Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 105 Feels Not as Good as One of Slaanesh's

Throughout history, aside from the big golden guy, Mordred is probably the only one who can negotiate with the four hawkers.

In order to take down Mordred, the kobolds have even decided to sever ties with Angron and never have anything to do with that good-for-nothing again.

Of course, angels are still necessary. They are the white moonlight that Khorne desires most. After all, who doesn't like archangels?
He wants both of them!

A thunderous whisper descended from the sky, causing countless bloodthirsty demons to halt their battles and prepare to listen to the supreme teachings of their gods. Some even cast envious glances at Mordred, lamenting that they were not the ones so favored by the gods.

Mordred only felt annoyed. The kobold's speech was like it had reverb added, a bunch of gibberish that Mordred couldn't understand a single word of, and it made his head buzz and dizzy.

"Why are you yelling so loudly?" The fearless Mordred never tolerated it. He picked up the skull from the ground and threw it at him, then yelled even louder at him.

But the more disrespectful they were, the happier Khorne became, believing that his previous investment was worthwhile and that only such an unruly person deserved Him.

"Boy, I admire you! As long as you leave that cursed one, I will make you my eternal champion, and grant you unparalleled power!"

"An eternal champion, and immense power? And then what?"

What? And then? This completely baffled Khorne. He thought Mordred was dissatisfied, but who knew he simply liked the little thing and then promised other honors:

"Besides power, I also bestow upon you the supreme honor of becoming my son, my right-hand man, and from now on we can address each other as father and son." Khorne continued to add to the favor; that's how much He loved talent.

"But I have all of those things you're talking about! I'm an Imperial War Marshal now. Don't tell me you don't know what an Emperor is. Can you even beat him?"

Upon hearing this, the kobold was furious. He hated it most when people said he was no good: "I'm not afraid of that cursed one. I am Khorne! I am the strongest."

"Pfft..." Mordred couldn't help but laugh out loud. He was so cowardly when he said tough words, yet he wanted to be the boss. You dog-headed man are such a loser.

"Alright, alright, you're the strongest, okay? Since you're already here, I'll give you an analysis."

Such treasonous words would surely incur the wrath of the Blood God. The bloodthirsty demons had already figured out how this unfortunate soul would die, but to their utter surprise, their usually furious god did not kill the human, contrary to his usual behavior.

This led some demons to suspect that they had been corrupted by the Tzeentch Birdmen, those useless bunch who only knew how to scheme and plot.

The kobold's actions terrified not only the demon but also Mordred himself. He was already preparing to return to the city and run away, now he could indulge in his suicidal behavior for a few more minutes, and his expression became increasingly arrogant and unrestrained.

"Fine, I'd like to hear your explanation."

"Of course there is, let me explain in detail."

You said you'd make me your eternal champion, but if you calculate it that way, I'd be equivalent to the Primarch of the Yellow Skin. But there are only a few Primarchs; can you guarantee I'll be the only eternal champion?

For some reason, the giant dog-headed man found these words very reasonable, especially the word "yellow weasel," which pleased him greatly. Even the great demons around him agreed with this explanation and wanted to hear him continue.

"And the power you speak of, I have no shortage of." Mordred casually grabbed the nearest Khorne archdeacon, showing none of the fear one might feel when facing demons. Instead, he patted the archdeacon's incredibly powerful and imposing body, and asked:

"Handsome guy, if you came to the physical universe, would you be confident you could defeat me?"

Before their own gods, the Great Demons certainly wouldn't dare to lie, saying that after entering the physical universe, their power was reduced to less than one-tenth, and only the most powerful Great Demons could contend with the Primarch.

"Very good. A pragmatic demon like you is a rare find these days. If you ever have the chance, you can come and work for my Atlas. I guarantee you excellent benefits!"

To show her sincerity, Mordred even gave each demon a fel crystal and a recruitment poster in front of Khorne.

"So I told you, none of these conditions you've offered are attractive at all! At least give me some real benefits. Even the emperor knows to make me collect taxes and confiscate property. What good are these empty titles? You think I'd risk my life for you?"

Especially the one who made me your offspring—that's an abyss within an abyss.

The demons were puzzled. Becoming a god's child was a privilege they dreamed of, so why did you, you bastard, speak of it so utterly worthless? Even the kobold, lost in thought, spoke up:
"Why?" "Why! You still ask me why?" Mordred's voice grew louder, as if he was holding back a lot of resentment. He pushed aside the demons and came to Khorne's feet, kicking him in the toenail.

"Just because I am the offspring of that damned weasel, that rebellious father beats me every day, not only does he keep me down, but he also treats me like a piece of trash and I have to clean up his mess."

Before I joined you, I only had one father, and only one person could keep me in check. But after joining you, I came to the Warp, and now I have at least four fathers above me. Didn't I come here for nothing?"

Khorne understood now. Thinking of those few good-for-nothings, although being rejected made him very unhappy, he still felt there was some truth to it. Ultimately, it was a matter of insufficient treatment, so he decided to go all in.

"I can grant you the right to stand on a throne beside me, to become my right hand of God. Together we will enjoy the endless joy of war and bloodshed." This was the greatest concession Khorne could offer, after all, his left hand was still to be given to the angels.

Such an honor drove the great demons mad with envy. They only regretted that they were not the Primarch, who could become their superior with just a nod, and was even the Right Hand of God, far superior to them, who were nothing more than cattle and horses.

Mordred, however, remained completely unmoved. It was laughable. Although he always called the Empire trash, it was still not Chaos. Besides, he was a complete Frankenstein's monster. What did the explosion of the Warp have to do with him?

Feeling that he had absorbed enough of the warp energy, Mordred knew that if he continued to absorb any more, his body might explode. He paced back and forth, as if contemplating a choice, gradually moving away from the evil god behind him.

When Mordred returned to the spot where he first appeared, having timed it perfectly, he raised his hands and shouted:
"All eyes are on me, I have something to announce!"

Mordred, instantly becoming the center of attention, shone brightly and declared righteously:

"Khorne, I see you're really stubborn. Do you remember what you said at the beginning? In order to get me to join you, you actually abandoned my good brother Angron."

"You're so despicable. To me, you're like a lapdog, so pathetic, so utterly repulsive, and so stingy."

Lies don't hurt, the truth is the sharpest blade. Khorne felt something suddenly shatter, but Mordred continued to attack:
"Don't think you can claim kinship with me just because you have a dog's head. If you're a sycophant once, you'll be a sycophant for life. If you can abandon others, it means you can abandon me too."

"No, I will never abandon you. You are different from others!" That extremely disdainful look deeply hurt his pride. Khorne would never admit that he was a lowly sycophant.

"Tsk, what about them?" Mordred pointed to the demons around him and continued to press, "They've followed you for so many years, why should I receive such an honor as soon as I arrive?"

Think about it, guys. A boss like that doesn't deserve your loyalty at all. Just like he did to me, he only gives you empty promises and you'll never get any real benefits.

Bah! You useless dog, Tzeentch is smarter than you and can teach me knowledge, Nurgle is more generous than you and can make me soup, and Slaanesh can even give me pleasure. What good are you?
"Why not grab a greatsword and cosplay as Aatrox, then be your Nasus Rammus!"

Khorne, no longer able to bear the humiliation, stood up abruptly from his brass throne. The extreme humiliation and rage consumed his last shred of reason.

Seeing the kobold suddenly stand up, Mordred sensed something was wrong and immediately made his escape. His emerald fel energy materialized, rising from his feet like lava, pulling his thoughts back to his body. No one could stop him from leaving.

But in the final moments, Mordred still wanted to pull one last gamble, shouting:
"Khorne, you're not even as good as Slaanesh's cum. Go lick Nurgle's breasts. Don't contact me again, I'm afraid Tzeentch will misunderstand. Sayonara~"

boom!
Mordred's afterimage was pierced by a giant battle blade burning with raging flames, fel lava exploded out, and even the Khorne Domain was engulfed in crimson fury. Countless demons perished and began to flee in all directions.

The furious roar of Khorne could be heard throughout the entire warp, and a terrifying tide rose up, sweeping away countless unfortunate warp creatures.

But what does all this have to do with Mordred? What does the life or death of the warp have to do with him? The more chaotic things get, the more he can profit from it and collect valuable demon materials.

Opening his eyes and feeling the immense power within his body, Mordred was overjoyed. Although Khorne was a sycophant, that demonic realm was indeed a wonderful place; it was the first time he had ever eaten so heartily.

Eating too much is not a good thing either. The Emperor had warned Mordred long ago, but he didn't take it to heart at all, which has led to an extremely awkward situation.

"Oh no, I can't change back."

........................

Failure Diary: Whenever someone in the author group takes off, someone will suddenly appear and praise them to the skies. This isn't just flattery to kill, but rather a mutual appreciation among failures. "If we become rich and powerful, let's not forget each other, woof~"
(End of this chapter)