serenity, which stood in the front line?

The Emperor had pegged Mordred as someone who couldn't bear to let it go. As long as he spent a day building here, any force wanting to attack Holy Terra in the future would have to step over Mordred's corpse. It was just like the relationship between Prince Liang Xiao and Emperor Wen of Han.

"Forget it. I'll have the Dog-men lead the Ogryn auxiliary forces to assist you. Doesn't Catachan still have colonies? Take them to do some construction work first. By the way, didn't you spend time in the Fourth Legion? Rogal Dorn is back, so he's hard to fool, but can you go to the Fourth Legion and poach some people? Construction is construction wherever you go; I provide full room and board plus a salary—isn't that better than digging trenches?"

The Fourth Company Captain took his orders and headed out with his men, full of vigor, to get to work. For Gawain, his father was right; he had made it big now, and it was time to look after the good brothers he used to labor with.

While Gawain issued the Galaxy's Beasts of Burden construction decree to summon his good brothers, Mordred, having nowhere else to go, returned to his ship to begin modifying his laboratory.

Gawain certainly had pull, even having connections with the Council of Terra. Before long, he had summoned the 77th Battalion of the Fourth Legion, and the battalion commander leading them was an old acquaintance of Gawain's.

Mordred certainly wouldn't let such good stock go to waste. He personally received these "good nephews" and even hosted a grand banquet.

During the banquet, watching his former brother-in-arms suddenly soar to such heights, Kaelen Valen was filled with envy, which he could only channel into his appetite, gorging himself alongside his cousins from the Second Legion.

Perhaps noticing that this Grinder Boy had something on his mind, Mordred asked:

"Kaelen, as an Imperial Primarch, I am also your good Uncle. If there's anything on your mind, tell me, and Uncle guarantees he'll solve it for you."

Hearing Mordred's comforting words, Kaelen couldn't hold back anymore and began to pour out his grievances. He complained that Horus had a bias against them, treating the Fourth Legion like mules and dumping all the hardest, most thankless tasks on them.

To complete their missions, the Fourth Legion suffered heavy casualties, even with priority access to Mars production. And even then, that First Returned Son was still unsatisfied.

Then there was Ferrus of the Third Expeditionary Fleet, who was no better. Every order he issued pushed them to the brink of destruction—not a bit more, not a bit less, just enough to finish the job.

It was only thanks to their numbers that they survived; the smaller 11th Legion and 19th Legion had no autonomy at all, becoming mere auxiliary forces and Cannon Fodder Regiment for the Moon Wolves.

"Your Highness, I really wish our Primarch would return to the Legion. If we had a Primarch, they wouldn't dare treat us like this. Look at Gawain; he came from the same trench as me. Once you returned, everything changed instantly. As long as our Primarch returns, our Fourth Legion will surely get better."

"Ah, this!"

Mordred really wanted to say that he was overthinking it. If they ever met Mortarion, he might just strangle his current self. How could anyone want to jump into a fire pit?

"Sigh, I've heard about this. Don't worry, Uncle is not like them. Come to me, and I guarantee you won't be shortchanged."

That was no lie. Ever since Serenity became a shipping hub, the fleets resting there never lacked supplies. Even if there was a temporary shortage, Mordred would use his status as a Primarch to explain the situation to the Council of Terra and extend their rest periods.

Legions with Primarchs might not know, but among those without, this Second Highness had a stellar reputation—not only was he witty and humorous, but he was also deeply considerate of his subordinates.

"Your Highness, I heard you're preparing to join the expedition. Why don't you command us instead? We have to fight anyway, and at least here, we can get some rest after every battle."

This was where having a good reputation paid off. Kaelen wouldn't dare speak his heart to other Primarchs, but with a Primarch like Mordred, who had absolutely no airs, he felt comfortable enough to drop his guard.

"That wouldn't be right. After all, Horus is the First Returned Son. Though he lacks the title of Warmaster, he already has the authority. He and Ferrus are known as two of the Triumvirate of the Expedition. As his brother, I can't go poaching his men! Sigh, forget it. Since you called me Uncle, I can't just watch you suffer. How about this: go and call back as many people as you can. Don't worry about who they are; bring everyone you can. We have few people and plenty of supplies, and you have many people but no Primarch. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we joined forces?"

He hadn't expected that after just a bit of venting, His Highness Mordred would actually agree. And not only did he agree, but he was also thinking of his other battle-brothers—this was a truly good Uncle!

"Uncle, I, Kaelen, have drifted for half a lifetime without finding a wise master. Seeing you today, I am certain to follow you to the end!"

Watching the Grinder Boy who had been thoroughly charmed, the "trash" Primarch waved his hand and sent a message to Holy Terra, telling Malcador to mobilize troops for him. He demanded that he hand over his good nephews immediately; he was going to assemble an army of one hundred thousand and march east.

Soon, a Psychic Power communication was relayed from Serenity to Holy Terra, eventually turning into a parchment delivered to the Lord of the Imperium.

After a quick read, Malcador had only one thought: Zheshabifeng. The front lines were so tense, where was he supposed to find one hundred thousand troops for him? He didn't even have ten thousand! Was he out of his mind?

But when it came to being Not Human, Malcador was no worse than the Emperor. He quickly came up with a new idea.

"Since the main force of the Fourth Legion is fighting alone in Inkarati, you want men? Go get them yourself."

"Alpharius, take a trip to Serenity. Didn't you say you wanted to go to the front lines? This is the perfect chance to test your results."

As the words fell, a bald man less than three meters tall suddenly popped out and replied to his teacher:

"Don't worry, my most capable offspring is already in Atlas. Going to the Second Legion feels just Like Coming Home. Lord of the Imperium, just wait for my good news!"