Sibisibi, Loyalty!

Tax collection is a technical job; it requires not only identifying and addressing loopholes and sorting through various aspects, but most importantly, it requires strong military force.

In terms of military strength, Mordred believed Atlas was still quite formidable. As for the various arrangements, Malcador had already sent over the list; he could just go for the famous one-on-one kills. Why worry about anything else?

He now understood that the Emperor, that Dogs and Donkeys, not only wanted the Space Wolves, the internal security force, and the Dark Angels, the counter-terrorism unit, but also the Atlas, the tax-collecting army.

To want all three, to try and control all three—with the Emperor's intellect, Mordred believed he couldn't have come up with such a scheme; only that cunning scoundrel, Malcador, could.

What's worse, he suspected that being given the title of Warmaster was also part of Malcador's plan, and that the Emperor was just a mouthpiece used to relay messages.

Even from a darker perspective, besides managing logistics, Atlas's biggest business is the production of weapons, which, even before it has expanded significantly, highly overlaps with the Adeptus Mechanicus.

"Damn Malcador, was this part of your plan too?"

"What plan?" The Emperor's innocent question only convinced Mordred that this was indeed Malcador's scheme.

"Get lost, you useless Harkon! As the Master of Mankind, you can't even govern the empire properly. Go sell your hooks!"

Mordred took out the execution list given to him by Malcador and sent it into Atlas's internal network, urging his offspring to quickly paint it blue.

Every family that has grown powerful and influential in Holy Terra, the capital of the empire, is undoubtedly clean. Killing them all would surely leave some innocent people who have been wronged, but killing every other one would inevitably leave some culprits behind.

Before Harkon finished his game, Mordred, fearing another beating for no reason, personally led a group to begin Atlas's hunting expedition.

Before leaving, Mordred glanced at his wristwatch. It was December 12th, 845 M30 in the Terra calendar—a perfect time for a Great Purge.

The first thing they did was seal off the area, preventing even a single insect from leaving Terra. Seeing these tall, blue-armored warriors take over the starport, some quick-thinking individuals began to realize that something was wrong.

But only death awaited them!

With the Emperor and Malcador's approval, the Imperial Navy, which was originally defending Terra, was transferred, and even the bailiffs all retreated back to their barracks. After all, why risk their lives for a few hundred dollars a month?

The first to engage in combat were not the Space Marines, but rather the Spartan squad, which was developed from the descendants of numerous Rogue Trader. These family members, who had been merchants for generations, understood the nobility best and were therefore experts in the field.

Mordred knew he hadn't done anything good and it would definitely arouse the suspicion of some people, but what could he do? After all, the Empire was a military government that valued strength above all else; as long as it was strong enough, there wouldn't be any problems.

As for the so-called revenge, that's a joke. Anyone who dares to retaliate against Imperial Warmaster is no ordinary insect.

The wolf must Strike Hard!

The once magnificent Hive City of the capital city was now stained with blood, and the noble people who had fled in all directions had lost their former composure.

If you surrender obediently, you might get a baton from the police. If you dare to run, six batons per second is not the limit for Atlas. The.75 caliber explosive shell will give you endless Kiya!

Perhaps it was the sight of the towering giant Mordred nearby that made the nobles feel at ease, and they began to spontaneously seek his protection.

"Your Highness, those Ultramarines have gone mad! They dared to open fire and slaughter the citizens of the Empire! You must avenge us!"

"That's right, I saw through those bumpkins from Ultramar a long time ago. Such Ambition people are bound to be a great scourge to the empire."

"Oh! You mean my brother Guilliman is also Ambition man?"

The nobleman who had spoken earlier immediately stated that His Highness Guilliman was definitely right, and as for why Ultramarines appeared in Holy Terra, it must be someone trying to frame him.

"That's right, someone is definitely framing us. I saw it myself just now; the paint on those Space Marine wasn't even dry yet. As for those smaller Spartan Warriors, everyone in the Imperium knows them, except for Serenity ---"

The nobleman who had been speaking eloquently fell silent. Everyone was staring at him, including Mordred was looking down at him.

"You just mentioned Serenity, right?"

"No, no, Your Highness, you must have misheard. What I meant was, I absolutely must go to Serenity for a vacation someday. Serenity is so wonderful, I dream of going there!"

Being stared at by a giant metal figure nearly 4 meters tall, clad in heavy black armor, was incredibly oppressive. Fortunately, Master Mo couldn't stand the sight of blood and wouldn't smash the insects' skulls with a single punch; that would be such a waste.

Mordred casually grabbed the collar of the talkative nobleman, still wearing that kind smile, but the more amiable he was, the more terrifying he became.

"The fact that you few managed to escape is entirely because your crimes don't warrant death. After all, I'm not a bloodthirsty person. Remember to hand over the embezzled tax revenue; one portion goes to the Department of the Interior, and the other to me. Do you understand?"

Who wants to die when they can live? Hearing that they still had a chance to live, the nobles nodded repeatedly, and even spontaneously suggested that one gift was not enough. To celebrate His Highness's ascension to the position of War Master, they would certainly present him with a grand gift.

"Very well, you are indeed loyal subjects of the empire. I appreciate your kindness, but I have one more thing I need your help with."

I know your abilities, otherwise you wouldn't be alive to see me. Since you want to be loyal subjects, then expose everyone involved.

What's that saying again? Fealty that isn't absolute is absolutely Fealty. But I'm the kind of person who likes to appoint relatives and friends. So, who do you think should get those vacant positions?

Having said all that, even if these imperial nobles were pig-brains, they could understand Mordred's meaning: since they were going to die anyway, they might as well sell out their teammates and take a gamble, going all the way with this Imperial Warmaster.

As more and more people exposed themselves, from the Council of Terra to the Hive City gangs, everyone was implicated, even revealing that the Mars Adeptus Mechanicus smuggling cold goods (Xenos).

Some things are as light as four ounces on the scale, but once they're on the scale, even a thousand pounds can't hold them back. It's not just corruption; even the Imperial Navy had cases of people smuggling weapons and receiving salaries without working.

Mordred had only one word for dealing with these people: raid their homes and silence them!

"The Khan, you get out here and shoot those traitors disguised as Ultramarines! Then bring them here one by one to pay me a visit. Whether Atlas can achieve glory depends on this!"

Upon hearing the greeting, the Khan quickly gave an Atlas salute, completely disregarding his blue paint-covered body. You could say he wasn't serious, since he even drew a bullet mark on his forehead with colored pencils. But you could also say he was serious, since the Khan knew to use a fake identity, albeit Tom's.

Mordred grabbed the talkative nobleman at random. He was very impressed with this man, as the person he implicated had the highest rank among all the people he had mentioned, including four members of the Council of Terra.

The thought that half of the supplies these insects had plundered should have been his Mordred tremble with rage.

Dragging this little bug, they headed towards the location of the congressman's family.

In just one week, Atlas personally arrested 370,000 imperial nobles, and nearly 65 million unnamed henchmen.

Moreover, this Great Purge is showing signs of intensifying, starting in Terra and gradually spreading to the entire Sol Sector, hunting down those insects who dare to embezzle tax revenue.

For Mordred, even granting them death was an act of mercy; after squeezing all their value out of them, becoming slave laborers Servitor was their only fate.

In order to concentrate the loot, Atlas even had to establish a storage point on the Luna to take inventory of the supplies. However, even when the Luna continental shelf was about to collapse, the loot was still being transported to the Luna in a continuous stream.

After extracting resources from the fire and looting during expeditions, Mordred discovered a new way to make money. This raiding was far more profitable than the Great Crusade; it was a huge windfall, enough to feed him for three years straight.

Looking at the densely packed cargo holds that covered the entire Luna surface, Mordred and the other Atlas cheered with joy. This was all that they had painstakingly plundered over the past three years.

"Brother, we're rich!"

"Yes, we finally have the resources to realize Atlas's dream. When that happens, everyone will be using Atlas's weapons, and we will be the towering giants of the Empire."

I've already planned it all out. There are a few desolate planets around Serenity. I'll transform them into Forge World: one to produce Titan, one to produce Riders, and the remaining one to manufacture Power Armour for my Frame.

As for the business of recycling used military supplies, I can't give it up either. Those damned Mechanicus dare to steal my business, I'll show them what it means to be the best at Atlas Technology.

But as she laughed, Mordred realized something was amiss and looked at the person who had spoken to her:

Horus, when did you arrive?

At this point, Horus finally realized one thing: his brother was not only not very bright, but also had poor eyesight. The massive Vengeful Spirit had been hovering in Luna orbit for half a year, and he hadn't even seen it!

"I arrived when you were cursing Father Harkon, but well done. If you can really accomplish that plan, then the Legion won't have to rely entirely on the Adeptus Mechanicus."

"What, is there something wrong with what I said?"

For some reason, while Horus was staring at Mordred, he suddenly felt an itch on his neck, as if he was about to be punched in the head and have his head blown off at any moment.

This inevitably reminded him of what Fulgrim had told him about his experience, saying that his brother was extremely skilled at attacking from behind.

He's a crazy guy who can have a physical, passionate fight with his father.

However, after six months of observation and understanding, Horus still believed that Mordred was a very good brother, and the reason for this situation must be because the world he landed in was too cruel.

Especially after Horus realized that Mordred was a complete idiot, all his jealousy vanished, and he even felt a pang of regret.

After all, it's not honorable for a Ferrari to win a race against a Xiali!

Seeing Mordred still staring blankly at him, Horus felt it was time to mend their brotherly bond.

She quickly moved closer and asked, slightly shyly:

"Bro, Lion already told me, do you still have any of that stuff?"

"Oh~ you mean?"

Yes, that's it!