Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 379: The past events need no further explanation.

Young soldiers crave glory, young generals crave war, and all of this will be paid for by the aliens.

“Goff, I’m still your father. Let me charge again. Give me 3000 men, and I can wipe out these damn black sprouts.”

“Father, please use your titles when you are working. I am the Legion Commander, and you are just a Primarch. You need to recognize your position.”

But I'm your father!

"Look, you're saying this again. This is a rule you set yourself. Atlas doesn't care about seniority. Even if we did, you, Father, wouldn't be as senior as me."

And I'm starting to feel like you're becoming more and more like an emperor, you're practically identical. Listen to me, here's a game console for you to play over there, remember to use your brain's processing power.

"Ok."

Inside the bridge of the Abomination, Goff, dressed in an Atlas uniform, sat firmly on his mechanical throne. Massive amounts of data flowed through physical pipelines and, with the assistance of Icarus, were submitted to the Legion Commander for approval at each level.

These 555 Space Marines were buried in the Mechanical Throne, bound together by neural links and a mental network, originating from the two Silver Knights of Atlas, who were also the core leaders of Atlas and even the Third Fleet.

Unlike the Black Knights, who specialize in special operations and are all ruthless killers, the Silver Knights are not known for their martial prowess, but rather for their political and command abilities.

If you look closely, you'll notice that these 555 Space Marines are covered in pipes, especially in Atlas, where everyone has a cool hairstyle, the two Silver Knights are almost all bald.

But being bald doesn't mean he has no hair. Erlian actually has hair, but it has been replaced with nanowires to improve data transmission efficiency. If you didn't know better, you might think he was Peturabo.

This technology is actually related to Perturabo, or rather, it's a replica of the neural pathways in Perturabo's head. It's a special technology that Iron Warriors seized from an alien, and then it was absorbed by Atlas.

If this were any other legion, Goff would probably have been slapped in the head for daring to order the Primarch, but Atlas is different.

All the past events are still vivid in my mind. Goff is to Mordred what Horus is to the weasel; all that's missing is a gold ring.

His organizational skills were so strong that he was comparable to Feralas during the Great Crusade. Pointing his finger at the Emperor and cursing him was routine for him. The Emperor didn't dare to say a word and could only turn around and give Mordred a good beating.

Goff, who managed to rise to the rank of platoon leader among Ultramarines whose average number was less than a miniature Guilliman, was no ordinary man. Mordred would be willing to serve him tea and water, let alone let him play on the sidelines.

After all, they were among the first batch of 5000 Space Marines handcrafted by the Emperor: Goff, Brian, Gawain, Tom, Levier, Joseph... These people had all fought in the Terra Unification Wars, and even worked with the Custodian Army to wipe out the Thunder Warriors, making them incredibly powerful.

However, others found it somewhat unbelievable, especially after seeing the Primarch sit quietly on the sofa playing games without making a fuss.

Shouldn't the Primarch be the commander of an army? Why is he being commanded by his own offspring?
After these 3124 Atlas were resurrected, Mordred immediately placed them in various companies as key personnel. The new recruits were definitely not impressed by these old guys who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and even thought they were outdated old guys who were not worthy of being their superiors.

We came at Father's command; we are the ones who deserve credit. Who do you old bastards think you are? How dare you order us around?

Moreover, this situation also occurred within the Gray Shield. After all, Atlas is of the same lineage, and it would be pointless for a new leader to suddenly appear out of nowhere. We only respect the Grand Commander.

But they soon discovered a fact: experience matters. The Atlases, who could fight the entire game inside the Emperor's Hook and survive for 5000 years, were stronger and more unpredictable than the last.

This is like an army of Khorne looting and burning right under Nurgle's nose. They fought for 5000 years without supplies, blessings, or any hope. The ones who survived were the strongest.

When Mordred ascended to godhood, the entire Atlas ascended to demonhood, and any one of them was a demon prince. These people were the best of the best, and their fighting spirit and patience were astonishing. They were the essence of Atlas at its peak.

If children are at odds, it is because the parents are immoral. Both children are equally precious, and it hurts to see either one hurt. Faced with the new recruit's doubts, Mordred, as a parent who never spoils the mood, certainly wouldn't let it go unchecked.

I'm not afraid you'll be unconvinced, I'm just afraid you won't take it easy. If you want to be a company commander, fine, as long as you have the ability. You can choose between verbal or physical challenges. The great Makgora, no one can refuse a one-on-one duel.

Mordred's unification of the dog-man tribes wasn't achieved through words, but through sheer hard work and battles, which led him to the throne and the position of chieftain of all the dog-man clans.

The result was obvious. When the Atlas veteran appeared, he was not only radiating fel energy, but also covered in red, green, purple, blue, gold, and black buffs, like a flash of light. This made Huron, who was watching as a bloodthirsty spectator, laugh in exasperation.

Thinking to myself, "Hey guys, are you loyalists or rebels? No wonder Atlas dared to take in someone like me. Even Abaddon doesn't have as many blessings as you guys."

The most rebellious one among them, named Severo, was not only beaten half to death, but after being exiled to Catachan, he realized that the head instructor looked familiar. Wasn't that Levier, the one I had just pointed at and made call me "Dad"? What a miserable end!

"Father, if you're going to play games, then play them properly. Even if we carry you four-on-one, we still can't carry you. Why don't you just quit the game? Look at that God of War 8888 on the other side, he's treating you like an ATM."

"Yes, yes, to be honest, although I still owe you a lot of gratitude, Your Excellency, your gaming skills are just too terrible. You're using the hero with the highest stats but dealing the lowest damage. I really can't carry you anymore. I even suspect you're a spy on the other side. If this continues, we'll have to optimize you out and replace you with Prince Sisyphus. At least he's human."

"I didn't do it on purpose. Can you blame me for losing? If you guys were stronger, we would have won. At least my ID title would be more impressive. Blame the network latency."

Upon hearing this, even Goff, who was preparing the legion, laughed in anger: "Ten thousand years have passed, and Father, you still haven't changed. We're on the Internet now, and I don't even want to expose you. Is your latency higher than the other side's?"

And look at your ID—God of War Mo!

"Tell me the truth, Father, you're not really someone's illegitimate son, are you?"

"..."

Mordred's skill level is as bad as his stats, and not only is he bad, he also likes to make up nonsensical excuses.

At first glance, Mordred seems to have nothing but virtues, but once you get to know her a little better, even the most devout believer will have their illusions shattered.

Looking at Tiberius, who just a month ago was still respectfully calling himself the Grand Commander and saying he could never repay the favor, but now calls himself a nobody, and Goff next to him exposing his past, Mordred suddenly missed Luo Jia.

"Sigh~ Let's skip this topic. But I still don't think it's my fault. It must be network latency, or the game designers didn't do a good job. I've already nerfed the angel's stats to the lowest possible level, but I still got crushed by the other side. What kind of idiot made this game?"

"You did it, so how about I give you back some of your brain? I'm scared of you acting like this."

Looking around and seeing no one speaking up for him, Mordred became even angrier, especially with his brain's processing power at 99.9% capacity, leaving only 1%. His mind suddenly started malfunctioning, and in his anger, he typed out a string of curses:
[Kobold, did you hire a power-leveling service? I'm asking you, is my good buddy Sanguis with you?]

Tiberius's eyes suddenly sharpened. During this time, he was no longer the clueless newbie he used to be. This was why, despite being a Warband Leader, he was dragged into playing the game by Mordred.

The story of Tiberius accidentally entering the royal court describes his initial thought that the Grand Master was indulging in frivolous pursuits, but he soon realized how deep the waters were.

Look at the game IDs on the other side: War God 8888, Big Eater Gourmet, Smart Head, Purple Mood, and that Toilet Superman who's always AFK.

If even one of them were human, Tiberius would rather twist his own head off than say or ask anything. The only thing he couldn't understand was why that Toilet Superman was on the other side.

Who are these demons and monsters? It's really hard to guess!

What Tiberius couldn't understand even more was why the President could hang out with them. Toilet Superman was one thing, but those four weirdos...

As the saying goes, devising strange ideas leads to heresy. Tiberius didn't even dare to think about it, especially after his extraordinary performance yesterday, where he killed the enemy. When he woke up this morning, he saw a battle axe on his bedside table, still glowing with blood.

Would they answer? Tiberius thought not, after all, it concerned the whereabouts of a Primarch, yet the other side had spoken anyway:

It wasn't me, you and the angels are my wings. I really miss you, Mordred. That wretched cursed one is no good. He will deceive you again and again, just like he did back then.

Only I, only I will treat you as my own children.

Young friend, since we parted years ago, do you still remember this old man? Come visit sometime; Mortarian misses you dearly.

[Koz misses you too.]

I miss you, I miss you so much! Darling, have you forgotten that time you nibbled at me like that? I really miss you...

(Purple Mood was banned from speaking by the administrator for 50 years)
The four peddlers are trash, Mordred looks down on them, but he despises this scoundrel the most. The dog-headed man is ready to fight if he disagrees, the filthy fat man is cunning and treacherous, and the cunning abstract fun-loving man is at least a decent opponent.

You're a hedonistic addict, the strongest lesser god, yet you dare to act crazy here. Mordred may be a mess, but she was still a god after all. Of the four great demon realms, the Sixth Ring Silver Palace is the most pathetic. The Sixth Ring has been reduced to the Fifth Ring, and even the Ring of Greed has shattered.

Mordred never had a standard for how strong the Four Vendors were, always believing they were invincible. But after ascending to godhood, he realized they weren't invincible at all; they were just a bunch of worthless bastards. The warp was everything, and we were just fish swimming in it. What were we pretending to be?

Mordred knew he couldn't hide it for long. With his return, those lost memories would definitely return. He had been too overthinking back then, which was why he had been tricked into losing everything.

Going home is out of the question. I'm going to spend my whole life fighting you guys. Seeing that there was no useful information, Mordred turned off the terminal and went to the porthole.

Looking at the steel fleet stretching to the horizon, carrying out a complete cleanup of the network, Mordred couldn't help but fall into thought:
Where did you all go?

(End of this chapter)