Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 72 A ghost knocks on the door in the dead of night, scattering the madman's secret soul. (3k)
The Randan, an alien race that can never be ignored during the Great Crusade, can even be said to be one of the few adversaries that can prompt the Empire to launch a full-scale war.

They are also one of only two terrifying enemies capable of threatening the Solar System during the Great Crusade, the other being the Orcs, the happiest race in the galaxy.

Since the fall of the Old Night, without the suppression of those two overwhelmingly powerful beings, more and more alien races have begun to rise, all wanting to seize the opportunity to conquer the galaxy.

Just like how the Milky Way is such a coveted prize, no one wants to leave, insisting on raising worms in this godforsaken place. And the biggest worm among them is undoubtedly the Empire.

Even though Mordred has been smearing the big golden guy and spreading rumors about him every day, Mordred has to admit that he admires the old man's strategic vision.

The year is 841. The empire has just unified the Solar Starfield. The worlds it initially conquered have begun to get on track, and production capacity has increased rapidly. It has completely shed its initial beggar-like state and has established its own base.

Just like Liu Bei, who established himself in Jingzhou and built a foundation for the Three Kingdoms, he was able to crush some small races and even pocket empires.

This is undoubtedly related to the Emperor seizing the opportune moment to go all in and launch a grand expedition early on, which is also his greatest strength besides his emotional intelligence.

However, the Human Empire was not the only force that seized the opportunity; the Randan Empire also saw it and began its own frenzied expansion, following the same path as the Empire.

Meanwhile, our great, invincible Titanium is still blowing bubbles in the swamp, at most a large blue-skinned seafood that has just crawled out of the sea.

When Mordred realized that the enemy might be Randan aliens, he instantly became excited, not for any other reason than that the Second Legion had been deleted from the data during the Battle of Randan.

"Second brother, why are you so agitated?"

"This is none of your business. This is a curse that Atlas must break. Go support that idiot Yellow Skin. I must assemble the fleet immediately!"

Without any hesitation, Mordred boarded the Stormbird and headed straight for the New Nippori, leaving Peturabo alone, bewildered in the wind.

Just ten minutes later, the New Nippori disappeared from the Olympia orbit, plunged into the Netway Gate, and headed straight for its tranquil home.

Although Mordred always claimed that he couldn't compare to Goff's command skills, that was just an excuse. He just wanted to take the opportunity to slack off; after all, he was a Primarch.

Taking advantage of the time he still had, Mordred immediately began his remote micro-management:

"Brian, I've made the following arrangements:"
First, order all Atlas members remaining in the Silence to assemble and hand over all the Fel Crystals!
Second, send Tom to Angustrom and have Zeratul deliver the item from the Hive's Third Research Institute to Kragg. Calculate the time; by the time we arrive, it will be large enough to be operational.

Third, order those brats from the First Legion to hold out a little longer; reinforcements will arrive in 13 days.

And lastly, and most importantly, go get me a glass of orange juice!

"Roger that!"

Mordred knew that Randan was no ordinary alien. Even though he knew very little about them, he remembered that these damned creatures were capable of enslaving other races and that their technological strength was no less than that of the Empire.

It's a pity that he fell asleep when his roommate Lobster was bragging in his past life and didn't hear what he said afterward, otherwise he could have obtained the most important intelligence advantage.

"Enslaving others? That's laughable. If you could enslave my Atlas, I'd fucking kneel down and kowtow to you, calling you 'daddy,' and go fight those four pieces of trash!"

In the pitch-black bridge, Mordred sat alone on the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. A murky, dim, multicolored evil light surrounded him, reflecting his inhuman, twisted shadow, greedily dissolving the warp entities that had strayed into the network.

Red, green, blue, purple, all sorts of strange colors blended together, finally transforming into a bright, shimmering, fluorescent emerald green.

Devouring, absorbing, the incomplete and broken essence yearns to be complete. Even though Mordred knows he has no soul, he enjoys the satisfaction of filling the emptiness in his heart with the things of others.

After all, Mordred firmly believed that demons had no sense of pain, so she figured it was better to satisfy her own appetite than to waste it.

"Old Huang, Old Huang, aren't you just using me as a target to draw fire? Then I'll be the target for you!"

"..."

"Wait! Where's my orange juice?"

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

As the eldest among all legions, the First Legion truly deserves its title as the leader of all legions. It is a true all-rounder, capable of beating any other legion until they call it "daddy."

Judging solely from the fact that all the legion structures evolved from the First Legion, these Hakimi are the most valued pawn in the Emperor's hands.

Unlike the Six Wings formed after the Lion King's return, the First Legion at this time still used the Heavenly Army organization devised for them by the Emperor. The ten Heavenly Armies were all different, but all were terrifyingly strong, encompassing the characteristics and functions of all the legions of the Empire and even the Mechanicus.

All the Space Marines of the First Legion understood that they were His Majesty's most valued invincible blades, and that the Emperor must have his secrets, secrets that they would ultimately have to fulfill.

However, the future is the future. At this moment, Urian only wanted to chop those damned aliens into pieces; otherwise, he would not be able to quell the hatred in his heart.

As the Grand Instructor of the Heavenly Crown Army, who is best at breaking through the front lines, Urian always felt that he was a bit unlucky. First, his good friend Brian abandoned him, saying that they didn't ask to be born in the same year and month, but only to die in the same year and month.

But in the blink of an eye, he sold himself out, saying that his Primarch had returned and he was going to take the Abomination Paradigm home, and that they shouldn't contact each other anymore, because he was afraid his father would misunderstand. After nearly forty years of living and eating together, Urian had long forgotten that Brian was from the Second Legion. Not only him, but almost the entire First Legion had accepted this group of optimistic and cheerful cousins.

Even through a vote, the nine Supreme Grand Mentors wanted to vindicate Brian and let him lead the Void Army as the tenth Grand Mentor, but that bastard ran away.

It's one thing for you to run away, since the Primarch has returned and everyone can understand, but why did you take my power sword?

"Damn Tom, it must be that good-for-nothing bastard. If it weren't for you, my brother would never have abandoned us."

TOM!

With a single axe stroke, Urian decapitated his opponent. He swung the axe handle, dragging the severed leg as he quickly retreated from the discovered hiding place. Based on previous experience, the group of aliens named Randan were about to begin their bombardment.

As expected, as the company quickly withdrew, the Death Fire descended from the sky, illuminating the night sky and turning their previous hiding place into ruins.

"Company commander, when will our reinforcements arrive?"

"How should I know? Anyway, the last message I received was 13 days. Judging by the time, that bastard Brian should be here soon."

"Brian? That traitor, I'll never forget the two pistols he stole from me, and I've heard that his Primarch isn't any better, he's incredibly petty!"

And they haven't even arrived yet; it's clearly an attempt to seize the spoils of victory.

Urian remained silent, focusing solely on counting the ammunition. Their ammunition was running low, and they had to use it sparingly. Without turning his head, he said:
"Shut up, you bastard. You're just eating too well. You know how good Prince Mordred's reputation is in other legions. It's just that we have abundant resources and can be self-sufficient."

If you say that to any other legion, I'm afraid you'll get shot in the back.

Moreover, the Second Legion is the closest unit to us, and only they can move quickly enough to arrive in just 13 days, which has already exceeded my expectations. How many men do we have left?

"63!"

Upon hearing this number, Urian's face grew even more grim. Of the original 17,000 men, less than a hundred remained. Had he not chosen to fight to the death and used his fleet to cripple the enemy's celestial combat weapons, none of them would have survived.

Even after sacrificing a huge amount of resources to replace the Battle Moon, the First Legion still suffered heavy casualties on the ground against the Randan Xenomorphs, who were in no way inferior to the Empire. Moreover, more than half of them were executed by themselves.

"That damned alien bastard dared to contaminate the pure genes of humans. We absolutely cannot let anyone know, or the Empire will be finished."

Prepare collapse bombs; if all else fails, fight to the death.

All the Space Marines who heard this knew why; they had all seen that chillingly horrific scene, a blasphemy beyond blasphemy.

If they cannot eliminate the enemy, then at least they must completely destroy this battle moon, absolutely not allowing it to be repaired, and absolutely not letting a single word of it leak out.

"What if Atlas manages to get the message out?"

Upon hearing this, everyone looked at the combat comrade. There was neither rebuttal nor reprimand; all that remained was cautious contemplation hidden beneath the terracotta armor.

Just as everyone was calculating how to leave behind a Primarch, Urian suddenly noticed that the sky was different; it had suddenly turned green.
This strange phenomenon instantly put Urian on edge, immediately reminding him of his enslaved and rebellious brothers-in-arms. He promptly removed all his weapons and equipment and moved away from the crowd.

"Am I infected?"

But at this moment, no one answered the question anymore, because everyone saw the emerald green grassland that covered the sky.

Perhaps sensing the gaze of the canned boy, the lush green meadow began to rapidly disintegrate, disappearing completely in just five seconds.

"What is this thing? I feel a sense of malice, like someone is staring at my head from behind!"

The same Space Marine was speaking, but everyone thought he was being paranoid. Only Cypher knew that his intuition was right.

"What exactly is it?"

"I don't know. All I know is that it's an indescribable, terrifying monster. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl, like...like..."

"It's like you're about to get punched in the head and sent flying, right?"

"Yes! That's right, that's the feeling, it's absolutely terrifying! Wait! Who's talking? Come out here."

Before Cypher could turn and swing his sword, a large hand covered in heavy armor descended from the sky, pressing down on his helmet, and a whisper as deadly as death rang in his ears:
"I think I heard you saying I'm petty, didn't you?"

(屮゜Д゜)屮

(End of this chapter)