Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 121 Blue is the color that represents wisdom
The question of what demons truly are has been debated for a long time, with each scholar offering their own unique perspective. The only certainty is that these so-called warp demons are all born from the tides of souls.

Perhaps it's a war, or a murder, or even whether one drinks sweet or savory tofu pudding in the morning—all of these can give rise to a group of tofu pudding demons from the sea of ​​the soul.

As for whether this group of tofu pudding demons will split into savory and sweet factions and stage a tofu pudding rebellion, no one can predict the outcome.

But without a doubt, in the energy world of the subspace, the strength of the physical body does not affect everything; what truly determines strength is its symbolic nature.

Take the first murder in human history as an example. Because it was the first murder of the human race, its symbolic significance directly shaped the demon Draconion in the Warp.

At that time, humans were still a primitive group, struggling even to make a fire. It's not an exaggeration to call the Eldar a monkey, but because of its symbolism, Draconion possessed the characteristic of attacking humans.

Furthermore, as the human race multiplies and thrives, Draconion will only grow stronger, essentially a cancerous cell bound to humanity.

The warp has no time sequence; existence is everything, and everything is for the sake of existence. It is precisely because of this characteristic that the war in Heaven is all the more significant.

Did the four peddlers who possessed the power to prove eternity not want to change history and gain an advantage for themselves since the War of Heaven? Of course they did, but they were no match for those ancient powerhouses.

Leaving aside the Star Gods who are comparable to the Four Little Vendors, the Ancient Saints, born with a silver spoon in their mouths and practically bug-like subspace administrators, are enough to make the Four Little Vendors kneel down and call them father.

The War of Heaven was not something that ended in a year or two; it was an epic war that modern humans cannot comprehend, lasting for millions of years.

On a battlefield of that intensity, Space Marines are no match for dogs, Primarchs are everywhere, and without the power of an Emperor, you wouldn't even qualify to be a regional ruler; you'd just be cannon fodder.

Mordred even suspected that it was the destruction of the Old Ones and countless races that led to the sacrifice and birth of the three noble creatures: Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Khorne.

Seeing Seele suddenly explode into a pile of minced meat, covering the entire floor, Mordred was heartbroken. He thought she was going to give him a Mega Evolution, but instead she just exploded.

"Seele, my poor Seele, why did you leave without a word? The Skull of Carlos that I just mentioned is gone just like that? You could at least leave me some ashes!"

Fortunately, the Emperor, that giant golden figure, was present. The psionic primitive immediately saw the problem and slapped Mordred on the head:
"Stop howling! Your demonic pet isn't dead. Can't you see it's still moving? Are you just using those eyes to vent your anger?"

Following the Emperor's finger, Mordred indeed saw the pieces of flesh on the ground slowly wriggling, and those pieces of flesh were targeting his own shadow.

Perhaps sensing her master's gaze, Seele, who had already turned into minced meat, wriggled even more joyfully, and within a few seconds, she was completely absorbed into Mordred's shadow.

A dark, shadowy mist rose from all around, and the occasional flashes of fel energy indicated that something was about to be born. All the Atlas instinctively looked toward the bridge.

After Mordred's shadow completely disappeared and was swallowed up by the shadow mist, a cry rang out from the Abomination, radiating outwards through the warp.

With such a grand entrance, it couldn't be anything less than spectacular, and Mordred was already looking forward to the changes in her pet.

"Old Huang, what do you think this demon will become? Will it inherit my supreme power?" The Emperor remained silent, suddenly recalling the question Astartes had asked him when he created Mordred. Astartes had asked him the same question back then.

At that time, I just kept adding flour when there was too much water, and adding water when there was too much flour. I stuffed in whatever I could find, including some dangerous items that I couldn't handle at all.

The second one's shattered warp sparks, chaotic and twisted debris, fragments of Eldar abominations, a strange, dark, shadow-like creature, green-skinned orcs, fragments of a celestial being, and other scraps left over from the Primarchs...

In short, in the end, even the emperor didn't know what he had stuffed in. At that time, the empire was in its early stages, and there were blasphemous creations everywhere.

To prevent these things from causing endless harm, Mordred is the perfect dumping ground. After all, that twisted flesh that can dissolve everything won't die, so just throw it in.

Of course, the Emperor would never say this out loud; he still needed Mordred to work for him, so he would just pretend to be stupid.

However, despite his feigned ignorance, the Emperor was also curious about what kind of monster Mordred could raise, completely unaware that he had also gone astray.

As the shadowy mist dissipated, the first thing revealed was a living staff with five eyeballs, which looked quite wise.

Its claws, covered in chitinous shells, gripped the staff handle firmly, and its thick, long tail, covered in sharp bone spurs, was just like Mordred's.

Perhaps because it had devoured Carlos, a magic book bearing the inscription "Imperial Twin Eagles" hung from its waist, with dark blue bird feathers rising in layers from its wings on its back.

Looking at the strange humanoid figure in front of him, with its blue and black body, short, messy hair, and robes similar to Carlos's, Mordred could sense the connection between her and him. This was the useless demon he had raised for so long.

However, after consuming his own shadow, the connection became even deeper, like another version of himself, and he also felt something surging from within him toward the other.

But for some reason, through those pale blue eyes, Mordred always felt that this guy wasn't very smart. But then she thought, Carlos is known as a smart demon who knows 5000 years of history, so she absolutely couldn't judge a book by its cover.

Especially considering the surging, vast evil energy emanating from the other party's body, it's clear that they are a spellcaster specializing in witchcraft; they must be an intelligent talent.

"Good, as expected of someone who inherited my extraordinary wisdom. Let me see what abilities you have."

However, when she heard Mordred speak, Seele did not display any sorcery. Instead, she waved her staff and smashed the adamantite deck next to her with one blow. She walked forward with a disdainful look and patted Mordred's little blond hair.

"How can such so-called psionic sorcery compare to my muscular body, which has been tempered and refined over thousands of years?"

"And what are you looking at? Look at me again and I'll slap you! My name is Morgan, I am the Lord of the Legion! You're called Mordred? Call me 'Mommy'!"

(End of this chapter)