Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Is it a physical body prepared for the God of Reality?

"It looks something like this? It's so big! In fact, it's bigger than the entire Aegean Sea in my hometown."

Poseidon was simultaneously communicating with Magnus and drew the beast based on Magnus's description, and it was indeed exactly the same.

The student is in a good mood today because he won his bet with Loga.

Seeing the teacher's paintings in this video only fueled my doubts, and I asked:

"This is all the information we have so far. The drawings are so similar. Teacher, please tell us honestly, did you do it?"

It's no wonder Magnus was suspicious, because Poseidon also had an undisguised dream; his quirks were unique, but at least they didn't harm anyone.

However, after arriving in this era, I have been trying to create a perfect partner, preferably one that can achieve all the temperature, density and even physical form.

They even went so far as to seek out the Steel Heart, which was building a factory in Prospero, hoping to use their industrial technology to create such robots.

After all, industrial materials can be shaped and defined at will, but you can't just take a leg from one place and an arm from another, piece them together, and use them as a living organism.

"Look at what you're saying. When I was sent to this era, my original era didn't even have biotechnology. That Mendel guy your dad was talking about, who was into peas, hadn't even been born yet."

Poseidon denied it with a serious expression, then, with great confidence, said firmly:

"As for why I was able to draw such an image in one go, it's naturally because your description was accurate enough, and I did have the idea of ​​piecing together living things before, and I thought about many forms in my mind. But in the end, I gave up and turned to pursuing machines made of industrial materials. I'm not going to turn back the clock. What's the use of perfect living things? Machines are better, with one-click adjustments."

Hearing his teacher say that, Magnus had no choice but to give up.

Perhaps it was just that the older generation had exchanged their ideas back then, and then that shameless father stole the teacher's design when creating the beast.

That makes sense.

It's just that we don't yet know what Angron represents in all of this.

Was it because the father obtained the Primarch beforehand and used Angron as a test subject, thus conducting research on the Primarch's physical body ahead of time, which ultimately led to the creation of the Beast?

Wait, could the beast be Angron twisted into this form?

Magnus suddenly panicked at his own idea, hastily disconnecting from Poseidon and instead calling Dorn and Omega.

Unfortunately, Dorn cannot communicate freely like these advanced psionicists; he needs a Star Speaker to connect.

A top-secret message was sent in:

"Immediately take a World Eater to the Beast and observe its changing characteristics. We cannot rule out the terrible risk that Angron has been transformed into a beast!"

Poseidon's being ruthlessly hung up on by the student only proved his innocence, thus rendering him worthless in the student's eyes.

Since studying beasts was pointless, Poseidon could only continue to spend his retirement years alone.

He was about to take a nap when he turned his head and saw the wild beast he had drawn, and a sudden anger rose in his heart.

Such a vast and wild existence, yet its aquatic species possess the beauty characteristic of all living things.

I certainly wouldn't make one that big myself, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to have the Iron Heart Factory create a bionic animal doll according to this shape standard!

Tanyus made a beast of flesh, but I, Poseidon, cannot make a beast of iron?

I, the sea god, have never been inferior to the gods in my lifetime!

Chapter 474 Heading to the Old Man's Hometown, to Grandfather's Grave? (3K)

When Aaron woke up, it was already noon. Anglon had cooked breakfast to prevent Anda, who had been working hard for so long, from starving to death.

The old man brought over the leftovers from breakfast, thankfully reheated, and placed them in front of Aaron's bed. He gave them a cold shoulder and said:

"Eat quickly, and we'll leave right away while the temperature is still high at noon. Your mother won't come to see us off, so she won't miss me and want me to stay another night."

Anda's actions and tone were like feeding the pigs at home.

Aaron got up to eat; since it was homemade, he didn't mind.

When it was just the two of them at home, it was common for them to cook breakfast and eat it in the evening. He asked:

"Where are we going? I heard it's your hometown?"

When the old man heard the word "hometown," a look of longing and nostalgia welled up in his dark pupils.

“Ah, my homeland, I have been separated from you for who knows how many years. The current king should be Nebuchadnezzar II, whose father was the king of the Chaldea, who formed an unbreakable alliance, overthrew the Assyrian Empire, and re-established Babylon.”

"Therefore, it can now also be called the Chaldean Empire, but this is a confusing statement."

The old man spoke slowly, and regardless of how he knew this knowledge, Aaron could at least see a long-lost humanity in his father's expression when he described his hometown.

There is probably no human being who doesn't miss their hometown.

Aaron then asked, "Why don't we go with the other uncles who are heading east?"

Anda simply picked up Aaron's empty plate and said disdainfully, "Would you pretend to be a good son and take care of me when you're with them? No, you'd only be worse. I don't need them to think you're an unfilial son; let them have a beautiful filter over you."

That sounds so strange. You're clearly worried that your uncles will find out your son isn't treating you well either, which would make you even more embarrassed.

What does this have to do with how my uncles perceive me?

Aaron didn't bother to explain. He got up, washed up, and packed his luggage, only to find that Marum and Xiao An had already finished packing most of their things.

The old man just took the plate away and then went to wash it himself; it's like the sun has risen in the west.

"A donkey cart, a reclining chair, and Sigma are enough. I don't have much stuff. Xiao An just needs a pot. The rest is your luggage. Look at you, Aaron, you have the most stuff in the house."

The old man scolded as he washed the dishes, and he seemed to genuinely believe it.

Aaron didn't want to argue; he just planned to find some ropes to make a net under the donkey cart where the old man was lying when they set off today, turning it into a hanging ticket.

Marum stepped forward and explained, “There’s still a lot of luggage on the ray. I set it to autopilot, and it will follow us to the nearest suitable body of water.”

"I will go get it if needed."

Aaron asked curiously, "When a ray is sailing on its own, if it is spotted by people at sea, will it be considered some kind of sea monster?"

The old man had a habit of leaving behind artifacts that would confuse later archaeologists, and Aaron had inherited this perverse sense of humor, though he was unaware of it yet.

Marum pondered, “I’ve considered setting a cruising depth that people of this era generally wouldn’t be able to reach. Unless they can find our submarine hidden beneath the Aegean Sea.”

Xiao An didn't have so many considerations. He wasn't interested in topics like "unsolved mysteries" in the course of history and civilization, and was only busy confirming his recipe.

After a struggle between Xiao An and his son Anda, the blank encyclopedia they obtained from Aaron was decided to be split in two.

Half of his old man's notebook was used to record people or places that annoyed him.

The other half became Xiao An's recipe, which Xiao An found very useful.

However, this comes at a price: he has to help his father record bad things that happen in a bad place every day, and he also has to think of very vicious ways to get revenge.

Only after I finish writing for my father can I write for him.

One thing and one recipe per person per day.

Anda's story would take two or three pages to write, while Angron's story only takes one page. In the end, the old man naturally benefits more.

Alas, although Aaron was quite pleased with Angron's intelligence—that he could write and organize sentences to record things without much formal education.

But when it comes to making someone suffer a loss, he still can't beat the old man.

By afternoon, the family had tidied up. Aaron watched as his father finished cleaning the kitchen and finally closed the door. In an instant, he transformed from a warm and caring family man into a disheveled old man, quickly hopping onto the donkey cart and finding his familiar lying position.

“Ah—how wonderful! I can sleep all the way to Babylon. We’ll travel for months and even see King Nebuchadnezzar building gardens for his queen.”

Aaron couldn't bear to see the old man so comfortable, so he placed Angron in his arms and then squeezed in himself.

There's no need to worry about the spaciousness and quality of the donkey cart; it was built by myself and Marum. You can pull up the tarpaulin from the luggage to turn it into a tent, so you don't have to worry about freezing to death on the road.

As for the question of whether he would get lost, there was no need to worry. Aaron vaguely remembered seeing various maps at the home of his senior brother in Macedonia, whose family owned a caravan. He had glanced at them all, from simple line drawings to detailed maps hanging in luxurious tents.

In addition, the general direction was good, and they would encounter many city-states along the way, enough for them to arrive smoothly.

"Dad, what's so interesting about the garden the king builds for the queen? It should be the king finding the best food in the world for the queen."

After finishing writing down one of the things his father held a grudge about, Anglong began drawing his own recipe.

In his view, it's meaningless to waste money and resources building a landscape; what's valuable is finding the best food in the world and sending it over.

Anda leaned against the spread-out blanket, picking his nose:

"Yes, yes, the rulers of the country have all sorts of things, like playing with fire and searching for food for their concubines. But this garden is really extraordinary; it will be called the Hanging Gardens from now on."

"However, given the current level of industrial development, that garden is probably just a small one, so it's not important. I'll take you two to see your grandfather's grave. He was unlucky; he didn't get to see his daughter-in-law or his grandson. Oh wait, Erda did meet my grandfather's grandfather."

Anda still longed to witness history unfold and see if the Hanging Gardens, one of the wonders of the ancient world, truly existed.

Whether it was built with the assistance of wild psionicists.

Of course, if you go there and find it's just a small earthen slope with a few trees and flowers planted on it, without even a fountain, then forget about it.

No, we can't just leave it at that.

It's important to understand that the same information will inevitably be processed during its transmission. Just find a group of eloquent people and have them describe the garden landscape.

After decades or even hundreds or thousands of years of dissemination, books will be written and established, becoming a typical "public opinion." At that time, even if the Hanging Gardens did not exist, if people discover the ruins of an adobe city wall in the area, it will be considered as the remains of the Hanging Gardens.

Anyway, the original body has long since disappeared with the passage of time and the flames of war. Whether this good thing still exists or not is just a matter of later generations' word.

Adachi, relaxed and content, explained his insights, not forgetting to add:

"This is not a memory from my future, but information that your father deduced from his current thoughts!"

Lao Tzu truly deserves to be called the wisest being in human history! (Li Dan: Is this a compliment?)

Anda, who was filled with eager anticipation, hoping that his sons—or, if all else failed, that donkey of a son—would at least give him some response, received no words of praise whatsoever.

"Marum?"

Anda grumbled in dissatisfaction; he desperately needed someone to praise him.

Unfortunately, Marum, who appeared to be leading the donkey but was actually powering the cart, looked puzzled.

"Sir, you called me?"

He naturally didn't need to praise the master's wisdom, because the concept that the master was the wisest person had become an instinct in his heart, a world truth that didn't need to be spoken.

Anda was so angry that he went crazy. His whole body bounced around on the donkey cart like a fish thrown to the ground. Finally, he turned his head away from everyone and fell into a deep sleep.

They're just a bunch of foolish mortals who can't see the glory of their great god. I'm not talking to you anymore!

Compared to the hanging garden his father spoke of, Aaron was more concerned about his grandfather's grave. Grandfather? A word he knew very well what it meant, but it was still very unfamiliar to him.

He never realized what was missing from his family structure, and the role of grandfather was even more distant, existing merely as a common concept in life.