Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Now their helmets are strapped to their waists.

Several months ago, the entire team crashed into a combat moon. The Primarch was the ultimate victor, but he was the only survivor.

“Orcs—” Ryan murmured the name, which he didn’t remember well, but Horus would remember it vividly.

Ryan doesn't often recall the enemies he's encountered, as it brings back unpleasant memories.

Sigh, it seems I have to go back to the forest again. I wonder how long I can travel this time, and where I will end up.

It seems we'll never get our hands on this sacred relic.

Hopefully, Guilliman can find another way to establish a stable channel across the Great Rift.

Even in the dark side of the Empire, one can find a way to survive in the darkness without the guidance of the Star Torch.

Humans, oh...

Ryan gave a wry smile, opened his arms and faced the sky, preparing to enter a meditative state.

But the Primarch's eyes seemed to have caught sight of some ship descending from outer orbit, and the next moment, the tired old lion's eyes turned fiery and fierce.

He held his greatsword steady and assumed a defensive stance.

Those were small ships belonging to the Eldar race. Ryan felt his eyesight was failing him; he couldn't immediately determine whether they belonged to the Dark Eldar or some other random category.

As he himself felt, Ryan was getting old.

He needed to readjust to many things. Ten thousand years ago, he would have been very knowledgeable about solving these alien problems.

It's ridiculous that we're now hesitant.

Then let's fight! For better or for worse, only the victors will have the right to remain standing here.

Ryan is past the age of shouting battle cries before a fight; unless Ruth stands in front of him, he will simply end the fight without saying a word.

But fortunately, perhaps we won't have to fight anymore.

These ships stopped at a certain height at a distance and then ceased moving forward, indicating an attempt to communicate.

Before long, a few individual landing craft were released from the mother ship and stopped a few hundred meters away.

Several tall spirits emerged, thankfully their attire concealed anything strange or unusual.

The Dark Eldar, in their pursuit of pleasing Slaanesh, surpassed even their ancestors' unbridled indulgence in bodily desires.

At least these bean sprouts in front of us look somewhat acceptable from a human perspective.

Ryan didn't want to use the word "aesthetics" or to generalize human aesthetics based on his own will. As long as someone didn't scare people at first glance, he thought they looked alright.

Damn it, he really is getting old. With a formidable enemy at hand, his thoughts are so scattered.

What if it's a disguise?

Never mind, let's strike first!

Ryan charged forward, still considered one of the most powerful warriors in the universe.

However, to his despair, the spirit race members in front of him were kneeling on the ground.

This completely caught Ryan off guard.

He couldn't help but think of Dante's explanation of the current state of the empire.

The most important information is:

Guilliman awakens with the help of the Eldar.

What are these pointy-eared people up to?

Ryan stopped, holding his sword horizontally in front of him:

"You vile aliens, how dare you stand in the way of the First Legion's leader!"

The visitor simply presented a piece of cloth, embroidered on a classic Macura blue background, the kind usually used to decorate the Ultramarines' banners.

Ten thousand years ago, when most legions were proud of everything they came from Terra, only the Ultramarines were incredibly proud of their homeland.

Many Terran veterans, upon arriving in Makula, made no attempt to hide their praise for this second home, making numerous statements that would sound insane to the modern Terran authorities.

"You once considered yourselves a noble and beautiful race, but now you're holding onto what you see as mere monkeys' cloth?"

Ryan relaxed a bit; these few people posed no threat to him, and he still had a chance to say some joking things.

"What, you actually kneel before humans?"

The visitor finally spoke:

"Savior, first son of the Lord of Mankind, you have survived endless fate to this day, and a greater mission awaits you."

"Please meet with our leaders to discuss how to destroy the Chaos God."

Ryan merely smirked, then swung his greatsword horizontally, sweeping the people in front of him to either side.

He completely ignored these bastards, thinking they might have some valuable intelligence, such as fragments of the Eldar's remaining network.

Ryan chuckled and shook his head, then walked away from the path he had cleared.

"You know what? I'm the last person who believes in prophecies or fate. But everyone keeps bothering me with this."

He vented his frustration by jumping onto the Eldar landing craft, not to fly to the mothership, but because he needed a means of transportation.

To the horrified eyes of the Eldar, the Primarch had almost single-handedly taken control of their ship, leaving them stranded on the battlefield, their only remaining traces of jet streams.

"Yes, the first child of the Lord of Mankind, the savior of all destinies, the Messiah."

"The Destroyer of Chaos Gods—"

"No fate can bind him; what he said is indeed true!"

"Please spread the word far and wide, inform all your fellow countrymen who can be united, that Ryan Al Johnson is the savior of the world!"

These delirious Eldar spread their cries, perhaps simply to put their inner expectations into reality as quickly as possible.

They made this judgment without even informing Evelyn.

"So what do we do now? We initially thought it was Guilliman. But now it seems the First Primarch is the chosen one."

The Eldar whispered among themselves.

“It’s alright. We can communicate with humans through Number Thirteen. If we offer them suitable benefits, they will cooperate with us. Then, through Number Thirteen, we can contact the Primarch.”

"It has always been this way throughout history; there must always be something between mortals and gods that allows them to communicate."

Poor Guilliman was unaware that he was being used as a medium to communicate with the gods. If he had known, he would have only thought that he could save time and make plans accordingly.

But if he were to lay out these plans on the table and go to Ryan, he would most likely only get a spit in his mouth, or a bear hug, with Ryan pinching his cheek and mocking him:

Poor Guilliman was completely fooled by the alien; even Ruth wouldn't have been fooled like that.

The Eldar were not optimistic that their first contact with Ryan would yield any results; they had already anticipated the previous failures.

But it seems the old lion isn't stopping them from following him; at least they haven't crossed his line yet.

What else can we do? Just follow behind and watch.

One of my companions suddenly raised a point of view:

"Before I was assigned to this mission, I learned a lot about the monkeys—cough cough, I learned a lot about the human records of the First Legion. The First Primarch would have many servants in green robes around him."

“We can dress up like this; although we're a bit taller, it will help us conceal the differences between us and humans.”

Some people also suggested:

“If we don’t hide our identities, we can also find the nearest traveling merchants. Based on our previous deductions, the Savior is searching for something with the traveling merchants.”

"But once you join a faction, things will inevitably become inconvenient. What should you do then?"

“Don’t worry, I know a few connections. We’ll set off now. There’s a newly formed small fleet called the Relian. Their dynasty has collapsed, and all they have left is a contract that represents their identity. That’s their most valuable asset. If we go there now, we can be called original shareholders, and we can get some decision-making power.”

These Eldar, in their quest to save the world, studied human history, and over time developed the idea of ​​making jokes using human thought processes, resulting in a seemingly random statement:

"If that little guy's merchant ronin contract was issued by a human war commander, hahaha—sorry, after understanding the human thought process, this is really quite funny."

Following this line of thought, a member of the Eldar race uttered a joke that had been circulating in another world for a long time:

"Hey, humans find the revelation of this identity issue a humorous point. So, if one day the universe is destroyed, could the safest place for us be inside the belly of the Lord of Pleasure?"

All his companions turned their gazes toward him, some even fearing he had been corrupted and contemplating killing him.

"Sorry, bro, this isn't funny at all."

Macedonia, 600 BC.

Aside from the new king's coronation ceremony, which is certainly entertaining, the fishing competition that the country is about to hold is of paramount importance to Anda.

This competition wasn't something he begged and pleaded for, nor was it something Erda organized in the name of the temple. Or perhaps he forced the king to participate by having his son act as the king's savior.

Rather, it is a long-standing tradition in Macedonia.

Before winter fully arrives, fishing is used to determine the breeding and migration cycles of species in nearby rivers.

This helps people quickly find the harvest that can still be collected when winter arrives.

The environment here is somewhat awkward; in winter, it doesn't reach the point where the rivers are completely frozen over.

If you absolutely have to look for something in the water, you have to plan ahead, otherwise you'll just find nothing but the cold river water.

All of these reasons are official explanations that Adachi himself gathered; he doesn't know if this was true before.

Anyway, starting today, this is a historical event.

According to the old man's own description, this method is called "the history book of time".

It differs somewhat from the Spring and Autumn Annals style of writing.

Even Aaron, growing increasingly curious about these things, wanted the old man to tell him more, but the guy just smiled mysteriously.

"You'll know when you have time to go and see for yourself. Do you want me to tell you more about the fun things to come?"

"Hahaha!" Anda laughed wildly, "Beg me! Beg me and I'll tell you!"

The old man stood in the yard with his hands on his hips, laughing loudly. Aaron was so frightened that he quickly brought Anglon into the house. Good things are hard to learn, but bad things are easy to pick up and spread.

If Aaron were to wake up one day to find his little brother standing in the yard, laughing heartily with his hands on his hips, not wearing a diaper, and looking up at the sky, Aaron would be furious.

Almost half a month has passed since the myth of the sun god saving the world, and the people of Macedonia are a forgetful national group.

They don't believe their country will become a pile of shit; that's simply not true.