Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 106 Burn, Nukelia!

Ever since humanity first set foot in the stars, the seeds of curiosity have been sown, and everyone wants to see what the outside world is like.

However, the distance between the stars is like an insurmountable chasm. Without faster-than-light travel, it would take years to send a single message. By then, the daylily wouldn't just be cold, it would be completely rotten!

Unable to defeat them despite their best efforts, the pitiful, terrifying upright apes could only grit their teeth and struggle in the vicinity of the solar system before the 18K, until the subspace engine, which had been declared scrapped, was proposed again.

Only then did humanity realize that the path to "salvation" was right in their hands, and immediately began a vigorous era of interstellar colonization, like a pack of wild dogs that had broken free.

Thanks to the non-linear time unique to subspace, the travel time that would normally take more than a decade has been compressed to the extreme, making its superior performance far superior to that of a sublight-speed engine.

Especially in the era before the Slaanesh were born, the Warp, while not as gentle as the fairytale world it was before the War of Heaven, was still relatively stable.

Humans, having enjoyed this immensely, never considered developing other methods of faster-than-light travel and have been using subspace engines ever since.

Everyone says the Warp is a cesspool, but Warp travel is so fast that all its drawbacks are no longer a problem. What's wrong with being a Snow Eater? Some races aren't even qualified to eat it.

The Tau people are the most qualified to speak on this matter. Before the warning signal even reached their homeland, the Imperial fleet arrived first, and it was none other than the Tau's mortal enemy—the Luna-class cruiser.

In other words, not many fleets came. If only a few more Luna-class cruisers had come, the brain-dead plot of the Dark Raven Guard commander being beheaded by Tatell wouldn't have happened.

Looking around at the empty ruins of the hive city, Mordred, still unable to find a way to restore it to its original state, began to have wild thoughts again. He discovered that there wasn't a single person in Nukelia.

Atlas is gone, the Ultramarines are gone, and even the humans corrupted by Chaos are all gone. Where have they all gone?
And this foul-smelling smog obscures the view even when Mordred stares with all six of his eyes wide open.

"Strange."

Unable to contact anyone, Mordred believed that this was due to the time discrepancy caused by his wandering around the Khorne Demon Realm, similar to the time difference between a day in heaven and a year on earth in the movie "一路向西" (One Way to the West). He didn't know how long he had been absent, and moss had even grown on the ground.

Although Mordred knew her offspring were unreliable, she believed they still loved her and were perhaps still fighting the enemy, just too busy to spare the time.

Seeing that no one was around, the ferocious beast, which had grown to two hundred meters tall, stretched out its long tail, scraped off a layer of moss, and brought it to its mouth. Mordred had never tasted moss before, so this was a good opportunity to sample it.

"Tsk, this tastes wrong!" The monster, which was licking its tail vigorously, paused for a moment and frowned in a very human-like manner: "Why do I smell meat in the moss? This doesn't seem to be moss."

"Forget it, let me light a cigarette. I can use this moss to grow a big mushroom."

Mordred, overjoyed, was unaware that a full month had passed since he lost his senses, the space naval battle had long ended, and Atlas had even plundered the battlefield.

As for why Mordred was left alone on the ground, it was entirely because this bastard was possessive of his food, making the plan to use the anti-gravity engine to take him away completely impossible.

The green paste-like substance is not moss at all, but a thick organic soup melted and decomposed by the viral bomb, and the smog is flammable and explosive methane.

Guilliman wouldn't do something so despicable. Only a bunch of filial sons like Atlas would think of using a viral bomb to blow up their own Primarch. Looking at Nukelia, which had fully fermented and whose entire atmosphere had become flammable, the Primarch didn't make a move, even with repeated assurances from the Atlas leadership.

"I truly regret believing your nonsense! Are you sure Mordred won't be blown up? Angron, you'd better be my witness!"

"Don't look at me, I don't know anything. You were the one who dropped the virus bomb. It has nothing to do with me." A slightly somber voice came from the coffin, shirking responsibility for the murder of the war commander.

Perhaps because of the two nails planted in his body, Angron has miraculously found a balance between the perverted succubus and the brainless butcher, exuding a kind of lazy, retired old cadre vibe.

Once he was safe, Angron had Guilliman find a coffin made of adamantite and used chains to bind his upper body into a tight shape, leaving only a hole for him to breathe and eat, and two legs for him to move around.

For Angron, a ruthless man who chose to drive the Butcher's Nail into his own skull to avoid falling into depravity, mere imprisonment was far too easy.

If Guilliman hadn't held him back, Angron would have cut off his own limbs to ensure that even in a frenzy he wouldn't accidentally hurt others, highlighting how he didn't consider himself human.

Seeing the Primarch rambling on again, Goff, as the first in line to the throne of Atlas, assured him:
"Don't worry, Your Highness. Our father is invincible. He can't be killed even by naval gunfire. It's just a virus bomb, not a whirlwind torpedo. You're really more worried than the Emperor!"

It's only because Guilliman has a good temper that he knows the entire Atlas crew is mentally unstable; otherwise, the Honor Guard would have gone up and started beating people up without him even having to say a word.

"Yes, yes, Father, putting aside everything else, I, Tom, am the most qualified to speak on the matter of being indestructible. We Atlas have a special tactic of using Primarchs to draw fire."

Moreover, virus bombs don't explode on their own; they require high temperatures to detonate, at least at the plasma level, so they're very safe!

It's only because the Cyclone torpedo is so precious that this filthy planet would have been shattered long ago.

"Boom~"

Before Tom could finish speaking, everyone saw a giant mushroom cloud rise from Nu Star, instantly igniting the planet's atmosphere and sweeping across the entire planet with unstoppable force.

But the sharp-eyed Guilliman noticed that a black dot seemed to be rapidly approaching, heading straight for the Makrag Glory, and that thing was carrying something in its mouth.

In the blink of an eye, within a few seconds, the dark shape had broken free of the planet's gravity and crashed into the ship's deck, leaving only its still-smoking torso writhing outside.

The sudden depressurization of the ship's cabin caused its protective armor to activate, and a thick layer of terracotta armor plating slammed into Mordred's neck, nearly severing his head.

Looking at Goff, who was only a few meters away from him, Mordred, who had just eaten a mouthful of armor, subconsciously swallowed and grinned foolishly:
"MAN! Children, I'm back. Where are Guilliman and that bastard Anglona? Why are there two feet on the ground?"

“(＃°Д°)(。_。)
"not good."

(End of this chapter)