Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 153 A new storm has emerged
When the Abomination returned to Tranquil Starport, Atlas was greeted with a grand parade, with everyone celebrating the victory, even though most of the soldiers had no recollection of what they had done.

This made the Dark Angels who had returned with Atlas to rest very envious; they also wanted to stand in the sunlight to receive the cheers of the people and be awarded medals by the Primarch.

Unfortunately, the First Legion's mission did not allow them to do so; there always had to be someone to guard the Empire in the shadows and watch over those dark secrets.

Since the homeworld of Randan was occupied by the Imperial fleet, the Dark Angels split into two groups. The Lion King led a large force, along with the Space Wolves, to continue hunting down the remaining aliens.

Those who had been scattered were led by Luther to the Tranquil Substellar Sector to repair their ships and replenish supplies.

Thinking of this, Astra couldn't help but look at Luther beside him, his father's mother, brother, and the only woman among the Dark Angels who had survived the Space Marine modifications.

It's not that Astland has any particular prejudice against Luther; Luther proved herself with her superb command skills, and even the uncrowned prince Zabril praised her highly.

The only thing Astram disliked was actually the planet Caliban, whose savage habits inevitably seeped into the First Legion he had built, as well as the Lion King's unbridled indulgence of Luther.

This has created a lot of awkward situations, especially for new recruits who have just joined the Legion. They simply cannot distinguish the exact relationship between the Primarch and Luthor, and they themselves cannot even tell the difference, just like now.

Looking at Luther, who was staring at him with longing, Astra felt a deep longing for the good old days when he and the Lion King were slaying aliens, at least he didn't have to endure this kind of look.

"Madam, Dark Angels should not show their faces in public. Even if the War Commander doesn't mind, this is an honor that belongs exclusively to Atlas. We are just guests."

"But we are the main force. We held off Ran Dan's army for a month. We deserve the glory!"

Astlan had nothing to say. He longed to stand in the spotlight and enjoy the cheers of the crowd, but since his father's return, the Legion had built a more complex and numerous organizational structure.

There were fraternal societies mainly composed of Terrans, as well as religious orders where members of knightly orders came together; all sorts of small groups emerged one after another.

Urian even formed a Holy Fire Meow Meow Cult with Cypher, which was well received by the Legion. The Primarch even used it to establish a core organization called the Inner Ring.

It sounds good, but Astram doesn't like these secret organizations, which make the Legion extremely complicated.

There was no glory, no cheers, only various secret missions that could not be made public, just like the Battle of Randan.

“Madam, loyalty is the best reward.” After uttering this of his usual motivational motto, Astland said nothing more.

However, just as the group of dark angels remained silent, Brian came to them and brought them unexpected news.

"Brothers, what are you hiding here for? I searched for ages before I finally found you. Here, this is the medal from the First Legion that Father asked me to give you before he passed away."

The remaining spoils will be distributed after the tallying is done, but let's make it clear in advance that any spoils damaged will be discounted; we're a small business."

A whole truckload of medals was brought to Astram, along with certificates of honor that listed the information of the soldier for each medal.

Looking at these small iron pieces cast from ceramic steel, Astram's mindset underwent a slight change. He had only one thought in his mind: the War Master cares about me! Meanwhile, Mordred, unaware of her rapidly increasing favorability rating, was going crazy, staring at another mad scientist with wide eyes.

"Hahaha, Old Huang, you're a genius! Your IQ is at least three or four stories high, no, we're both geniuses!"

Beneath the Terra Palace, in the same secret research facility, Mordred looked at the Eleventh Machine, who was breathing steadily, with great excitement. It was a good thing that Angron didn't choose the second machine back then, otherwise it would have exploded long ago if it had been put in.

The golden-haired giant, who was being praised so highly, was no longer the extremely socially awkward person he usually was; his smile was harder to suppress than a bomb gun.

Since achieving decisive results on Angron, the Emperor has become increasingly abstract, and the art style has gradually become more greenish. Although Sisyphus is half-dead, who says that Primarchs have to fight on the front lines? As long as they can mass produce troops, that's enough.

Following this line of thought, the two decided to go all out and kill Sisyphus on the spot. They then took the Angron fragment and the Sisyphus fragment and, imitating Mordred, created another small skewer.

The most important aspect of the Primarch is its subspace nature. As long as this thing hasn't completely disappeared, even if only a little bit remains, it can slowly recover.

A small bottle of iced tea is still iced tea. As long as it tastes right, it doesn't matter whether it's a two-liter or a 500-ml bottle.

After all, Sisyphus didn't even emerge from the sheep's placenta and had no self-awareness, so it wouldn't be considered murder.

Looking at the mini Primarch sealed in the sheep placenta, Mordred, who was feasting with the Emperor, couldn't help but wonder if Primarch 11 would come after him after he woke up and found that his testicles had been removed.

This raises a new question: what is the relationship between Sisyphus and Anglon? They are nominally brothers, but in reality, Sisyphus is more like Anglon's test-tube baby.

It's no wonder Mordred and the Emperor are so similar; after he shared his thoughts with the Emperor, the Emperor also fell into deep thought.
“Our experiment is not perfect. Although it destroyed most of Dahl’s soul, Number Eleven was also affected. That is to say, he contains some of my, Dahl’s, and Angron’s traits.”

"..."

The last time I heard this was before. It's one thing for Dahl and Erda to be crazy, but the Emperor's traits are probably not good either. As for the fusion of Sisyphus and the female version of Angron, Mordred can't imagine what would happen.

Just as every Space Marine inherits the Primarch's traits, Atlas inherited Mordred's vitality and resistance, the Ultramarines inherited Guilliman's big buttocks and easy-to-give-up physique, and even the Thousand Sons are all psionic muscle boys who flaunt protein powder every day.

Speaking of the Thousand Sons, Mordred was reminded of their recruitment posters, in which Magnus appeared majestic and powerful, relying on his strong muscles to transform into a humanoid Gundam and wrestle with an Emperor-class Titan in a terrifying scene.

"What was the original role of the Eleventh Legion? Logically, each legion should have its own function, but I can't find anything that corresponds to the Eleventh Legion. You idiot, have you forgotten?"

The Emperor was pleased that Mordred had learned to think, but he didn't like the tone of his voice, so he raised his forty-five-yard hand and slapped him across the face.

"You'll find out soon enough. Come with me!"

(End of this chapter)