Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 328 The Real and Fake Lion Kings: No Comparison, No Harm

"Yeah, who exactly blew up Caliban? It couldn't have been one of their own, right? Azmin!"

"What? I didn't know! Your Highness, you know me, I am utterly loyal to you!"

Looking at the Knight Lord beside him, Azrael sighed inwardly at how beautiful the lion was, but then a deep unease washed over him.

Looking into those crescent-shaped eyes, Azrael sensed he had been exposed, but Mordred didn't make a scene. Instead, she grabbed the small can and licked it with her long tongue.
"Tsk, I've tasted the lie, but you're right, you are indeed loyal, and the First Legion has no secrets."

"Your Highness is right, the First Legion indeed has no secrets."

Azwell was now certain that the Lion knew his little secret. Shouldn't he have arranged for 500 guards to fire a barrage of bombs at him, turning him into a sieve?
Savoring the genetic code in his mouth, Mordred was certain that this unfortunate child wasn't his own, but even though he wasn't his biological son, he still had to comfort him.

"My eyes are my ruler. Don't think that just because I've been asleep for ten thousand years I don't know anything. And don't act so panicked. Look at you, you're sweating with fear. Be more alert, don't embarrass yourself!"

Back when I first rejoined the legion, those unfilial brats actually tried to blast me with light spears. If I hadn't had enough health, I probably would have been destroyed.

"Then, Father, why don't you rip their heads off?"

"How could that be? I'm not a bloodthirsty person." Mordred spread his hands, indicating that I have always been gentle and easy-going, except that I later sent them to the Catachan training camp to be instructors for ten years.

"Ah, Father is indeed refined and easy-going."

"Haha, good to know. In that case, have you done what I asked you to do?"

Speaking of this, Azrael felt a sense of déjà vu, because the task Mordred had asked him to do seemed all too familiar.

After all, although the stepmother seems pleasing, a country cannot be without a ruler for a day. Hajime wants to eat meal replacements, and Mordred still wants to regain her strength.

What he made Azrael do was to build a demonic circle for himself and then secretly capture and eat the people of the Warp.

But the problem lies with this demonic magic circle.

How should I put it? Mordred's actions are somewhat similar to those of another person: both were Imperial Warmasters, both were Primarchs, both were severely injured, and both ultimately refused to be healed by apothecaries, instead seeking sorcery instead.

The last person to do this was Horus, and he was immediately turned into a cream puff. Now he's trying to do some kind of ritual magic circle. How can Azrael not be worried?

"Father, how about we call it a day? I think you're fine as you are. We all like you the way you are now!"

Upon hearing this, Mordred immediately launched a powerful flying kick, but his small frame couldn't move it at all, and he almost tripped and fell over first.

"Damn it, you actually called out 'father' to keep your little secret? Aznyan, you bastard."

"Look at me now, I'm like a complete weakling. I probably couldn't even beat a chicken. If that loser Guilliman sees me like this, he'll laugh at me to death! You don't want to embarrass your father, do you?"

That's true. Just as Atlas couldn't control his ability to freely pick up loot, the Dark Angels also have their character flaws, namely their pride, to the point that they become obsessed with upholding honor.

There's a joke that goes something like this: If you want to call for reinforcements, the fastest way isn't to send a telegram to the Ministry of Military Affairs, but to broadcast a message in plain text saying that a fallen angel wielding two guns and carrying a greatsword has appeared on your side, calling himself Cypher.

If that's not enough, it would be best to shout "Inner Ring" on one side and "Second Empire" on the other.

As for what happens to these reinforcements after they arrive, don't worry about that. Just tell me how fast they are.
Similarly, looking at the Primarch sprawled on the sofa like a salted fish, Azrael, though wanting the status quo to continue, nodded under the influence of honor:

"Although I am reluctant to admit it, you are right. However, as your offspring, we must ensure your safety."

Therefore, we must be there to observe the ceremony; we cannot afford to lose you, sir.

As soon as she finished speaking, Mordred jumped up, grabbed Azrael, and headed deeper into the fortress. As for why Mordred knew so much about the fortress, isn't that obvious? Back then, the infrastructure of the mother planets of the various mother legions was all based on blueprints drawn by Atlas.

Although it is called a fortress, the Stone Fortress is not a small watchtower in the conventional sense. This largest fragment after the fall of Caliban is so large that it is practically a battle moon.

After spending this time together, although some funny incidents occurred, all the Dark Angels were quite satisfied with the Primarch. Even some of the 30k surviving veterans of the Eternal Wars, after a brief hesitation, pledged allegiance to him.

Especially those technocrats—although Mordred has lost all her power, the astonishing wisdom contained in her memories is no joke. After all, who can resist a female knight who can handcraft a Titan, and those incredibly cool inventions? It's like a happier catnip to a hawk—irresistible!

Soon, under Mordred's on-site guidance, an Atlas Standard 2B Demon Paru Summoning Circle was set up.

However, to ensure everything went perfectly, Mordred gave an on-the-spot demonstration, teaching the entire ritual array to the think tank youth present. Only then was he allowed to step into the ritual array, and even then, he had to be watched by everyone.

These people surrounding Mordred were not ordinary dark angels; the majority of them were fearless, and the other half were inquisitors led by Azmodari.

But none of that matters. What matters is that Mordred can finally take this step.

During this time, Mordred remained in the kitchen of the Dark Angels, absorbing life energy by slaughtering pigs, sheep, chickens, and cows, accumulating a considerable amount of fel energy.

Of course, this amount of power may not be as much as Mordred's back then, but it's usable.

As emerald lightning appeared, the space-distorting power of the fel energy began to take effect, and with the Great Rift unfolding, Mordred easily tore a small hole in the dimensional barrier.

The rest is simple: just throw out the soul stones made from soul fragments and wait for the demons to take the bait.

“Sigh, Ezekiel, do you know? Back then, I didn’t need to fish like this at all. I could just go straight to the Sea of ​​Souls and steal it. Unlike now, I don’t need to put down bait.”

"Your Highness, please be careful with your words. It's enough that you know about this; please don't put me in a difficult position!"

"Oh, so you knew all along?"

The think tank director chuckled twice, saying, "Sir, you're not even going to pretend anymore? I'm not Oglin, how could I not see through it? Besides, the Dark Angels aren't without elders, and they have no objections, so why should I?" Furthermore:

"Your Highness, the connection between the gene seeds cannot be faked. I know you wouldn't harm us, right?"

“That’s right. If I were here, I would never let you suffer any injustice. Just like ten thousand years ago, I would always be your parent who never spoils your fun.”

"So Your Highness, I don't care who you are, can we just keep acting like this?"

"What about my brother Zhuang Sen? He's my brother, my dearest friend and family!"

Mordred's voice wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet either. It was quiet because mortals couldn't hear it, but loud enough for the Space Marines around her to hear clearly.

But precisely because of this, all the Dark Angel veterans laughed. They didn't care who the Primarch was, or what lion he was. Back when we followed the Emperor to unify Holy Terra, you barbarian were still struggling to survive in the jungle wilderness.

As long as the connection of the gene seed exists, and as long as it is not a traitor, then it is our gene origin.

Ezekiel smiled, and took out a golden laurel wreath from behind him. Amidst the cheers of thousands of dark angels, he placed the laurel wreath, symbolizing the position of warlord, on the golden-haired knight before him.

"You are the Lion King!"

…………

Just as Mordred was putting on a real act, Aznable frowned as he looked at the parchment in his hand, which made him subconsciously look at the "Lion King" who was surrounded by a crowd in the distance.

"Kamas, the fallen angel, the jungle illusion, and that towering giant who calls himself the Lion King." All of this points to one conclusion: the Lion King of Kamas is the real one.

"But is the Primarch before us truly a fake?"

Azrael hesitated.

P.S.: I'm taking a day off tomorrow. My mom wants me to go back to my hometown for dinner. I haven't been home for half a year and I even had a serious illness, but I don't dare tell my family.

After all, it's Mid-Autumn Festival. Now that we've had enough to eat, it's time to go home and have a reunion dinner.

Finally, I wish all my brothers a happy Mid-Autumn Festival.

(End of this chapter)