Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 115 Peturabo: So love will disappear, right?

The abrupt declaration, "I am Rogdorn," instantly dampened the spirits of the two, one big and one small, who had been secretly plotting against each other.

Even Makado plopped down, completely unlike his previous shrewd and calculating demeanor. He was so stiff that he opened his mouth and closed his eyes, looking like a senile old man.

The reason the Hand of the Emperor is in such an awkward position is none other than the fact that the person standing in front of the door is the Primarch of the Imperial Fist—Rogg Dorn!
Roguedorn, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, has a series of nicknames, including the Imperial Pressure King, the Big Guy of the Civil Engineering Duo, the Cute One, the Atmosphere Destroyer, Khorne's Lifelong Enemy, and the Final Wall.

After all, not every Primarch can control the evil god for four hundred years. He can still walk as fast as lightning while holding the head of the Tenth Brother in his left hand, carrying Angel-chan in his right hand, and carrying his half-dead father on his back.

Because of his early return, Rogdorn, with his unyielding charisma, took over the construction projects of the entire solar system, far surpassing the little brat Perturabo. He even supervised the construction of the Terra Palace.

The harsh winds of Inwitt forged Roguendorn's resilience, and his grandfather's kindness illuminated his childhood. Among all the Primarchs, Roguendorn is a true role model of perseverance. Moreover, this guy even has a pocket empire, making him a product of his own investment.

Most Primarchs were either fathers searching for their sons, found by the big golden guy from some hidden corner, or blasted out by Tom using a Stormbird. Only Dorne found the Emperor himself in his Mountain Strike.

Most importantly, Ke'erduo is extremely loyal, to the point that even the emperor is afraid of him. In addition, he is straightforward and has a way of speaking that can shut people up with a single sentence. Everyone who has met him is unwilling to communicate with him, which is a form of torture.

Looking at this tough guy, Mordred was stunned for a long time before he managed to utter half a sentence:

"I am Mordred Wayne, War Marshal of the Empire, your second brother ˋ(°▽、°)"

“(￣m￣) I am Roger Dorn, a Terran Royal Guard…”

Mordred waited and waited, thinking that the guy hadn't finished speaking, only to see Dorn posing with his amazing jawline, staring at him with wide eyes, just like a human-machine interface.

An incredibly awkward atmosphere filled the room. Macardo pretended to be dead, Mordred pondered, and Dorn was nowhere to be seen. The three of them stared at each other strangely, while Sally reached into Mordred's pocket and secretly took two candies.

Finally, Mordred, who was looking to both sides with her eyes fixed on either side, couldn't hold back any longer. She found a chair for Dorn to sit down and spoke first to ease the awkwardness:
"Brother, I remember you were sent on the Great Crusade by the Emperor, how come you've suddenly returned to Terra?"

"The enemies around Taran have been eliminated, so I returned, only to find you wreaking havoc on the court." As always, Dorne was sparing with words. After speaking, he turned back into that stubborn rock, staring intently at the two of them.

Such a stiff exchange made Makado sigh, and he directly said:
"Dorn, the Assassin's Court is necessary. There are always those little bugs hiding in the gutter who want to cause trouble, and the Council needs ways to deal with these worms."

Where there is sunlight, there is shadow. The emperor has already borne too much, and I am the sharp blade that clears away his shadows.

Seeing that he was about to argue again, Macado immediately pulled out his cane and slammed it hard on Mordred's head, as if to say, "If you dare to speak, I'll kill your brother."

"No, you should hit him, why are you hitting me!"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." The one who held up the scepter reached out and patted Mordred's head, gritting his teeth as he spoke:

"It's all because of you, you bastard. I was supposed to handle a few typical cases, but instead you killed half of the officials. In the end, all the pressure fell on me. You did a really bad job."

That's undeniably true. Mordred is treating noble officials like pigs to be slaughtered, creating an atmosphere of fear among everyone. "And you, if you can't speak properly, shut up. What do you mean by 'disrupting the court'? Do I need to disrupt the court?"
"I found your fathers, and I carry this vast empire on my shoulders. Why don't you come to the government office, and I'll go on a distant expedition?"

"Hey, Lao Ma, what are you saying? You're the Imperial Weightlifting Champion. Don't be angry, come and have a smoke."

Mordred quickly removed the Macado cane, pulled out a box of Rick 2 and handed it to Sally, while also putting a gas mask over Sally's head to protect her from secondhand smoke.

As three plumes of smoke rose, Dorn, Mordred, and Sally sat obediently according to their height, listening to Macardo recount his plans—the Court of Judges to oversee officials, the Court of Assassins for field operations, and the intricate political structure that left them bewildered.

"Why do I have this feeling that this strange old man and that emperor have more than just a simple monarch-subject relationship? It's like those comics in your room, something about Little Mara..."

This unexpected remark drew everyone's attention. Seeing Sally's outrageous words, Mordred quickly covered her mouth.
“The child is naive and accidentally blurted out the truth. Makado, please continue. We will not laugh at you.”

Before Mordred could finish speaking, he saw Macado's face darken, and crackling arcs of psionic energy appeared around him. He then unleashed a psionic punch that sent the three of them flying.

As the door closed automatically, Mordred looked at Sally, who was huddled beside him, and lifted up his outspoken, ranking-up underling to lecture her:

"Don't say everything in the future, just keep it to yourself. Also, read less of those inappropriate books."

“That’s right, those things aren’t really suitable for someone your age.” Dorn’s tone remained cold, but Mordred had grasped the key point.

"Well, Roger Dorn, so you're a bit of a brooding pervert! But then again, Dorn, would you be interested in studying the world's greatest architecture with me?"

Upon hearing the keyword "greatest architecture," Dorn's interest was instantly piqued, and his passion for civil engineering ignited.

"what is that?"

"Of course it's Star Torch. I want to build a faster-than-light communication device that can be used by the Empire. Otherwise, why do you think I'm working for Macado? It's because I haven't accumulated enough skill points."

Dorn certainly knew about the Star Torch. It was a relic that had been passed down since the Dark Ages, and it was thanks to the Star Torch that Imperial ships were not lost in the depths of the Warp.

Wherever the starlight shines, humanity will not be scattered across the galaxy like it was in the Old Night Era, becoming an isolated and helpless pocket world.

But the outspoken Dorn never considers others, and his thoughts never linger in his mind for even half a second before he blurts them out without thinking.

"So, Mordred, are you planning to start anew and establish a second empire?"

"...Don't talk nonsense, I didn't!"

(End of this chapter)