Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

"Theoretically, within Terra, as long as it's not too far, the position I'm pressing down on is determined by the location of the Golden Throne, not by the Golden Throne just blocking that spot."

Anda thought to himself, "At least I could add two wheels to the Golden Throne so it could be pushed around within the palace grounds."

As long as the corresponding wireless psionic transmission is stable, the overall operation will remain stable.

Ah, good idea. I'll look into this tonight.

In the evening, Marum and Aaron washed the pots and dishes, while Anglong nestled in Anda's arms, using a small broom-like object to comb his father's hair.

Anda lay comfortably on the recliner, feeling that having more sons wasn't a bad thing; at least her sons seemed to take good care of her.

It seems I should keep my son with me. Even if I don't educate him, he'll grow up normally without any problems.

So how can we explain to Aaron that the loss of his future sons was not his fault, but rather the fault of Erda and the four subspace treasures?

Only Apollo was squatting next to the fifth brother, sitting on a small stool, venting his frustration on the donkey.

Don't get me wrong, it's just an emotional and verbal expression; there's no Poseidon story involved.

He needed someone to confide in, but clearly none of this family members had a normal thought process, so the fifth brother, who couldn't talk back, was more suitable.

"Fifth brother, you actually have a name now, that's quite an achievement. It was wrong of us to want to eat you back then, but we mainly wanted to see if you were an immortal donkey. Don't mind it, look, Poseidon has harmed so many animals, but he never even considered eating you."

"This shows that we respect you enough."

"Also, when Aaron was just born, we planned to steal him by putting him on your back. But it turns out that besides your longevity, you don't have any special abilities at all. We thought you could travel thousands of miles a day, but we ended up being caught by Erda."

"Judging from Erda's attitude and the ruthlessness she displayed, Aaron is indeed not an immortal,"

"You've tricked us once, so we're even now."

"Sigh, I won't waste any more time on nonsense, you wouldn't understand anyway. Just remember this: when you get the chance, be sure to kick that man's face hard with your donkey hooves!"

As the quiet night fell, and with the recent pleasant weather, Apollo could sleep directly in the donkey shed, since the mosquitoes would only target Anda in the room.

This has been the case since they were in Egypt, and it was the same in Athens.

Anda scolded Marum for not letting him touch the blood, which the mosquitoes could then feast on.

As a result, Anda completely blocks the senses of his surface skin when he sleeps, which explains why he always sleeps like a pig.

Sometimes I get pulled into working overtime by my future self from 40,000 years in the future, so that my future self can have time to listen to symphonies or watch those animated films that the Mechanicus cult has dug out from who-knows-where.

The Cult of Mechanics has a particular fondness for films and television shows featuring large robots, even though many of these robots are actually based on magical forces.

It is said that the Cult of Mechanics is eager to recreate these powerful robots from the old era.

Today, the Great Sage of Cauldron unusually ended his maintenance inspection of the Golden Throne ahead of schedule.

It is said that someone compared the records and found that multiple Sages of Caulda appeared at the same time.

However, no one has ever investigated this question, nor has anyone been able to find out why the sage left work early today.

All that was known was that a large number of Imperial Guards rushed into the Great Sage's sanctuary in a great hurry.

He was chanting something like "wheel, wheel"

With the emperor above them, they shouldn't have any impure thoughts.

Icarus, the Imperial Guard whose name was crossed off the duty roster before the Golden Throne due to his impending retirement, had nothing to do lately except train Loisca, the judge personally appointed by the Emperor for punishment.

Did the God Emperor appoint himself because the two had similar names?

Icarus dared not think about this question in detail.

So, in order to prolong his stay in Terra, Icarus began to order Loisca to memorize the full names of the Imperial Guard, which would be enough for him to find answers to his questions in Terra.

As for why they stormed into the sanctuary of the Great Sage Kaul today, it was because of Marum, that despicable Ultramariner who was appointed as His Majesty's steward, who conveyed His Majesty's decree!

Since playing artistic works for His Majesty and adding a cushion to the Golden Throne, a new task has arrived!

Add wheels to the golden throne!

When the time comes, Icarus can't help but imagine the expressions on the faces of the other guards as they see His Majesty, who is in a wheelchair, taking a stroll in the palace!

He roared, "Great Sage Kaul! No matter how precious the materials for His Majesty's throne wheelchair may be, we will definitely obtain them!"

Caul calmed the nearly frenzied Imperial Guards, and said in a loud voice:

“Materials are not a problem, and the technology is feasible. In fact, the idea of ​​the Golden Throne wheelchair version has been discussed within the Cult of the Machine God, but no one has dared to suggest modifying the blueprints. After all, this is something His Majesty built himself. If His Majesty doesn't speak up, no one dares to make changes, and you certainly wouldn't agree.”

"But now things are different. His Majesty has spoken, and I summoned you here to accomplish this task!"

Chapter 191: All we need to do is fabricate some unofficial history, right? (3K)

Perhaps it was the idea of ​​adding a wheelchair to the golden throne that pleased his future self.

In short, Anda was not forced to work overtime that night, and slept soundly until dawn.

Since there was no way to destroy the chaos and pollution of Athens by causing a great flood or a raging fire from the sky.

Then we have no choice but to find another way and think of other solutions.

“Perhaps we can ask our other brothers for their opinions, such as Loga or Magnus.”

Aaron scooped rice for everyone. Angron was already able to sit independently in a specially made chair, without needing anyone to hold him.

He changes almost every day. Yesterday he looked like an infant, but today he looks like a three or four-year-old child, able to run and jump.

Good morning, Dad! Good morning, brother! Good morning, uncle! Good morning, uncle!

Angron also learned the language almost overnight, but he had not yet learned to control the volume of his voice.

Therefore, he shouted so loudly that Marum dared not accept it.

"Master, Aaron, you should tell the young prince about our generational relationship."

Marum was somewhat alarmed and dared not neglect this issue.

Anda looked disgusted. He was supposed to be her butler, how could he have no guts at all?

"It's just calling you 'uncle.' Look, Apollo is older than me, but he still has to call me 'dad.' From now on, you can address each other as your own."

Apollo's face also showed some fear. He didn't care about seniority, but because from his perspective, the terrifying demon king was shouting at him, his sharp teeth seemingly able to swallow him whole.

He couldn't help but shudder, and nervously handed Anglon a piece of bread.

"Thank you, Uncle!"

Angron continued shouting loudly, and even Aaron couldn't help but gently pat the back of his head:

"Don't speak too loudly, or you'll scare people."

Anglong immediately shut up and nodded, saying, "Understood, brother!"

Adachi still looked unkempt, with food scraps all over his stubble and around his beard.

“Aaron, why don’t you call yourself Anlun from now on? That way, all three of our names will start with the same sound.”

Aaron tossed the towel at him: "Just eat your food, why are you talking so much!"

Anda snorted coldly: "Your son's grown up, he dares to talk back to his father now. Anglong, tell me, do you want your father or your brother?"

Angron decisively said, "I want my brother!"

Anda was so angry that he grabbed something from the table and was about to throw it, but after thinking about it, he didn't do it.

If he does that today, he'll have to eat and sleep next to Lao Wu for the next few days.

"Alright, let's get down to business. Aaron, you take Angron and go shopping again. After all, you're still Hayes' spy. Go and see if you can find any new intelligence."

“Apollo, come with me and recreate the scene we witnessed yesterday, mainly to confirm the purpose of that stage. We all know that many forms of miracles and prayers are a kind of performance.”

“I think those things also need the medium of ‘performance’ to influence people.”

Anda believed he had some knowledge of these strange ritual practices.

Sacrifice is the act of offering something to the gods in order to receive what one desires from them.

So what reason would God have to pay attention to you?

Performance.

For example, children who cry a lot tend to attract more attention from adults.

When people first began to understand the world and prayed to gods they believed to exist, they began to think, "If I do something special, can I attract other people's attention?"

So, if we do something more extreme and unconventional, will we be able to attract God's attention?

Thus, the earliest social class to believe they could contact the gods emerged: shamans or priests.

These people wear special, exaggerated costumes and engage in bizarre, illogical, or even bloody behaviors to attract the attention of God.

This behavior was considered exclusive to the clergy, unless it became common among all races.

(Slaanesh: That's right. If an entire race starts to go mad, then we can see if the gods will go insane too.)

Anda explained his reasons, saying that he was indeed very suitable to be a theology professor in Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries, and even leave his pseudonym in some philosophical books.

Everyone present understood his meaning, and Apollo was particularly worried:

"Therefore, this performance is essentially still dedicated to the so-called God, because God and people watch together, and all the audience members have a way to be influenced by God."

"Sigh, they're doing things in Athena's name now. If that woman finds out, she'll turn Athena upside down."

Aaron keenly noticed the unusual tone in Uncle Apollo's words: Athena's temper might not be so good after all.

However, if theatrical performance is used as a tool to influence people through innate intelligence, then could they find a corresponding performance to counteract this influence?

Aaron's eyes lit up, and he immediately said:

"Father, Uncle, if we could put on a performance for the general public in advance, adding a layer of protection for them, wouldn't that solve the problem?"

Anda slammed his hand on the table, stroking his beard with delight, and said:

"This is a good method; at least I don't have to look for any large lakes or rivers nearby."

The old father's expression quickly calmed down:

“However, theatrical performances in Athens have long been stagnant. They have already seen many of the plays, and I cannot force anything into everyone’s mind.”

"Unless we can pull off a play that's impactful enough to grab the attention of the majority of people. Right now, do any of us have the ability to write a script?"

Aaron looked to Apollo with great anticipation, the god of art and music.

The latter looked bewildered: "Don't look at me. Although I bless playwrights, I myself am not good at scriptwriting, except for playing music."