Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 366 Living Up to the Legion's Training
What is the meaning of human existence?

It is wealth, power, delicious food, or perhaps the pursuit of glory in battle, the yearning for eternal life, the exploration of unknown changes, and the remembrance of ultimate emotions.

Every person, or rather every sentient being, has different perspectives; this is desire, and it is the very nature of all life after its birth.

Regardless of gender or age, desire is the primary driving force for the progress of life.

The pursuit of sustenance led humans to learn hunting and farming. In order to compete for more food and better mates, and to pass on their experience from generation to generation, humans developed language and writing, gradually igniting the spark of civilization.

This is a human weakness, but also a source of pride. If someone enjoys looking at erotic pictures, eating delicious food, or being unable to resist handsome men or beautiful women, there's no need to feel anxious about it; it's a fundamental logic ingrained in our genes.

The same is true of the Primarch, the ultimate being. It is these desires that create imperfections, which make the Primarch further away from God and closer to man, placing him in the God-Man stage.

As a composite of many elements, Mordred never hides her desires. She doesn't care about this or that; she eats and drinks as she pleases, sleeps when she's tired, and indulges in pleasure when she's awake. She picks up trash to conduct heretical experiments and occasionally chops down a few aliens to relieve her boredom.

Mordred firmly believes that he is a human being, not a monster or some kind of mythical god; he is just an ordinary, silly kid from the 3K era.

They get excited when they steal or find something good, feel smug when praised, feel confused when they encounter things beyond their imagination, and may also become withdrawn, give up, be stubborn, vain, lie, show off, and be conflicted.

As an unlucky guy who was hit by a meteor and landed in a cesspool, Mordred was questioning his existence when he was picked up by old Thomas. He couldn't understand why a dog could talk and grow so big.

But he quickly adapted, and upon returning to the Empire, he adapted to his legion and to this cesspool.

Although she was reluctant to admit it, Mordred had indeed been assimilated by this cesspool and had begun to go mad.

For Mordred, his world was small, he didn't have such grand ambitions, and he preferred to live a simple life in his own little corner of the world.

All he cares about are his offspring, the Legion, the Tranquil 50 world, his unlucky brothers, his stupid biological father, the cunning and treacherous Macardo, the humanoid killer Valdo, and the garrulous little cat...

Then Mordred was trapped and became part of the Empire, able to eat shit and get free refills.

This wasn't a conspiracy, but a perfectly legitimate scheme. It was those two cunning old foxes, the Emperor and Macardo, who put Mordred in shackles, and he willingly jumped into the trap.

But now the strongest of these chains has broken.

Atlas wasn't immune to death; on the contrary, if Atlas didn't possess that extraordinary vitality, he might have perished long ago, always managing to kill himself for various abstract reasons.

Finding a molten bomb while scavenging trash and using it as a pillow, having a flash of inspiration and launching a nuclear bomb with fireworks, secretly summoning a succubus for sex and draining yourself dry, accidentally triggering a trap in a necromantic tomb while searching for treasure and becoming immortal, practicing castration surgery in a demon palace, playing Russian roulette with a bomb gun with demons, and parachuting from the rails without a helmet to show off...

If we were to summarize the circumstances of Atlas's sudden death, it would probably take more than a book to write about, requiring an extremely abstract approach.

But none of that matters. Mordred can tolerate his offspring's reckless behavior and allow them to die in battle, however they may die, but he simply cannot tolerate betrayal and being betrayed and killed by his own people.

Because of trust, Mordred handed the scarf containing the soul of Arthas to the Emperor, but that bastard actually released his own offspring and even used them as a cushion.

"You dog, this is my beloved possession. I always wear it around my neck, afraid of even getting a scratch. I'd be heartbroken if a single thread came loose. And you've been using it as a seat cushion for ten thousand years."

Ugh! This smell is awful! Have you not washed your ass in a million years?

"How am I supposed to wash it? I can't even scratch my nose. And can you please stop swearing? I'm your father, after all."

"I don't care! I entrusted my offspring to you, so you should return them to me intact. You weasel, where am I? Did you just lick my offspring like a blood bag?"

This wasn't just ordinary betrayal; it was downright blatant ripping off his own child. Mordred wanted nothing more than to chop this bastard to pieces with one claw.

"I didn't, I really didn't. Even if I were the worst person I could be, I wouldn't eat your offspring like a snack. That would be far too inefficient."

No, it's utterly inhumane. They're still alive, just not long enough.

"..."

"Your mother is dead! There aren't even any left, and you call that a little bit?"

"Second brother, Father's mother is our grandmother. How can you insult her like that?"

"roll."

"Alright!" Sisyphus slunk away, returning to the corner to crouch and guard, while the dog continued to eavesdrop furtively.

Realizing that if he didn't explain himself immediately, he would most likely be executed on the spot by Mordred, and while the fate of the other emperors was uncertain, he himself would certainly not fare well, Emperors 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 couldn't help but cry out in despair:
“Listen to me, not all of Atlas died. They are all working inside me now, and I’m not lying to you. Atlas did suffer heavy casualties, but it was all voluntary. I never forced them.”

"Voluntary?"

"That's right, if you don't believe me, come and see for yourself. You guys, stop pretending to be dead and hurry up and throw one of you out." As soon as he finished speaking, a cursing ball of light was kicked out of the emperor's body. It was dark and green, with some gold on it, and it swayed next to the throne like a three-colored ice cream.

"Who the hell is disturbing my rest? Don't they know the next shift won't be for another 50 years? Even the stupid oil enthusiasts aren't as heartless as you guys, you bunch of... Father! Is that you?"

Without any hesitation, upon seeing Mordred's imposing figure, the ball of light pounced on him and began to absorb his fel energy.

As the evil energy poured in, the golden and black spots on the orb of light rapidly dissipated, eventually being swallowed up by the green and transforming into a diminutive Atlas who was only two and a half meters tall.

That connection that transcends blood ties is undeniable; Mordred recognized the semi-transparent figure before him at a glance.

"Gawain."

“Father, you’ve finally returned. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. It’s been 5000 years. I’ve been fighting for 5000 years. I’m so tired.”

"Don't be afraid, I'm here. No one will let you suffer. I'm asking you, did the weasel force you?"

"Your Majesty?" Gawain turned to look at the throne behind him. There wasn't even enough flesh on the skeleton to make a soup, yet he could see a fawning smile on the skeleton, as if it were saying, "Brother, give me a hand."

"No, it was all voluntary. We have done our best."

Perhaps sensing the tense atmosphere, especially with Guilliman standing opposite his father, already drawing his sword, Gawain cursed under his breath for his ambition and added:

“Father, the brothers are still in the Emperor’s hands, there are 3142 of them. Kiaran, the Great Sage Krag, and Zeratul are also there, along with 172 Eldar navigators, for a total of 3304 Atlas.”

"Alright, stop talking. Your soul is too weak. Go get some sleep."

Emerald light appeared and, under Mordred's command, enveloped Gawain's soul, eventually condensing into a fel crystal to protect his soul from being ignited by the spiritual energy emanating from the surrounding emperors.

With Gawain as a witness, Mordred's anger subsided considerably. Seeing that Zhuang Sen had already sheathed his sword, while Guilliman was still pointing that flaming straight sword at him, he immediately used a flashback to backstab, knocking the weakling to the ground.

"You bastard, how dare you go against me, carrying a straight sword and pretending to be an immortal, you really are ambitious."

"Second brother, Zhuang Sen is baring his teeth too. You can't just beat up Zhuang Sen and not Zhuang Sen."

Nonsense, Mordred would have beaten him up long ago if he could. Both are spatial-type powerhouses. If he were to fight Zhuang Sen one-on-one, it would be a disaster. The two of them could circle each other's backs for a year.

Besides, he was trying to break up the fight, but you bastard came up and tried to intimidate me with the idea of ​​"the big picture." If I don't beat you up, who should I beat up?

Seeing that the atmosphere was easing, Sisyphus rolled over again with great smoothness, grabbed Mordred's leg, and showed his dog-like instincts.

Mordred remembered clearly that although the Second Legion was small in number and faced 3000 Vengeance Souls head-on, Atlas was known for his resilience.

The Spartans and Euglin heavy infantry, along with the Atlas Blackguards who were comparable to the Sun's auxiliary forces, were the true main force.

After ascending to godhood, aside from those who self-destructed or committed suicide, the entire Atlas was resurrected and rebuilt. The Emperor had 55555 members, but now that number is not even a fraction of them.

“I know what you want to ask, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Because of Guilliman, that rebellious son, and Luo Jia, that rebellious daughter, the state religion has become rampant and started to develop wildly in a very short time. You are even partly responsible for this.”

"my responsibility?"

"That's right. I actually foresaw my own end long ago, but with your arrival, the empire expanded even faster during the Great Expedition, and its territory is almost a quarter larger than I predicted."

After you disappeared, Guilliman and his people governed the Empire so well that the population exploded, and a bunch of stupid demons even came into the Empire pretending to be humans. Oh, and there were also those green-skinned orcs.

They actually thought that, apart from Mao Zedong, I was the eldest brother above Mao Zedong. They couldn't even count, but their faith was more and more fervent than the next. The Imperial troops actually felt good when they crushed them to death.

Humans worship me, and aliens worship me too. I couldn't withstand it 5000 years ago—no, the Emperor couldn't withstand it back then, and I shattered into pieces.

To stop that monstrous thing from coming after me, I have no choice but to rely on your Atlas to cleanse it, letting it enter my body to burn fel energy while resisting the summons.

For the past 5000 years, we have never dared to relax for a moment. It is only through the efforts of one Atlas and one Bane after another to rekindle the Flame that we have survived to this day, fighting one war after another to unify Terra.

"In addition, before each Atlas dissipates, they ask us to pass on a message to you."

"What is it?"

"They said they had lived up to the Legion's expectations!"

(End of this chapter)