Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Ahem, I must issue an order!

From now on, every time humans create a story about a race with pointed ears, tall stature, and fairly good-looking faces, I will write a bad ending for them!

Their era is over!

Some people like to write erotic stories, but that's not what the emperor requires; it's a human need.

World War I, the Somme River.

As Tolkien crawled out of the trenches and followed the veteran in front of him toward the safe front, amidst the deafening roar of artillery fire, a thought suddenly popped into his head.

Feeling dizzy and lightheaded, he collapsed to the ground.

Hearing the commotion, the veteran Orpeson turned around, cursing Nys for being a heartless bastard, and had no choice but to pick up Tolkien and run away.

Aaron was busy preparing for takeoff, washing the plates in his hands and putting them back in their place, and wiping the benches and seats.

He had no idea what his elderly father was thinking about—the despicable act of digging up someone's ancestral graves. All he knew was that he had to clean the house before going out.

The weather is getting hotter and hotter; if we don't clean it properly, bugs will inevitably get in.

I wonder how well Guilliman is dealing with the bugs.

Aaron felt that the more younger brothers he had, the more he had to worry about, and he wondered if he could find a way to balance things out.

Find a suitable time for your younger brother to go and help Guilliman; it sounds like he's all alone there.

Meanwhile, his other brothers are located in a different timeline in the past, and Guilliman in that timeline has never met him.

We need to get Guilliman some more powerful weapons first.

Then find some people who can spare the time to support the future, gather them all on one ship, and let yourself crash headfirst into Guilliman's side to help!

Aaron thought to himself, and after leaving the house, he glanced at his father's hair as he walked ahead. Hmm, there was still plenty of hair left.

Moreover, it seems that after the father was struck by the mother's lightning last time, and by the black lightning in the future, his hair is showing signs of growing back.

Then there's even less to worry about. Father can suffer a little more; he can take the beatings himself.

Besides, although he couldn't beat his father, he could still make him look bad.

The father and son, each with their own ulterior motives, led Marum, who was carrying a whole case of fruit wine and snacks, to the theater.

No tickets are required for entry, as many wealthy women give tips to support these theater troupes.

Except for some newly written works, which may incur a ticket fee for a limited time, the theater is open to the public free of charge.

Anyway, the ladies don't need to vote for any kind of conference. They have plenty of money at home, so instead of spending it on gigolos, they can secretly keep men.

It would be better to invest openly in these young and handsome actors, so that when the men come and see them, they'll have a way to make contact.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all lie in bed together, study art, and learn something new?

Actors who can catch the eye of their "tiger mom" at home are usually good candidates in terms of physique, appearance, and mannerisms.

As a result, the front row seats of the theater troupe were already occupied.

Aaron could only lead his elderly father and Marum to the high seat they had sat on that morning.

We're quite close to the Echo Wall here, so we can hear the actors' lines clearly.

Anda found it a bit noisy. He had originally planned to just glance at the place for a few minutes after arriving and then go straight to sleep.

Now I can't even sleep peacefully.

We can't dismantle this echo wall yet, lest Aaron can't hear his lines.

Ah, I really am a father who cares about his son.

Today's performance is "Prometheus, the Fire Thief." The story begins with Prometheus, an uncle of Zeus, who did not participate in Cronus's oppression of the newborn gods, and whose outstanding wisdom also contributed to the success of the performance.

Therefore, they were able to live at the foot of Mount Olympus, retaining their divine status and escaping punishment.

But Prometheus, who lived at the foot of the mountain, witnessed the suffering of humans who were starving and freezing, something that the gods on the mountain, indulging in music and revelry, could not see.

Zeus did not want lowly humans to enjoy the light and heat of the night.

In this way, humanity will no longer believe in gods and pray for their protection.

Zeus himself watched this absurd drama unfold, muttering curses under his breath, saying that Euripus was Prometheus.

I don't know how the story was written later, since Zeus clearly had a good relationship with humans when he was young.

After suddenly becoming a god-king and growing a white beard, he began to become petty and extremely jealous.

Damn it, when did he become so petty!

Who wrote this story?! He's getting revenge! How could he be so petty!

Adachi lay down, leaning against the box containing food and drink, and complained:

"You're really enjoying this? They're wearing black robes and have messy, pale makeup on their faces. Are they playing ghosts?"

Marum cautiously leaned closer and reminded him:

"Sir, Athens is quite averse to blasphemy in public. To avoid unnecessary trouble, please be careful with your words."

Upon hearing this, Anda became even more sullen.

Someone is slandering you in front of you!

Even as a human being, he has the right to protect his reputation.

Look, these people have hired an ugly monster to dance haphazardly behind the curtain as a manifestation of the god-king's dark heart.

The unwavering Prometheus, as the embodiment of wisdom and perseverance and the protector of humankind, is illuminated by the surrounding firelight.

Those who don't know the story might mistake Hades for the person sitting on the throne.

What kind of rubbish is this? Adaptations can't be made up randomly, and fictionalized stories can't be made up!

He felt incredibly bored, and he also felt a surge of heat rising uncontrollably from his chest.

If I were still listening here, I wouldn't be able to hold back and would definitely strike everyone present with lightning.

It also needs to be carefully adjusted to a high voltage of 250V.

Adachi stood up abruptly, expressing his dissatisfaction:

"I'm going out for a walk, and I'll see if there are any people night fishing, and I'll watch how they fish."

"Marum, protect Aaron, and you don't need to worry about me."

Anda threw down two sentences and fled the stage where he had been publicly slandered under the cover of night.

As I slowly jumped down from the side, I saw an acquaintance hiding in the corner. He wasn't watching the show, but was muttering something in a mysterious way.

It was Mébéon.

Anda became interested and went over to ask.

Good heavens, it turns out that after Mébion finished writing the story, he was unable to publish it because he had warned himself against it.

So I wrote several new stories and submitted them over the past few days, but none of them were selected.

He was waiting by the theater, anticipating the end of the performance to contact the troupe and persuade them to perform his new work.

When Mebion heard about the reappearance of this god-king, he poured out his anguish, and as he spoke, he seemed to go insane.

He immediately wanted to prostrate himself in worship, wailing:

"I can no longer create new stories, Zeus, please allow me to continue writing the previous ones!"

His face darkened. What was this creative urge all about? How could someone be willing to risk divine punishment just to create something?

Anda angrily retorted, "Can't you create stories without those vulgar plot points?!"

He kicked Mébion in the waist, causing him to scramble to his feet.

"You can write a story with a positive character; leave the matter of whether the theater troupe will accept it to me!"

Chapter 169 Guilliman: I was thinking of throwing a Cyclone Torpedo at Terra (32K)

Mépion hurriedly waved his hand and said:

"You don't need to worry about that. Actually, I have ways to force the troupe to perform my plays. However, I hope to win them over with my talent, not with connections!"

His good friend is the governor's secretary; he can easily issue a few words and have a little script played out.

Anda looked at them with a disappointed expression, thinking, "Have these guys lost their minds?!"

Why bother caring about saving face in something like this?

This child is hopeless!

He simply reached out and touched Mébion's forehead, wanting to erase all those memories that were humiliating to him.

Since we can't persuade this person or stop his surging creative desire, why not just take away all his materials?

Adachi found a way to stop the spread of his unofficial history without harming anyone.

He watched the playwright roll his eyes, fall to the ground, and tremble from the electric shock, then left satisfied.

But Adachi is still young enough not to understand the wickedness of human nature.

I wonder what terrifying plot twists might emerge from other people's minds if the true historical records were buried.

Aaron was still watching the drama unfold with great interest, when the scene came on where Prometheus was bound to a cliff and suffered the torment of being pecked at by eagles every day.

Those people used simple beef and blood to glue together the front of their torsos, serving as wounds.

From here on, it's a long lyrical poem; after all the previous conflicts have been played out, the drama indeed becomes boring.

The story should end with Prometheus's torture, rather than dedicating a large portion of the following time to this hymn-singing monologue.

Aaron commented, glancing at Marum beside him who was sitting upright, seemingly oblivious to whether he had understood, and said:

"Marum, you go find that old man. I'm worried he might cause trouble again tonight. I'll go back by myself after the performance."

Marum looked at the wooden box in his hand and hesitated:

“It’s not safe for you to carry the box alone, and the master said we don’t need to worry about it.”

It's safer to stay by Aaron's side, who's unlikely to cause any trouble, than to follow the master around in fear.

The two simply ignored their old man and happily waited for the performance to end so they could go home.