Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Little Pei pondered this until his new company commander, Midrod, came to summon him:

"Seven companies have already been replenished, Father. We should set off now. I heard that the Ministry of Military Affairs has some complaints about us, saying that we are all just freeloaders who only take things without doing any work."

Midrod carefully relayed the Empire's internal views on the Iron Warriors.

Before the Primarch's return, they were just reckless brutes who only knew how to attack.

After the Primarch returned, he became a coward who was good at everything from taking bribes to demanding favors, but never went to the front lines.

Xiao Pei rubbed the cable in her hair in frustration, muttering under her breath:

"Get lost! Don't those people know my father is the Emperor? This galaxy belongs to our family, and I care about it far more than they do. Going to the front lines now is just suicide. We should at least wait until we have all the intelligence. Then we can achieve in a few months what other legions have taken years to accomplish!"

"Midrod, show some respect and talk back! Iron Warriors only appear on the battlefields where they are most needed, not to die in vain!"

Xiao Pei expressed the ultimate operating logic of the Iron Warrior: he preferred to find the weakness of a fortress before attacking it.

Instead of recklessly killing people, he's not stupid. His recent private city defense drills with his good friend Dorn have been quite effective.

Even the Imperial Guard began to tacitly allow some brave military recorders to appear near the palace to document the results of exercises.

It seems that someone from Alpha approached him to discuss joining the exercise, but he refused.

"Never mind, Midrod. If they really push too hard, you decide what to do! I appoint you with full authority to command all the Iron Warriors! You're a very cautious person, but you think things through a lot, so I trust you!"

After saying this, Xiao Pei let out a long sigh and prepared to go out for a walk to clear her head.

The good son followed eagerly behind:

"Father, Father! What are you doing?!"

Without turning her head, Xiao Pei said, "Write a letter to my father. I want to stay in Terra!"

Chapter 154 Peturabo: Ready to Die! (3K)

“Father! I think this is too radical, and His Majesty will definitely refuse!”

Midrod tried to dissuade his young father from his carefree behavior, as the Iron Warriors' replenishment process on Terra was already somewhat slow.

They even set aside extra time for Imperial Fist to practice offense and defense.

Even if His Majesty himself is not in Terra, many Imperial institutions find it difficult to directly criticize a Primarch; at most, they can only offer a few sarcastic remarks.

But if Peturabo really did deliver this letter to His Majesty, Midrod couldn't help but wonder if his Iron Warriors were about to become the first legion to lose their Primarch.

Their father will be beaten to a pulp by His Majesty!

Oh, it's already been beaten up once.

That might just be a special way for fathers and sons to connect emotionally; their grandchildren shouldn't interfere.

Xiao Pei stood on the balcony of this tall building, hands on her hips, looking down at the plastering site below:

"Don't worry, Midrod. After receiving Alpha's intelligence, we'll head to Sira. It's one of the centers of the Galactic Frontier and a good choice among the forward preparation world outposts. There are many opponents to choose from."

"If there's any tough nut to crack, try cooperating with other legions first. If you still can't take it down after cooperating, then come to me."

While Xiao Pei was busy shifting the blame to his eldest son and preparing to be free of any trouble, and was focused on researching the time machine, he had no idea how terrifying he would be when he finished writing this letter and delivered it to his father.

"By the way, take one out of ten Iron Warriors and leave me one-tenth of them. I need to help my good brother Dorn complete the defense construction of Terra. I can't do without people under my command, one-tenth is enough."

Xiao Pei consciously planned and arranged her troops, taking her father's grand expedition plan very seriously.

Nine-tenths of the people went to fight, so what's wrong with leaving one-tenth?

Midrod, who had risen through the ranks from fourth company commander to first company commander and even "legion commander," watched as the vast estate of the Iron Warriors lay before him.

The young father, whose mind might not be as mature as his own, looked at him with encouragement.

Midrod blurted out:

"Father, what if I'm drawn as the one who stays in Terra during the eleventh draw?"

Peturabo's face turned ashen, his nostrils flared as if a furnace of flames was about to burst forth.

“If you say anything that displeases me again, Midrod, I’ll make sure you never get a rest.”

The latter hurriedly sped up and jumped off the balcony, disappearing on the road to Star Harbor.

People in the distance pointed and whispered, saying that the Primarch of the Iron Warriors was exploiting his offspring and committing all sorts of irrational acts.

This has driven Astartes to this state of madness.

I even vaguely heard signs of an "eleven-draw" event, which might mean an eleven-draw massacre!

No, I must write this down immediately so His Majesty can punish this rebellious son when he returns!

Dedu, 600 BC.

Aaron is praying for the few victims of this organ curse incident and digging graves.

The demons' cruelty and malice were unimaginable. Even though Anda did his best, he could not prevent people from dying before he could act.

Although these deaths account for less than one ten-thousandth of all deaths, they still represent the loss of life.

Anda allowed Aaron to bury these dead in the name of Zeus, the king of the gods, and to preserve their organs, which failed to return to their bodies, as psionic projections as part of his knowledge.

On the road to the future, he will become the most intelligent being among all humankind, perhaps simply because of an increase in the amount of knowledge he possesses.

The only difference between Anda and Magnus is that Anda is somewhat carefree and doesn't have any psychological burden until the ultimate goal is achieved.

In the future, the possibility of making compensation measures to create a new legion for the pony family would cross Magnus's bottom line.

Ironically, judging from the final outcome, Magnus himself gradually lost sight of his legions and failed to find an opportunity to rid the Thousand Sons of corruption.

His predictions about the future are always correct.

"Alright, we'll just mutter a few words and then leave to live a normal life."

Anda didn't let Marum help dig the pit and fill it with soil; he made Aaron do all the physical work himself.

We'll need this to move things up the mountain later (crossed out).

Aaron struggled to calm himself as he buried the dead, personally sewing the organs back together.

The mummification process, which I didn't witness in Egypt, was experienced in Dhoby, albeit in reverse.

Alas, the artisans of the Egyptian pharaohs didn't teach him this. Aaron often had to rely on Anda's instructions to put these organs back in their original positions and pray for the deceased to rest in peace.

Marum had reason to suspect that the master had lost his mind and was using this bloody and horrific scene as a means to improve the parent-child relationship.

It's like a little kid building with blocks, with the old father squatting beside him giving instructions.

But this thing is a corpse—

Unfortunately, Marum had little ability to influence his father's parenting process, and the more he said, the more misfortune he brought to his father Guilliman's future life.

Aaron filled the hole with the last handful of soil and looked at his elderly father beside him:

“Father, I’ve heard you say before that you had an immortal companion who was the prototype for the Egyptian mummification process. Did you do it the same way? You categorized human organs and saw each one.”

Andaton was satisfied. "You see, this method of improving parent-child relationships is quite effective," he said. "My son quickly connected it to the story I mentioned before."

Nodding and saying:

“Not bad, but the scene was more violent. We dismembered the body ourselves. Olperson broke off the head, Poseidon dismembered the limbs, I cut out the heart, your mother ripped out the lungs, and Hades removed the kidneys—”

"Ahem, I digress. The scene looked like an evil sacrificial ceremony. But we did act at the request of our companion. Fortunately, we didn't eat them or have them recorded in murals by the nearby primitive tribes."

The father and son walked home, with Marum following behind, listening to these chaotic and corrupt remarks, suppressing his urge to draw his chainsaw sword.

Aaron wasn't bothered; he was simply curious about these past events.

But the master—

I'm terrified that one day I won't be able to resist and will shove a chainsaw sword into the master's mouth.

Evening was still quiet in Dedu.

The ostracism session could not proceed, even though within Athens, the archon's political enemies were still trying to turn things around and expel the archon's secretary.

However, the miracles that occurred in Dedus today, especially the lightning that struck down from the sky, all demonstrated Zeus's wrath.

Dedu, you don't deserve to join the Athens party!

Therefore, the people of Dedu no longer had the power to exile the governor's secretary, thus buying time for the governor.

The governor himself didn't feel anything special; it was just a small victory in one political battle after another.

His secretary, Solon, was overjoyed to have been given the opportunity to stay in Athens.

His friend, the playwright Mébion, was traveling from the Aegean port to Détude, and then overnight to Athens.

The two met at a tavern. They had both been students of the same teacher in their youth, but one went into politics and the other into the arts. This was their first meeting since they parted ways.

"Congratulations, Solon, you can stay in Athens and continue to strive for your ambitions."

Mépion toasted his friend, an "old man" nearing forty, who remains a capable assistant to the consul.

Solon looked much younger than Mebion, not like a forty-year-old man. In fact, Zeus gave him a long life to face his fate.

He loosened the sashes on his clothes to help himself relax:

“Phew—thank you, Mébion. I still miss the days when we studied philosophy together in our youth, and the time I went on to do business and travel after graduation. But when I arrived in Athens and entered politics, everything changed. I put on a mask, a mask that I could wear to achieve my goals, a mask that I could transform into whatever form anyone needed to see.”

“One, God? No, I’m not blasphemous, but I’m putting myself in that perspective. Otherwise, I would be tormented by the countless realities I’ve witnessed. Bankrupt businessmen, cheating lovers, rebellious children—everyone has their own misfortunes.”

"After forming a citizenry, how should their misfortunes be resolved? Should they obey the interests of the city-state? When Prometheus divided the sacrificial meat, he deceived Zeus so that people could eat the meat."

"And now, I'm starting to doubt whether everything I've done has been a form of deception."

Solon rarely had the opportunity to speak these words to others and explain his inner turmoil.

After becoming the consul's secretary, he never spoke from the heart again.

"Alright, now that I've finished venting, tell me why you suddenly rushed over here? We've explored all the areas around Athens when we were young, but we don't have any material for you to create with."

Mébion found this very difficult to understand; when he wrote his plays, he would only briefly touch upon political matters.

The kings in the stories are either wise or tyrannical; there's no need to elaborate on the merits or demerits of their policies, but rather to highlight the good or evil of their personal actions.

Mépion poured himself a glass of fruit wine and sighed:

"Then let's talk about something unrelated to the mundane. I saw a terrifying person who could jump from a tall building and be completely unharmed."

“I think we can create a new hero story. Coincidentally, you must have heard of the lightning of Deddu, or even seen it from afar. I was there myself, Zeus appeared, buddy.”