Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Anglong turned around and saw an old man patting a large wooden rake in his hand, trying to drive him away.

Angron quickly jumped away, leaping a few steps off the field while apologizing repeatedly.

"Whose child is this? I've never seen him before. His skin is so fair, unlike ours."

Upon seeing Anglong's face, the old man's movements softened. He gripped the wooden rake tightly in his hand, his expression filled with suspicion as he circled around Anglong, scrutinizing him.

They had never seen such a fair-skinned child before. The locals of Barbarossa lived in harsh conditions from birth, and they were embarrassed to go out in public if their skin wasn't wrinkled.

"What's your name, sir? My name is Angron Will."

The old man looked around a few times and, realizing that Angron was neither a monster nor one of those warlords' children, he nervously spoke up:

“Zed, this is it, just call it that.”

After all, even the children of those warlords wouldn't have such fair and tender skin.

It looks delicious!

Zeder swallowed hard, startling Angron, who slowly backed away.

"Uncle Zede, are you... eating people?"

Realizing his lapse in composure, Zede wiped his mouth before setting aside the wooden rake in his hand and hurriedly explained:

"No, no, we won't eat it. In this place, even dead people are considered poisonous. We'll be grateful if we can find anything edible."

“By the way, where did you come from, kid? Did you fall from the sky too? — Yes, yes, I should have guessed. Mortarian, that kid’s skin is similar to yours. Although he’s had his share of troubles, he’s much better off than us locals.”

Zedd had an epiphany, recalling the few people they had met who were much healthier than the indigenous people themselves.

“Motalian? I don’t know him, but the person hanging on the shelf is my uncle, named Helios. Can you take him down? I’ll find another person who can glow to trade with you.”

Taking advantage of Zede's distraction, Angron asked in a childish voice, pointing to the "artificial sun" above.

Upon hearing this, Zeder suddenly realized that Little An, Mortarian, and Lord Helios all came from the same place. He chuckled and explained:

"No wonder, you must be Mortarion's brother."

“It was because Lord Helios was considerate that we didn’t have enough time to dry the grain. When we needed to rest at night, he tied him up there and slept there. I’ll wake him up now.”

The old man climbed onto the scaffold, raised his wooden rake, reached for Helios's waist, and struck him a few times.

"Sir, your nephew has come to see you."

Helios was knocked several times before he woke up. His eyes were still blurry and he was already talking in a daze.

"Xiao Mo has finally accepted me as his uncle, instead of using me as a lamp. Quick, quick, pull me up."

Zede began to turn the mechanism on the wooden frame, slowly lowering the sun. Helios, too lazy to untie the ropes, simply dragged it along, looking around.

"Where is Little Mo? Where is my good nephew?"

Zeder gestured for Helios to look down, and said with a forced smile:

“It’s not Mortarion, it’s Angron. He’s also the master’s nephew. You can tell from his skin that he’s from the same place as the master.”

Then he saw Helios rubbing his eyes, and after recognizing that the nephew in front of him was Anglon, he was so frightened that he turned around and climbed back onto the wooden frame.

"It's you! Where's Xiao Mo? Where's my nephew Xiao Mo?!"

Like Apollo, he had a psychological fear of Angron.

Angron skipped and hopped over; the Primarch was fast enough to leap into Helios's arms in a few steps, pinning him to the ground and kissing him twice.

"Long time no see, Uncle Helios, I've missed you so much!"

Chapter 396 Xiao Mo, Take Off Your Mask and Let Me See (3K)

"Ahhh!"

Helios let out a deafening roar, his face turned bright gold, and his eyes became pure sunstones, about to burst out of their sockets.

His psychic powers must remain constantly activated in this polluted world called Barbarus in order to avoid physical harm.

Being held in Angron's arms felt like watching some blood-red, grotesque, twisted being laughing at him, its gaping maw trying to kiss his face—it was terrifying!

"Uncle, Uncle, if you don't say anything, I'm going to keep kissing you."

Angron chuckled, his menacing maw terrifying Helios.

This isn't a kiss, it's like they're trying to bite your head off.

"No, no, no! Good nephew, good nephew, don't scare your uncle!"

Helios hurriedly put his hands in front of him and lifted Angron up.

That's more like it. As long as the two of them, uncle and nephew, treat each other with respect, Anglong will be a good boy. His physical age is only about four years old, which is not old enough to be held in someone's arms.

Of course, it is not advisable for two or three-year-olds to climb chimneys; this is a bad habit of the Adachi family.

"Uncle, it's so shiny and powerful!"

Angron reached out and pinched Helios's face. His golden skin and bone structure looked like a dessert, and he really wanted to take a bite to see what it tasted like.

This yearning for delicious food was not malicious in any way, but Helios saw it and was still wary.

"Zed, go find Xiao Mo for me. If Xiao An is here, then I guess their older brother is here too, and right next to Xiao Mo."

Helios forced his head away; the sight of holding a bomb in his arms was not pleasant, and he needed to see Aaron Well immediately to calm his fear.

As long as Aaron is there, and that child is there, all problems will be solved!

Zede put his hat on and turned it forward to cover his eyes.

Having a real sun god shining brightly before them was something that people who lived in dim environments could hardly adapt to.

Once his eyes felt a little better, Zede awkwardly spoke:

"Motalian went to gather the traveling merchants in the southern part of the valley, hoping they could provide him with support. There is a warlord in the upper reaches of the valley who controls the water source and exploits people even though the river is filthy."

"If we can use the traveling merchants' teams to infiltrate the warlord's fortress, we can break through it from within."

As Zeder finished speaking, Helios became somewhat proud and said smugly:

"Then throw me into the source of the river, hehe, and even the river water will be purified."

He pointed to the sky with one finger:

"I want this sky to never again be able to block out the sun!"

Hey, this uncle is really funny. He looks really tough when he's showing off, but when it comes to fighting, he can't beat anyone.

Angron climbed onto his uncle's shoulder and, like a guiding statue at the front of a pirate ship, stretched out his hand, echoing:

"Then let's go to the valley now, I need to find my brother!"

Seeing this, Zede whispered, "It takes two days to get to the valley, and Lord Helios is not good at traveling; his physical condition is not as good as ours as that of us local farmers. You should rest here; Mortarion will come back once he has made progress."

Angron reached out and slid off Helios, then with a shout, he actually lifted his uncle by the leg and hoisted him up.

Because of his height, Helios's head and feet inevitably bumped into the ground, and he had to carefully lift them up.

"Tell me the directions, and I'll run there."

Having roamed the wild environment surrounding Macedonia for a long time, Angron's pace was vastly different from that of ordinary people.

Zede instinctively pointed towards the lower reaches of the valley and saw the child carrying the sun and sprinting. In just a moment, he had reached the far distance, so much so that the sun was dragged out with a tail of light.

Sigh, it seems that people who fall from the sky are really something else.

In the lower reaches of the valley plain, there is an alluvial island, where the trading post of Angus is located.

During river transport, sediments from the upstream valleys were continuously moved, and over tens of thousands of years, they accumulated to form this toxic island.

Because apart from the bottom layer of sand, the sediments transported down by rivers over the last four thousand years are all toxic substances.

Whether it's waste that they can't understand, that won't degrade naturally, and that keeps emitting toxic substances, or research waste that occupies the strongholds of warlords upstream.

These devices, which flowed down the river, eventually became the outermost layer of protection for Angus, so the warlords didn't need to touch a junkyard.

Besides, the island doesn't block the river. When the toilet isn't clogged, who would think of cleaning the sewer pipes?

Aaron lay there on the outskirts of Angus, in a broken metal can that emitted a dark, poisonous fumes on the edge of this garbage island.

Honestly, it smells pretty bad.

My father once mentioned that if we were to design and test poison gas weapons, it would be best to establish a stable and natural living environment.

The experimental target, after a day of repetitive work, suddenly disappeared one day after taking a shower.

The toxic gas must not be irritating, otherwise it will be easily noticed by others. Ideally, it should be colorless and odorless.

While the old man was rambling on and on, Aaron really wanted to grab a pillow and smother the old devil to death.

Where did you learn all this knowledge from?!

Barbalus's environment is more like a world created to instill a stereotypical image of a toxic atmosphere in people, a world Aaron recalls from the many "homes" his brothers have seen.

The whole world is based on a stereotype, which is really abnormal. Is this a world that can be manipulated and created by some force?

After all, even in my own hometown, a small Mediterranean coast, despite the popularity of Athenian culture, the surrounding areas were only influenced by it. They adopted the good aspects and discarded the bad ones, each region having its own unique characteristics.

Aaron took a deep breath, imagining his body to be indestructible, pushed aside the cracks in the broken metal sheet in front of him, and climbed out of the can.

Looking around, there wasn't much filth in the living environment; what was more common were these toxic devices of unknown purpose, piled up and deposited in sewage, emitting a dark brown grease.

Further away, the surface of the river was a slightly lighter shade, a dark green, which still gave the impression of danger, making it undrinkable and untouchable.

Aaron was about to turn around and head towards the camp on the garbage island when he suddenly stopped.

Just now, a huge farming sickle was pressed against his neck; if he had moved any further, his head would have been severed.

Of course, it's more likely to turn into a bunch of bubbles and dissipate.

"Snemo's spy? Strange, your body is so weak, your breathing and heartbeat can't withstand the pressure of being in poison gas, yet you can still move?"

Aaron could only strain his eyes to look up. The tall young man, wearing a half-cloak and with the lower half of his face covered, revealing only his pale forehead and eyes, was scrutinizing his presence.

His neck was wrapped with clean bandages, followed by clothes made of somewhat rough linen, which fit him fairly well and were clean.

Besides his extraordinary height, what is most striking is the enormous scythe in his hand.

This is by no means a weapon of war, because the most convenient weapons on the battlefield are still the sword and the shield, while the sickle has always been used for agriculture.

Even the handle of this sickle is a staggered vertical design, rather than using the wooden handle directly as the handle.