Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 347 The era of the Primarch yielded abundant results.

The two suns, unique to the Hades Galaxy, rose from the horizon, illuminating Baal, who had been reduced to utter ruins.

The warmth of the sun did not bring comfort, but it did soothe the tense nerves of the people of Bal.

In war, all you have to do is cut down the bugs, but post-war reconstruction requires much more consideration, and that task is naturally left to the Ultramarines.

The Ultramarine Engineers, clad in toilet seat logos, began their work, clearing and exploring the post-war ruins and recycling and reconstructing any valuable waste.

Before the widespread adoption of subspace engines, humanity could only rely on sub-light speed engines for physical colonization. During these 15,000 years of intense competition, humanity developed environmental modification technologies that could be described as fantastical.

So much so that even after enduring the Iron Man Rebellion, the Federation Civil War, the Old Night Era, and even the warlord era that lasted for 1 years, this environmental modification technology has not been lost.

Even as the Empire's technology declines across the board, this technology has been innovated and become one of the few things the Empire can still boast about. As a result, any mechanical sage with a little skill can handle it; the only difference is the time it takes.

The widespread adoption of this technology is also thanks to the three planetary modification ships that Mordred built back then. In order to compete for these three ships, the Mars headquarters and the other forging worlds fought tooth and nail, and finally agreed to jointly develop and share them equally.

Those three massive modified ships, comparable to the Glory Queen-class battleships, became a microcosm of an era.

Watching the Space Marines clearing the rubble, transforming themselves into miniature excavators with their sheer strength to search for survivors, Mordred finally sighed and said with a sour tone:
"In the past, Atlas could have completed Baal's reconstruction in just one Terra week, using 30% of the Legion's resources for saturation reconstruction, and spreading it out from Baal to the entire Hades sector."

Within ten years, the Underworld Sector can be completely transformed, becoming an imperial stronghold no less powerful than the Tranquil Empire.

"But brother, all of that is in the past."

"Yeah, it's all over."

Mordred looked at Guilliman, who grinned foolishly. His missing front tooth was so conspicuous, and coupled with his bruised and swollen face, it would be an understatement to say that he looked nothing like a ruler.

As for Zhuang Sen, he looked much more dashing. After some grooming, he transformed back into that handsome middle-aged man.

The three Primarchs sat by the city wall, the rising sun casting long shadows of them. All three had blond hair, but their appearances and conditions were quite different.

Despite being the eldest, Zhuang Sen, the Lion King, had the most relaxed mindset. After sleeping for thousands of years, he had come to a complete understanding and decided to do whatever he wanted, giving up on thinking altogether.

It was this carefree attitude that allowed the aging lion king to regain his youth, becoming more deadly and more rational than he had been ten thousand years ago.

Guilliman, the thirteenth son, may appear young, but he is in the worst mental state. Just by looking at him, one can sense that he is about to die suddenly.

Guilliman had been awake for almost ten years, but in those few short years, he felt that he had suffered more than the empire he had ruled for a thousand years, and even developed forehead wrinkles.

It was unfortunate, really. Guilliman had a good night's sleep, but it came at a price. He kicked his legs, closed his eyes, and woke up to find that he was the most powerful fighter in the Empire.

After slumbering for ten thousand years, the empire's combat power has plummeted, and I have become the main force in combat!
Moreover, what awakened him was an alien, with several dead children floating around in the sky, chanting scriptures. Only Guilliman could remain calm, otherwise he would have run away long ago.

Perhaps because the Empire was such a cesspool, Guilliman's premature aging tendency stopped instantly after he drew two SSR brothers. Even after being beaten up for three days and three nights, he couldn't stop the joy from the inside out.

After all, Guilliman was no longer alone.

As for Mordred, after experiencing a series of setbacks, he has become indifferent. He is a soldier when he stands there and a maggot when he lies down. His salty fish temperament is overwhelming. Nothing can stimulate him anymore.

But seeing his brother acting all high and mighty while he was lounging on the city wall sunbathing like a couch potato, Guilliman didn't want things to be like that. He wanted his good brother to help him with the work.

"Second brother, does Atlas have no one left?"

"Interesting. If you're so good at talking, then say more. Do you believe I'll kick you off the platform?"

Guilliman said, "Second brother, you've misunderstood. I didn't mean to provoke you. It's just that Atlas is dwindling in numbers. Why don't you come back to Terra with me? I'll provide the troops for Atlas if you do."

After saying that, Guilliman looked at Zhuang Sen and said, "Brother, don't worry. Ever since you disappeared, I've been personally keeping the position of War General for you."

Isn't this a coincidence? The three of us are all together now, which is perfect...

"You can form a second empire, right?"

"Second Brother, look at you again! What Second Empire? The Second Empire never existed!"

"Alright then, since Zhuang Sen and Dante have already formed the Second Empire, you can go play with the weasel by yourself!"

Upon hearing this, Guilliman immediately did a 180-degree turn, stating that the Second Empire was the true human race, and that he didn't know who the yellow weasel was. He added, "You say he's my father? What father? My father is King Connor. We're the real brothers."

To get his brother to eat some shit, Guilliman even turned down a weasel.

Mordred and Johnson were speechless. What could they do after all that? Of course, they chose to forgive him. After all, he was their own brother, and they couldn't just watch him suffer alone.
Then Kirimanbo opened their eyes wide.

"What? Those insects actually ignored you, saying you've forgotten your roots and are ambitious? Don't they know that only we can call you ambitious?!"

"Zhuang Sen is right. Although you, Guilliman, made a series of blunders and completed an operation that those four useless people couldn't even finish, turning the Empire into a pile of shit code."

But only we can scold you, beat you, and beat you up. How dare they do that? They must be crazy!
Especially that claim of colluding with aliens—that's complete slander. It's one thing to say that about me, since I actually did it, but how could Guilliman possibly collude with aliens?

Their eyes met, and seeing Guilliman's slightly evasive gaze, Mordred and Johnson's eyes instantly sharpened:

“Guilliman.” “Brother, I didn’t have an affair with an Xenomorph, that’s slander!”

The Lion King remained silent, staring intently at Guilliman. But Mordred, upon hearing this, was wide awake. He pulled Guilliman close, his tail wagging, and asked:

"Thirteenth Brother, you can't lie. We asked about collusion, but you said it was adultery. If you had nothing to hide, you would never do this."

I've heard that a noblewoman went through countless hardships to reach Macurag and awaken you with a kiss of true love; she's a rather wealthy young woman from the Spirit Clan.

"Well, Guilliman, I never knew someone with your thick eyebrows and big eyes like you had such a hobby. I knew something was off about you a long time ago. Back when I took you to the massage parlor, you were more enthusiastic than anyone else."

Even with his helmet covering his face, Guilliman felt incredibly embarrassed that the guards accompanying them were eavesdropping.

"No, these are all rumors. My relationship with the Death Army is just a cooperative one. You all know me. I am mortal with the Xenomorphs. If the situation were not critical, how could I cooperate with the Xenomorphs?"
As for Evelynn, she's just an ordinary Eldar governor, and she even has that ridiculously high ponytail. I hate high ponytails the most, believe me.

However, Mordred and Johnson didn't believe it. Others might not know, but how could they not? That guy, Gayman, never lied, and he was quite rigid and efficient in his words and actions.

If it weren't for its human-like appearance, people who didn't know better would think it was some Excel spreadsheet that had come to life!

In the past, he wouldn't have bothered to explain, but now that he's saying so much, he must be hiding something.

The two of them immediately set aside Guilliman and began to discuss whether it was appropriate to marry him off. In the end, they found that it was a good deal, and not only that, they could even make a profit.

Atlas was able to rise to power thanks to the resistance he inherited from Mordred, but what truly allowed Atlas to develop so wildly was the Eldar girl, Chiaran.

It was thanks to the defection of this group of Eldar pirates that Atlas was able to obtain a small piece of the network map, and this small piece of the network map increased Atlas's cargo transportation efficiency many times over.

"Wow, Guilliman, you're really something. You managed to win over the Eldar without lifting a finger. If I had known, I should have suggested you marry someone off when you were regent. Maybe the Empire would be racing on the Internet by now."

"Yes, that's true. Guilliman may not have much else, but its appearance is quite appealing. I even suspect that the weasel wouldn't object. This deal is too profitable."

Thinking of this, even Zhuang Sen couldn't help but chuckle, and then raised a rather intriguing topic:
"Mordred, do you think Primarchs can reproduce through mating?"

"Zhuang Sen, what are you saying? I'll get angry if you say another word!"

Guilliman's threat was meaningless, and Mordred immediately began a serious analysis: "No, you're just spreading rumors. I swear on my honor that Eldar and humans are reproductively isolated."

Moreover, even without reproductive isolation, I cannot imagine that scene, considering that the Eldar's mating cycle is measured in months.

But then again, our Guilliman is the Primarch, so his hardware is absolutely reliable, and his prestige is off the charts. In the warp, he'd be a demigod.

From the perspective of mystical symbolic rituals, it is not impossible.

However, compared to this probabilistic issue, I prefer genetic modification. As long as I have genetic samples from both parties, Guilliman, you can completely trust my technical capabilities.

The thought of this unprecedented blasphemous experiment got Mordred hooked; his scientific spirit was burning brightly, and he couldn't help but hum softly.

"Who wants to believe in your technical skills? What are you so proud of? I've already said I have nothing to do with Evelyn, I've had enough of you all."

"Radish, are you calling me?"

As soon as the words were spoken, everyone looked toward the elevator, where a tall figure appeared before them.

Mordred's first thought was of that dazzling blond hair, and he couldn't help but think of the weasel's inexplicable obsession with gold.

What Zhuang Sen noticed first was the other person's clothing: a blue undershirt with a U-shaped mark, worn over a traditional Macurag robe.

The atmosphere instantly became cheerful. Mordred was laughing, Johnson was laughing, and even the Space Marines inside their helmets were laughing, while Evelynn looked completely bewildered.

As for Guilliman, he was now in a situation where he couldn't clear his name even if he jumped into the galaxy. Seeing the Eldar governor approaching, he immediately unleashed a sharp, explosive roar:

"Croak—Don't come any closer!"

Everyone knows Guilliman is innocent, but that doesn't matter. What matters is how satisfying it is to see Guilliman break through defenses.

While everyone was laughing and enjoying the show, news of the battle from Baal reached Holy Terra.

Looking at the information sent by the Starry Court, especially the two Primarchs highlighted in it, all the High Lord Councilors looked grim.

For them, one Guilliman was already troublesome enough, but now there are two more Primarchs, one of whom has no record of anything, making it impossible to target him.

But they were still troublesome. In the eyes of these councilors, the Primarchs were nothing more than a bunch of larger Space Marines. To borrow the words of Abaddon, the great enemy of the Empire, the era of the Primarchs was over.

How come you're not only not finished, but have actually reaped abundant rewards?
These outdated things should be swept into the dustbin of history and turned into idols for people to worship. What's wrong with being gods? Why did you come back?

The five major star regions of this empire are all on the shoulders of our councilors. Without us, there would be no empire. But that's fine too, let's show you old fogies what we're capable of.

After all, the God Emperor is on our side; we are the extension of the God Emperor's will.

Soon, thirteen star messages were sent from Holy Terra, ordering the expeditionary force to return home.

(End of this chapter)