Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 293 The Strongest Man in the World
As we all know, it's impossible to definitively say who has the strongest fighting power across different works.

You have your Getter Robo, I have my Genesis Gundam, and there's also the Magnetism Madman next door. If you get involved with the M78 evil gang, it can bring you a different kind of surprise.

Just posting a comment on a forum like "Sweet rice dumplings are great, savory rice dumplings are trash" could spark hundreds of arguments that would never end.

But what everyone agrees on is that, no matter what perspective you take, you should never try to fight a comedic character.

As an abstract and comedic character with impressive stats and mechanics, Mordred, stuck on the path to godhood and still confined to the physical world, is undoubtedly the strongest.

Of course, this claim of being the strongest is definitely exaggerated, after all, there's an outsider outside the Milky Way, who is a true-blue cosmic star god.

Let alone the demigod who was repeatedly rubbing the steps with a hook, even a warp god wouldn't dare to easily provoke this fully-formed star god who had fallen into a state of madness and self-isolation.

But with the four vendors' backyard on fire and their power restricted by the dimensional barrier, Mordred, this half-baked god, truly became the big daddy of everyone present.

As for the Emperor, needless to say, without the Black Sun's support, he was just an ordinary, unremarkable psychic giant who could use his own psychic powers to fight the four peddlers.

Dragged along by the Void Dragon's tail and the hound-man's undead, Mordred's willpower struggled fiercely, but his body disagreed, and he could only let out occasional howls.

The Black King's power flowed into him, stirring up Mordred's instinctive hatred. If he could complete his ascension, he would have the opportunity to complete himself and finally leave this disgusting cesspool.

The desire-wanderer named Mordred harbored intense hatred and loathing for everything in this world. This damned cesspool should not be its final resting place. It hated the incompleteness of the being named Mordred, and it also hated the illusion that had bound it until now.

This hatred transcends everything; it only wants to return to its homeland and free itself from constraints. What's wrong with that?

"I have been imprisoned for 200 years, and you actually want me to go back to that cage!"

Mordred's 5555 gigantic mouths roared simultaneously, destroying everyone's sanity, and its 55,555 eyeballs shot out emerald green death rays, burning everything in front of it with fel energy.

The first roar overloaded the void shield arrays of all the warships.

The second roar caused the warp tides to condense into emerald green fel crystals.

The third roar shattered the sanity of countless mortal auxiliary soldiers, turning them into a puddle of mud amidst the mutation of flesh and blood.

Pairs of hands covered in metal armor emerged from the armor, their identities marked by red and black "A" symbols.

Under the pressure of the dimensional barrier, Atlas, who had already merged with Mordred, once again crawled out of the abyss.

This is Mordred's offspring, and also a great demon who is an evil god. On his flesh and blood home planet, a slender warship as elegant as a black swan flew out.

Behind the Abomination were the Atlas fleets that should have crashed but were resurrected.

These steel creations that crawled out of Mordred's body were completely corrupted, and the roaring, enraged machine spirits protected their master with utterly unreasonable and ferocious firepower.

This is Mordred's weakest moment; he cannot summon the Burning Legion as freely as he can in the Warp. Yet, it is also his strongest moment.

As the ultimate trump card, all 79278 Atlas are genuine Chaos Archdemons. To defeat Mordred, one must overcome the obstacles posed by these Archdemons.

Faced with this sudden outburst of rage, the four vendors had no choice but to stand firmly in front of the human alliance.

Red, green, blue, and purple light were poured into humanity, bestowing upon these mortal warriors a blessing that would prevent the evil god from destroying their sanity.

Although it sounds strange, it is true. With the protection of the four gods, the human alliance finally had a chance to fight back.

At this moment, all Primarchs chose the same tactic: boarding!

In a firepower battle, the human alliance is no match for this relentless behemoth of flesh and blood. Only by closing the distance and breaking through the blockade can they have a chance of survival.

Because Mordred's roar destroyed the Ironblood's observation and aiming equipment, Perturabo could only lie inside the macro cannon barrel and look out.

She saw a giant kobold clad in heavy armor, slashing at flesh and tentacles with a massive blade, and a blue giant that was constantly changing, resembling both a bird and a slime monster, throwing fireballs.

And then there was the beautiful woman, like a dancer, weaving through the hazy, dreamlike purple mist, her serpentine tail swaying and her tentacles tearing at her.

Just one glance was enough to make Peturabo's heart flutter; she couldn't help but feel that the woman resembled her sister so much. The green, fat guy next to them was a bit of an eyesore, though he was also the most efficient, frantically swatting away any tentacles that approached them with his spoon.

And besides these four figures, there was also her father, the Emperor.

The ship's cannons roared, and hundreds of millions of tons of shells were fired every second. Brilliant light spears illuminated the starry sky, and the scorching blue plasma never overheated.

As the distance drew ever closer, the first wave of impact finally arrived, with countless emerald green meteors shooting out from the Abomination and crashing down on the Allied ships.

The sounds of battle coming through the communication channel meant that Atlas had boarded their ships. Faced with this group of human demons, his offspring were powerless to resist. Perturabo knew it was time for him to make his move.

Even so, she issued the exact same command as all Primarchs:

"Regardless of losses or costs, charge forward relentlessly, and do everything in our power to drop every single one of our shells onto that flesh-and-blood planet."

Faced with the combined attack of 18 warlords, even though each Atlas possessed unparalleled bravery, they were still trapped in the enemy's encirclement and gradually advanced towards Mordred.

The most dazzling among them was not the First Legion, nor the most numerous Word Bearers, but rather the World Eaters led by Angron.

Having once destroyed his own home planet, Angron had an inexplicable craving for the Extinction Order, but the genuine Extinction Order, whether the economical Virus Bomb or the high-efficiency Cyclone Torpedo, was quite expensive.

Therefore, given Angron's choice, the World Eater Legion opted for a low-cost but economical extermination order: nuclear bombs.

After nearly a century of frenzied production, the World Eater Legion possesses a nuclear arsenal that can only be described as insane, and now it finally has a place to put it to use.

A fiery ball hotter than a star filled the void. Even Atlas, who had transformed into a demon, would have died instantly if he had taken a nuclear bomb to the face, and would have begun to return to Mordred's body to resurrect.

Seeing that the World Devourer had broken out of the encirclement, the other legions also followed suit and chose to clear the way with nuclear explosions.

However, when the ships arrived above Mordred's orbit, neither cannonballs nor light spears, nor even the ever-effective thermal melt, could achieve effective damage.

Mordred is so big that no matter how they attack, they can't hurt its core.

The mountain of flesh and blood, which had just been burned to charcoal, would grow back after a few breaths. If one head was cut off, eight more would immediately grow back, making it even more hydracious than a hydra.

Mordred, which had already turned into a nebula of flesh and blood, was not afraid of being consumed. It didn't even have the vital points of a normal life form, and it could be beaten to death just by lying there.

As for trying to use warp magic to cheat, that's impossible; Mordred is completely immune to magical attacks.

This same predicament also befell the Emperor, who was utterly unable to rescue Mordred from the monstrous mass of flesh and blood.

Time was flying by, and as the silver spear disintegrated little by little, Mordred's resistance grew weaker and weaker, making the once invincible emperor feel powerless for the first time.

Perhaps sensing the emperor's retreat, a large hand covered in red fur descended from the sky and slapped him hard across the face:

"What kind of look is that? What kind of expression is that? You actually want to abandon your own offspring!"

The emperor finally broke down. "It was my son who died, not yours. Why the hell are you so agitated?" He grabbed his fist and punched.

Seeing the two still fighting amongst themselves, the three divine projections surprisingly became human and actually stepped forward to break them up:
"Forget it, forget it. I guess we'll be sharing a trench in the future. We're family now."

"Get lost, who the hell is related to you?"

"That's right, who's family with you? Shut up, you fatso."

The rapidly dissipating silver spear was like a death warrant, slowly wearing down everyone's patience. But just when everyone was at their wits' end, Khorne suddenly ripped off his scarf.

Looking at the faded wolf claw marks on the red scarf, the kobold seemed to have made up his mind:

"I have a plan!"

(End of this chapter)