Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Aaron reached out and picked up Angron, but his mind couldn't help but conjure up the image of Angron standing beside his sleeping father, coldly and ruthlessly holding a kitchen knife.

He comforted:

"It's okay, we were going to give him a haircut tonight anyway. Besides, I've observed that as long as the hair falls out completely, it's fine. There are still quite a few stubbles left, so it won't cause any problems."

Anda had just been moved by Angron's words and was about to say something when he heard Aaron's obvious preferential treatment. He immediately expressed his dissatisfaction:

“But it looks so ugly! I’ve been going to see your mother every night these past few days, and she keeps laughing and makes me turn my back to her. I thought she’d made herself look younger and that it made her feel better.”

"I didn't realize they were making fun of my hair!"

Apollo laboriously reached his hand out from the ground: "Stop, I'm not interested in your sex life, don't talk about these things in front of children."

He clutched his aching back and struggled to his feet, looking at the father and his two sons with a face full of grief and indignation:

“I swear, I will never sacrifice anything for your family again in this lifetime. You are all so devoted to your father and son, but not one of you cares about me.”

Then, the great God of Light, bathed in dim light, climbed to the dining table and began to eat.

That being said, we still have to eat the food Aaron cooks.

While the three of them were examining Neos's hair, I quickly ate my meal.

Ultimately, the father and his two sons came up with a suitable solution.

Aaron, along with Angron, gave Neos a short haircut with a similar style, and added a headband that Athenians preferred.

I also have to shave him every day.

It's a clean and refreshing look, and it makes you look a few years younger.

After that, Anda made Aaron stop calling him "old man" and instead call him "father."

I'll make plans after my hair grows back to its original size.

Anda's mood was as unpredictable as the weather; after getting Aaron's compromise, he beamed with joy.

Even though he had already eaten a large bowl of Lao Wu's grass broth and rice, he could still compete with Apollo for a proper meal.

For Anda, this was a great victory. Whenever Aaron's brothers made mistakes, he could use the opportunity to threaten Aaron into showing him more respect!

Hahaha! Aaron, you don't want your brother to—

Cough cough--

He ate a little too fast, still laughing to himself and imagining a bright future of filial piety, when he finally coughed and vomited it out.

To atone for his mistake, Angron had to quickly step forward, towel in hand.

"Daddy, wipe your mouth!"

Only Aaron, sitting across the table, remained, coldly and indifferently watching his father.

Only after they had taken their elderly father back inside did the two pointy-eared men dare to emerge from the basement.

They dared not arbitrarily inquire about the Black King's old family relationships, fearing that they might witness some dark history and be silenced in the end.

They used to be fearless, after all, they had the protection of the God of Laughter; it would be more accurate to say they were just courting death.

But now they are afraid, because they have found a way to completely escape the fate of being devoured by Slaanesh.

We are currently in the era 30,000 years ago, when the Eldar Empire was at its peak and the Slaanesh had not yet uttered their first cry.

If the crucial news of the "Holy Son" could be spread, who knows how many compatriots could be saved in the future.

Of course, Saviour and Redo were still desperate about the birth of Slaanesh, as they were clowns and knew a lot about the past.

The faith of a single Holy Son could at most save the Eldar on dozens of planets.

The corrupt trend of the entire Eldar Empire is irreversible.

“Son, all our rehearsals are finished. After tomorrow’s performance, please ask your father for our freedom.”

“Our race also faces a terrible fate, and we must do something about it.”

Sibi respectfully stated her thoughts.

Aaron said as he cleared the table:

“We have never restricted your freedom, and you don’t need to call me Holy Son, it sounds strange. Just call me Aaron.”

"Tomorrow, inside my father's and uncle's bodies, do not do anything out of line. Just perform properly, and you will be free."

Aaron suddenly remembered something and added:

"But before you leave, I hope to paint a portrait of you as a memento. So that I can tell others in the future that I really met the pointy-eared people, instead of being mistaken for frauds."

Sibi replied respectfully, "Of course, it is our honor, Holy Son."

Aaron stubbornly insisted, "Just call me by my name!"

Sibi replied blankly, "Okay, Holy Son."

In his view, names are just titles; what is called is not important, as long as the other party knows that they are calling him.

Redo, however, was more concerned about tomorrow's work. He was organizing the props used to disguise the snake-like torso, a combination of skin and movable support.

"Mr. Apollo will be playing Medusa tomorrow, but we all feel that your father has better flexibility in his waist. There are still many signs of bending during the extreme stunts in the past few days, so it seems that your father has done a lot of preparation in advance."

Aaron was surprised. So his father went out in the middle of the night to warm up?

How could that be! He must have gone to meet his mother in secret.

No, they are still husband and wife, so it's not a secret rendezvous.

Apollo became dissatisfied again:

"Don't make me imagine those two crazy people! Anyway, you've already decided that you'll just wake me up tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep now."

Now only Aaron is still waving the prop in his hand with great interest, imagining how to control the movement of someone stuffed inside.

Redo explained:

"In our country, we would usually amputate the leg and replace it with a snake's body. That way, we wouldn't have to worry about control issues, as our neural connections and rejection treatments are the best in the entire galaxy."

Aaron didn't quite understand, but he sighed and said that these words sounded strange. Could they really say them with such pride?

He asked curiously:

"Then why not cut it off at the waist instead of preserving the waist and hip curves?"

Redo said seriously, "Because the reproductive system of humanoid creatures ends below the waist and hips. Besides, without buttocks, snake people would look much less aesthetically pleasing."

Aaron sighed helplessly:

"Sigh, I don't really understand your aesthetic sense. Do people really like snake demons?"

The forty-second millennium, the Slaanesh Realm, the Golden Palace.

Slaanesh himself is also very interested in collecting art, whether it is purple mood-themed or something that can be displayed in public, he takes it all into his possession.

This palace, too, was once the dwelling place of the great emperor's son, Forgrim.

The mucus secreted between the primordial snake's tail and scales had, for a considerable period of time, filthled every crack in the brickwork of the palace.

Today, however, the Golden Palace has been cleaned up and decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, welcoming the Primarch who walks in on two legs.

Fugrim had recently made a statement that was quite righteous, and it was not meant to be a joke or a theatrical performance.

Rather, He is truly prepared to do something to meet spiritual needs.

His physical needs had been satisfied, and the Primarch also needed to have some pursuits.

So, in this galaxy, what pursuit could be more exciting for the Primarchs than sitting on that throne (symbolically) and ruling the entire Galactic Empire?

The Primarch walked to his small throne, and His Legion took the horns from Slaanesh and set them into the seat.

(Slaanesh: It's just some dead skin.)

The Primarch sat gracefully on the throne, knees together, exuding an air of innocence and untainted purity.

Although He Himself is already the most defiled being in the entire galaxy.

"After crawling on the ground for so long, it really feels a bit strange to switch back to human feet."

After all, snakes don't need to separate their legs, while humans have many limitations on their lower limbs.

"My adjutant, tell me, following the same procedure we used when we embarked on our expedition more than ten thousand years ago, where should we march?"

A Slaanesh was struggling to pull the Chaos Astartes embedded in its body. It was very reluctant to play along with the Primarch, but since the Primarch's lieutenant was stuck inside and couldn't get out, it had to use Chafanra to act as its representative.

It represents the desire for dietary satisfaction, and is praised verbally:

“My lord, our target is Shera, and the Black Legion and Peturabo are also eyeing it.”

Chapter 209 Poseidon's Followers: I Want to See a Tsunami Flood Athens! (3K)

Fugrim nodded slightly, gazing ahead as if he were in the flagship's command center.

He commanded:

“Let’s go. Peturabo will definitely make a mess of things. Father used to hate him the most.”

Having learned many imperial secrets, Chafanla asked curiously:

“The cursed should hate the Lord of Red Sand even more.”

Even Forgrim felt a pang of nostalgia upon hearing this name:

“No, Father never regarded Anglon as his son. I even doubt whether Anglon considered us brothers.”

Meanwhile, in 600 BC, Athens.

The Angron, whom Forgrim had mentioned was not the Emperor's son, was currently pulling his elderly father out of bed.

Before sunrise, the stage in front of the arena had been set up, and everyone was waiting for the arrival of this mysterious troupe.

The old man's biological clock was so strange that Aaron couldn't help but want Angron to kick Anda in the face a couple of times.

Anyway, his father's condition was that he should respect him, but he didn't mention Anglong.

Finally, before Apollo could suggest that Anglon should bring a basin of water and pour it on, Anda groggily woke up.

Then Marum lifted him up and placed him on the table, his head dangling in the air, with a basin of water underneath.

Aaron rummaged through Marum’s armory and found a suitable knife, then began to cut and shave Anda’s hair.