Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 136 The Ninth Legion must be wonderful, right?

Before arriving in Baal, Mordred had no idea where the fleet was going, and even after arriving in the Baal system, he didn't know that this godforsaken place was his unfortunate brother's home planet.

Of all the Primarchies, the best homeworld environments are Macragge, Olympia, and Tranquility, with their distinct seasons and pristine natural landscapes.

The next level down includes worlds like Prospero and Krona, which are generally free from natural disasters and man-made calamities, but whose planetary environments are not very good.

The other part consists of places like Nukelia and Noztramo, where the environment is okay, but the people living there are basically no good things to see; it's definitely a man-made disaster.

The remaining worlds are mostly considered death worlds, either extremes of ice and fire, or filled with terrifying beasts bursting with martial spirit; tranquility is also included in them.

When Mordred entered the planet Baal aboard the Stormbird, he finally understood why the Emperor had brought him there: Sanguis was unlike any other Primarch; he had a pair of large chicken wings.

As offspring of the Lord of Mankind, Primarchs are inherently political. Regardless of whether they are human or not, they must at least look like human. Even Mordred would tuck her tail in when she appeared in public.

According to what the Emperor saw, Saint Gilles's large wings were too conspicuous, clearly indicating a deep mutation. He had already prepared for the worst and brought Mordred along for testing and evaluation.

After spending so much time together, the weasel has noticed a phenomenon: Mordred pays special attention to Primarchs who might cause problems, such as Angron, the nail in the coffin.

But after arriving in Baal, Mordred ate and drank every day as if he were on vacation, completely unconcerned, clearly indicating that he had it in the bag.

However, while the two disguised themselves as wasteland junk collectors and had a great time during that week, they left the archangel feeling uneasy.

After acquiring a pair of wings that allow him to soar through the sky, Saint Gilles also possesses a decent amount of spiritual power; otherwise, it would be impossible to explain why those wings could carry him at supersonic speeds.

Beyond flight, Saint Gilles' psychic powers manifested specifically in prophecy.

The archangel had foreseen the Emperor's arrival long before the fleet set off for Baal, but he could never have imagined that the Emperor would play role-playing games with Mordred and carry out a secret infiltration.

Without a doubt, after observing for this period of time, Saint Gilles is as beautiful as a real angel. With his cool wings, he completely surpasses Mordred in terms of fashion sense, making him want to get a pair of wings to show off as well.

Looking at the archangel giving a passionate speech on the high platform, the Emperor became more and more satisfied. Number Nine had perfectly inherited his fine qualities. On the other hand, his unfilial son, who was frantically gnawing on red scorpion meat, was simply worlds apart.

"Eat, eat, all you know is how to eat. How come you don't stuff yourself to death? What else can you do? Leave some for me."

After what happened before, Mordred had come to terms with it. Guilliman was right; the empire was doomed to fail sooner or later, so why was he worrying about it? He should just eat and drink as usual.

"I know a lot. Today I'll show you what Atlas's signature skills are."

Perhaps it was because the emperor's movements were too abrupt, but Saint Gilles spotted the outsider hiding in the crowd at a glance, along with the thief next to him who was reaching into someone else's pocket.

"Father!"

Without any hesitation, Saint Gilles, flapping his wings, came before the Emperor, knelt down on one knee, and grabbed the jerky from the Emperor's hand.

This move drew gasps from countless NPCs, and the show-offy weasel immediately shone with golden light, shoving the jerky into Mordred's mouth with lightning speed, instantly transforming into his golden giant form.

“My son, I am the Lord of mankind, I am…, you are my proudest offspring…, join me in the Great Expedition.”

Although they were not at the same time or in the same place, they had the exact same dialogue options. Mordred suspected that Old Man Huang's story was written for him in advance by Makado.

But the Primarch was easily swayed by this. Adorned with an alluring aura, and after the Emperor's passionate speech, Sanguires demonstrated to Morred what the proper procedure was: swearing allegiance to the Emperor before all the Baal. "Father, is the one who came with you my brother?"

Before the weasel could even speak, Mordred shoved the Emperor aside, and it was finally his turn to show off:

"Ahem, that's right! I am Mordred Wayne, the Imperial War Marshal, Lord of the Tranquil 50 Worlds, Commander of the Atlas Legion, Grand Mentor of the Assassin's Court, Sovereign of the Dogmen, Creator of the Lizardmen, the Empire's First Biological Master, and a man of unparalleled wisdom!"
But I prefer you to call me Second Brother!

Clearly, Mordred's long title was much cooler than the Emperor's, instantly attracting the attention of all the old farmers in Baal, who sighed inwardly that outsiders were indeed different, with names getting longer and longer.

"Second brother! There's not enough room for so many people to stand here."

"Haha, good brother, you really have good taste."

When you're out in the world, your reputation is earned, that's a unique characteristic of our empire. You'd better come up with a cool nickname for yourself, or you'll embarrass us brothers!

Mordred put his arm around Saint Gilles' shoulder, feeling that his brother was a bit of a green tea b*tch, not as enthusiastic as he appeared, but rather a bit cunning.

"Don't listen to Old Huang's nonsense. He has never changed his mind. He tells everyone that you are his proudest offspring. He even told my apprentice that you are his proudest demi-human in order to trick Rambo into becoming his private chef."

"You weasel, you can't change your ways... *cluck*!"

Before Mordred could finish speaking, the Emperor grabbed her by the neck and flung her into the sky behind him. In just two seconds, she turned into a shooting star and disappeared from sight.

"Father, this..."

"Don't worry, this bastard is tough and resilient. There's no way you can kill him."

The archangel's gaze wavered for a moment, but the name Mordred was still deeply etched in his mind, wondering if all his brothers were such oddballs.

Without Mordred interfering, the Emperor and the Archangel had a very lively conversation, and when the Emperor expressed his intention to give Saint Gilles a legion, the Ninth Prince was so excited that he shed a tear of true joy.

To show his care, the Emperor even brought an archangel to the Emperor Dream to select equipment and gifted Mordred an endless energy source sealed with psionic energy. Mordred watched with envy.

However, the initial excitement quickly faded, and the Emperor, like a scoundrel, turned and ran, ordering Mordred to stay behind and take over the legions for his beloved son, Saint Gilles.

Because it happened so suddenly, the angel, who hadn't even recovered from the shock, was kicked back into Baal.

Gazing at the endless yellow sand, Saint Gilles sensed something was amiss, yet still held onto hope, asking his brother Mordred:
"Second brother, why do I feel that Father is a little different from what I imagined?"
That's understandable, though. Someone like him must be very busy. But then again, the thought of seeing my offspring soon makes me a little excited!

Do you know what my legion is really like?

"Ah this!"

Recalling how even when they went to Tranquility to replenish supplies, the ghouls were relegated to a corner by all the legions, Mordred couldn't think of a euphemistic way to describe it, and could only vaguely say:

"It's bound to bring you endless surprises! You're in luck, kid."

(End of this chapter)