Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 67 The Innate Ox-Horse Sacred Body
In the past six months, Goff was surprised to find that his dark circles seemed to have faded a lot, and he even had the opportunity to go to bed instead of lying on the table like a corpse.

Not only him, but almost everyone in Atlas II felt genuinely happy, having time to kill a few people like a normal Space Marine to relieve boredom and have a drink.

However, while some people enjoy life, others must bear the burden! All the credit goes to Niuma Labo. Without her dedication, not only would Goff, the second company commander, be in a position of power, but everyone else would be relegated to a government service role.

That's right, Mordred's core plan is to use praise to motivate Perturabo and get her to volunteer for work, and it always works.

As a self-proclaimed great educator, Mordred knew that constant suppression would only break steel; only by combining strength and flexibility could true steel be forged, possessing both toughness and hardness.

Peturabo, with her left brain attacking her right brain, always felt that no one cared about her personality. As long as you praised her, she would really do it, and not only would she dare to do it, she would also work very hard. She was much better than Mordred, who only knew how to loaf around and wait to die.

If Mordred doesn't take good care of such a capable and self-disciplined person, he'll be letting down his past life as a civil engineer.

Moreover, of all the Primarchs, Perturabo was the easiest to win back. It was only someone like Weasel, whose emotional intelligence was practically negative, who could have caused this group of Chosen Ones to betray him. Even a few words of praise wouldn't have been enough.

"Pepe, take a break. Let Fricks come and do the work. You haven't slept for two days."

"No need, this little bit of work is no challenge for me at all. I am Peturabo, I am steel inside and out!"

With his Primarch-level super brain, Peturabo single-handedly handled the administrative duties of two legions, and even had the spare capacity to research Imperial technology and create some amazing little inventions.

Seeing his mother working so hard, Fricks was very pleased, feeling a wonderful happiness as he watched his daughter grow up rapidly, truly a case of the most unconventional of all.

The uncle and nephew exchanged a glance and both felt it was time to move on to the next step of their plan: to initiate desensitization therapy.

As is well known, the greatest strength of the Primarch is not his personal strength, but his ability to continuously produce gene seeds. As long as the Primarch exists, he can rise again even if all the people have died.

Based on Peturabo's recent performance, Mordred deduced that her data analysis ability was definitely among the top of the Primarchs, at least comparable to Feralas.

Therefore, in order to make the Iron Warrior even stronger, Mordred gathered all the battle records he could find and crammed them all in, emphasizing quantity over quality.

As for Perturabo's weak individual combat ability, Mordred felt she was hopeless. She was simply not suited for frontline combat and might even be killed by Forgrim in a few moves. She was always thinking about getting bigger and thicker long-range weapons.

Seeing that the silly kid was headed down the path of no return as a ranged archer, Mordred had no choice but to throw his Hunter's Armor over and, incidentally, open the Abomination's database, letting Perturabo do what he wanted.

As night fell, Peturabo finally put down his pen, stood up and stretched, his eyes showing no sign of fatigue, but full of fighting spirit.

Taking the Reca coffee from Mordred, Peturabo wasn't puzzled as to how he knew it was his favorite drink, assuming Kelly Fanny had told him, and asked:
"Second brother, it's been half a year already. When will I be able to truly take command of the legion? I feel like I'm completely familiar with how the legion operates."

"Anytime is fine, after all, this is your legion. Since you're so confident, I'll give you a mission."

"What mission?"

Mordred looked through the porthole and pointed to the mechanical ark that was building a starport above Olympia orbit, saying:

"Old Huang's big gift package for the return has arrived. At the current construction speed, Star Harbor will be completed in less than a week."

Didn't you say you wanted to build your own Glory Queen-class ship? Although the Incarati Forging World next door has been crippled, it still has complete infrastructure. If you can complete the mission, I will give you this Forging World.

But you should know that there's no such thing as a free lunch. I'll give you a year, and I want to see the Olympia-surrounding star sector completely unified. It's time for you to see some bloodshed.

"By the way, I'll show you what the empire really looks like."

Like an intern who has just joined the workforce after graduation, it would be a lie to say that Perturabo was not excited to hear that he could finally go on an expedition. He immediately accepted the task before Mordred could finish speaking.

"Will Atlas help me?"

Mordred shook his head and pointed to Goff, who was standing to the side with a resentful look on his face after his vacation. He said that they still had to transport supplies. With the return of the ambitious Gayman, most of the Empire's military force was concentrated in the Far East.

To expand the gains, this area must be consolidated immediately. Atlas is almost frantic with work; otherwise, he wouldn't have sent you here to act as a Thinker. Even the Abomination was taken by Goff to be used as a cargo ship. It's only because my old father was pitiful and left me a Luna-class cruiser as a place to stay; otherwise, I would have had to hitch a ride on the Iron Warrior's ship.

This explanation shocked Peturabo so much that her brain couldn't even keep up with the speed at which she opened her mouth:

"You are the Primarch! Who is the true commander of the Atlas Legion?"

“Goff, can’t you see that? I’m just a Primarch.”

"Then wouldn't you be a good-for-nothing?"

Upon hearing this, Peturabo immediately realized she had misspoke, but before she could explain, she saw Mordred's demeanor suddenly change, and she completely slumped into the sofa:

"That's right, my dream is to be a good-for-nothing who just loafs around and waits to die. Others might want to be, but they can't. If it weren't for wanting a more comfortable life in the future, I wouldn't even participate in the Great Expedition. Goff, don't you agree?"

The second company commander nodded in agreement, indicating that he also wanted to be a useless person and didn't care about these documents. He had had enough of them. He told his father, "If you're not going to work, hurry up and get off the boat. They're leaving soon."

“Goff, how could you do this to me? I’m your father. Remember to bring me a gift when you come back, you know what I mean.”

Ten minutes later, the two Primarchs aboard the Moon-class cruiser New Nippori watched as the Atlas fleet plunged into the Netway Gate, with only the Primarch Guard remaining behind.

Now Peturabo truly believed that Goff was the real commander of Atlas, and he didn't even notice Mordred pulling a sofa out from behind his back—an extremely illogical action.

Surprised as she was, Peturabo was more concerned with something else, something that completely overshadowed her doubts and even gave her a little excitement:

"Second brother, you said you'd give me full command, so are you under my jurisdiction?"

Mordred knew this little thing would ask that, so she naturally wouldn't expose it and immediately puckered herself up:
"Fight for you, my lady!"

"Great! Let's go!"

With a command from Peturabo, the Iron Warriors, who had been preparing for a long time, quickly assembled and finally disappeared into the warp portal at Mandeville.

........................

Meanwhile, in Olympia, Kelifini looked at the group of black-armored warriors before her with a troubled expression:

"You mean you'll be protecting me for the next period of time?"

"Of course, we are the boss's most loyal inner circle guards. You can call me Rambo."

Anyone would be bewildered to have a group of big men knocking on their door in the middle of the night, but Kelly Fanny, who managed to appease Peturabo, was clearly no ordinary person. After confirming that they were indeed sent by Mordred, she invited them into her home.

But her restless curiosity still led her to ask a question:
"Sir, why don't you take off your helmet?"

Upon hearing this, everyone stopped in their tracks and stared at the hairless woman. Rambo turned around and stared intently at her for a long while before placing his hand on his helmet.

"Boom~"

With a slightly comical, crisp sound, Rambo removed his helmet, revealing his large, furry dog ​​head.

"Holy shit, dog!"

"Madam, you're being a bit presumptuous."

　Luna-class cruiser: approximately 5 kilometers in length, with fins 0.8 kilometers long.
　　Weight: 2800 million tons (approx.) Crew: 95000 (approx.)

　　(This thing is similar to the AK47 of ships, sturdy, durable, and easy to use. It is the nemesis of Titanium. However, due to GW's magical mathematics, there are only about 600 ships in the entire Misty Starfield. It can be called a model of Euclid's mathematics.)
　　
　
(End of this chapter)