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

"Nian," Wop's voice sounded again, even deeper than before, "three times out of ten, this is your last chance."

The boy trembled all over, his eyes red, and he finally broke down, squeezing out a few words from between his teeth: "Dear father, I / fuck / your / mother."

"Louder your voice! You still want to survive if you're so quiet?"

"Dear father, fuck your mother!"

"Sounds of articulation, do you understand what is meant by sound of articulation?"

His voice was so choked that it was almost inaudible. "Dear father, fuck your mother!"

"Good, very energetic!" Wop's palm fell heavily on the boy's trembling shoulders. "What's your name?"

"Karas Typhon."

"From now on, say this 1000 times a day. Got it?"

The boy's knees gave way, but Wop's large hands steadied his shaky form.

"Ming, understand."

Mortarion returned, dragging his bloody javelin with him, leaving behind him a trail of blood paved with the remains of his puppets.

But this boy.

Mortarion stared down at him, and although he didn't understand why his father was targeting him, he was sure that he had done something wrong.

His father never lied to him.

Wop was not targeting Typhon. Although Typhon was the direct cause of the Death Guard's fall into Chaos, he was now at most a chess piece.

When Mortarion landed on Barbarus, Nurgle's goal had actually been achieved.

The Overlord had raised him, and from this point on, Mortarion should become a follower of his loving father.

But Mortarion relied on his tenacious will to overcome corruption, so Nurgle had to save the country in a roundabout way. Because he could not corrupt Mortarion, he started with Typhon.

Typhon is a hybrid of an Overlord and a human, and is neither recognized by the Overlord nor welcomed by humans.

Even though he had made great contributions to overthrowing the Overlord's rule, and even though he had been determined not to become a monster like the Overlord, he could never gain the people's admiration like Mortarion, not even respect.

Even his comrades who fought alongside him never accepted him, and even looked at him as an alien, ostracizing him because of his psychic talent.

People have social needs.

The greatest desire deep in human nature is to be recognized and praised by the outside world.

Unable to gain recognition from humans, Typhon turned to seeking salvation through faith.

He had been fascinated by the mechanisms of corruption since he was a child, and his loving father generously gave him the recognition he could not get anywhere else.

Even told him bluntly that he would become a messenger of the great being.

This is how the fall of man began.

At first it was a little recognition, then greed for small profits, the desire expanded like a snowball, breaking the bottom line again and again.

Until one day when I suddenly looked back, I was shocked to realize that the road I came from had been cut off by my own hands, and there was only a bottomless abyss ahead.

But that was the future Typhus. The present Typhon could give up the chance to escape alone in order to protect mortals. He had not yet committed an unforgivable crime.

Before being abandoned by other humans, Typhon still considered himself a human being and he also thought about becoming a hero.

As long as he is not a bad guy like "Erebus", Wop can give him a chance.

If Wopken teaches, there is still a chance.

But if he refused to listen, then Wop would have no choice but to send him to see his loving father.

Wop: "Xiao Mo, is he here?"

"Not yet." Mortarion looked up at the top of the mountain. Such a long time had passed, and the Overlord still hadn't arrived, so he probably wouldn't come either.

Then let’s not wait any longer and go.”

Mortarion stood guard silently beside Wop. Wop's psychic barrier created blue ripples in the air, isolating the thick poisonous fog from outside, like the only lighthouse in the storm.

The mortals huddled in this safe zone, not daring to fall behind or cross the invisible boundary.

As for Typhon.

He is still confused, why should he be allowed to insult his loving father?

Typhon shrank his neck unconsciously. I hope my kind father won’t blame me?

Chapter 121: Human Weakness (5K)

When the prisoner team stumbled to Heller Pass, night had already fallen on this dead land.

They trembled through the rustling wheat fields, every step taking on the edge of fear.

The night of Barbarus was fatal.

The toxic fog spread across the surface like a living thing, forcing settlements to burn asphalt torches all night long, using the pungent flames to build a fragile defense line.

Deep within the swirling poisonous fog lurks some kind of predator, preying on those who are alone and tearing their unfortunate prey into bloody pieces.

As they stumbled into the asphalt fire circle at the entrance of the village, their nerves, which had been tense all the way, finally relaxed.

The captives supported each other and sat on the ground, their gasps for life rising and falling.

The Night's Watchman had actually glimpsed their figures from the watchtower, but fear had gripped his throat like an iron clamp.

He should have sounded the alarm immediately, but now he was huddled in the shadow of the sentry post, covering his mouth and nose tightly with his hands, and even breathing became cautious, for fear of alarming the monsters wandering in the night.

Not until he heard the familiar local accent mixed with panting sounds did he dare to press his pale face against the window frame and peek secretly through the narrow gap.

His gaze suddenly fixed on a person in the crowd, that dusty face looked so familiar.

The night watchman lowered his voice tremblingly, almost squeezing out the tentative words through his teeth: "Mokl? God, is it really you?"

Moker raised his mud-stained face and looked towards the sentry post with a frown.

"It's me, Thorin."

His voice was a mixture of confusion and blame. "You clearly saw us, why didn't you sound the alarm?"

"I, I accidentally fell asleep just now." Tolin's voice was tense, but dereliction of duty was much better than admitting that he was too scared to speak out.

Thorin stumbled to his feet, his legs shaking like reeds in the wind.

He raised his arm mechanically, the rusty alarm chain rattling between his fingers.

"when!"

The gloomy sound of the alarm bell suddenly tore through the night, and the crowd rushed to their homes like a frightened herd of beasts, but no one rushed to the village entrance to resist the enemy.

Wooden doors slammed repeatedly, and in a blink of an eye, only a few kicked-over asphalt torches were left in the center of the village, hissing in the dark night.

"Ah."

A trace of contempt and mockery flashed in Typhon's eyes. Mortals were indeed as cowardly and selfish as ever.

Wop suddenly asked, "What did you see?"

Mortarion's gaze swept across the chaotic village. "Fear."

Wop turned to Typhon, "What about you?"

"Are you asking me?" Typhon was still a little unbelievable and surprised by the question.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes swept over the trembling night watchman, and he whispered two words, "weak."

Wop: "Then let me ask you, why are they afraid? And why are they weak?"

Typhon: "Of course it's because of the fear of the enemy and the fear of death."

Wop shook his head.

"What about you? What did you see?"

Typhon regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. Where on earth had he gotten the courage to question Wop? Perhaps it was the other's kindness that had led him to misunderstand who he was facing.

Woppe: "I see a bystander effect where the larger the group, the weaker the individual's sense of responsibility."

"Cognitive dissonance theory," Wop pointed at the man in the watchtower. "His escape conflicted with his duty, which caused a psychological discomfort. To eliminate this discomfort, he proactively adjusted his cognition, replacing the truth with lies, and reconstructing the narrative to alleviate the anxiety caused by cognitive dissonance."

“When facts threaten our self-identity, our brain prioritizes solutions that are least damaging to our self-esteem. This is called self-rationalization.”

Typhon gradually became fascinated by what he heard.

He was keenly aware of Wop's intentions; he was trying to teach him a lesson.

This is not an imperative admonition, there is no condescending "you must".

Wop simply laid out the cause and effect in front of him, guiding him to piece together the truth like pieces of a puzzle.

When Wop finished speaking, Typhon found himself leaning forward subconsciously: "What else?"

"And then there's mass panic," Wop's voice was low and clear. "In a crisis, individuals are easily infected by the emotions of the crowd, losing their rational judgment and leading to a collective loss of control."

"There was no command, no coordination. They didn't even identify the threat, and they just trampled on each other like frightened animals."

Wop's addiction to being a teacher came back, "Can anyone tell me what the consequences of this will be?"

Mortarion dropped his eyes. "Everyone's hoping for the best, thinking that even if I'm gone, someone else will step up."

"Everyone secretly thought that as long as they hid long enough, the enemy would naturally leave after they had plundered enough."

Typhon's eyes grew even more contemptuous. "Putting your hope of survival on the enemy's mercy, preferring to kneel and wait for death rather than fight to the death, how foolish!"

Fortunately, he is not that kind of person!

Woppe didn't rush to refute, but just whispered meaningfully: "That's human nature."

"Human weakness has spawned a deadly vicious cycle among them. Individuals shirk responsibility out of cowardice, the group loses its defenses due to disunity, and the survival crisis continues to intensify. The more serious the crisis, the more individuals shrink back and protect themselves."

“Faced with this situation, what should we do?”

Typhon blurted out without hesitation: "Break this cycle."

Mortarion's gaze raked Typhon like a knife. "Twist it."

Typhon shuddered at the sight, his neck unconsciously shrank into his shoulders, and he staggered back behind Wop.

Worp's broad back became his only shelter at the moment, but Mortarion's gaze became even colder.

"How to break it? How to reverse it?" Wop did not agree with any of them.

"Perhaps, we should find a way to inspire their...courage?" Typhon's voice became smaller and smaller, and finally became almost a soliloquy.

Mortarion: "Lead them in rebellion."

Wop: "How to inspire? How to resist?"

Mortarion and Typhon fell into a deathly silence.

This will never end.

Wop's voice suddenly broke through the silence: "Imagine a tiger chasing the two of you. Neither of you can outrun it, and if it catches up to one of you, it will stop to feast, giving the other one the chance to escape. Who of you will survive?"

Typhon's shoulders slumped slightly, his voice muffled, "Who else could it be? Of course it's him."

Although he didn't know what a tiger was, it must be a terrifying predator.

Mortarion lowered his eyes, silent as stone, as if even his breathing was frozen in thought.

Wop added, "But you are more agile than Mortarion. You can climb trees, while neither the tiger nor Mortarion can. Who will survive?"

"Then it must be me!" Typhon tried to raise his chin.

Of course he knew the gap in reality, but since it was just a hypothesis, what's wrong with letting himself win once?

Wop turned his gaze to Mortarion. "What do you think?"

After a moment's silence, Mortarion's voice spread out like a deep pool: "We will all survive."

Typhon: "But you can't outrun a tiger!"

Mortarion slowly clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking. "But I can kill it."

Typhon was so anxious that he almost jumped up, "Wop didn't say you could kill it!"

Mortarion: "How will you know unless you try?"

Wop: "Mortarion can kill it."