Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 113 The Ability That Horus Must Never Know

People can laugh when they are extremely speechless, but Angron is a nail; he can't laugh at all without a mouth.

Fortunately, people who are good at giving up are very resilient. After lowering his bottom line step by step, Angron accepted the fact, but he still chose Unit-01.

After all, being a big, muscular man is more in line with his psychological expectations than being a little girl or a cow cat.

"Tsk, I think you don't understand at all." Mordred, with her hand on her forehead, tossed her long hair, and with a surge of flesh and blood, she instantly transformed into a dashing blonde woman, and then into a giant corgi with yellow and white hair.

This sudden scene startled Anglong so much that even his nails trembled. He roared, "Holy crap, Second Brother, you were a dog all along!"

"Woof! You're the dog, your whole family are dogs." Mordred stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, his dog eyes revealing a contemptuous expression in a surprisingly human way:
“Foolish child, do you know what the Primarch’s greatest strength is? Let me tell you, it’s our ability to produce Space Marines indefinitely.”

As long as the Primarch survives, even if the Legion is wiped out, as long as one is willing to be ruthless, it won't take many years to mass produce more troops.

"In this world, you need power and class, not to be a mere soldier who just hacks and slashes. Can you even beat a tank? You think you're some kind of tough guy?"

Mordred, now in human form, grabbed his foolish brother and pointed to the body sealed by the static force field, saying:
"Both of these bodies were made using a part of you. As long as you go in and merge with them, even this Jiba Cat can fulfill the duties of the original body and still produce gene seeds. The only difference is the performance."

But putting performance aside, Unit-02 is my proudest creation. It can fight alongside the cat, has an appealing appearance, and its brain processing capabilities have been enhanced with Guilliman's genes.

"Believe it or not, if you were to switch bodies, taking over the legion would be incredibly smooth. That canned kid would be so happy his brain would explode. How about it? Are you sure you don't want to consider it?"

"Sorry, I refuse!"

No matter how eloquently Mordred spoke, Angron remained steadfast in his choice of Unit-01. The thought of transforming into a cute little girl sent chills down his spine.

Seeing that this guy was determined to become a melee fighter, Mordred didn't try to persuade him any further, and gestured for Angron to go inside quickly, as he still needed to eat later.

Looking at the body in front of him, Angron had no idea how to get inside. He could only manipulate his head to look at the creator of all this.

Thinking it was something serious, Mordred was about to suggest putting it in the mouth, but then she changed her mind and instead pried open the Primarch's legs, pointing to the dark, deep opening and saying:

"Okay, let's go in here!"

"What? You want me to go in from here?"

Since things had come to this, Angron had no choice but to act out of kindness. He threw himself into the hole, thankfully the body hadn't been used before, or he would have been covered in excrement.

But just as he extended the tentacles into his body, he heard Mordred say in a pretentious manner, "Actually, it can go in through the mouth too."

Upon hearing this, Angron felt an urge to kill Mordred, but he was no match for him and could only swallow his anger. He muttered to himself, "If Horus finds out you can shapeshift, you'll be sorry."

Following the elevator, the two quickly returned to the top floor of the palace. Magnus, who had been preparing for a long time, was even more excited than if he had seen his own mother when he saw that Anglon had come out alive and well.

“Brother, you’re finally out. You have no idea what kind of hardship I’ve been going through these past few months. That Makado kept making me work for him and wouldn’t even pay for my meals.”

He gets angry whenever he thinks about it. Every time they eat and drink their fill, Macardo finds all sorts of excuses to skip out on the bill, and the food is ridiculously expensive, many times more expensive than Prospero's.

Listening to Magnus's tirade, Mordred suddenly remembered that he seemed to have taken on a job overseeing the Assassin's Court. He wondered if that old bastard Macado had lost his mind, actually letting him get involved. But compared to work, Mordred was more looking for a good meal. After being given intravenous nutrition every day for over three months, his mouth was practically tasteless.

"Stop talking, it's just the cost of a meal. I have plenty of money, Second Brother. Let's go, since Anglong has turned over a new leaf, we should have a good meal to celebrate his birthday!"

As soon as he finished speaking, several figures suddenly darted out from the corner. It was Joseph, the Ninth Company Commander who had been left in Terra, and Atlas's spy kid.

"Father, I know a restaurant with the best food. Let's go there together!"

Looking at the expectant eyes of everyone, Mordred thought about it and realized that there were only about twenty people, including the three brothers, and he had plenty of money.

But as soon as they took two steps, they saw that their boss, the dog-man, had also followed, with Rambo, the chief disciple, leading the way. They definitely had to bring him along.

However, Mordred was unaware that as the three brothers walked the streets, more and more people followed them, including Atlas, Magnus's Thousand Sons, and even a few members of the Imperial Guard, all wanting to join in the fun.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Mordred had no choice but to treat the seven thousand people who were eagerly waiting and staring at him with strange expressions.

"Great! Long live the War General!"

"I'll still vote for you in the next war commander election. Your Highness can lead us to conquer the Milky Way."

Mordred didn't know if he could break through the galaxy, but he knew his allowance was about to be depleted. How could prices in Terra be so expensive? A slice of toast cost him half a Throne Coin.

Mordred, having found the boss, wanted to use her connections to get a discount, but her usually effective charm failed her. The boss, who spoke with a thick Ancient Terra Middle Eastern accent, didn't care about that; he only cared about money.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and the Warhounds, far away in the galaxy, finally returned to Holy Terra and witnessed firsthand their powerful Primarch.

Aside from being a little short, standing at only 3.3 meters tall, Angron received unanimous praise from all the Space Marines, especially the adorable kitten perched on the Primarch's shoulder, which made the Primarch seem even more approachable.

The Twelfth Legion finally received its name, the World Eaters. The only slight disappointment was that the Emperor did not appear at the Angron return ceremony.

Perhaps sensing the thoughts of the crowd, a giant golden creature covered in dog hair descended from the sky and came directly in front of the World Devourer, where it began its indispensable passionate speech.

Others enjoyed listening, but Mordred had already sampled enough and slipped away to the bottom of the hive.

Unlike the splendor surrounding the palace, the lower levels of the city are a breeding ground for evil. Even the air is exceptionally sweet; one breath refreshes the mind, two breaths keep you tireless, and three breaths grant immortality, allowing you to ascend to heaven and be reborn.

Sure enough, Mordred hadn't been wandering around for more than a few minutes when he ran into several gang members extorting protection money.

Mordred shot the few eyesores who had offended his eyes and was about to leave when he saw a little girl huddled in a corner, staring at him longingly.

"Are you the War Commander?"

"No, I'm Batman."

(End of this chapter)