Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 388 The One Who Holds a Word?
As we all know, cats can climb trees, dogs can bark, and a mouse's son can dig holes.

Although Space Marines are not cats, dogs, or mice, the saying is crude but the principle is sound: based on different Primarchs, each Legion has evolved unique characteristics.

Whether it's the Space Marines of the past or the Astartes like the Crusaders of today, even if you're called Space Marines or 50-dollar buddies, it's just a change in name. What truly determines the racial value of a Space Marine is the Gene Seed.

With the Geneseed as a link, the Space Marines will become more and more like their Primarchs, and will be highly bound together, each with the potential to become a demon army.

The uniqueness of the Space Marines comes from the 21 modifications performed by the Primitive Forged in 19 and even now. These modifications were not simply a matter of stuffing in any organ; some vital organs were developed and grown entirely from genetic seeds.

In this context, Space Marines from various Legions will develop a variety of special skills, or rather, amazing superpowers.

For example, the Raven Guard's supernatural stealth; these Sons of Corax wearing Terminator armor can climb into ventilation ducts, and a Venomblade tank can fit 50 people inside.

There were a total of 50 people! God knows how they managed to squeeze them in, but somehow they did.

Keep in mind that the average height of a Space Marine is only seven feet, and the original Space Marines are ten feet tall. They look big because they are strong, and each of them is like a double-door refrigerator. Yet, Raven Guards can squeeze into the refrigerator.

There's also White Scar's bullet time and combat continuation, which is no different from having auto-aim enabled. Even when you're half-dead, you can still unleash a desperate attack. Everyone's a little swordsman with grassland blood, and he can just run you over on a motorcycle.

Not to mention Death Guard, even with the thickest armor and the most brutal attacks, a single meltdown can blast half your body away and still keep you at bay, and you might not even be able to outlast them.

Therefore, depending on their characteristics, the combat methods, legion culture, and even the main functions of each legion are different.

Heavy infantry advances seek out Death Guards, armored onslaughts seek out Iron Hands, precise decapitation strikes seek out the Emperor's Son, and human wave tactics seek out Blood Angels.

It was these special abilities that allowed the Empire to advance rapidly during the Great Expedition, even encountering Powwa people who wielded dimensional slashes, aliens resembling evil spirits, and psionic fork soldiers that looked like Zhu Qianlong—each one more outrageous than the last.

However, among the 20 Space Marine Legions, three have rather unique roles: the Atlas, which is in charge of logistics; the Space Wolves, the military police force; and the Dark Angels, which no one wants to see.

The arrival of Atlas signifies the arrival of logistical support before a major battle; the arrival of Space Wolves indicates that their respective legions are facing problems and must be reorganized immediately; and the arrival of Dark Angels has only one outcome: to kill and silence witnesses.

A person's name is like a tree's shadow. Don't be fooled by Atlas's ability to play with the Dark Angels; it's because they're abnormal. They're like dogs, able to get along with anyone.

There's still hope if the Space Wolves come, but there's definitely no hope if the Dark Angels come, especially since they're in disguise and came with the Primarch.

Without any hesitation, upon realizing that this group of people were Dark Angels, Galileo immediately chose the Overload Power Pack Reactor, intending to use a move that would make him live forever.

As for why they possessed this self-destruct technique, it was entirely out of desperation. Rather than being captured and punished, they preferred a spectacular death.

"Backup hidden power source—activate!"

"start up!"

"Huh? Start it up!"

Although the broken neck was only a minor fatal injury, it left Galileo completely unable to control his body. He stared at Mordred with his lifeless fish eyes.

"Star God's power, kid! Do you have anything to say?"

"No need for further words, just kill me!"

Mordred was annoyed by these death-obsessed freaks, especially after realizing there was no escape. All 50 Imperial Fists chose to self-destruct. Why were you making such a tragic spectacle? I'm not a Slaanesh demon. I even washed my face before coming here.

“I’m not a good person, no, I’m not a bad person. I swear in the name of the Primarch, we didn’t come here with any intention of settling scores. Look at my big wings, I am Saint Gilles.”

Galileo was still somewhat skeptical, simply because he saw Johnson disguised as Oglin beside him, and combined with those dark angels, he knew without a doubt that this was the Lion King. "My head is about to be ripped off."

As for Mordred's disguised archangel, it did reassure Galileo a lot, but that doesn't mean that Saint Gilles won't settle scores with them, just as the Primarch did back then.

Perhaps sensing the boy's concerns, Mordred kicked Zhuang Sen, who was just joining in the fun, away and did his best to use his mental power to calm the already furious Imperial Fist.

This skill, originating from Angron and once considered rather useless by Mordred, proved surprisingly useful in this situation. Galileo, whose head had been ruffled, quickly calmed down—almost too calmly, reaching a kind of sage mode. Seeing that he had calmed down, Mordred, while maintaining a force field shield to withstand the bombardment, pulled out an elemental flask and poured it down the kid's throat.

The orange-yellow life essence flowed into his body, elevating the Space Marine's self-healing abilities to a new level. Accompanied by the cracking sounds of muscles twisting and bones regenerating, Galileo could finally feel his buttocks again.

"See, I didn't lie to you. We're really not here to settle scores. By the way, do you know how long it's been since the current Empire was established? It's been 1 years. I'm here to find your Primarch. Quickly, call Dorn out."

"But……"

"But what is it? Tell me!"

"But we are not the Fist of the Empire."

"What? You're not from the Imperial Fist, so why are you wearing Imperial Fist uniforms?"

Zhuang Sen's voice always sent chills down people's spines. The Dark Angel, disguised as the Imperial Fist, also sensed something was wrong. No wonder you bastards opened fire right away. So you have a grudge against the Imperial Fist?

"You're not the Fist of the Empire, they're not the Fist of the Empire, and I'm not the Fist of the Empire either. So who are you? Forget it, I'll see for myself."

Mordred tore a piece of flesh out with her fingernail and threw it into her mouth. After a brief analysis, she instantly came to a conclusion:
"The Word Bearers?"

"No, you're just the Word Bearers, not a rebel army. Why are you hiding?"

"Reporting to the President, the Whisperers have been removed from the list."

"What? Why don't I know? Zhuang Sen, do you know?"

Zhuang Sen shook his head, indicating that he didn't know either. Their eyes met, and the two of them instantly thought of one person.

“Guilliman?!” “That bastard is hiding something from us.”

Since it wasn't the Fist of the Empire, Mordred stopped pretending and reverted to his true form, grabbing Galileo and ordering him to stop the enemy's fire.

Galileo certainly wouldn't agree. He could at least trust the archangels before, but now you're acting like some kind of alien, changing back and forth. Who do you think you are? You say you'll order a ceasefire, and we'll cease fire?

"Fine, I admire your rebellious spirit, Rambo. Tell him who I am."

Having waited a long time, Rambo finally had his chance to shine, so he quickly got up from the ground and said arrogantly:

"Listen carefully, standing before you is the Lord of Atlas, the Second Primarch... the eternally healthy Grand Master of the Empire—His Highness Mordred!"

"Atlas? Could you be...?"

"Yes, I am."

"That lost primordial who sells tender catgirls, oh, Your Highness, you should have said so earlier! Commander, I didn't recognize you just now. I was wondering why those Roman She-Wolf magazines suddenly had names recently."

The two sides stopped fighting, but it unfolded in an unexpected way. Mordred felt something was off, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Fortunately, Huaiyan, who had been beaten to his knees and turned into a vegetable, did not die. He recovered immediately after taking a bite of orange juice. The two looked at each other, feeling a little awkward.

To break the eerie atmosphere, Mordred spoke first, asking why they had come to Inwit and were impersonating the Fist of the Empire.

"Your Highness is unaware of the fact that we have been forced into this state."

"There is no place for us in the empire anymore."

(End of this chapter)