Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

He would side with the Blood Angels to see what kind of enemy could cause suffering to the angels who were previously known as ghouls.

Some dishes had already been served, and the kitchen was bustling with activity, making a lot of noise, but it wasn't messy or chaotic, and you wouldn't think that the pots and pans inside had been smashed to pieces.

It's more like a well-functioning, highly efficient machine.

The bowl contained hot soup and unidentified chunks of meat, along with strange, unprocessed shapes that resembled alien features that Astartes should have eliminated with his chainsaw sword.

Omega was the first to pick up a bowl. Spartacus wasn't entirely stupid; at least he knew that having a bowl adapted to the Astartes' size was a good thing for the Primarch.

It can't be just a spoonful.

These bowls are all made of metal, so the worry is less about them breaking when dropped and more about Astartes smashing them on a whim.

"The taste is a bit—"

Omega wanted to comment, but when he looked around, he found that apart from Aaron, everyone else was drinking the food as if they were tasting the finest delicacies.

Is it really that fragrant?

He looked at his elder brother and transmitted his voice using psychic energy:

"Angron can make flavorful food now?"

Aaron shook his head. He had just had a bowl himself, and he felt that the soup was really hot and warmed his stomach, and the meat was truly delicious.

While it wasn't to the point of being inedible, it certainly wasn't considered gourmet food.

Could this be a delicacy that only a World Devourer could perceive?

Aaron speculated that this was because there was a genetic connection between Angron and the World Eaters, which allowed the World Eaters to regard him as their father.

It is possible that their diet played a role on a level unknown to them, stimulating Astartes' sense of taste.

These scenarios could not possibly be faked; they cannot be fabricated.

After consuming these meals, many Devourers felt refreshed and their power surged continuously, making them eager to rejoin the battlefield.

Even if this is just a temporary boost, it is still a rare improvement in combat power for Astartes.

After all, aside from their combat experience, their basic stats are pretty much the same, and it's not time for those monsters, evil gods, and champions to make their appearance yet.

Those tough guys usually don't wear helmets when they fight, and they have impressive reputations. They are exceptions among many legions and are not worth comparing.

If a means were to emerge that could broadly amplify the combat power of an entire legion, even if it were just a one percent increase in the combat strength of each individual, it would be enough to make them invincible in battle and achieve even greater results than before.

Omega immediately began to consider whether the hot soup could be canned or whether it had to be drunk while still hot.

Is it acceptable to use anything produced by the kitchen staff, or is it necessary for Xiao An to be present?

After all, not all of the food made today was cooked by Xiao An; many were prepared by Astartes from the cooking team using the same techniques.

He needs to figure this out; perhaps he'll have a chance to discover the many wonderful uses of the Primarch's buffs to Astartes.

It's not necessary for the Primarch to be physically present on the front lines; the corresponding Astartes can still receive a boost.

Kahn kept a wary eye on Aaron, and even after finishing his meal, he quickly suppressed his excitement and continued:

“Father, if the connections between the legions are becoming closer, then there are already soldiers from other legions stationed within our legion for a long time. But they don’t have much official business with us; it’s more like a personal trial.”

Omega asked, "Sigismund? I've heard of him. The Imperial Fist has never lost a match in our internal arena."

"I don't know what Dorn was thinking, letting such a talented person be left out in the world."

Aaron chuckled, “It’s not necessarily Dorn’s fault. Perhaps Sigismund didn’t make things clear with Dorn. He might still hold a position within the Imperial Fist, but he just forgot to be called back during this business trip.”

Kahn was somewhat displeased with Aaron's casual comments about Sigismund, but given his father's presence, he couldn't say much and could only say:

"Sigismund is a noble warrior. Even I can only fight him to a draw. I believe he will become a bridge for the Devourer of Worlds and the Fist of the Empire to establish a solid connection."

The Imperial Fist largely supports Perturabo; judging from his father's appearance, even the World Eaters are starting to take sides.

Hopefully, this isn't a wrong choice.

Or perhaps—he looked at the bowl in his hand.

If the Iron Warriors lose in the future, can you explain to the victors that we were just cooks and did some cooking?

Kahn couldn't help but laugh at his own thought, and quickly took another sip, licking the bottom of the bowl clean as a way to cover up his embarrassment.

A short while later, Spartacus quickly appeared, approached Omega, and whispered:

"Father, we have prepared too much food. There is enough for each of the brothers present, and there are still some left over. Can the rest be distributed to the army outside?" The young father said yes.

Omega nodded and said, "Listen to him, he is Angron."

Spartacus was overjoyed, even more so than if he had received praise from the Primarch or His Majesty.

After all, Xiao An genuinely praised their abilities inside, while Da An, being older, needed to uphold the prestige of the legion's leader and wouldn't be so open.

He was secretly delighted, but no one knew that just a wall away in the kitchen, the Primarch had already praised them to the skies.

She would even be carried on Xiao An's shoulders or arms, receiving personal guidance on the essentials of cooking.

Ah, the Primarch is so small—

I really want to keep him in my arms and protect him for the rest of my life.

Which Astartes has had such an experience? Even His Majesty might not have had the experience of raising a child!

Unfortunately, good times are always short-lived. As the cooks excitedly went out to distribute hot soup to the mortal army, Aaron felt a little sleepy, and it was time to leave this expedition.

He carried Angron and said goodbye to everyone. Omega didn't react much, but many World Eaters felt a nameless anger rising in their hearts as they watched little Angron lying in someone else's arms.

In order not to provoke the emotions of these World Eaters, Aaron did not choose a more drastic method of retreat, but instead dissipated naturally.

If the World Eaters saw me carrying Angron as I jumped into the cannon barrel and was launched, there would definitely be a huge riot.

At that moment, Sigismund was on his way when he heard the news that the Eighth Company was to prepare for departure that very night. Kahn's order was issued very quickly.

After arriving at the ground base, he rubbed his eyes and asked, "What did I see, Your Majesty?"

Are the World Eaters slaughtering mortal armies? No, wait, what are those huge bowls they're holding for?

Is the food in there delicious? The mortals look quite tormented.

When he saw the chef's apron on Spartacus, who was in the lead—

Sigh! When did you guys start working as cooks?!

Chapter 434 The Black Sanctuary: So the Cross is a Sacred Symbol (3K)

When Sigismund found Kahn, Omega had just left.

The Eighth Company was quickly tidying up, and when Kahn saw him, he didn't say a word, just staring blankly at a bowl.

He reached out and patted Astartes, whom he hadn't actually met many times, and whose matches he had only drawn a few times:

“I have never seen an Astartes pause in thought. If you were on the battlefield, it would be enough for the enemy to cut off your head.”

He reached out to grab the bowl from Kahn's hand, but found it wouldn't budge.

With the combined strength of the two people, the bowl would shatter upon exertion, yet it has managed to maintain its intact shape.

He knew that this was yet another contest of skills!

So Kahn was playing this trick on him.

Sigismund's expression gradually turned solemn, and he focused his muscles to channel his power.

If he were to wield a sword, then no matter where the blade struck the enemy, it would unleash terrifying destructive power, preventing his sword from becoming a springboard for the enemy's strength.

This seems to be what is called a fighting technique, which ordinary people need to train tirelessly to master even a little bit of.

The Astartes themselves possess this skill, and Sigismund even considers himself the champion who has perfected it.

Even if Abaddon of Shadowmoon Wolf came to fight me, he might not be my match.

However, Sigismund sometimes found it somewhat laughable that his battle brothers were roaming the stars while he had to wield a sword and fight.

They were still fighting over a bowl with Kahn.

Alas, I wonder what fate has brought upon them. Perhaps one day their emperor will encounter his most formidable opponent and will have no choice but to take up his sword and strike.

Instead of standing far away and unleashing all sorts of planet-destroying weapons at us.

That might just be a sword!

Sigismund's eyes grew increasingly vacant as he gained some insight from the bowl in front of him, but he also reached a point where he could completely control his own body.

Even if some powerful claw were to rip him through the heart, it wouldn't stop Sigismund from swinging his weapon as if nothing could stop him, striking the enemy's vitals.

Sigismund's previous perception of his own strength stemmed from what he believed to be his constantly honed skills.

At this point, one ascends to a higher level, gaining insight into the strongest mindset surrounding the goal of "defeating the enemy."

How lucky! I never expected that I could advance in rank because of a bowl.

Kahn, are you looking down at this bowl because you're experiencing this state of mind?

Sigismund finally exerted his strength, his fingers subtly moving to open Kahn's palm and take the bowl into his hand.

He won once.

It was spotless inside, with no food scraps or smells.

A bowl cleaned by Astartes' tongue is no different from one cleaned with disinfectant.

They even had to be careful not to break the bowl with their tongues.

"There's nothing here, isn't there? Kahn, Kahn?"

He patted Kahn on the shoulder again, and the latter snapped out of his daze and snatched the bowl back.

This is a Legion relic!

"We are heading to a new war zone. If you want to come with us, you can come with me, or you can stay with our Primarch. He already knows of your existence and is happy to arrange a good position for you."

Kahn took the bowl back and treasured it carefully, making a special place in the slot for his portable cartridge to hold it.

It must be said that the caliber of this bowl is about the same as that of a tank cannon barrel.

Sigismund wasn't bothered; the bowl held no real significance for him anyway.

Unless it was the same material Dorne used to build the walls of Terra.

He smiled and said: