Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Even if Magnus doesn't compete for the throne, at least he'll have some security in his remaining territory!

If other Primarchs are ambitious, they have to cultivate good relations with the Thousand Sons.

Pedro's gaze at Poseidon gradually changed, from disdain to scrutiny, and then to a look of delight as if he were looking at a pillar of a thousand sons.

It turns out that all along, their sons have had such a powerful backer.

From now on, we won't have to examine ourselves because of psychic issues when we go out. Our Sea King spoke up, and the Thousand Sons lineage can all be considered his disciples!

Thinking of this, Pedro puffed out his chest, his face full of pride.

At the same time, the Emperor, who had just had his phone hung up on, was holding a wrench and tapping Guilliman on the head next to him.

"Hold it tight. If the torque is even slightly off, human civilization will explode and collapse as a result."

Beside him, Guilliman, his face contorted with hatred, had no choice but to do as his father told him to do.

After being released by his father, Guilliman was not allowed to leave Terra, but was instead to stay with his father for a year to help him with a great job.

This is how the Lord of Mankind refers to himself.

He did not give a lengthy or candid explanation of why his previous administration and even his attitude toward the various Primarchies were so illogical.

Instead, it's about experiencing things firsthand through practical methods?

This is indeed a good example of parent-child relationship education; however, these stories usually occur during the child's early childhood or even adolescence.

Guilliman believed he had matured.

Could this be due to the old man's outdated thinking?

In short, Guilliman realized the significance of this great machine.

A torture device, but also a salvation.

It is intended to guide the advancement of human civilization amidst the most turbulent storms of the warp.

The special space extending from here is called the Netway.

In other words, a safe and reliable subspace operational route.

That was the father's purpose.

Therefore, the significance of building a device to maintain safety means that without this device, there would certainly be a disaster that threatens human civilization.

Guilliman soon realized that this was the very disaster his father had been fearing.

But I still don't quite understand why the significance of the catastrophe cannot be made public, or at least the Primarchs of all Legions and some high-ranking Imperial departments should be informed.

This is the way to help solve the problem.

But Guilliman still felt that his father, looking so disheveled today, with a drink bottle in his mouth and a wrench in one hand and a nut in the other, was much better than the emperor sitting on his throne, silent as if he had lost the ability to speak.

"Don't look at me like that, Guilliman. I'm already patiently guiding you, using all the patience I've ever had to reveal the secret you want to know."

The Emperor spoke earnestly, explaining that even though he had decided to inform Guilliman about the existence of the Four Chaos Gods, the process needed to be gradual.

On the other hand, it's because Lao Ma hasn't returned yet. He needs someone to speak for him, someone who can explain things clearly and straightforwardly.

“We are about to reach the core of this machine. I originally thought that all we needed to do was repair it.” The Emperor wiped his sweat. In this place, he was not the perfect emperor in the eyes of ordinary people, but just an ordinary person. “But now it seems that I am actually perfecting, or even recreating, this machine.”

“Guilliman, Crystal No. 32, yes, the one on the right, don’t take the wrong one, or we’ll all be blown to bits.”

A sinister voice rang out: "Yes, my father."

The emperor reached behind him, and a bottle bearing the seal of an ancient warlord's talisman fell into his hand.

Look, the technological power of humankind in the past, as it disintegrated, was regarded as witchcraft.

"No, what did you call me? That's not your voice—"

The emperor's pupils constricted, and he grabbed the newcomer's wrist with his other hand, feeling a chill.

"Conrad Coates!"

He roared and was about to throw his son to the ground.

But he held back, because if the bottle in his hand were to break, all three of them would be in serious trouble.

A head of long, smooth, jet-black hair cascaded down, brushing against the emperor's arm. The son seemed to float forward without needing to walk.

Until, from the shadows, a pale, handsome face emerged, bearing an irreversible dark red scar below the left eyelid.

“It took me a long time to find this place, Father. Omega said that this was the only place they hadn’t searched for. And indeed, Guilliman, my brother is here.”

Coz's tone was elegant yet carried a harsh cruelty, like that of notorious law enforcement officers interrogating criminals.

Dim lighting, being at someone's mercy, and the rustling of torture instruments nearby can cause a psychological breakdown.

The difference is that interrogators may need considerable work experience to develop this skill.

Koz, however, was so naturally gifted at these techniques that he found it difficult to control his tone, even when speaking to his own father.

"Don't rush to refute anything, I have what you want here."

Before the Emperor slapped him, Coz pulled out a photograph.

Peturabo crouched in the corner, covering his face, while a bald young man approached from behind.

Chapter 282 The Night Wanderer (3K)

However, the Emperor still punched Koz in the face, tearing off the decoration below his eyelid.

It was indeed flesh and blood from a wound, but it was flesh that Coz had pulled from under the eyelids of a criminal.

Once it connects with the original organism's flesh and blood, it remains active and cannot heal.

Before Coz was knocked to the ground, he reached for the photograph, glanced at it, and then burned it.

The emperor watched as the ashes in his hand completely dissipated, a coldness creeping into his mouth:

"If Number Four had known that surveillance was running at the time, he would have tried to dismantle the entire Empire's surveillance inventory."

After being punched to the ground by his father, Kurtz didn't rush to get up. Instead, he smiled and greeted Guilliman.

"Hey Guilliman, your brothers miss you. We've tried to save you more than once."

"By the way, I miss Ms. Euton very much. I only visited her once, but the cookies she made for me were much better than the bread from Anglon."

Guilliman looked exhausted and sad, managing only a weak smile.

“You shouldn’t be here, Conrad. Your father will tie you up and torture you.”

He knew the importance of the secret his father was hiding: once Kurtz arrived, there would be no way to escape.

“Don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking.” Koz got up, shook off his clothes, and from behind him, a darker, more eerie, pale, slender arm that looked completely contradictory crawled out.

However, the arm that held a piece of bread whose cooking skills were barely passable, with little aroma, was placed in front of Guilliman.

"Let's eat first, it's Anglong's cooking."

Guilliman instinctively opened his mouth, only to have it stuffed full.

It wasn't bad, it just had no flavor.

When did Angron ever have the mood to learn cooking? Even if he were to learn to cook, the Primarch's wisdom wouldn't be capable of producing this level of "garbage".

Kurtz simply smiled and gestured for Guilliman to rest later, as he wanted to face his father alone.

The emperor's expression shifted between anger and uncertainty, as he hesitated between slapping him again or kicking him.

These kids are all a handful.

"Dispel your psionic illusions, Conrad. Don't make me do it myself."

The elderly father, tormented by the challenges of raising his mentally ill son, had no choice but to issue a warning.

Koz remained unmoved, and the "pitch black" pale shadow behind him grew even more solid.

He stopped, looked up at his father's face, and said loudly:

“This is what Makado said, the way to let me control the power you gave me. This bread and flesh are all gifts from him.”

“You know, Father, Aaron—”

He uttered the name, and the next moment, the Emperor's uppercut was already at Koz's chin, sending the Primarch flying high into the air. Then, the Emperor himself stomped the ground and reached out, his violent psionic energy binding Koz back into his grasp.

The wandering spirits behind Coz were also on the verge of collapse.

"Cough, cough cough—"

Koz's face turned red, and he struggled to break free.

Enraged, Guilliman, who had just finished swallowing his bread, rushed forward, grabbed his father's waist, and tried to throw the emperor to the ground.

"Twenty more wouldn't be enough!"

“I told Aaron this myself!”

The Emperor seemed more irrational than usual, grinning as he reached out and lifted Guilliman up as well. His two sons were like puppets, manipulated and held in his hands.

Koz's eyes gradually turned bloodshot, whether from bloodshot eyes or psychic energy, it was hard to tell.

He watched his father's face gradually descend into madness, then burst into a satisfied laugh:

"That's it, Father. This is what I've inherited."

The Emperor brought his hands together, and with a thud, Guilliman and Coz's heads collided.

The two were completely powerless to fight back.

The Emperor's expression had returned to calm as he placed one foot on Koz's nearly shattered, ghostly arm:

“But I can control myself. I am who I am. I am better than all of you. You inherited everything from me, yet you struggle to control it. Conrad, you can’t even make your wandering soul become one with yourself.”

Guilliman, listening from the side, was somewhat confused.

What does this have to do with Aaron? Aaron? That name sounds familiar, Katherine's fiancé?

Furthermore, according to their father, they each inherited a portion of his abilities and even his personality.

The father's ferocious grin just now corresponds to the myna bird's characteristics.

Doesn't that mean all our problems are caused by you, you old geezer?

Guilliman struggled to his feet and lunged at the Emperor's leg.