Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 247 I'm tired, let's destroy it!

With the destruction of that last church, the flame of faith was rekindled, and this time it will accompany humanity forever.

Written language has always been the cornerstone of civilization. Since the birth of human civilization, religion has always been a constant companion. This is due to the innate worship of the strong by humankind and the yearning for the unknown.

There's nothing wrong with attaching yourself to the strong, and there's nothing wrong with having faith and worshipping. But in this cesspool-like world, everything has an essence called the soul.

As a subspace that is sister to the physical world, it has various names, some call it the High Heaven, some call it the Path of Glory, and the one that best reflects its essence is the Sea of ​​Souls.

Unfortunately, humans are born with a rich variety of emotions and possess psychic potential, making them perfect gods.

Even though humans don't possess the characteristics of warp beings like the Eldar, their sheer numbers are overwhelming. They can crush any race with their sheer size, making them even more monstrous than the Orks.

With the human population's refresh rate comparable to that of a bloodthirsty audience, if left unchecked, they could create not just a god, but even the Pantheon.

At this point, some wise person might ask, since faith can create gods, then worshipping gods can be a very profitable business. Wouldn't it be great to create your own powerful backer?
That would definitely smell amazing! All those precious beings in the subspace would be grinning from ear to ear, and they'd give you a thumbs up, crown you the top Mogul, and maybe even haile you as the new generation's God of Laughter.

To expect a deity born in a septic tank to guarantee its own intellectual progress and be completely free of filth is utterly delusional. Sooner or later, it will be so distorted that even its own mother wouldn't recognize it.

After all, even the most rotten-to-the-core street vendors still have a positive aspect to them.

Take the kobolds as an example. The heartless killing in the Northwest doesn't care what you fight for or whether you are righteous.

As the saying goes, blood doesn't ask where it comes from, and skulls don't ask where they come from. If you fight to protect the weak, the kobolds will bless you. If you indulge in killing and bullying the weak, the kobolds will also bless you.

Even if you don't become a fierce warrior, if I become a general commanding thousands of troops, my superb command skills will make the kobolds laugh out loud, and then they'll frantically draw cards.

There are even bizarre situations where both sides are glowing red, highlighting the excellence of the matchmaking mechanism.

Kobolds are the lords of slaughter, and also the gods of courage and strategy; Nurgle is the lord of plague, and also the benevolent father of life's flourishing; even that cunning old fox Tzeentch finds hope amidst endless changes.

As for the newly debuted Slaanesh, he is an even bigger mishmash. Ecstasy can include any pursuit of extreme emotions, even the sweet longing for love. Pure love warriors shedding tears is an example of this.

As for why the Darkmoon Order, which worships Mordred, is unaffected, it's primarily because of its small size and the stringent requirements for joining as a formal believer; one must make outstanding contributions to Atlas to be accepted.

Secondly, Mordred, as the endpoint of faith, has high-dimensional characteristics. The faith of believers can't corrupt him, let alone turn him into a silly goose. And most importantly, even without high-risk characteristics, Mordred has no soul.

Although Mordred keeps saying that he is human, he is essentially just a piece of flesh with self-awareness. Apart from a bunch of blue-haired trash inside him, he contains less human than a dog sunbathing on the street.

The most famous ancient Terra joke says that human genes have been modified to be less than a banana, which is a complete rumor, but it might actually be true that Mordekaiser is less than a banana.

At this point, a strange bug occurred: the souls of believers, due to the warp, arrived beside Mordred and bowed wildly, but nothing worked, and in the end, they could only be chewed up like candy.

This is why the Chiaran, these pointy-eared beans, are so devoted to Mordred; after all, in this messed-up world, peace after death is far too precious.

Especially for those who were already Slaanesh's chosen little snacks, while others might just die and that would be the end of them, they would truly be captured and tortured as planetary slaves.

Seeing that the Spirit Race, now plump and healthy, were useful and wouldn't cause any major trouble, the Emperor turned a blind eye.

After all, these beans can be used as keys to open doors for Atlas. In terms of the flexibility of moral bottom line, if you say that I can make the human network open smoothly right now, but you need to serve me in bed.

The emperor didn't even hesitate. Whatever form you wanted, he would transform you into that form, and Mordred would even help you push your back from behind.

The problem is, Luo Jia is incredibly clever! Ever since Mordred's Titan training regimen, this unfortunate girl has indeed taken Mordred's words to heart, but she only took half of them to heart.

I began to firmly believe that gods are just tools, and such useful things must be worshipped.

Moreover, it's not just about worship; it's about being guided by the truth of the Empire and nurtured in a controlled manner to create a god named Paru, which belongs to humanity and is called the Imperial Spirit!

As the savior of humanity, Luo Jia believes that worshipping her own brothers is worse than worshipping wild gods. She wants to double down and build a pantheon!

The blame actually lies with the Emperor. If he hadn't been showing off in Colchis and acting like a madman, Luo Jia would have been beaten up by Mordred long ago.

As for who this divine culture medium is? Anyway, looking at the row of Primarch statues standing tall in front of the Perfect City, and the largest and most golden one of them, which comes in two styles, the Gentle She-Wolf and the Mighty Human Emperor, even the Emperor's hypertension was triggered.

"Ah~"

A sigh escaped the ears of those who heard it, and they felt as if they had fallen into an ice cellar. They sensed His Majesty's utter disappointment in them, but they could only kneel down and look at the Lord of the Ultimate Warriors standing behind the Emperor.

Unfortunately, the Emperor was truly enraged this time. Guilliman had never seen the Emperor so angry, and he didn't know why. He could only shake his head and signal the warriors not to provoke their father any further.

In reality, for an emperor with such a strong sense of humanity, the worst that Huaiyan would do is give Luojia a good beating, since Mordred's actions were even more monstrous.

Mordred may be incredibly wicked, constantly spreading rumors and causing trouble for him, and colluding with aliens and having affairs with Chaos are commonplace for him, but who can blame him when his second son is so effective?

He colluded with the aliens to create the Ash Lizardmen, and secretly conspired with Chaos to create the Burning Legion to fill the national treasury. Even though Atlas's explosive guns were still new after more than a century of use, the logistics of the expedition were handled in an orderly manner, and no one could find fault with them.

And what about Luo Jia?

The Word Bearers are as numerous as the Ultramarines, but their speed of conquering the world is the slowest of all the Legions, even slower than the recently returned Corax.

Even so, the Emperor could turn a blind eye; the resources provided by Atlas were already sufficient for the construction of the network. At worst, they could send them to do logistics. But you can't be blind!

Looking at the Great Guardian of Secrets, the Great Impure One, the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord, the Bloodthirsty Madman, cowering inside the statue, kneeling and begging for mercy before him.

The Emperor smiled with relief as he watched the legion of demons winking and feigning ignorance.
“When I came to ask questions, there was nothing more to say, and even my daughter was confused.”

"I'm tired. Destroy it! Blow up this filthy place completely, leave no one alive! Leave no one alive!"

"Your Majesty, spare me! I am truly loyal! Look, I still have the Burning Legion's officer's certificate here. I am a triple agent of the Empire, codenamed Pangolin!"

To show its loyalty, this strange demon, codenamed Pangolin and named Morpheus, who occupied the Dorn statue and looked like a stone man, even gave the Imperial Eagle salute.

He even spoke with a thick Terran accent, shouting loudly:
"Hey ha, I haven't let the legion down! Sorry brothers, I'm actually a traitor,"

"..."

With trembling hands and clenched teeth, the emperor roared:

"Hmph, hmph, hahaha, kill them all except him."

There's one more thing, Guilliman, bring that rebellious daughter Luo Jia back to me, immediately!

(End of this chapter)