Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 381 Hayek's Chosen One!
"I don't know!"

"I also do not understand."

"Don't look at me, I don't understand either."

Five years later, the four Primarchs have reunited on Terra. Compared to the chaos of five years ago, Holy Terra is much more normal now. At least there won't be any street brawls or demons gathering together.

As for whether there are truly no demons lurking in Holy Terra, it's hard to say!
But at least on the surface things were a bit normal, and it looked somewhat like the capital of a human empire. But just when everything was looking up, that bastard Guilliman started causing trouble again.

"When did he lose consciousness?"

“A year ago, when you had just opened up the air route and transported the first batch of supplies to Terra, Guilliman complained to me that you would laugh at him when you came back. At that time, he was still eloquent. His only flaw was that he was lazy. He would eat and then sleep, and he would eat and then sleep. He also liked to gnaw on the wall and grind his teeth in the middle of the night.”

"This wouldn't have been a problem. I know how tired Guilliman is; I was just giving him a break. So I told him to wait for you guys to come back and make do for now. But he wouldn't listen and insisted on going to his father for help."

"There's something about weasels too?"

(Someone) looked up at the sky, at the weasel on the golden throne, but perhaps the excretion therapy was indeed effective, the weasel 12345 that had been pushed out to stand on the street was not so cowardly anymore, and immediately used the move of Divine Separation:
"Don't look at me. Don't you all know my situation? I'm just taking the blame. Besides being able to speak, I can't even scratch my butt."

As you can tell from my name, I am Emperor No. 12,345, and I just turned 300 years old this year. You mustn't make things difficult for me!
It was Guilliman, Emperor No. 1313, who responded.

"What about number 1313?"

"He's dead. He was ambushed from behind by Emperor No. 76. The long blade pierced his anus, and he died instantly."

If you ask me, it's a good thing that number 1313 died. That idiot had questionable sexual orientation. A person shouldn't, or at least shouldn't, have such an affair. We're all emperors, and he couldn't even spare himself, getting involved in an office romance.

It was a standard, unmistakable Old Terran accent, and Mordred recognized every single word, but when they were put together, he couldn't understand a word. He even wanted to crawl inside the weasel's body to take a look and see what was going on inside.

But then I thought again and realized something was wrong. The weasel was just broken, not mutated. Since that so-called Emperor No. 1313 was a pervert, that meant...

"That's right, Emperor 1313's area of ​​activity was in England, and he is a fragment of a soul from the 19th century."

"Ah, that makes sense then. Different places nurture different people. 76 did a good job, they've rid the people of a scourge."

"without"

Weasel No. 12345 paused for a moment, then revealed a rather chilling little secret: Emperor No. 1313 would not disappear; after he died, he would be directly reborn and merge into the bodies of other emperors on the spot.

A broken father, an abandoned mother, scattered brothers, a declining home, surrounded by enemies on the outside and turmoil within—the more lucid he became, the more painful it was. The Lion King's vision blurred; he suddenly sensed that this empire was doomed. Pointing at Guilliman, who was ostentatiously showing off peanut butter, he complained:

“Look at him, all he does is eat and sleep. He even sneaks out of the palace in the middle of the night to look for food. He’s gone missing four times in a year. I just want to chain him up. He’s just like a big rat.”

"Guilliman, come here!"

When his name was called, Guilliman stopped eating, wriggled his fat body and crawled in front of Zhuang Sen, opened his blood-red mouth, flicked his tongue, and revealed a seemingly wild yet innocent smile.

Zhuang Sen was unlucky. If you gave him a week to conquer a world, he could conquer a galaxy in three days. But if you asked him to handle government affairs, he would be completely lost.

It was only because Guilliman had set the overall framework in advance, and the Ultramarines were numerous, plus the Imperial Guards that Zhuang Sen had recruited to assist them, that the program could run smoothly for a year or two without any problems. Otherwise, the Empire, which had just caught its breath, would have been in trouble again.

Seeing Guilliman sniffing here and there in front of them, and finally sneaking to Kiarland's feet and turning his head to sleep, Mordred always felt that the world was against him.

“I just examined Guilliman, and apart from his lack of exercise and being overweight due to overeating, he is perfectly healthy. I understand the reasons, so why doesn’t he learn from his mistakes?”

I wrote it down in black and white, telling him to run for a maximum of two hours a day. I repeatedly reminded him, and I told him more than once that he's clear-headed about important matters, but clueless about trivial ones.

Is the world just a giant sand sculpture, where everyone has a sudden flash of brilliant insight?

"So Guilliman is beyond saving, right? Why don't we just have a feast? Or we can build an amusement park and collect admission fees."

Without even thinking, Mordred kicked Sisyphus, who was saying auspicious words, away, picked up Guilliman, and walked towards the golden throne.

"He's perfectly fine; he just brought this on himself. If it were you, things wouldn't have turned out this way. Unless the Primarch agrees, even a god of evil can't do anything about it unless you force it. You don't really think we're ordinary humans, do you?"

“Brain, use your brain. What kind of good person can survive in the void of space? We don’t even need to wear helmets. No, Guilliman needs to wear a helmet. He could really suffocate himself.”

"Guilliman has made a fool of himself; he really thinks he's a rat."

As a veteran Imperial military doctor, Mordred had treated at least 800, if not 1000, difficult cases, including genetic mutations and warp curses. But he had only seen a case like Guilliman's once before, and that person was Magnus.

When Mordred thinks of Magnus, he can't help but think of Magnus Fruit, a popping fruit cultivated in Nurgle Garden that is exceptionally delicious. After seeing the truth, he was so disgusted by the taste that he made the pony suicidal.

Amidst self-denial and doubt, Magnus transformed from a one-eyed sunburnt Oglin into a one-eyed faded Oglin, which is the Primarch, a fantastical creature existing between science and the supernatural, even greener than green-skinned creatures.

Fortunately, Mordred has a solution, and it's quite simple: she just needs to infiltrate Guilliman's consciousness to awaken him, and then, like the Emperor, she can expel the excess contamination through personality excretion.

Just then, Mordred happened to find the personality excretion device he had tailored for the yellow weasel right next to him. Without hesitation, he grabbed the toilet plunger and shoved it into Guilliman's head.

As for who should initiate the process, Mordred chose the more reliable and mentally strong older brother over Sisyphus and Johnson, who were both eager to try.

After all, the battle record is verifiable. Even an ancient alien like Lady Clara couldn't do anything to Johnson. She tried to brainwash him but was instead invaded, resulting in a live opening of the box.

"what about me?"

"You?" Mordred was planning to leave Sisyphus, that unreliable guy, aside and give her a bag of sunflower seeds to eat while he went.

But seeing how eager this thing was to try it out, and fearing it might cause trouble when I wasn't around, I ultimately decided it was best to keep it with me.
"Come with me into Guilliman's consciousness space."

"Great! I've been wanting to see what Guilliman's little secret is for a long time."

"A little secret?"

Perhaps it triggered some keyword, because Zhuang Sen's eyes suddenly sharpened, and Mordred found it quite difficult to see that he wanted it but was too embarrassed to say it.

"Go, go all, okay? It's just a matter of adding another pipe. Anyway, felines act on instinct, and they can run away even if you cut off their brains."

Guilliman may not have many other skills, but he's good at thinking things through and has great patience. Whether he inserts one or three, it's all the same; I believe he can do it. But just to be safe, we need to have a few people watching outside. It's good to call the Ultra Warrior over so he can have a family member accompany him.”

"I'm here, aren't I?"

A voice rang out from the Golden Throne, but it was subconsciously ignored by everyone; Mordred didn't even have the desire to speak.

Although the exact situation inside the Emperor is unknown, according to Goff and his resurrected offspring, there are countless Emperors inside the Emperor, more fragmented than the air in a Lay's potato chip.

This bunch of monsters came together and fought an imperial war of unification that lasted a full 1 years. There were men and women, old and young, some who were not human and some who did not even know how to be human, but there were none of them who were anthropomorphic.

Even if a weasel is broken, it's still a weasel. Its reputation score is already negative. It's just that Emperor and Tzeentch fraudsters are all together. These three can't even scan a shared bike. Their words are like farts.

Ignoring her biological father who couldn't even drop gold coins, Mordred inspected and modified the personality excretion device, while Johnson and Sisyphus huddled together, discussing what little secrets they might discover from Guilliman next.

Since it was just adding an interface, Mordred completed the modification in a short time. After receiving the order, Calgar took it very seriously and came over with his three underlings.

When these four burly men arrived in front of him, even Mordred couldn't help but gasp:
"I've seen all sorts of people in my life, but the three of you are truly one in a million! Could you be the legendary chosen ones of Hayek? You are indeed handsome and talented, and even your smiles are so sunny and cheerful."

"You're here, why bring milk?"

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, I am Titus, former Second Company Commander of the Ultramarines."

"Good, very energetic! You look fearless. So who are you? You look familiar, like I've seen you somewhere before. Judging by your appearance, you must be a great basketball player. Can you fly a helicopter?"

While it's unclear why the president brought up basketball and helicopters, the sharpshooter, Kyle, stated righteously:

"Reporting to the President, my name is Kairon. I graduated from the fourth class of the Catachan program. You even awarded me a medal back then!"

"I remember now, you're that rascal who secretly raised little frogs and blew up the camp. No wonder you looked so familiar. And who is this brave warrior?"

Seeing that it was finally his turn, Sergeant Redhead Gadriel immediately revealed his signature devilish smile, which was comparable to the three bastards of the Imperial Guard without any makeup.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, my name is Gardriel, former captain of the battlecruiser USS Kamikitori, now the second company's chief petty officer and interrogation chaplain, codename Beast!"

"Beast?! As expected, there are no wrong code names, only wrong names. Here, take this can of muscle-building and bone-strengthening powder. Promise me you'll go to the gym less often in the future."

When these three burly men appeared, along with Calga, the ICU powerhouse, Mordred couldn't help but marvel at the abundance of talent among the Ultra Warriors. Guilliman's big butt was certainly good for childbearing!
Perhaps sensing Mordred's good mood, Calga approached with a fawning expression and whispered, "Your Highness, I've accomplished everything you asked me to do, except for this... Titus..."

Seeing that Titus was dressed in all black and had chains symbolizing a black shield wrapped around his arms, Mordred immediately understood. He went straight to Titus, pulled a black sword from behind his back, and handed it to him.

"Great Commander!"

"No need to say anything, I know everything about you. As the Primarch, I am also responsible for Blood Raven pulling down your pants. Here, take this black sword, how about I give you some face?"

As for Black Shield, just give up being a Black Shield and go back to Ultramarines. Roland told me that there aren't many people who can make Atlas submit to you.

"Calga, do you think someone as fearless as Titus is suitable to be a company commander?"

"Perfect, perfect! It's just the right time to dismiss that jerk Sicarius and send the Honor Guard to take over my job. It's like a double blessing!"

"Hahaha, Calga, you bastard, in order to avoid retiring in the Honor Guard, you've actually gone bad and started looking for a scapegoat. I'm really pleased with you. Why don't you send Sicarius over here? I'm just about to form a Dark Tide squad..."

"Can you train at Katachan for a few more years?"

"Of course, let me flip through the Book of Hatred, oh~ here! Don't worry, I'll not only send him to Katachon, but I'll also give him special tutoring, with a veteran of the Eternal War providing one-on-one guidance."

"You're so heartless, President!"

"You're not bad either!"

Hahaha x2
Watching his former chapter commander and grand commander put their arms around each other, and how he could be exonerated with just a word, Titus felt a sense of unreality, but the black sword in his hand was real.

"What's wrong? You look so confused. If you don't like it, you can give me the black sword. I don't mind."

"I don't mind."

Distracted by his two good brothers, Titus realized what was happening, immediately slung the black sword behind his back, and pushed away the two unclean little hands that reached out.

"It's nothing, I just suddenly realized that the Primarch is a little different from what I imagined. Maybe it's because I've been with Black Shield for too long and I'm a bit out of touch with the times."

"Oh dear, I thought it was something special. That's just how the Second Prince is. If you had participated in the Great Crusade, you would have found that the Primarch is not as saintly as the State Religion portrays him, and even His Majesty is no exception."

As an ancient soldier, although his reputation may be somewhat tarnished and he has been preserved for thousands of years, Chiron has still experienced the Great Expedition, believes in the truth of the Empire, and even set fire to the City of Perfection. He doesn't have the kind of sacred filter that people in the modern era have.

"Remember, the era of the Primarchs has returned. Instead of thinking about those other things, think about that unlucky guy, Sicarius."

Seeing Kairon's gloating expression, Titus and Gadriel, as members of the new generation, were very curious about what the Nakatachan training camp was really like.

Soon their curiosity would be dispelled, as the three Primarchs had already made their final preparations.

After drinking two cups of black tea, Guilliman, wearing a toilet plunger on his head, fell asleep immediately. With three wires still stuck in his extremely pert buttocks, he looked like a wild boar about to be plucked.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready!"

In an instant, lightning flashed, and as the venerable lion king raced rapidly from the roller, three streams of light flowed through cables into Guilliman's body.

Meanwhile, Guilliman, who was tilling the field in his mental world with a hoe, couldn't help but shudder.

"I have a bad feeling!"

(End of this chapter)