Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

"I'm fine, tell me the truth, please..."

His Adam's apple rolled violently, and the sound exploded in his chest like thunder, but eventually turned into a trembling breath.

His knuckles were clenched white, and his voice was twisted into a humble plea, like a drowning man grasping at the last straw.

Wop's voice suddenly became stern. "Although I have always doted on children, you are already an adult, and my doting is limited."

why?

A burning resentment welled up in Mortarion's chest.

Why is it that only his indulgence is limited?

Why is he the only adult?

If he was already an adult, what about his wayward brothers? Could they remain children forever?

"It's your fault. You're too late!" A broken sob escaped from his throat, but he roared like a wounded trapped beast.

He saw it!

The loving father unfolded a picture in front of him. He saw Wop and his brothers having fun together, the tenderness in their smiles, the tacit understanding in their gestures, and the close relationship they got along with. They were like real father and son!

He saw it all!

He gave them all his love, but what was left for himself?

There is only eternal night of pain and torture!

Now even the little bit of favor given to him has to be calculated carefully!

"It's my fault." Wop's voice suddenly dropped, and his knuckles brushed against the corners of his wet eyes. "I came too late, but I will spend the rest of my life making up for it. Now, close your eyes. When you wake up, you can interrogate me about my past, present, and future."

Mortarion clutched Wop's collar tightly. "Don't leave. Don't disappear. You haven't told me the truth yet. I haven't grown up yet... I haven't learned to live alone..."

Wop's fingertips ran through his sweaty brow, as gently as combing the feathers of a frightened baby bird.

"I can see that," Wop chuckled. "You're just a big boy who cries and tears at his clothes. I won't go anywhere until you grow up. I promise."

His gaze was fixed on Wop's eyes, as if he wanted to penetrate those pupils and reach the depths of his soul, and there was indeed no trace of lies in the haze.

He knew better than anyone that Wop would never lie to him, but only by looking into each other's eyes could he calm his restless heart a little.

The knuckles gripping the collar loosened a little, but he still stubbornly grabbed the piece of cloth, as if it was his last straw.

"Read my diary. Don't leave. Please, Father..."

But exhaustion finally defeated him, and his eyelids drooped uncontrollably like heavy brakes.

……

"boom!"

Just as Curze was in a trance, Corax's fist, filled with anger, hit his brother's cheekbone hard.

With the crisp sound of broken bones, Koze fell into the crowd like a rag doll, knocking over a dozen Night Lords and Raven Guards who hurried forward to assist him.

"Hoo, hoo!"

Corax's chest heaved violently, and every breath felt like it burned his lungs.

This bloody fight has lasted for seven days and seven nights, and sweat and blood have already soaked his torn clothes.

In the nanosecond when Koz's pupils dilated, he seized this fleeting flaw.

His brothers were indeed very powerful, but in this protracted battle, he was ultimately more skilled!

Corax dragged his wounded body and stumbled forward.

Broken breaths intertwined heavily between the two men. Corax slowly raised his bloody arm and extended his scarred palm to the collapsed Coze.

Koz's pale pupils regained focus, and he clasped Corax's outstretched wrist with his blood-stained fingers.

"I lost."

"Brother." The taste of blood still lingered in Corax's throat. "What did you see?"

Corax believed his brother wouldn't lose consciousness for no reason.

Although Koz's predictive ability is powerful, it is like a double-edged sword.

Those uncontrollable hallucinations would suddenly invade when he was most focused, pulling his consciousness away from reality.

Just like the fierce battle with Corax this time, it was an unexpected fragment of foresight that broke his fighting rhythm and caused him to have a fatal trance in the moment of life and death.

"Our next brother."

"What is he like?"

"A childish child."

Corax laughed; that could have been said of any of them, and his brother had no idea.

……

"Wop!"

"I am here."

Mortarion fell into a sleep he had never known, as if sinking into a deep, dreamless sea.

However, some invisible anxiety still haunted him like a ghost, causing him to wake up suddenly in the darkness.

Mortarion opened his eyes, and Wop's face gradually became clear in his blurry vision.

Those eyes, full of concern, were close at hand, radiating a warm glow under the dim light.

His violently heaving chest gradually calmed down like the sea in a storm, and the tense muscles in his shoulders and back relaxed inch by inch, and finally he lay back on Wop's legs.

This unconscious action made both of them stunned.

Wop: "My legs are numb, can you let me stand for a while?"

"sorry."

Mortarion straightened up as if he had been electrocuted, and his movement was so violent that he almost knocked over the pile of books in the corner.

As Wop slowly stood up with the help of the stone wall, he struggled to move his numb legs and almost fell down when he stumbled.

Mortarion's arm shot out like lightning, steadying Wop's shaking shoulders.

"Why?" Mortarion spoke first in the silence.

Wop: "You're asking for a lap pillow? Because you're grabbing my collar and won't let go."

"Are you blaming me?" Even Mortarion himself felt a little strange when he blurted out these words.

This wasn't what he really wanted to ask, but an indescribable anger was surging deep in his chest.

"How could I blame you?" Wop's voice remained gentle. "No father would blame his child, especially a scared child."

"I'm not afraid!"

Mortarion's voice suddenly rose, and Wop's comment made him feel a sense of frustration that was almost humiliating.

The silence was growing, and he hated it.

Mortarion uttered the word dryly: "You haven't told me the truth yet."

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

Worp nodded, as he had promised Mortarion.

"anything."

Mortarion blurted out the words, but he regretted them the moment the last syllable faded away.

He still longs for the truth, and this obsession has penetrated into his bones.

But at this moment, a deeper emotion quietly filled his heart, making him suddenly realize that he was beginning to fear the arrival of the end.

Which is ridiculous, because their journey has clearly just begun.

As Mortarion stared at his own reflection swaying in Wop's pupils, he suddenly wished that time could stand still at this moment.

Let this conversation turn into an endless river, let each question generate new puzzles, and let the truth always remain in the ambiguous moment of being clear but not yet clear.

But even so, Mortarion understood that Wop would eventually leave.

He has many brothers scattered across the galaxy, and they all yearn for redemption just like him.

He was unlucky, Wop came late, and his childish brother greedily took up too much of his time.

The scar left by his adoptive father still hurts. He doesn't want to see other brothers repeat the same mistakes, and he doesn't want his brothers to suffer the same torture.

“Where do I even begin?”

Worp was in an unprecedented dilemma. His way of educating Mortarion was completely different from before. Thoughts were swirling in his mind, but he could not find a suitable starting point.

At this moment, a knock on the door pierced the stagnant air, pulling Wop back to reality from his thoughts.

Mortarion shielded Wop behind him without leaving any trace. "Did anyone come to see me while I was asleep?"

"No."

Mortarion's voice was low and alert. "My foster father is looking for me. We must get out of here! Follow me!"

Wop nodded: "As you say."

The moment Mortarion pushed open the door, the gatekeeper's cloudy eyes immediately locked onto him.

Mortarion asked coldly, "What is it?"

Facing Mortarion's gaze, the gatekeeper slave lowered his head in fear.

"Have...dinner..."

Mortarion also lowered his head. These puppets were sent by his adoptive father to monitor him.

They were once the living, but are now monstrous fragments of the flesh and blood of the dead, driven by the warp sorcery of the Overlord.

These wild beings above IQ will not lie.

It was indeed dinner time, which at least meant that his adoptive father had not discovered Wop yet.

But no matter what, he couldn't let Wop be in danger.

Without warning, Mortarion delivered a powerful kick to the twisted form.

The sutures instantly broke under the impact, and rotten flesh and broken bones splattered like a broken rag doll.

The zombie drew a dirty arc in the air, slammed heavily against the stone wall, and slowly slid down like a puddle of mud.

Before the other slaves could react, Mortarion was a shadow.

Although he is only a little over two meters tall at the moment, and his body has not yet fully grown and still has the outline of a teenager, he is the original body after all!

His movements were incredibly fast, each strike landing precisely at the junction of joints and tendons, dismantling those blasphemous creations into component parts.

The crisp sounds of broken bones merged into one, like branches breaking in a storm.

The rotten flesh splattered, the sutures broke, and the limbs that had been forcibly pieced together fell apart in his hands, like a child taking apart a puppet that he had grown tired of playing with.

When Wop left the room, the corridor was covered with pieces of shattered flesh, and a strong stench of decay immediately filled his nostrils.

Seeing Wop frown, Mortarion immediately explained dryly: "Slitting their throats won't kill them."

Chapter 120 Father, I Fuck Your Mom (5K)

Wop slowly raised his arm, and this simple movement made Mortarion almost reflexively lean down, so that his head was at a height that Wop could easily reach.

Wop wanted to pat Mortarion on the shoulder, but after thinking it over, he decided to pat him on the head.

"I never blame you, not before and not now. You should be more confident. I like you when you are confident."

Mortarion slowly straightened his back. His nod was small, yet weighty, carrying a kind of resoluteness that came from a sudden realization.

"We have to get out of there."

Mortarion stepped on the broken bodies on the ground and slowly walked with Wop to the glass door on the wall.

The thick, explosion-proof glass was already grimy, its surface covered in dark green algae, like a layer of sickly moss. A strong wind from the canyon below blew away the thick, poisonous fog, revealing the winding, wound-like canyon below.

They should have left as soon as possible; his adoptive father would have discovered his betrayal soon enough.

The only reason Mortarion stayed here was because he was worried that Wop wouldn't be able to adapt to the environment in Barbarus.