Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 346 Guilliman, Where Am I?
The Ultramarines arrived, and the sky was clear! The Ultramarines arrived, and the Zerg swarm was defeated!
As an endless stream of Smurfs entered the arena, Dante seized the opportunity and led his men out of the hive to wipe out the remaining Tyranids above Baal.

The insects were defeated, and utterly defeated. Under the command of the great Regent Robert Guilliman, the human empire once again achieved a great victory.

This was the Empire's official assessment of the Battle of Baal, and also the first great victory of the Regent's Unyielding Expedition.

So what's the cost?

Seeing his father, stripped down to only a pair of blue extreme underwear, being whipped for three days and three nights while hanging from a flagpole, Calgar was filled with grief and rage. His hands moved with incredible speed, wielding a spatula to serve the two exhausted Primarchs a pot of fried rice:
"Your Highness, please have some food first. Stop fighting! That's my father; it breaks my heart to see him like this!"

"Feel sorry for him? You feel sorry for him, but who the hell feels sorry for us? I think you're just asking for trouble again."

Upon hearing this, the tough guy who had once charged in and out of the Zerg swarm seven times, single-handedly challenged the Zerg hive tyrant, and even tore off the owner's skull with his bare hands despite having a damaged heart, actually trembled three times with a sense of shame.

If you zoom in, you'll see nearly 1000 Ultra Warriors lying limp on the ground, all stripped of their armor and hanging up like roast geese from vines.

These people are all Glory Champions, also known as the Primitive Stretcher Team.

Don't let their current pathetic state fool you; just three days ago, they were incredibly arrogant. When they discovered that their father was caught in a dilemma between Mordred and Johnson, making things even more difficult for him, they had a moment of madness and chose to attack the two of them, shooting Mordred in the head.

Then they discovered that the heavy explosive rounds that could penetrate taurine steel couldn't even penetrate Mordred's face.

How to describe this behavior? It's just like that World Eater minion who jumped and slashed at Gayman when he was Sleeping Beauty—commendable courage.

The result was rather unfortunate. In just three seconds, the two Primarchs subdued the first 100 Glory Champions, stripped them naked, and pinned them to the ground, forcing these unfortunate souls to watch as Guilliman was whipped mercilessly by the two.

Accompanied by Guilliman's mournful cries, the Honor Guard charged forward one after another, only to be completely wiped out in a series of desperate attempts to save their grandfather, with Mordred stripping them of their armor.

As for your question about why 1000 of us couldn't beat two, Calga has something to say too. I hadn't even turned on my boxing gloves when a scruffy old man suddenly appeared behind me and punched my helmet flat. How was I supposed to fight back?

And then there's that big, blond guy in the vest and trench coat, who keeps calling me "my good nephew," but he's ruthless than a lion. One minute he's 800 meters away, the next he's unleashing a flying kick from behind.

Faced with two Primarchs that have perfect stats, perfect mechanics, and can even teleport without cooldown, how are we supposed to fight them? Fight them face to face?

Moreover, it's one thing to beat people, but to destroy their spirit. Not only did they strip us of our armor, but they also hung us up to watch our father be humiliated.

That's our father! I'd be heartbroken even if he just got a scratch, and you guys actually stood up and kicked him!
"Aaaaaah! I'll fight you to the death!"

"Snapped!"

With a slap, Calgar, whose fighting spirit had just been rekindled, instantly collapsed to the ground, his eyes becoming clear, only Guilliman's howling in his ears remained unchanged.

"What are you looking at? Go make us a dessert. If you serve us well, I'll skip whipping your father!"

"Really, really?"

"You have no joke!"

"Your Highness, please rest assured. I have been studying cooking since I was a child. I will make you a special snack from Macurag—Coconut Heart Boba. I guarantee that both of you will be satisfied."

Mordred glanced at Calgar, who was busy at work, tossed away his cigarette butt, took the whip from Johnson, and lashed Guilliman's buttocks hard.

"what--"

"Huh? You still dare to call me that, you bastard, Thirteenth Brother. You never thought this day would come, did you? I'm giving you one more chance now. Tell me honestly about all the despicable things you've done."

"Second Brother, what are you saying? I haven't done anything to wrong you. I...I...no, that's not right!"
Zhuang Sen, brother, say something! What happened back then... ahhh!"

Before Guilliman could speak, and seeing that this bastard was trying to drag him down with him, the Lion King reacted swiftly, swinging his shield and slapping Guilliman across the backside.

"Shut up, you wretched Guilliman, you ambitious bastard! I warned you not to eat so much back then, but you wouldn't listen."

I'll ask you this: weren't you the one who led the division of Atlas's legacy? Were you the one who led the expedition to Catachan to drag the Hive Research Institute to the moon? Were you the one who formed the Highlord Council?

I advise you to confess honestly, otherwise even I can't save you.

"But... ah!!!"

"You dare!"

Mordred reached out and grabbed Guilliman's blond hair. He knew that Johnson was definitely hiding something from him, but at least he had confessed everything he could, while Guilliman was still stubbornly holding on.

“Thirteenth brother.” Mordred crouched down, staring into Guilliman’s eyes. “I’ve always heard people say that you’re the smartest and most human-like of us brothers.”

Even if everyone else criticizes you for being ambitious, I still choose to believe you. But I believe you, while others don't!

"From the outside, it seems that after the great rebellion ended, you obtained what Horus couldn't get even after shedding his blood, what Old Man Huang couldn't protect even after he tried his best, and what I couldn't exchange even after I committed suicide, simply by being nine hours late."

"And with just a worthless Astartes Codex, he dismantled his brothers' legions." "Second brother, I..."

"Shh!" Mordred pinched Guilliman's lips shut, shaking them as he spoke:
“But none of that matters, because I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I also bear some responsibility for this. I won’t even say anything about you dividing Atlas’s legacy, since things are meant to be used.”

"You know me. Although I am greedy, I am not stingy. How could I hold a grudge against you just because you took what you didn't have? How could that be? As long as the money is used properly, it's fine."

"Second brother, it was me! I did it all! I'll confess everything!"

Guilliman was a little vulnerable. He could be beaten, he could be hung on a flagpole and publicly humiliated, but he couldn't stand this kind of forgiveness. So much so that when reciting the menu, he would add "the successor of Atlas" to make himself feel at ease.

"Feeling better now?"

"Alright, now that you're feeling better, let me ask you a question. I can tolerate everything, but why did you, you damned bastard, ruin my reputation while suffering from amnesia?"

"What? Second Brother, what nonsense are you talking about?"

Upon hearing this, Mordred's fists hardened. What angered him even more was that Guilliman, this idiot, didn't seem to be acting; he genuinely didn't know.

"Okay, you, the one cooking, stop cooking and give me that toilet paper you're carrying."

Calgar jogged up to the three Primarchs and, without hesitation, handed them the copy of the Astartes Codex that he had just used to wipe the pot.

After all, if you ask what toilet paper is, there are probably a thousand different answers from a thousand different people: leaves, straw paper, newspapers, notebooks, winter vacation homework, or even clods of dirt.

But if you were to ask what toilet paper a Space Marine commonly uses, it would definitely be the Book of Astartes. After all, there are so many of them that not only the Loyalists but even the Chaos faction uses this stuff.

When Guilliman saw the magnum opus he had personally compiled laid out before him, his heart sank. He may have already guessed it, but he still dared not face the fact.

Many pages were torn from Calgar's holy book, but that didn't matter; what mattered was that the cover was still intact. Mordred simply lifted the cover and asked the few lines of large text on the title page:
“Guilliman, you better explain to me what you mean by ‘Second Brother, your achievements will absolutely not be buried’?”

Guilliman: (Д)ノ

Zhuang Sen: δ(д｀;)
Calga: (д)
Mordred: (▼Benefit▼)
Mordred's voice was neither loud nor soft, but almost everyone around could hear it. They had been resentful before, thinking that the Primarch was too arrogant and domineering, but now they all understood.

If it were them, let alone hanging them up and whipping them, they wouldn't be that rational at all. Father really treats his brothers like aliens.

For the past 1 years, everyone has been wondering who this second brother is? How could he be so stupid? He's cursed by everyone, from the left to the right, from above to below, even by the chaotic. Every Space Marine has cursed him.

As a result, there were far fewer voices criticizing Guilliman. After all, it was written in black and white that his achievements would never be buried. This was irrefutable evidence!
Perhaps sensing the tense atmosphere, Calga made a quick escape, but Guilliman wasn't so lucky; he was hanging from the flagpole and couldn't run away.

"Well, well, you know what I mean, oh dear, Second Brother, you know me, I just wanted to give you a little surprise."

Mordred laughed, he was certain that people really do laugh when they're utterly speechless: "Surprise, you fucking explain this to me, what the hell do you mean by a surprise?"

"A surprise is a surprise, right? Second brother, think about it. Even if everyone forgets you, I'll make sure your name is remembered for generations to come!"

If Guilliman utters even half a lie, Mordred can immediately find four burly, scantily clad men to subject him to the ultimate humiliation, and record it in a billion copies to be scattered throughout the galaxy.

What truly blew Mordred's mind was that Guilliman, that bastard, actually believed it; he genuinely wanted to commemorate him in this way.

"I was destined for eternal fame! I... I... I've ruined my reputation for life! Guilliman, you've made me infamous for ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! A full ten thousand years!"

"Do you know why I dare not return to the Empire immediately? Now everyone in the Empire is my enemy, and it's all your doing!"

"I don't want to curse you anymore. Now I just want to ask you one last thing. Zhuang Sen told me that the people Ning Jing transferred out were all handed over to you. Where the hell are my soldiers?"

"..."

"Speak up! I've trained talent and junior officers for two whole centuries, where are they?"

"..."

"I thought they were useless, so I released them!"

"What? You, you, pfft—ah."

"Second brother, second brother, what's wrong?"

Seeing Mordred coughing up blood, Zhuang Sen quickly stepped forward to support him: "Brother, are you alright?"

"Oh no, everything is going dark."

(End of this chapter)