Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 234 Ascension to the Steroid Planet

According to unofficial historical records, the emperor sat on a golden throne, while Khorne sat on a bronze throne. Beneath these thrones, a terrifying behemoth was being repeatedly pulled by the two evil gods.

To protect the human empire, the Holy Emperor did not hesitate to sit on this instrument of torture, using his powerful, cold hooks to engage in a tug-of-war with the Blood God.

This pulling has lasted for a full 1 years!
If the tug-of-war fails, countless demons will emerge from the human realm beneath the throne; conversely, if the Emperor wins, countless cursed warriors will spring forth from the Khorne Realm.

Damn, putting aside who wrote this unofficial history, what kind of terrifying behemoth could withstand the pull of two big shots for 1 years? Slaanesh?
If it's true, then Tzeentch's move was truly ruthless. Not only did it harm three wise men, but it also allowed Slaanesh to die of pleasure.

This is no longer just ordinary blasphemy; we must strike hard!
Because this account was too far-fetched, the Grey Knights, having reached their limit, went through countless hardships to banish the Great Demon Treachery who compiled it, and along with him, the entire planet was subjected to an extinction order.

Unfortunately, demons cannot die. The great demon that returned to the warp did not give up, but soon after, he was captured by a group of bloodthirsty freaks who stormed into the crystal labyrinth, and his whereabouts remain unknown to this day.

Previously, Magmus had dismissed such rumors as mere whispers, but now he truly believed them; otherwise, there was no way to explain why Guilliman had a dog's head.

"You despicable bastard, you actually went to this lengths for Guilliman, so why didn't you plead for me back then? Father! Am I really that worthless to you?"

Upon hearing this, Rambo immediately cursed, "What bad luck! It's been ten thousand years, and Horus is still chasing me. Compared to him, my boss is the best. My master loves me, and I love my master!"

Rambo, now acting as a support character, barked loudly. Drawn by the fel energy resonance, a wooden biplane fixed-wing aircraft located deep within the palace, firmly sealed by a static field, began to roar.

Its unusual movement instantly attracted the Black Guard to investigate, but a golden light immediately pulled them back, along with a tattered message:
"Friends, delicious food, flames, three thousand."

This fragmented message gave the Royal Guard a headache. Looking at the Emperor on the Golden Throne, the then-Commander of the Royal Guard, Little Cat, knelt on one knee and muttered to himself:
"My lord, could you explain more clearly? You're even thinner than that oil guzzler, and you can't even drink water. I'm worried you'll have indigestion!"

As the kitten uttered these heartfelt words, the Emperor brand suddenly shone with golden light, a phenomenon that greatly excited the group of canned corn.

Before they could even step forward to pay their respects, a golden psionic energy attack came flying through the air, slapping the kitten hard across the face and sending it flying three and a half times.

"My lord, my understanding is so brilliant, why do you hit me?"
Are you really hungry? But right now, besides using psionicists as firewood, you can't even drink water without getting a draft.

"By the way, Your Majesty, while consulting ancient texts, I found a method called enema therapy. Even without a mouth, one can still absorb nutrients. Perhaps..."

Snapped!
The familiar psionic battle is about to begin, and the kitten takes to the air once again, but this time the message it sends contains three more words—"Psionic, burn!"
Although he was subjected to two brutal beatings for no reason, and even his helmet was dented, in the eyes of others, this was a divine revelation!

Now that things had come to this, everyone roughly understood the Emperor's meaning: 3000 it is, burn them quickly.

Contrary to rumors that the Emperor eats 1000 psionicists as snacks every day, his main purpose is to maintain the Star Torch and, incidentally, stabilize the broken network beneath the palace.

After all, even if they were unwilling to admit it, the Imperial Guards knew that the current emperor was a ticking time bomb, and they were too busy decompressing him to add fuel to the fire.

With firewood added at twice the allotted quota, within the Emperor's body, on the chaotic battlefield composed of countless fragments of personality, a figure dressed in a long black dress with a gold necklace hanging from her chest raised her head.

If any Thunder Warriors survive, they will recognize this as Holy Terra, but the former tech warlords have all been replaced by the Emperor.

You are the Emperor, I am the Emperor, everyone is the Emperor. The endless war for the unification of Terra has lasted for ten thousand years, and the Holy Terra beneath our feet is a super golden behemoth that is half-dead, an endless cage.

The endless killings had gradually numbed Makara, but she still remembered those 13 wonderful years of travel.

"Damn Neos, you even lie to yourself, you despicable bastard!"

Despite the criticism, Makara, being part of the same Imperial group, still transferred his power to the relic aircraft named Gatanothor.

Holy Terra has no shortage of souls: criminals, nobles, saints, aliens, and even a considerable number of demons.

The situation is chaotic and difficult to resolve. To put it bluntly, given the efficiency of human officials, the empire would have perished long ago. As for why it hasn't, that's a question for the hardworking and dedicated demons lurking within the government system.

Even in the altered heavens, the most terrifying punishment was to send demons to serve as officials in the empire. It's fair to say that the empire's crap-filled code is still running because it's entirely made up of bugs.

The demon souls that died from overwork have been imprisoned by the Holy Terra and tormented repeatedly until now. Now they finally have a chance to be freed, and they will not hesitate to die if necessary.

"Croak—Goodbye, cage!"

The fel engine roared violently, and even though it wasn't the real thing, the undead pilot named Makara still instinctively gripped the control stick.

The proud silver wolf and the short-legged dog reappeared, just as they had on that afternoon 4 years ago, still by her side. Looking at the panting dog-headed Guilliman before her, the more skilled Magnus smugly mocked:
“Guilliman, I admit you scared me, but the path of psychic power is not something a crude brute like you can handle.”

Look at yourself now. Even if you attract a demon to possess you, you'll just be a black dog-headed man.

Sigh, fine, since you've realized your mistake, I'll spare your life.

"You may escape the death penalty, but you won't escape punishment. Once I beat you to your knees, I'll capture you and take you to Wizard Star for a good lesson."

But Guilliman, the Trinity, would not back down. He immediately retorted with a foul mouth: "Bah! You whining, barking bastard, do you think you've won? You're nothing but a spineless dog."

"I wonder who it was that got their back broken by Ruth's kick. It couldn't have been you, could it? You one-eyed sunburnt Oglin!"

"you wanna die!"

Magnus hated nothing more than being told that his one-eyed sunburnt Oglin was bad, and secondly, being told that bastard Ruth was mentioned in front of him. Enraged, he spread his wings wide, unleashing his powerful psionic energy to tear Guilliman to shreds.

However, at that very moment, despite the thin air on the moon, a sharp roar echoed through the sky as an old, dilapidated wooden airplane wobbled its way from Terra toward the moon.

This indescribable scene stunned everyone. Even the demons subconsciously looked at the plane, especially the military oilmen, who let out sharp explosions.

"Hey hey hey, I'm here!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the two dogs standing on the wings shot out, and the silver-white giant wolf grew larger and larger, eventually transforming into the Shadowmoon Wolf, which was comparable in size to the Soul of Vengeance, and began to tear apart the rebels and demons.

The little dog, however, had a cunning glint in its eyes, as if assessing a high-value target on the battlefield, and finally locked onto the large, red Magnus.

"Huh? Why is he looking at me! Don't come any closer!"

Even a Primarch who had ascended to demonic status couldn't withstand the crushing force of a behemoth comparable to the Queen of Glory-class battleship. If word got out that he had been crushed to death by a dog, Magnus would never be able to show his face again.

In the blink of an eye, the dog that had locked onto its target teleported behind Magnus and bit down on his gluteus maximus.

Then it transformed into emerald green lightning and burrowed into the Demon Primarch's body, giving Magnus no time to react.

The battlefield froze instantly, as if it had never existed. The silver-white giant wolf vanished, and the wooden airplane disappeared without a trace.

Magnus was puzzled. So all that cool entrance was just to bite my butt?
However, just as Magnus was about to kill Guilliman in one fell swoop, he suddenly heard Ahriman's exclamation:
"Father, your wings!"

"wing?"

Magnus looked behind him and saw that his wings were shedding feathers rapidly. An indescribable soreness surged through his body, and perfectly sculpted muscles were rapidly emerging on his body, bursting through his sorcerer's armor.

Nine seconds later, the original sorcerer disappeared, leaving only a muscular man dressed in very little clothing.

With the powerful magical energy gone, no matter how much Magnus tried to channel his psionic energy, it was ineffective, only causing his massive muscles to bulge wildly.

With his red skin, he's practically the second Angron.

"No, Lord of Change, save me!"

Unfortunately, Magnus's wailing did not attract the Lord of Changes. Instead, a crimson dog's head emerged from the void. After staring at him for a full eight seconds and confirming that it was not Angron, a pair of large hands descended from the sky and directly abducted him.

This sudden turn of events startled everyone, and they surrounded Ahriman, who was still standing there. He cried out in alarm, "Wait for me, Father! I haven't gotten on the bus yet!"

………………

Meanwhile, 1 years ago aboard the Abomination, Mordred, watching Magnus's muscles shrink drastically and become as skinny as Mortalian, finally realized one thing:

"Little Horse, you're deflated!"

(End of this chapter)