Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 165 The Burning Legion
After turning off the Pip-Boy, Mordred and Vashtor remained silent.

Mordred was lamenting that the sycophant was still the same sycophant, having evolved to this point, now even abandoning all shame. If this kind of sycophant were Thomas, he would be the first to dig up his grave and throw the old man's head into a star to burn.

Vashtor, on the other hand, exclaimed, "Is this the world of the big shots? It's completely different from what I imagined!"

At this point, there's no point in dwelling on this topic.

He intended to use this opportunity to get closer to Mordred and sow discord between her and the Emperor, but who would have thought that the bloodthirsty Blood God was actually like this behind the scenes.

What Vashtor didn't know was that even if his plan succeeded, it would be meaningless, since Mordred never considered the Emperor as his father.

The divide-and-conquer strategy might work on other Primarchs, but it's completely ineffective on Mordred. Doesn't he know what kind of person the Emperor is? Imperial Truth is just a tool.

"Well, if there's nothing else, I'll take this with me."

After all, even a small mosquito is still meat. Going back to purify it, exorcise it, and melt it down into materials can make a lot of money. If it weren't for the offerings, Mordred would have run away long ago. Only someone with nothing better to do would waste their precious sleep time.

"No, you can't leave! I'm here to discuss cooperation."

"And me?"

Having regained his strength, Vashtor spread his metallic wings and, as a sign of respect, shrunk his body to the same height as Mordred.

“That’s right, it’s you. I can tell at a glance that you are an ambitious person. I originally wanted to cooperate with the Cursed One, but he is obviously not a good partner.”

But you are different, because you are kind!

"Am I kind?"

This was the first time Mordred had heard a demon praise his own goodness. If the demons captured by Atlas and enslaved heard this, they would probably be furious. But Vashtor truly believed it.

In his view, Mordred was a master of feigning ignorance; even though he had ties with the Four Gods, he remained loyal to the Emperor—that was loyalty!

Vashtor had studied every policy of Atlas and had also taken note of the aid plans for each legion.

A Primarch who is willing to consider the common people and help his brothers is undoubtedly a good person. Even the worst villain hopes that his ally is a good person.

"And most importantly, it's because you're honest! You're much better than that treacherous, cursed one."

Mordred was overjoyed to hear these words. Yes, he was an upright and kind young man. He never expected that there would be such a wise man in the countryside. The one who understood him best was actually a devil.

“Vashtor, based on what you just said, I believe you must be a wise man comparable to Magnus, a demon with equally astonishing wisdom, with an IQ of at least 250.”

Vashtor laughed heartily, finding Mordred increasingly pleasing to the eye, and immediately stated his cooperation requirements:

“My goal is to become a god. If you help me become a god, we can share the divine position, and we can talk about anything.”

Mordred felt that Vashtor was out of his mind. Ascending to godhood wasn't something you could just do as you pleased. The four peddlers disagreed, which was like a toad trying to eat swan meat, jumping into a cesspool on its own.

But it's rare to encounter such a young genius comparable to Magnus. How could I not trick him a couple of times, given my reputation as a great philanthropist?

"Good, very energetic! To be honest, we Atlas are the most tolerant. All the demon lads who come to my house say they are good, and they don't even want to go back to the Warp."

"Then you'll be the eldest brother and I'll be the second eldest, leading humanity forward and conquering the galaxy together—wouldn't that be wonderful! Hurry up and present the plan."

In terms of efficiency and integrity, Vastor completely outclasses Huangpizi. His reputation score is impeccable. He immediately pulled out a stack of plans, written in Microsoft YaHei font.

After reading the contract, even Mordred was impressed by Vashtor's "beetroot" plan. He truly lived up to his reputation as a half-immortal.

"You mean you want to bring in outside forces, no, you want Atlas to enter the warp to help you train your legions and support each other in the Atlas physical world."

“That’s right, and all food and lodging will be provided. I’ll cover the resources for building the legion.” “And then, will you choose your own Soul Forge as your base?”

Vashtor nodded again, his body ablaze with the flames of the furnace. This was the finishing touch he had put on the painting; he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving it anywhere else, but he felt more at ease keeping it in his hometown.

"Yes, but it's not that I don't trust you. It's just that the Sea of ​​Souls is full of mountains and there are even powerful beings comparable to the Four Gods. It's safest to leave it with me."

My furnace is as solid as a rock; even the Four Gods would have to be wary of it. I've built it up over countless years, so you can rest assured.

That's reassuring. The last person to do this was Yuan Shao, and well, in the end, Grand Tutor Dong left a deep mark on history.

Mordred suddenly understood the Emperor's feelings when he traded with the four peddlers. As the saying goes, it's a fool not to take advantage of a good deal. If it's a gift from heaven, one should accept it; if one doesn't, one is not virtuous. And he, Mordred, was a virtuous person.

"Okay, I'll sign it. But I need to check the validity of this contract beforehand. I'm only trusting you because it's a big deal for the future, and I have to be careful."

Vashtor admired people with a strong sense of contractual obligation and immediately declared that even if the Four Gods signed a contract, it could not be broken, and any violation would come at a terrible price.

And this is the power of the true name, the true essence inherent in the birth of every being in this world.

Hearing this, Mordred, who was still a little hesitant, felt much more at ease and said that there was no need to say anything more or read anything further. He said that he would follow his brother based on this sincere heart alone.

To show his sincerity, Mordred wrote his full name in blood: "Mordred Wayne Pendragon Menethil Griffiths Proudmoore Sargeras Seven Oedipus..."

It's not that Mordred is being long-winded; it's just that his name is too long. When he was naming his dog, old Thomas gathered the best of the tribe and asked all the dogs to help him come up with a name that was truly a hundred surnames, all in order to assert his sovereignty.

Take Lamborghini for example. His full name is Lamborghini, and he is the last descendant of the Gini clan.

The dog-man Guts, who was sent to be the son of the emperor, was even more outrageous. His full name was Guts Griffiths, and it was unclear who the dogs' ancestors were, yet he came up with so many abstract surnames.

As the emerald green fel energy and thick smoke of the furnace burned, the contract was officially established, and it was even made in duplicate, demonstrating a high level of professionalism.

It seems both sides feel they've gotten a good deal from this agreement. Taking this opportunity, Mordred suggests, "Why don't we give the legion a name?"

"Brother, you see, our cause must forge ahead relentlessly. If we can't make the warp great again, then let it burn fiercely. How about we call it the Burning Legion!"

"Alright, let's call it the Burning Legion!"

"Big brother!"

"Second brother!"

After a brief exchange of brotherly respect, Mordred turned and left with bags of offerings, afraid that if he stayed any longer he would lose his composure and accidentally burst out laughing.

As the perspective shifts back to the physical world, Mordred, clutching her blanket, wriggles around on the bed, much to Morgan's annoyance. Morgan crawls out of his skin to see what his silly owner is up to this time.

After they could share memories, another maggot appeared on the bed, and the master and servant went mad.

"No, I must tell Old Man Huang to step up his efforts and squeeze the Void Dragon dry."

Mordred took out his Pip Boy and connected to the Divine Seal Network. He started tagging Old Man Huang like crazy, but strangely, the other party didn't reply. Instead, it showed that the line was busy, and even the Kobold who had been chatting in the group was gone.

With nothing to do, Mordred could only continue sleeping. However, the disappearance of the War God 888, which usually came whenever he called, made him feel a little uncomfortable until he saw the Vengeful Spirit docked at Tranquil Starport.

"Horus? What's he doing here?"

“Father, I suspect they’re up to no good!” Brian replied.

"Then let's play along with them."

(End of this chapter)