Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 268 Let's eat to our hearts' content!
Since the implementation of Atlas's reconstruction plan, the Fenris, who used to be confined to the snowfields and watch the dire wolves bar their teeth, have finally started to enjoy a better life.

The saying goes, "To get rich, build roads first." After witnessing the industrial miracles of the 50s, Space Wolf was filled with envy.

However, due to the bad reputation of Space Wolf and its poor relationship with the Cult of Mechanics, it ultimately handed over the entire infrastructure of the Fenris surrounding world to Atlas.

As the client, Space Wolf did not make the bizarre request for a multicolored black color; it simply proposed that the starport be built large enough.

After all, bigger is better, and more is better. Don't be fooled by the savage appearance of the Space Wolves; they are actually quite shrewd.

Due to its excellent geographical location, Fenris is situated at the intersection of the Solar Region, the Hazy Region, and the Limit Region. With just a little development, it would be an excellent natural port.

Atlas couldn't possibly handle such a large order, so it had to be outsourced layer by layer to its good brother who was good at shoddy workmanship.

Furthermore, they shamelessly invited two legions: the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fist.

Since rivals are enemies, the two legions, which were among the shortest in terms of height, arrived in Fenris. Upon seeing that their opponents were old acquaintances, their fighting spirit was immediately ignited, and they were determined to find out who was better.

And so, with Atlas coordinating, Space Wolves funding, and Imperial Fist and Iron Warriors battling it out, Fenris acquired a massive starport comparable to the rings of Mars.

The only drawback is that the style is rather mixed. Half of it is Germanic, which is quite heavy and austere; the other half is Greek, with all kinds of marble columns everywhere, some even carved with flowers. In the end, it was occupied by a group of Nordic barbarians.

Abstract art style doesn't matter, as long as it works! Space Husky doesn't care about anything fancy, it's all about practicality.

Space Wolf's idea was indeed correct. Relying on the starport hub, during the Battle of Randan, a massive amount of supplies were transferred to the Misty Starfield via Fenris, which greatly boosted the economic development of the entire star system.

Although the world around Fenris was not as peaceful or as Makurag as it was during its subsequent development, it at least became self-sufficient.

Everyone criticizes Guilliman for being ambitious, but everyone also envies Altramer 500 Worlds; you could say they're incredibly jealous.

Today, a shipment was escorted from Tranquility to Fenris, led by Mikhail Ivanovich, the commander of the Sixth Company of Atlas.

As a Legion veteran older than his Primarch, Ivan may not show off, but he is a ruthless figure in the Legion.

Like the original 19 company commanders, before Mordred returned to the Legion, Ivan and his company were packed up and sent to Space Wolves.

He was even standing next to Leman Russ when he returned. Because of his outstanding appearance and an astonishing height of 3.2 meters, he was immediately chosen by Leman Russ and appointed as the company commander of the Storm Wolves, who affectionately called him Big Ivan.

If Mordred hadn't returned, he might have become the Wolf Lord if he had stayed a few more years.

The most abstract thing is that, like other company commanders, Ivan also took some local specialties with him when he ran away: a whole litter of Fenris giant wolves, who were said to be descendants of the wolf king's good brother.

Returning to his old employer now would be awkward, but luckily Ivan was shameless enough to kneel down immediately upon seeing the Wolf King, shouting, "Father, your son has come back to see you!"

Looking at the swaying Ivan before him, who was either holding back or about to give in, and whose only remaining expression was obsequiousness, the Wolf King, after learning Atlas's little secret, finally forgave his abrupt departure.

"Ivan, what's in that box?"

"Godfather, this is a gift from my father to you, and also an insurance policy."

Taking the heavy little box, if it were Dark Angel, they would definitely check it first to see if it was a bomb, but Wolf King was different. He smelled the Emperor's scent on the box, and it even smelled a bit spicy.

Anyone would be happy to receive a gift, and even the Primarch was no exception; the Wolf King immediately opened the treasure chest.

Looking at the angelica arm, which was vacuum-sealed and adorned with two cloves of garlic, Ruth immediately recognized it as Mordred's arm.

If it were anyone else, receiving a severed limb for no reason would definitely cause panic, but Lemanrus, who had fought Mordred one-on-one, knew that calling his second brother a human was a bit of an exaggeration.

What does this mean?

Ivan replied, “This dish is delicious, tender and juicy. Father, please enjoy it.”

This is His Majesty's decree. My father also told me that I would understand once I saw this.

Eating one's own flesh and blood is always the most sacrilege act, but Ruth, who had worked with Mordred for 88 years, knew that although his second brother was petty, stubborn, and would occasionally act erratically, he must have his reasons for doing so.

"Severing limbs to survive? Interesting. Second brother, how many more things are you hiding from me?"

Without any hesitation, the wolf king tore open the packaging bag and stuffed it into his mouth. First the flesh, then the blood, and even the bones were not spared, being ground into pieces and swallowed bit by bit.

To be honest, Ruth had lived a tough life and had eaten plenty of raw meat, but when he was gnawing on Mordred's arm, he only had one feeling: it was so sour that it made him shiver all over.

Luckily, he had two cloves of garlic to keep him from vomiting, otherwise he would have thrown up after just two bites.

As the arm was swallowed whole, and after enduring the extreme physical discomfort, the wolf king experienced a strange and indescribable sensation.

Emerald lightning flashed, countless brilliant ideas were generated in his mind, and the whole world before his eyes was transformed. Sparks of wisdom shone in Lemanrus's eyes.

There is no such thing as rejection reaction. Mordred was originally made up of scraps from all the Primarchs and is perfectly compatible with any Primarch.

But just as Horus, after using Mordred's flesh and blood and being corrupted by fel energy, grew a thick head of golden hair, the werewolf king also underwent some strange changes, only not in his hair, but in his physical form. This talent required no learning; with just a thought, Lemanrus, who was still in human form, transformed into a gigantic werewolf standing a full 5 meters tall.

Looking at Ivan, who used to be almost as tall as him but now only reached his chest, the wolf king instinctively swung his claws.

With just a light touch, the spontaneously generated biodegradation force field shattered the beams and pillars.

Ruth finally understood why Mordred disliked wearing power armor and preferred to act like a monster when fighting: humans have limits, but monsters do not.

Putting everything else aside, this imposing werewolf form alone possesses a pure numerical beauty. No matter what moves you use, one scratch from my claws and you're instantly killed—that's the power of numbers.

Ruth thought to herself that she was a complete idiot for believing Mordred's nonsense, despite all her hard work and sweat.

This powerful force compelled Ruth to want to roar out loud, but he suppressed it as much as possible. Wouldn't it be too embarrassing if his offspring heard it?

Maybe I should find a secluded spot later and belt out a few lines!

So the question is, why did the second brother do this? The wolf king couldn't figure it out, so he immediately gave up thinking about it and decided to eat something first.

The changes were not only manifested in the Primarch, but also, through the subspace activity of the Geneseed, Atlas's sand-sculpture virus began to spread rampantly throughout the entire Space Wolves.

Even more remarkably, some of the non-existent space wolves, who had been assigned to non-existent companies, miraculously stopped their agitation, and their eyes instantly became clear and foolish.

Such scenes are happening one after another in every legion. The vaccine called Fel Corruption has been planted, but Ivan's job is relatively easy, while Brian's is much worse.

Looking at the enormous, fat orange cat with a round head, hissing wildly at everyone, Brian, who was being held at gunpoint by the Dark Lords, was almost in tears:
"No, brothers, let me explain. Before I came here, my father told me that as long as I can overcome the wildness in my heart, I can definitely change back."

"Then why can't our father even speak?"

"How would I know? Why don't you pet his fur and maybe he'll turn back to normal."

Brian was on the verge of tears, thinking, "How the hell should I know? How come everyone else is fine, but your dad has a problem? I'd like to know too!"
Perhaps it had breathed enough, because the fat, round-headed old man became lazy and curled up into a ball in front of everyone, lying directly on the ground.

Having never witnessed such a scene before, the Dark Angels exchanged glances and, with Brian in tow, followed after them.

"By the way, have you ever thought about this? Why did the Lion King turn into a fat cat? Even if it was a mutation, it should have turned into a lion."

Brian's question went unanswered; he was now a suspect, but he soon noticed something amiss in the eyes of the Dark Angels.

It was a strange look in his eyes, a mixture of smugness and hesitation. Among them, Astram, the Legion Grand Master, was the boldest; he actually started masturbating his own Primarch.

Seeing that someone had taken the lead, the other dark angels also surrounded the lion and began to pet it. There were even a few little creatures wearing green robes that popped out and used an extra-large comb to groom the lion.

It was at this moment that it was later discovered that the big fat cat had a tuft of brown fur on its neck. It was indeed a lion, but it was so fat that it looked like a fat cat.

Perhaps it had been satisfied by being petted by its offspring, and its wildness finally subsided. As a damp, thick fog appeared, the once giant fat cat stood upright and began to slowly shrink.

Looking at his father with his unfriendly expression and the group of dark angels who hadn't yet realized what was happening, he didn't know whether to put his hand down or raise it, afraid of provoking the lion and then being dealt with.

The lion king also felt a little embarrassed. Although he couldn't speak, he could still see the outside world from the third-person perspective. But when his offspring petted him, he shamefully felt pleasure and even made shameful gurgling noises.

For Ryan, who was always strict with himself and others, this was a disgrace. But seeing the cautious yet slightly regretful look in his offspring's eyes, the Lion King finally replied:
"This will never happen again!"

The Dark Angels scattered in all directions. Perhaps because they had consumed Mordred's flesh and blood, the Sand Sculpture Virus had neutralized some of Leon's savage habits, making him wonder if he had been too harsh on his offspring before.
But he quickly put that idea out of his mind and grabbed Brian, who was stuffing the robed figurine into his backpack.

"Boy, you said your father sent me to Makula, so what is his purpose?"

Normally, Brian shouldn't say anything, but he suddenly felt an itch in his head. If he didn't tell the truth, something bad might happen.

This intuition has allowed Brian to escape from the battlefield several times. After hesitating for less than 0.3 seconds, he replied directly:
"Loyalty is the best reward, and now is the time to prove Your Highness's loyalty to His Majesty."

When their eyes met, the Lion King seemed to understand something. It must have been his father who told him to be wary of that ambitious Guilliman. Yes, that was it. Everything made sense now.

Guilliman, far away in Macragge, thought the same thing, but unlike the other Primarchs who underwent more or less changes, Guilliman remained completely unchanged.

Inside the small dark room inside Guilliman's body, where there was originally only a storm of gold and blue, a ball of emerald green light has now been added.

But none of that matters. What matters is that every Primarch has a lump of snow mixed in with it.

Meanwhile, as the curtain gradually rises, the four chess players on one side of the curtain have also prepared their chips. This is not only a gamble for the four peddlers, but also a high-stakes bet for countless subspace entities.

This time, however, the golden figure was missing from the bustling subspace.

But for the emperor, a so-called high-stakes gamble was just part of his daily routine. If he was going to play, he would play big, even if it meant risking his underwear.

Unlike before, this time he was no longer fighting alone.

"Hehe, I'm determined to win!" *5
(End of this chapter)