The Emperor, You Don't Understand People's Hearts

For those who are familiar with the course of fate, everyone is a weaver of destiny, but the more so, the more one can feel an extremely chaotic sense of dislocation.

Horus, an unavoidable protagonist in Great Heresy, completely shattered his previous image with just one monologue from a Warmaster, turning him into a severely demented patient who could only babble.

Shouting "Father loves me, I love my father," he drew his greatsword and began hacking away, transforming into Puff Superman, hacking away at the Great Angel until he turned into mincemeat and left Old Man Huang paralyzed from the neck down.

Sharing the title of Imperial Double Candy with the MVP of the Great Heresy, the one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn Magic Little Pony My Little Pony, he is the honorary spokesperson for super sweet candy.

In the beginning, Mordred did consider finding an opportunity to eliminate Horus, or secretly imprisoning him and turning him into a living barracks for producing Gene-Seed.

It wasn't just Horus; Mordred had contingency plans for almost every Primarch who might potentially rebel. After all, he was a Wayne; how could he not have a plan?

But upon returning to the Empire, Mordred discovered that things weren't like that at all, especially after contacting Fulgrim, he realized that all his previous plans were wrong.

Take Horus as an example. Before he was turned into a cream puff, he was the best brother among the Primarchs, a respected Imperial Warmaster, and the first Fealty Primarch to Killed in Action.

Mordred can manipulate people's hearts, he can also kill people with gusto, and he can even use a facade of Managed Democracy to make ordinary people screw in his factory.

After all, he believed it was only natural: if I feed you, you should work for me; if the pay isn't good enough,

You can quit anytime.

But he couldn't bring himself to do something that would make good people want to be held at gunpoint, and even if Horus were imprisoned, another person would be stuffed into a puff pastry, which wouldn't solve the fundamental problem.

If you're unlucky enough to be the one stuffed into a puff Guilliman, you might as well just restart. The Ultramarines can mass-produce units to death, unleashing the terrifying potential of a million Space Marine. Just thinking about it is terrifying.

"Damn Guilliman, big ass means you're good at bearing babies! One day I'll turn you into Conventional Weapon and make you obediently give birth to my offspring!" What Conventional Weapon? Brother, I've never asked anyone for anything before, hurry up and let me see it!

Horus, who was hiding with Mordred at the foot of Luna crater, suddenly became agitated, grabbing Mordred's hand and refusing to let go, just like Horus secretly buying pirated DVDs.

"Horus, that's enough! I never thought you were this kind of person. Even if you're cured, you'll still drool. I'm talking about Guilliman!"

Guilliman is famous for his big, fertile butt; his reputation for an extreme, perky butt is known to everyone. In just a few years, large-sized blueberries are everywhere.

Could it be that Atlas is having trouble recruiting soldiers because I'm not big enough? That can't be!

Upon learning there were no photos of the she-wolf, Horus's excitement finally subsided. Watching Mordred's internal monologue and self-absorbed tantrums, after much thought, he finally asked the question he most wanted to know:

"Hey bro, how's it feeling being Warmaster?"

"Awesome! Although Old Man Huang is unfair, only letting me manage people's livelihood and not mobilizing the Imperial Army at all, a knock-off version is still Warmaster. If I hesitate for even a second, it would be disrespectful to my offspring's professional abilities."

Especially those brainless Council of Terra, I just went for a 2-1 kill. Damn bugs, they actually dared to interfere with us.

Am I no longer capable of wielding a sword, or is he too restless? If you ask me, we should let the Space Marines handle administrative affairs; that would be both efficient and fast.

However, after killing this group of people, I also offended everyone I could. I'll deal with it again in fifty years!

But don't worry, I, Mordred, am not someone to be underestimated. I've firmly planted a nail in the Council of Terra. Hearing this, Horus's eyes lit up instantly, suddenly realizing that his brother, aside from being a bit dim-witted, was a complete idiot.

Aside from having poor eyesight, he's a pretty nice person.

"That's right, mortals are mortals after all, and they can never compare to the superhuman Space Marine, no matter how hard they try. Only we can manage this Empire."

Unfortunately, my father doesn't agree with my idea, but I know it must be the work of that treacherous minister, Malcador. Last time I was chatting with my father on the Abomination, because of him, the Emperor casually gave me a small pebble and sent me away."

"Wait! Why is the Emperor on my ship? Take out the pebble and let me see it."

Through their previous clash of ideas, Horus had come to regard Mordred as a like-minded brother, and without the slightest hesitation, he took out the bright green pebble.

Upon seeing the high-purity Chaos Energy Crystal in Horus's hand, Mordred's mind went blank for a moment. He finally realized what he had overlooked and immediately called Atlas to begin returning to his flagship.

Sure enough, when Mordred arrived at the Abomination's Chaos Energy Furnace, the mountain of Chaos Energy Crystal had vanished, leaving only a Golden Giant sprawled in the duty room, frantically performing oral exercises while staring at Dataslate.

"Fuck your mother, you Dogs and Donkeys, listen to me! Gold is the coolest color! Don't insult my amazing wisdom, you ignorant fool!"

You piece of trash, you can't beat me, can you? Once a weakling, always a weakling, ugh!

Perhaps tired of cursing, the Emperor took out a Chaos Energy Crystal, crushed it, poured it into an ice-cold cola, and took a big gulp.

"Cool!"

Seeing this, Mordred's vision blurred. He now knew where his Chaos Energy Crystal had gone, and he also understood why the Emperor, that Dogs and Donkeys, had such inflated ego, constantly consuming this stuff. Wouldn't his humanity explode?

Growing increasingly enraged, Mordred could no longer contain himself, pulled out his pistol and fired wildly before charging straight at them.

"Yellow Skins, you deserve to die!"

Intense plasma shot out, blasting the Game console in the Emperor's hand in mid-air, followed by a giant sword blade falling from the sky.

Mordred was really going all out this time. Those Chaos Energy Crystal were the result of years of hard work and sacrifice by the entire Atlas, as they beat Daemon to save up for them.

But before the blade could fall, Mordred abruptly pulled the greatsword back, simply because the damned Yellow Skins had placed its hand on the floor.

"Old Man Huang, don't be impulsive! The Abomination is innocent. We are all civilized people. We should be reasonable and harmonious!"

"Take your hands off me! I don't want those Chaos Energy Crystal anymore, okay?"

"You said it yourself, I didn't force you, you all heard it."

What could Atlas do? This was their proud Legion Flagship's most prized possession. They would be heartbroken even if it was just scratched. They could only obediently lower their guns and continue to be good boys.

I thought the Emperor was despicable enough, but I never expected this thing to be so shameless. When it comes to shamelessness, Mordred is completely outclassed.

"You Yellow Skins, you think you can play like this? Just you wait, one day you'll regret it."

"What do you mean I'll regret it? We agreed beforehand that all the proceeds from the confiscation would be confiscated, and you could only take half. Tell me, how much did you take?"

Mordred didn't dare to lose his temper now. He had indeed taken a small bribe, but he had done it very discreetly. How did that bastard know?

For the sake of his grand future plans, Mordred had no choice but to swallow his anger. He figured he could just raid more houses later to make up for it; after all, the empire was so big, there were bound to be some shady characters out there.

As for Chaos Energy Crystal, a renewable resource, consider them as food for the dogs; the Daemon in the Warp have an inexhaustible supply.

If we find an opportunity, we can give him a good beating and make up for it.

"Everyone, go home. I guess I'm just unlucky to have such a troublesome bastard like you. But what can I do? We're father and son, after all. When you're completely paralyzed, I'll definitely pull out your oxygen tube."

But then again, I feel like I've suddenly become so busy since becoming a battle master, while you seem to be eating, drinking, and playing games all the time. You're not deliberately making me work for free, are you?"

The last person to say that was none other than the former War Master Ol' Peson. This Perpetual, who was older than the Emperor, had already fled when he saw that things were not going well, leaving only the young Malcador here to be his slave.

Now, the Emperor is finding Mordred increasingly useful, and he's determined not to let him slip away right under his nose.

They've started making empty promises again.

It was obvious that the Emperor was on a private call with Malcador again, which annoyed Mordred so much that he kicked him out.

If you can't even speak properly and need someone else to memorize your lines for you, then what's the point of your existence?

Terra has arrived, and Mordred has earned enough resources to start operations. As for the surveillance agency established by Malcador, Mordred doesn't even want to touch it; he'd rather spend that time building his own sector.

After losing his motivation, Mordred quickly grew tired of the title of Warmaster, because it was just an empty title. No one paid any attention to the planned economy system he proposed, especially in the small, broken planet of Holy Terra, where nowhere was as Serenity and comfortable as his own home.

As the last batch of supplies was transported to Serenity, Mordred felt it was time to leave this place that made him uncomfortable; otherwise, if he waited any longer, he would be tempted to kill everyone.

However, before leaving, Mordred found Horus, who was lingering by the Emperor's side, and gave him a whole container full of photo albums to verify her speculation.

Sure enough, when the Golden Giant descended from the sky and gave Horus a good beating, Mordred finally realized that he was being completely monitored.

The pent-up negative emotions of the past few days finally erupted. The entire Atlas assembles and leaves the Sol Sector without notifying anyone.

After eliminating several options, Mordred finally set his sights on the Lighter he had smuggled from the Emperor. He genuinely liked the cool lighter with its Radiant Gold casing and the Spirit Stone embedded in it.

The more Mordred liked it, the angrier he became. He wanted to throw it away, but he couldn't bear to part with it. In the end, he could only stuff it into his dimensional pocket, deciding to avoid seeing it and getting annoyed.

As the fleet fished for Warp snacks and returned to Serenity, its long-dwindled stockpile of Chaos Energy Crystal began to gradually replenish itself.

As soon as he got home, Goff found Mordred and took him to the Hive Research Institute. Seeing the densely packed recruits who had already begun their Space Marine transformation, Mordred's mood finally improved.

But a new problem arose: as Atlas's production capacity increased, they urgently needed a new overseas market. Given that the Adeptus Mechanicus was a state-owned enterprise while Atlas was essentially a private company, where could they dump their weapons and equipment?

After much deliberation, Mordred immediately set her sights on her second home Ultramar 500 Worlds.

"Guilliman, let me see the ultimate shapely ass!"