The Imperium Was Never Beautiful

"Your Great Commander may not know this, but Huron is a lawless and tyrannical ruler of the Maelstrom!"

"Oh! What's the explanation?"

Inside the Gargasia fortress, Mordred and the high-ranking Expeditionary Force were all seated, listening attentively as Commissar Yarrick recounted personal intelligence.

However, compared to the bastard who dared to steal from her hometown, Mordred was quite interested in Yarrick in front of her.

As the Empire's biological Big Mek, Mordred didn't even need genetic testing to tell that Yarrick had never undergone any rejuvenation surgery. The only modifications he made were the power clamps, the mechanical prosthetic eye, and the accompanying neural transmission modifications.

In other words, Yarrick, the Commissar known as the Old One-Eye by the Orks, lived for over 500 years beyond his actual age of 576 without undergoing any life-extending surgery, and he was still a natural human being.

Don't let Yarrick's age fool you; he might seem like any Space Marine could easily kill him with a slap. On the contrary, in a real one-on-one fight, an average Space Marine might actually be no match for this so-called "mortal."

In all his life, Mordred had never seen a human so thoroughly tainted by Waaaagh Energy. If it weren't for the absence of the mushroom smell of the Orks spores, he would have suspected that Yarrick was some kind of humanoid Orks.

This made Mordred fall into deep thought, because his intrusion meant that the current state of the Empire and even the galaxy was very different from what he remembered, although the general direction was correct.

In other words, since there is a character named Yarrick, there must be a corresponding Bonebreaker. This inexplicable and tragic connection sent chills down Mordred. After all, once there is one, there will be two, and once there are two, there will be three.

The Great Rift spanning the Empire is here, the Broom Stare Sons of Baal are here, the Adeptus Custodes Guard is here, and now Yarrick, Bonebreaker, Sigmar, Huron have popped up, and even the Blood Ravens, which is supposed to be the comic relief, is still their own Atlas in the end.

Mordred dared not imagine what would happen next. Even if the timing didn't match up, this damned bond of fate would still bind two or more people together.

"Alas~ Yesterday's events are still vivid in my mind. It seems that the fact that you, Yarrick, are still alive is most likely due to the My Thinking Power' of the Orks. You and the Bonebreaker are truly a pair of star-crossed lovers!"

"What lovebirds! Great Commander, are you listening?"

"Ah, I'm listening, I'm listening. Go on, I just thought of something interesting. By the way, is Huron really that bad?"

Yarrick wasn't completely ignorant of this unfamiliar Primarch who had suddenly appeared, but like everyone else, he didn't know much. He only knew that this incredibly kind and inexplicably pleasing Primarch was the second son of the God-Emperor, the commander-in-chief of the Third Fleet of the Indomitable Expedition, and the Great Commander of the Empire.

Together with Imperial Regent Guilliman, Legion Warmaster Lion King, and Terra Lurker Sisyphus, the three Primarchs launched a swift and decisive attack on Terra, eliminating the Council Vermin who had plagued the region for millennia. They were collectively known as the Four Heavenly Kings.

Astartes told the Astra Militarum that the Second Highness was very kind and approachable, though a bit prone to making strange remarks. The dogs that followed him said that Mordred was a clan Great Chieftain who loved life.

Combining these two points, Yarrick also gained a preliminary understanding that the Primarch was very compassionate.

Like the salamander, which looks like a Salamanders but has an incredibly noble heart, he is World-shaking giant loves life and is not as Ambition as the Primarch who stayed in Terra and never moved.

Empires are not about fighting and killing, but about human relationships and social interactions. This is a skill that Yarrick learned by combining his 500 years of military experience with the half-volume of his family's <Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Numerology Secret Art>.

He can quickly deduce a person's general personality and behavior by observing their face, numbers, and skull shape, making it easier for him to speak to people in a way that suits them.

Sometimes, using your mouth a little more is more effective than anything else. After all, humans evolved the tongue and language for the purpose of communication. Surely no one would be so brain-dead as to try to hide something from their superiors or subordinates through riddles?

If such a person really exists, sooner or later they will end up shooting themselves in the foot, and might even end up paralyzed and in a vegetative state.

Fortunately, as a seasoned veteran who had spent years mingling around the Maelstrom, Yarrick was quite familiar with Huron, this troublesome neighbor, and immediately introduced him, "Your Highness, you may not know this, but Huron is not only a Chaos warlord, but also a spy, a rebel, an ambitious Ambition; a big bully, a shady character, Red Corsairs; a stumbling block, a fence-sitter, he is two-faced."

He is a very complex person, so complex that he has become a symbol of Maelstrom.

Unlike those other fools who thought they could control the power of Chaos, Huron was fully aware of the dangers of Chaos; in fact, 20 years ago, he was the most prestigious guardian of the Maelstrom.

At this point, Yarrick couldn't help but sigh, "The Maelstrom is a battleground, and since ancient times, it has been said that whoever occupies the Maelstrom can conquer Terra."

However, precisely because of this, after the Warp storm 10,000 years ago, the Maelstrom was blasted into a hole. It was only thanks to this place in the Galactic Core that the Maelstrom, like the Eye of Terror, was able to drag the surrounding star sectors into the Warp.

So while Huron did indeed become Chaos warlord, he was entirely forced into it.

Unexpectedly, there was even more gossip to be had. Mordred and his underlings immediately pulled out chilled drinks and creamy melon seeds, and after listening carefully, they all felt the same way.

According to Yarrick, Huron was originally the Chapter Master of the Star Scythes Chapter, a staunch Imperial Fealty.

He was very thin back then, and when he arrived in this godforsaken place, he was received by Yarrick himself. He was a complete greenhorn.

Since the Empire has never been human when it comes to being inhuman, and follows the principle of using whatever is useful to the extreme, Star Scythes was directly sent to the Great Vortex by the High Lords Council to guard the Maelstrom due to the endless internal Maelstrom.

You could say they'd offer all kinds of help except direct assistance. As long as you pay your taxes on time, you can do whatever you want, just keep the Maelstrom under control.

The Star Scythes, who were thrown over there, were so poor they were practically begging for mercy. They had fewer than 400 men and three ships. They were doing alright, but they could only be described as an ordinary Chapter with some strength.

In the Maelstrom, a place where all sorts of monsters and demons gather, the arrival of the Star Scythes was essentially the same as their absence. Everyone was just watching the spectacle, waiting for these big guys to die a violent death, and then tearing a few pieces of flesh from their corpses.

Even Yarrick believed that Star Scythes was framed, otherwise it wouldn't have been banished to the Maelstrom to suffer.

But who would have thought that Huron, true to Guilliman's nature, seemed to possess the spirit of his ancestors, managing to sweep away hunger and regain his former self in just 50 years. By sustaining himself through war, he cultivated vast territories and firmly established himself in the midst of the Maelstrom.

The number of members in the Chapter also expanded rapidly to 3,000, making it a regional tyrant, just like the local gang Blood Ravens.

"Yes, Father. At that time, the Star Scythes and Blood Ravens were frequently at odds. Including Blood Ravens, White Scars, the Son of the Emperor, and some Salamanders, nearly 40,000 Astartes were stationed in the entire Maelstrom, and the Astra Militarum was countless."

Gabriel added that they even marked the military defense deployments at the time on the star map, and they had a firm grip on the entire Maelstrom Passage, eventually even having the surplus to act as supply depots for other Chapter.

"And what is the price?" Sisyphus asked.

Although he'd gotten his share of beatings lately, spending every day either taking exams or on his way to take exams, Sisyphus had indeed learned some of Mordred's operational methods. He immediately spotted the problem. "So you haven't paid your taxes!"

Upon hearing this, apart from the Primaris Space Marine who had just been assigned to the Greyshields, all the other veterans fell silent. But there wasn't a fool among them; they could all see that the junior Chapter Master knew something.

And that's exactly what happened.

As a newly formed battle group, the Third Expeditionary Fleet, although mainly composed of Atlas, included a large number of other Chapter and possessed a large number of old popsicles that Kaul had kept hidden for thousands of years.

These old popsicles look old, but they're just popsicles, much like Mordred creates things out of thin air. They even have a kind of clear and simple stupidity in their eyes, like a husky mixed in with a pack of wolves, easy to grab and easy to catch.

If you calculate carefully, you'll find that even if you include his previous life and the total time spent in his two dream journeys, Mordred is just a greenhorn who's not even 300 years old. He's all about his appearance to fool people; if you didn't know better, you'd think he was some kind of ancient monster.

These relatively simple Space Marine didn't understand any of those intricacies. Running Chapter well without supplies or support, everyone has their little secrets!

Seeing that everyone had started to discuss it, Mordred immediately tapped the table. "There are no treacherous officials here, only loyal ones. You are all half-brothers!"

I don't care what happened before, but now that your Second Uncle is standing up for you, this kind of situation of being forced into Maelstrom will never happen again. Please continue."

Since the Primarch had spoken, Yarrick had no choice but to continue. What followed was exactly what everyone expected: the Maelstrom was able to maintain basic order entirely because of the misappropriation of tax revenue.

Or rather, it shouldn't be called misappropriation, but rather outright tax evasion and refusal to pay. It's like saying, "I'm not paying taxes anymore, do whatever you want, come and deal with me if you dare."

Actually, this problem can also be blamed on Guilliman. It was Guilliman who opened the door to Chapter management, leading to a situation in the Empire where friendly forces remain unmoved when in danger, and the Parliament fights each other over tax collection.

After all, splitting up means dividing the assets. When we were in the parent company, I called you Company Captain. After the split, you should call me Chapter Master. When we work, we should address each other by our titles.

This is why Guilliman is still being criticized to this day; it's because his "Benevolence Decree" completely shattered what should have been an unbreakable legion. No matter how close relatives are, they are still relatives.

At this point, the High Lords Council was still relatively human; they did not pursue Huron's mistake, but instead gave him a few warnings and indicated that the tax could be postponed until he recovered.

Then here's the interesting part: since you Star Scythes don't have to pay taxes, why should we?

At first, things were alright. After all, the Maelstrom was chaotic enough that excuses like fire dragons burning down warehouses could be used to fool people. Considering how lowly and humble the Chapter were, the council tolerated it.

But later they stopped even putting on shows. As soon as the tax collection ships took off, they would encounter Warp storm or be attacked by pirates. You ask why all the pirates were giant, heavily armored, Canned One figures?

Then go ask whoever you want. We don't know anything about it. The tax ships paid all the taxes when they collected them. It's your own fault for not being able to bring the taxes back with you.

Moreover, a closer look reveals that the Chapter that survived the Maelstrom were not exactly benevolent. Blood Ravens goes without saying, and Mordred doesn't believe that Gabriel, that scoundrel, wasn't involved.

The surrounding worlds are even more impressive, with Phoenix's hometown, Chemos, and White Scars's hometown Chogoris.

Upon closer inquiry, it was discovered that there were also animal combinations—mantis, Red Scorpions, shark, black dragon, and bullhead; a crazy combination—malice, abomination, gray claw, and red Sanguinius; a Xenos combination— Orks, bean sprout, short man, Tyran, and even Tau.

Although he had been cursing the High Lord for being inhuman, Mordred was truly speechless this time. He could even picture the swirling Maelstrom teeming with life, as if all things were vying for dominance.

The High Lords Council is truly useless for tolerating this for almost 200 years. If it were Mordred, he would have simply amassed a large army and slaughtered them all from the very beginning.

As Yarrick recounted his story, every single one of these former Chapter Master became incredibly guilty, glancing around nervously but daring not to look at Mordred.

"Sigh! No wonder you all pretended to be stupid; so you all did it, didn't you?"

"Then why was only the Star Scythes dealt with?" Sisyphus asked a good question, good precisely because it was completely meaningless.

That's obvious, isn't it? If Terra were capable of handling the Maelstrom, they would have done it long ago. The key is that they weren't. The Macarius Expedition exhausted the Empire's last reserves, so they could only resort to extremist tactics.

Other Chapter are either First Founding or bandits like the Maneaters and are fearless; if you mess with me, just run away.

As for the others who can't escape, they're not easy to mess with either. The Minotaur are their own henchmen, and Blood Ravens has even latched onto the Adeptus Mechanicus, a powerful force. You can't find any excuse to mess with them.

To push things to the extreme, Gabriel even made a special trip to Holy Terra to show the councilors a photograph.

Due to the blurry image quality, the person in the passenger seat was no longer recognizable, except that they were wearing a vest and trench coat. However, the person in the back seat was clearly Tom, the first Blood Ravens Chapter Master, who was wearing an undeniably striking patent leather Bunny Girl outfit.

But the passenger seat isn't important; what matters is the driver. Even if the High Lord is completely out of his mind, he can still recognize that the Emperor is driving.

If the Master of Mankind the driver, I don't even want to imagine who's next to him.

If that's not enough, there are also photos of him with the Lord of Fire, selfies of him hugging the Phoenix's leg and shoving it upwards, and photos of him being beaten up by a lion. The Adeptus Custodes were dumbfounded when they pulled out the thick stack of photos.

Isn't this ridiculous? Heaven knows how many people Blood Ravens might implicate behind the scenes; we can't just reveal them all.

Upon closer examination, it turns out that you Star Scythes were the most vocal, but most importantly, you have no powerful backing, so you can't blame us.

"That doesn't make sense either. Since the Star Scythes is in cahoots with you, didn't you offer any help?"

"We helped! We didn't take advantage of the situation."

"Exactly, exactly! I even had the Chapter Master Narisong, write a couplet and send it over to remind Huron to calm down. He just didn't understand its meaning, so it's not our fault!"

The one who spoke was a Mantis Warriors. These sons of the Khan liked to indulge in a bit of artistic flair, and they even wrote out the couplet, which made Mordred laugh in exasperation.

[A man cannot get rich without unexpected wealth, and a horse cannot get fat without night grazing; the horizontal scroll reads: Fortune and wealth are found in danger.]

"That's so sarcastic, no, it's classic, buddy! Is that how you use a couplet? Couldn't you have said something like, 'When the wind blows hard, run for your lives, hurry up and get some water'?"

"And what about you?" Mordred looked at the silent, burly man. Judging from the insignia on his left shoulder, this guy was a former member of the Red Scorpions. He looked quite tough, with a huge bullet wound on his forehead.

"Your Highness, my name is Khala. I'm not like them; I'm definitely not the kind of scoundrel who would leave someone to die."

The name sounded familiar to Mordred, but he couldn't quite place it for a moment. After all, like Hans, Tom, and Vladimir, there were seven or eight people with the name Khala in the Khala.

It is a rare word in the High Gothic that is not too difficult to pronounce and has a positive meaning. Its general meaning is similar to that of luck, and it is also the easiest word for Civilians to grasp.

But after being reminded by someone nearby, Mordred instantly remembered that this guy's full Khala Karab Kulin, the top commander under the High Lord, the Grand Marshal of the Imperial Army during the Badab War, a graduate of the first class of Terra Merit Garden, and someone he had rescued himself.

"Good lad, no wonder you didn't dare utter a single word. So you were the one who orchestrated that Great Purge. You really are different from them."

"I see now. Every single one of you here is a talent. No wonder Huron dared to raid my base. You betrayed your teammates! You're utterly inhuman."

"Father, it's not like we didn't help at all. If we hadn't been so passive, he wouldn't have been able to break through at all. Besides, we even fired a few shots into the air, the loudest ones of all."

Upon hearing this, Kulin, who had been silent just moments before, suddenly sprang to his feet, lunging at Gabriel and grabbing him by the neck while yelling, "You bastard! How Could wonder I got shot while inspecting the front lines! No wonder you were so enthusiastic towards me! It was you, you bastard! You almost blew my brains off!"

Gabriel, you're a complete novice!

"How dare you talk back to me? What kind of good person goes out on a work inspection without wearing a helmet? You deserve it!"

"Besides, didn't I heal you? You insisted that scars are a warrior's honor. Everyone else healed you, but you insisted on burning a mark with a bomb."

Now that his secrets had been exposed, Kulin stopped pretending and directly turned the tables on Cerberus, who was watching the show, saying, "You bastard, you're swindling Blood Tithe everywhere, and I'm the one who cleaned things up for you. Now you're just playing dumb."

Given Cerberus's massive physique, which even Mordred would have to look up at, Mordred was genuinely afraid that he might overreact and slap Kulin to death.

Fortunately, Cerberus didn't court death and chose a verbal confrontation. He opened his gaping maw and began to berate the Punishers Chapter Master beside him, saying that he was the one who cleaned up their blasphemous rituals.

"Bullshit! You barbarian, how dare you talk to us like that?"

"Who are you calling a barbarian? Ever since I joined the Great Commander, I've already finished high school. Do you dare come out and fight me one-on-one?"

"Funny, all you've got is height and no brains. You think I'm stupid? Do you think I'm going to fight you one-on-one? We Astartes are all about strategy and tactics, you know?"

As one Chapter Master after another emerged and began fighting amongst themselves, Yarrick slipped over to Mordred's side. Their eyes met, and the two old schemers nodded in tacit agreement.

"Yarrick, I'll ask you one question. Tell me honestly, did Huron deserve to die?"

"Damn it! Fealty that isn't absolute is absolute Fealty." The old Commissar spoke clearly and distinctly, completely belying his aged appearance; after all, this was politically correct.

"But Your Highness, there are countless people like Huron. They are indeed despicable, but equally pitiful."

Indeed, this is the main reason why Mordred brought the fleet here to assemble. On the one hand, he was afraid that Huron would destroy the Serenity, and on the other hand, he felt that it shouldn't happen.

Arek pulled out an elemental bottle that he usually rubbed around in his spare time and handed it over. Yarrick didn't refuse and put it into his pouch. He continued, "Your Highness, although I don't possess the extraordinary wisdom of you, I have lived for five centuries and know the state of the Empire better than anyone else."

All I know how to do in my life is fight Orks. In the end, the Orks didn't all die out; instead, their numbers kept increasing. Now, another wave of bugs has come and they're fighting each other like dogs in Orctavius.

Astartes is a sharp blade in His Majesty's hand, but to talk about Fealty is a joke. Anyone can say nice things, but who is truly Fealty?

The Council, Terra, His Majesty, or the Primarch? The older the warrior, the more confused he becomes, ultimately only able to say he is loyal to the Empire.

While there's still time, Huron has just emerged from the Maelstrom and hasn't done anything particularly heinous, I think we can make a quick buck. Any later and it will really be too late.

Even a demigod of the original form, once tainted by Chaos, will become devoid of humanity. Your Highness, you should know more than I do.

Mordred did have this idea, and most importantly, the Badab Rebellion had only just ended, and the Red Corsairs had not yet developed, meaning they were in a gray area.

If it had been a few years later, Mordred wouldn't have even considered it; giving him a quick and painless end would have been considered a sign of his kindness.

Are you a local?

"Yes, Your Highness, we are true Cesk, one of the former Serenity 50 Worlds, and Huron's homeworld is Endymion, also your descendants."

This is another mess. In preparation for war, Atlas launched a migration project, relocating all the Civilians of Serenity to the area around Badab.

It's been too long, so long that no one can settle this mess anymore, but none of that matters. What matters is that Mordred has returned. There can only be one Lord of the Maelstrom, and that is Mordred and his Atlas.

"I'll give him a chance. If he can seize it, I won't mind teaching this Rebellious son a lesson on behalf of Guilliman. But if he can't, the Red Corsairs will have no reason to exist."

"Pass on my order: the fleet must assemble. It's time for us to go home."

Enjoy