Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 220 Roman Wolves Accompany Me
Time passed quietly, and the empire flourished.

In front of the palace gates, a woman dressed in a black military uniform with the Imperial Eagles emblazoned on her right arm was passionately giving a lecture on gratitude to the Imperial citizens who were on their way to worship in Holy Terra.

From the first time we looked up at the stars, the seed of curiosity was planted in the heart of every human being. No matter how many years have passed, Terra will always be humanity's only home.

The empire's territory is vast, and countless humans are brought under its rule every moment. Holy Terra has become a sacred place in the hearts of these people, who are willing to spend all their wealth just to obtain a ticket to visit it.

Vladimir Puni was one such pilgrim from the icy world of Valhalla.

"During these five years, the Imperial Warmaster, who has long resided in Terra, devoted himself wholeheartedly, using his extraordinary wisdom to lead the Imperial soldiers through all obstacles and make the Great Expedition progress rapidly."

According to rumors, after His Highness Horus became the War Master, everyone believed that he would be at odds with that person, and that internal strife might break out!

But the truth is quite the opposite. The two warlords were not at odds; on the contrary, they began to work together, and the chocolate peanut sandwiches in your hands are a symbol of this friendship.

"Oh? The lord you're talking about, could it be the one known as the Bloodthirsty Butcher, the Lord of the Dark Moon, who invented the 11-draw kill technique and exposed half of the officials in the Solar Star Region in just five years...?"

“Guilliman! You’d better be referring to His Highness Guilliman.”

The tour guide's voice drowned out the reckless tourist. She was afraid that if this bastard continued talking, she might be shot eight times and die that night.

Perhaps realizing he had spoken recklessly, or perhaps recalling some terrifying legend, Puni acted decisively and quickly pulled out the Atlas Q-version figurine he had previously bought at Star Harbor to show his loyalty.

"The Warmaster is always healthy!"

Although Mordred is no longer a Warmaster, his legend still resonates throughout Holy Terra. Even Koz's actions have been attributed to him, causing Terran officials to tremble at the sight of the Atlas symbol. Clearly, he has been thoroughly trained.

After this little incident, the tour guide dared not say anything more and obediently led everyone on the tour. The Calidus assassin, who had come from the crowd after hearing the news, also hid himself again.

Horus and Mordred were clearly 3 years ago, so who were the Warmasters who appeared in the last five years?

The answer is Horus, or more precisely, Horus the Younger—Asimander!
Because he looked almost exactly like his Primarch, after the Emperor summoned the Council of the Shadowmoon Wolves and the Four Heavenly Kings of Atlas, and told them that their father was on a secret mission.

Asimand, this unfortunate fellow, was packaged as a stand-in for Horus, and had to wear height-increasing insoles every day to cosplay as Horus.

All the decisions of the two legions rested on the shoulders of these nine people.

Atlas is alright, after all, Mordred is incredibly lazy and usually leaves the work to Goff, and the Burning Legion also has the loyal Varian.

But Shadowmoon Wolf is in a worse situation. Horus's workload is no less than Guilliman's, and with his promotion to Warmaster, he has to communicate with Horus about everything, big and small.

The four-person council, who had never experienced such a heavy workload, were immediately tied up. Even Abaddon was forced to work behind his desk, having to review at least a ton of documents every day. This was after the Holy Terra had fully deployed the Divine Seal Network.

Space Marines are forbidden from interfering in politics; this is an ancestral rule established by the Emperor. But what does the yellow-skinned man know about politics? If it weren't for Makado, the weightlifting champion who shoulders the weight of four star systems, the Empire would have collapsed long ago.

After realizing he could finally have a vacation, Makado, adhering to the principle of using them to the extreme, began to secretly increase the workload on the nine little ones, treating them like servants.

While the Emperor was away on a grand expedition, Macado secretly acquired nearly 200 tons of chocolate peanut butter and frantically replenished Horus's resources.

Keep in mind that Makado is an α+ level psionicist. Apart from his lack of physical abilities, he could easily choke the Primarch and perform a windmill stunt, wielding a cane with impressive skill and even smash Mordred's head in.

The Abomination's defenses can trap a Great Demon, but they absolutely cannot trap a cunning and unparalleled powerhouse like Makado.

This guy even went so far as to abandon all shame in order to slack off, sneaking into the Abomination and stealing Horus and Mordred to his government office as hostages.

The only one suffering is Horus, who was force-fed 200 tons of peanut butter. It's estimated that even his farts will smell like peanuts from now on.

"It's no use. The eight of us can't beat that old Deng at all. Haven't you noticed that we're even sleeping less these days?"

Five whole years, and I haven't even slain a single alien. I can't take it anymore; I feel like countless ants are crawling all over me. If this keeps up, I'll become an ambitious extreme warrior. By the way, where did Tom go? He deserted!

The yellow-skinned rats, which had become an infestation, were flung away. Brother Abadan, with his pointed head, slumped in his chair, mechanically picking up his food bowl and shoveling food into his mouth. His eyes were lifeless, and even his spiky braid drooped down.

"Shut up, where have you gotten to? At least half of the work was done by Seganus and me."

Furthermore, I will not allow you to insult my former employer. I am the honorary second company commander appointed by His Highness Guilliman.

As for Tom, who knows where that bastard went?

Goff's voice was also full of exhaustion. They were already tired enough from coordinating the legion's supplies, and now they had to be forced to work as tools in Terra.

If their father hadn't been in Terra, and if Makado hadn't said that moving around carelessly would cause the ritual to break down, they would have already found a way to slip away.

"Fuck Makado!"

Seeing their cousins ​​all cursing Macado, the group exchanged glances and couldn't help but laugh. A spark of friendship was ignited between the two legions.

"Let's go, while we still have time, I'll take you to relax. Everything will be on me, Uncle Tom."

"Isn't that inappropriate? I heard that you Atlas have an Eldar clubhouse, which goes against the Imperial's principles! Wait, when did you get back?"

"Then don't worry about it, just tell me if you're coming or not?"

"Shh, I was just kidding. I must now give these evil pointy-eared bean sprouts a good scolding!" The composed and mature Seganus immediately changed his tune, instantly drawing scorn from the crowd.

Meanwhile, the 13-year round-the-world trip is finally coming to an end.

On the beach where the dream began, three figures huddled together, watching the silver-white dog that had been gradually fading and becoming dull since half a year ago.

Although Makala felt reluctant to part, the experiences of the past 13 years had helped her grow considerably. The necklace on her black dress sparkled, conveying her parting wishes:
"You two must behave well when you get back, and absolutely do not fight. Remus, you must be considerate of Romus, he is your younger brother. And don't forget about me!"

"Okay, okay, if he messes with me, I promise I won't beat him to death."

"Go back, Mother. I will take good care of Second Brother. Woof woof."

As the last ray of sunlight disappeared, the two dogs standing on the beach turned into starlight, and in a daze, Makara seemed to see an illusion.

In that illusion, a monster with four arms and hideous bone spurs roared to the sky, its body radiating five colors of light: red, blue, green, purple, and black, as if it were enduring some extreme pain.

In the monster's hands was a giant whose chest had been pierced, and on the ground was even a lump of chicken paste with its feathers still plucked!

"Chicken sauce?"

For some reason, seeing this scene overwhelmed Makara with an indescribable sadness, but before the tears could fall, a burst of destructive black flames erupted, extinguishing the illusion that should never have appeared.

Until a pale flash of lightning appeared.

"My beauty, I've been looking for you for so long! You even knew to wear a little black dress, so charming!"

"Huh? Erda, when did you get here? Romus, Remus, come and save me!"

goo—

(End of this chapter)