Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Could he compare to his father? He wasn't sure, but he just felt that he could.

"Go give it a try, Aaron. Maybe we can bring one of our brothers over."

Luo Jia encouraged him, saying that the time had come to test his strength.

Aaron took a deep breath, bid farewell to his two younger brothers, and stepped into the passage leading to the fourth ring.

Luo Jia clasped his hands together, and a huge surge of psionic energy embedded itself in the four rings.

The two brothers watched as their elder brother reached the center of the circle.

Perturabo asked in a low voice, "Could you use illusion-type psychic energy to construct the world that my brother encountered?"

Luo Jia nodded and said, "Okay, but my brother, when he's here you call him by his name, but when he's not here you call him 'brother.' Doesn't that make your logic all messed up?"

Before Xiao Pei could even retort, Luo Jia slapped her face with psionic energy, giving her a glimpse into Aaron's perspective.

It was in a desolate valley, surrounded by the corpses of countless grotesque beasts, and even an infant, an infant whose body had rapidly swelled into a bizarre shape to adapt to the needs of battle.

Clearly, these corpses were the work of infants.

Countless efforts to bring him to his knees by fate have been in vain.

But cruel fate had already arrived; the baby was caught, and he was powerless to resist.

An instrument that resembles a torture device is fixed in place, and is about to be activated under the watchful eyes of those around it, to inject those abominable nails into its brain.

Aaron landed in front of the instrument and turned around to see what was happening.

The blood-soaked infant's angry and sorrowful eyes dissipated his emotions, like a void of emotions, watching over him and his brothers.

Without uttering a word, Peturabo broke free from Loga's illusion and rushed into the circle.

Chapter 177 The Roar of Nukelia (32K)

For some reason, Aaron felt an indescribable sadness when he was stared at by those empty eyes.

Those abominable nails were aimed at the baby's head from all directions, their sharp points already touching the baby's skin.

He cannot let this happen, he absolutely cannot.

Blood-red tears streamed from Aaron's eyes. He didn't even have time to raise his hand to stop it; he could only use his strong will to imagine stopping the nail from being driven in.

Meanwhile, the slave owners' guards around them had already thrown their spears, trying to defeat the young man who had suddenly appeared before them.

woohoo-

The sound of the four overlapping rotating rings was revealed, based on the principle that the flow rate of matter at the center of the rings would be slowed down, as Peturabo had mentioned before.

Time seemed to stretch out, and the thrown spear paused in mid-air.

The downward-pressing nail only slightly scratched the baby's skin and could not penetrate any further.

Aaron was unaffected and stood up.

That was his younger brother; even fate could not stop him.

A brilliant white light spread from the ripples on the water's surface. No one knew where the water was, but it seemed that all sentient beings with wisdom could see the calm surface.

Aaron walked barefoot on the water, overcoming the physical barrier, and came to the instrument of torture.

He reached out and embraced the baby, ignoring the physical restraints of the instruments of torture.

The infant's grotesque body, which had swelled and mutated for the purpose of battle, was restored to its original state and returned to its curled-up form.

He turned around, blood and tears drawing two vertical lines on his face, and sat back on the chair of the torture instruments.

His head was positioned right in the middle of all the nails, but those nails could not touch His true form at all; the area that spread outwards resembled a crown of thorns.

This seat is His throne.

His blood-red pupils gazed into the void behind the slave owners of Nukelia, and the Blood God's gaze returned to them.

He spoke:

"Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12)

He already knew why these slave owners had appeared here; the Blood God had guided them here to bury and kill their own brothers.

All because of their existence, which aroused the fear of the gods.

The Blood God responded with just one sentence:

"Start the war!"

The slave owners of Nukelia roared, and their warriors swarmed forward, for they knew that the "god" before them would not last.

They pressed forward, brandishing their weapons at Aaron, almost reaching him with cruel smiles on their faces.

Indeed, this was the case; Aaron could not maintain this wondrous existence, which completely disregarded the material world, for long.

After his brother, Angron, escaped his fate, his power began to wane and then return.

Angron, he learned the name from the water.

But it doesn't matter, he is the king of all armies, and he has a loyal army to fight for him.

Angron opened his eyes again. This time, there was no change in response to the threat he felt. Instead, he let out the most instinctive cry of a baby, making a babbling sound.

He knew someone would protect him.

Bang!

A violent explosion rang out, and the expanding shockwave overturned and destroyed the entire "throne," revealing a gigantic figure made of steel, about two and a half times the height of a person, behind Aaron.

"A nail is forged from steel, yet it lacks the weight of steel."

Peturabo emerged from the smoke and dust of the explosion and crushed the fragments of nails that had been blown up.

(Logar: I suspect you're alluding to the nails I gave Aaron, but I have no proof.)

The steel giant brandished his weapon and annihilated the hordes of enemies that rushed forward, clearing out an area.

He knelt down on one knee:

“My brother, Peturabo fights for you.”

“My brother, Peturabo, fights for you.”

He had figured it out: Angron's serial number was definitely lower than his own.

Then, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors stood up and looked at the weapons of the locals with great interest. They were not exactly scrap metal, but they had some unique features.

But in front of them, they are all just chickens and dogs.

"Mortals, kneel down!"

He stood beside Aaron and let out a terrible roar:

"I am the son of the Emperor, the lord of the Iron Warriors! By the authority of the Empire, I demand that you kneel and surrender!"

"Otherwise, we will kill you without mercy!"

In fact, he hadn't figured out what the old man at home meant by the "Imperial Truth" in the short time he'd been back. But that's what everyone said before they destroyed someone's planet in war.

Those with sharp eyes immediately bowed down in obeisance. Those without, by this time, were probably already a name on the list drawn up by the Ministry of Military Affairs.

Clearly, these Nukelian slave owners weren't very sharp-eyed.

Peturabo had just noticed that their weapons were somewhat sophisticated, but judging from the clothing of these slave owners and the decorations on their vehicles, their social system was still limited to a backward level.

There were even many slave warriors used for gladiatorial combat, whose rough and wild style was immediately apparent.

The entire planet seems to have been created for bloody and violent gladiatorial combat.

So that's it——

Perturabo strode forward, with the Primarch's personal guard already passing through the circle behind him.

Company Commander Midrod shouldn't have come; his duty was to lead the legion in the absence of the Primarch.

But out of love for his father and fear that something might go wrong, Midrod still rushed over.

Peturabo resisted the urge to kick him back and gave the order:

“Midrod, you have a good tongue. Go and persuade those slave gladiators to rebel against their masters and submit to the Empire.”

Peturabo felt that all he had to do was shout slogans and then go up and kill people.

It's still a bit hard to bring myself to ask him to do the actual negotiations.

He's capable of doing it if he really wants to, but why make things difficult for himself, right?

The Iron Warriors' guards exchanged glances, their eyes sweeping over Aaron and the baby in his arms, but none of them were so oblivious as to ask any questions.

Midrod said in a low voice, "We need to show that we can crush these slave owners so that the slaves will have the confidence to resist."

After saying that, he drew his chainsaw and began to charge.

kill!

When the slave owners begin to fear the slaughter, that's when the slaves will begin to rebel.

What? You're asking whether we should consider the views of the planet's original rulers, these slave owners, and ask them if they're willing to submit to the empire?

This was to facilitate Nukelia's faster recovery of production and maintenance of a relatively stable ruling order, so that it could pay taxes for the empire.

Sorry, you've messed with our Primarch. You must die today.

I don't know which idiot came up with the idea that during the Great Crusade, if the rulers of planets with extremely harsh living conditions were willing to submit to the Empire's rule, they should be spared for the sake of the Great Crusade.

The Primarch's personal guard pressed upwards, and then a stalemate ensued.

Peturab was very dissatisfied. Why did it have to be so difficult to fight these slave society enemies who threw spears?

He was ready to rejoin the battle and see just how sinister this place really was.

Before Peturabo stepped forward, he felt a force pulling at the back of his power armor's cloak.

Aaron does not possess such physical strength.

That is—Angron!

He turned around, and the baby struggled to stand up, clinging to his brother's shoulders, gesturing for Peturabo to move aside.

Xiao Pei turned to the side so that her younger brother could see what was in front of him.