Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 168 The Shadow of Colkis
"Damn it, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want. I am the Imperial War Marshal. What's wrong with eating something? If you don't say anything and I don't say anything, who will know?"

Then let me ask you, if I hadn't been forced to do something I couldn't stand, would I be here secretly eating?

Inside the Soul of Vengeance, Abaddon, a member of the Council of Four Kings, was quite helpless. Ever since Mordred came to Shadowmoon Wolves, his father had arranged for him to serve as a guide for the former Warmaster.

To be honest, Mordred has a very good image among many Space Marines, after all, he is known for being protective of his own and was the first Primarch to propose the establishment of Space Marine seats in the Terra Council.

But the greatest distance is that which is longed for; it was only after getting close to it that Abaddon realized it was not like that at all.

This kind uncle was indeed kind, and his strength was beyond the heavens. In just one encounter, he showed all the Shadow Moon Wolves what the ultimate personal combat power was. He was like a humanoid Titan, and wherever he went, people died.

Abaddon would swear on his honor that he had personally witnessed Mordred blow up an enemy bunker with a single spit and kill countless aliens.

However, in stark contrast to his strength is his personality: greedy, lazy, cunning, and sly, he is vain, stubborn, and has unclean hands, showing absolutely no resemblance to the original genetic material.

Watching the two children, one big and one small, frolicking with fruit in the kitchen, Abaddon thought there was one more thing to add: they were just as gluttonous as the archangel. Last time, because they were hosting the Holy Blood Angel, the angel ate all the fruit supplies on the Vengeful Spirit by himself.

If you ask Abaddon why he didn't call for help, he'd have to swallow the pineapple in his mouth.

"Second Uncle, isn't what we're doing a bit inappropriate?"

“What’s wrong with it?” Mordred swallowed the whole durian, skin and all, and realized he seemed to have a particular fondness for this kind of stimulating food. He quickly grabbed two more and handed them to Brian, who was standing next to him, so that he could take them back for the boys to enjoy.

“Abaddon, do you know why I brought you here? For no other reason than because I like the look of you.”

"Wasn't it because you held a knife to my throat and forced me to come?"

"How dare you talk like that?" Brian, who was also stuffing his face, spat out the fruit peel and slapped Abaddon's spiky braid.

"If Father hadn't intervened, Shadow Moon Wolf would have lost countless men. It's just some fruit; you're eating some right now too."

"Eat quickly, we only have three minutes left. The patrol will be here soon. Today's code is 'Sibi Sibi,' which means there will be a patrol every 12 minutes."

Abaddon thought about it and agreed, but he was more curious about how Abaddon knew so much about his own security system. It was clearly something that Seganus had stolen from the Dark Angels, and even his own people sometimes didn't understand it.

Inside the pitch-black cabin, three figures carrying sacks darted back and forth, always managing to enter every blind spot of the surveillance cameras in the first instance, making Abaddon question his existence. Finally, they arrived at the Atlas base.

In just half a month, Atlas turned this barracks into a mess, completely unrecognizable as a military camp, and even a rare dog-man set up a stove there.

"Togaton, what are you doing here?"

Looking at the shocked Abaddon, Tariq Togaton, the second company commander of the Shadowmoon Wolves, smiled shyly and continued kneading the dough.
“Actually, Father has been having nightmares lately and wants a midnight snack. You know, our chef only knows how to make that damn Stargazing Pie, claiming it’s a secret recipe passed down from ancient Terra, but that stuff is inedible.” Togaton’s explanation was reasonable and well-founded. Even Atlas, who is not picky about food, wouldn’t eat that kind of culinary abomination, which is why Horus is now eating special treats every day.

They almost exhausted Rambo and his pack of big dogs, forcing them to start training apprentices.

As the exceptionally delicious durian and cherry dumplings were served, the two Shadowmoon Wolves and the Black Knight Guards devoured them with gusto. Seeing everyone enjoying their meal, Mordred, having nothing else to do, took the portion of dumplings and said she was going to go for a stroll and deliver them to Horus on the way.

When the enticing aroma of dumplings was placed before him, even Horus couldn't help but sigh, "The food at Atlas is truly nourishing. I'm almost gaining weight. I'll fire those cooks when I get back."

Due to the different legion cultures, their food cultures also vary greatly. For example, Mordred likes to dip dumplings in chili sauce, Magnus likes to dip them in sugar, and Horus likes to soak dumplings in Reka coffee.

"Brother, to be honest, I haven't been feeling well lately. I keep having nightmares, and I often dream about a scene that's hard to talk about."

"The scenes are too embarrassing to talk about, so I'll go into details." Since stepping down as war marshal, Mordred has felt incredibly relaxed, able to eat an extra 200 pounds at a meal. He just enjoys listening to random, unrelated stories.

Perhaps it's because Mordred has a fragment of herself, or perhaps it's because Mordred inherited the Emperor's powerful charisma; in any case, for Horus, who is also a Great Astartesist, Mordred is a good brother he can confide in.

"I dreamt of a figure that looked exactly like someone else, but not exactly the same. Can you guess who that person resembled?"

Mordred didn't want to say anything. He had already seen enough. Ever since he came to the Soul of Vengeance, Horus had been playing with his centaur ring every day, showing it to him as soon as he opened his eyes. Who else could it be?

"Horus, you're sick, you need treatment!"

“Even if you respect and love Old Man Huang, you can’t have dreams like this. As the saying goes, what you think about during the day, you dream about at night. You must not be the kind of son who disobeys his father. Even I can’t accept this. It’s making me want to call him.”

"No, you have to believe me." Although Horus did indeed worship the Emperor, he wasn't a pervert. He immediately stated that he was absolutely not mistaken, and the figure in his dream was definitely not the Emperor, but someone else entirely.

Mordred didn't believe it, but he was soon proven wrong.

Although he was nominally dismissed and banished to the Great Expedition by Shadowmoon Wolf, it was just a smokescreen. Mordred didn't even bring his own Abomination; instead, he only brought the Black Knight Guard and the New Nippori, doing everything he could to deceive them.

After all, if Mordred's actions were made public, let alone his collusion with Chaos, Atlas would be nailed to the pillar of shame just for conspiring with the Xenomorphs.

But fate is so ingenious. Not long after Horus recounted his dream, Shadowmoon Wolf arrived at an ancient battlefield, a place filled with ruins and shattered star rings.

Through a brief archaeological excavation, they discovered that most of the humans in these worlds died in brutal civil wars, and even the final victors chose euthanasia. Only one message, which had not been sent out 3000 years ago, survived:

"For Colkith, for the Federation of Humanity, humanity will never be enslaved. Let us all go to the underworld together, you damned demons!"

(End of this chapter)