Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 16 The Lord of Dragon Fruit

The desire of life lies in reproduction, and at the core of reproduction is survival.

After more than 30,000 years of evolution, humans are fundamentally different from their ancestors who could only look up at the stars from their tiny planets. But no matter how their genes have been altered, high-calorie fried foods have always been the most eye-catching delicacies on the human table.

From the nobles of the hive capital to the inhabitants of the bottom hive, and even the Space Marines under the command of the Lord of Man, everyone loves these high-calorie, delicious, crispy little chunks of meat.

Vulcan, who landed on Nocturne, had never seen a chicken before, much less the colossal, fearless rooster of the Tranquil World, but that didn’t mean he was afraid to try.

For some reason, when he saw the blond giant with his own eyes, Vulcan felt a sense of peace he had never experienced before, as if the person in front of him was a long-lost relative.

Especially those eyes, which were filled with an indescribable meaning.

After a few steps, Vulcan found himself standing in front of the stall and took the golden chicken leg that Mordred handed him.

The crispy outer layer bursts open with a single bite, releasing a gush of tender meat juices that stimulate the barren taste buds of the big, dark-skinned man who had never tasted anything good before.

"One more, please!"

"Of course, you can eat as much as you want, as long as you can eat it. Rambo, don't even think about sneaking a bite. You're not allowed to eat anything else today. Go and bring over the rest of the chicken. Our guest looks like he has a big appetite."

Mordred felt no guilt whatsoever about cutting back on his dog's food. With Rambo's current size, if he kept eating like this, he might die of high cholesterol one day. He even wanted the dog to take care of him in his old age.

While the dog was carrying the food, Mordred opened the insulated box next to him and handed Vulcan a chilled watermelon that he had prepared earlier.

The big guy was very satisfied with the watermelon's dark green rind, and he was even more pleased with its coolness, which was different from that of the Nocturne Star. He broke it off with his big hand and swallowed it whole, skin and all, to enjoy the rare refreshing taste.

"What kind of fruit is this? I've never seen it before. And you're not from around here, are you?"

"Good eye! I brought this especially for you. If you want more, I have plenty more." Mordred casually took the ingredients, wiping the grease off his hands with Rambo's head, and asked as he fried the chicken:

"By the way, how did you figure out I wasn't a local?"

Vulcan remained silent, thinking to himself that none of us locals are as fair-skinned as you, and besides, although my eyes are a bit red, they're not blind!
The Lord of Fire Dragons, standing in the shadow of the Stormbird, pondered for a moment, then pointed to himself and then to Mordred, who was not much shorter than him.

"I have never seen a giant in this world other than myself, and you are the first. Moreover, I recognize this flying object, which is not a good experience."

However, I can sense that you mean me no harm; in fact, I feel a strange sense of warmth towards you.

Vulcan did not fully express his true feelings. Compared to his overly imposing physique, the giant possessed an extremely delicate heart. He not only felt a sense of kinship with Mordred, but also a very abrupt sense of shame.

Yes, it's shame.

Vulcan didn’t know anyone who would feel guilty towards a stranger they’d only met once, but he had seen a similar look in someone’s eyes, and that look belonged to En Bell, his adoptive father.

A conjecture emerged in Vulcan's mind and grew stronger, but even so, the kind-hearted Vulcan did not question it. Instead, he asked about the missing compatriots.

"So why did you send people to capture my people? The fact that you could appear here so quietly means that you or the forces behind you can roam freely in the stars."

Why? They can't just throw them into hell and play some kind of death game, can they?

The words had barely left his mouth when a bead of cold sweat appeared on Mordred's forehead, and he began to feel guilty. This didn't escape Vulcan's notice, and then he heard Mordred explain:

"Actually, it's a misunderstanding. How could I do such a thing? Besides, I didn't capture them. They were a group of wicked pirates. I've already rescued them, and I only learned about your existence from them."

For Mordred, fooling people is as easy as eating and drinking, since he can always find various excuses to explain himself.

In his view, everyone except his own legion was just an NPC in the game. He had already fed them, so why couldn't he fool them?

Because of her foresight, Mordred had no goodwill towards the Primarchs or the rest of the galaxy, considering them all to be a bunch of overgrown children, a bunch of stupid fools who were courting death.

Take the Necromancers, the pinnacle of physics and technology, for example. They seem incredibly powerful and awesome, but in reality, they are responsible for at least half of the fact that the warp has become a cesspool.

However, the space necromancer's final action was to feign death, thinking of going back to sleep and waiting for the warp to recover naturally before reaping the rewards.

The problem is that Vulcan is different. He is a rare breath of fresh air in this cesspool, a truly good person. Mordred is suddenly a little uncomfortable with such a despicable act as persecuting honest people.

Seeing Mordred's expression, Vulcan changed the subject and asked another question:
"Then why did you only come now? My..."

Mordred was even less able to answer now. He had delayed for so long entirely to control public opinion and, incidentally, to portray himself as a good person. Reaching Nocturne in two weeks was already the fastest possible speed.

But Vulcan took his silence as a tacit agreement, which made the black man feel depressed.

"So you've appeared here now to make amends to me, Father?"

"Huh? What compensation? I already said it wasn't me~"
Wait a minute……

What did you call me? Who's your dad? I'm warning you, don't curse me! I don't want to sit on some crappy toilet.

Now it was Vulcan's turn to be confused. The two big men stared at each other, realizing that they seemed to have misunderstood something.

Only Rambo, standing to the side, remained unconcerned, staring longingly at the delicious fried chicken bobbing up and down in the oil pan, along with his fellow Nocturne.

"Boss, I'm hungry again."

"Shut up" x2
After a brief silence, a hand reached out, and Mordred spoke first:

"Let me formally introduce myself. I am Mordred Wayne, Lord of the Second Legion Atlas, and also your second brother. I am not that scoundrel Deng Neos. Our biological father is probably on the front lines, fighting with aliens."

Bai Zhi's hand was grasped by another large black hand and shaken vigorously twice.

“Vulganvokan, as you can see, is just an ordinary blacksmith from Nocturne Star. I just don’t have any legion, nor do I have a cool title like yours, brother.”

The two giants exchanged a smile, simultaneously ignoring the earlier misunderstanding, displaying a friendly and respectful brotherly demeanor that drew cheers from the unsuspecting onlookers.

However, not everyone was excited about this. A middle-aged man dressed in the local clothing of Nocturne was hiding in a dark corner, watching this scene with a worried expression, muttering something under his breath.

"Damn it, I'm late!"

(End of this chapter)