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

"I don't demand absolute truth, but I won't accept lies either, and Imperial Truth is a lie."

Wop shook his head. "You believe the Imperial Truth is a lie because you are the Primarch, and you hold a higher perspective. But in the eyes of mortals, perhaps the Imperial Truth is the truth."

"They will never come into contact with demons or the Warp in their lifetime. What harm will it do to them if they accept such a lie?"

Chagatai Khan's lips curled up in a cold smile like a knife. "You want to tell me that ignorance is bliss?"

Wop: "There is no absolute truth, nor is there absolute happiness. In your eyes, the Imperial Truth is worthless garbage. But for the weak, aren't the lies of the Imperial Truth a blessing?"

"The strong are qualified to pursue the truth, but the weak will only be shattered if they embark on the same path. If the truth were revealed to all of humanity, what do you think would be the outcome?"

Chagatai Khan's expression suddenly froze.

What is the truth?

The Empire is not great, and the Emperor is not omnipotent.

There are four true gods in the subspace, but they are all evil gods, eyeing humans covetously. Humans are destined to be unable to compete with the gods.

This is all truth.

But what would happen if the truth was told to the whole human race?

It will collapse, the order of the human empire will be gone, and the flame of human civilization will be extinguished by ignorance and fear.

Because the truth is poisonous and mortals cannot bear it.

“Some truths are like unsharpened knives; knowing them will only hurt you.”

"To minimize the influence of the Four Gods on mortals, the one-size-fits-all approach of the Imperial Truth may not be the most effective, but it is definitely effective. As long as no one worships the gods, Chaos corruption will naturally not occur."

Chagatai Khan: "But if people are living in hardship, they will still place their hopes in religion, but this cannot eradicate chaos."

Wop: "Then let me ask you, why do you want to make people's lives miserable?"

Chagatai Khan's brain twitched, as if his thoughts were pierced by an invisible arrow.

"Isn't the Emperor's purpose in launching the Crusade and reuniting human civilization to free humanity from ignorance? Isn't it to free people from hardship?"

“If everyone could live a happy life, who would still worship God?”

"So," Chagatai Khan murmured, "I'm supposed to free my people from suffering instead of telling them the truth? But aren't we discussing what truth is?"

Wop asked in return, "Don't you think that letting people live a good life is not the truth? Do you want them to live worse than pigs and dogs?"

"of course not!"

"Then isn't it practicing truth to let people live a good life?"

Chagatai Khan: "But you also told me that if the truth brings pain, lies will only make it worse."

“But this snow is poisonous!”

“Isn’t frost poisonous?”

“Frost is less toxic.”

"Shouldn't the truth be that snow becomes non-toxic?"

"Doesn't frost reduce the toxicity of snow?"

Chagatai Khan slowly shook his head: "You are still sophistry."

Wop sighed softly. He knew it would not be easy to convince Khan.

"But you're also right." The disappointment in Wop's eyes made Chagatai Khan's eyes stern, and he suddenly changed the subject. "Truth is the most brilliant sophistry, because no one can refute the truth."

Wop slowly raised his head, his eyes as bright as the morning star: "So?"

"So I should compromise."

Wop suddenly slammed his fist into his palm. "That's right, that's right. Compromise is moderation, not mediocrity. This is the most important principle in dealing with people!"

A faint curve passed across the corners of Chagatai Khan's lips.

He knew that Wop was trying to trick him, but what Wop said did make some sense.

Since absolute truth does not exist, then what he pursues does not exist either.

The Primarchs are not gods, and they are also limited in their abilities.

If that’s the case, why can’t we accept our own mediocrity?

Chagatai Khan did not seek perfect truth, he simply spit on lies.

But Woppe is also right that some lies are less toxic than the truth.

The world is already so cruel, what's wrong with letting mortals live their lives in peace and ignorance?

However, the truth should not be buried.

No mortal can bear the price of the truth, but someone must shoulder the heavy responsibility.

The emperor carried the burden alone, but outsiders never understood his efforts.

Chagatai Khan believed that his brothers were too harsh on the emperor, and he only saw a desperate man struggling in the abyss.

Chapter 130: Each One’s Journey (5K)

"Listen." Chagatai Khan's voice swept across the wilderness like a north wind. "I only give you two choices: surrender, or behead me."

Day after day, Khan continues to carry out his unfinished journey.

As the beginning of his conquest of the stars, the grassland must be unified and will be unified.

The Khasar tribe was one of the largest tribes on the grassland, with thousands of warriors.

But when the Khan led his army to surround Khasar's Mongolian tent, Khasar almost immediately gave up resistance.

This was because the Khan had already integrated hundreds of large and small tribes, and had tens of thousands of cavalry under his command.

The Khasar cavalry was powerful enough to sweep across any tribe on the grassland, but when they faced a coalition force of hundreds of tribes, even the bravest warriors lost the courage to draw their swords.

Except for the Hulailie tribe, although the Khan repeatedly used the wheel-chopping method to intimidate them, he never actually carried it out because these tribes were very sensible.

The Khasar tribe is no exception.

"Chagatai Khan!" Habtu Khan of the Khasar tribe rode out, his hooves kicking up clouds of dust. He pointed his scimitar at the enemy formation, his voice like thunder. "Do you dare to fight me? If you win, the Khasar tribe will surrender immediately! If you lose, please withdraw!"

The so-called duel is nothing more than an excuse to save face. To put it bluntly, it is just a way to save face.

They couldn't just kneel down and pay tribute to Chagatai Khan's army the moment it arrived, could they? That would be too humiliating.

But if he lost the duel fairly and was forced to surrender, he could at least save some face if the news got out.

In this way, it seems that the Khasar tribe is a decent people who keep their promises and are willing to accept defeat.

Chagatai Khan: "On horseback or on foot?"

"God bless you!" Habtu Khan laughed, patting his saddle. "We are the eagles of the grasslands. Of course, we must prove our worth on horseback!"

"I allow you to draw your sword first." Chagatai Khan sat upright on his horse, without even unsheathing his sword.

"Then you better be careful!"

Chagatai Khan's arrogance made Habtu Khan roar in anger, and he dug his boots into his horse's belly. The steed under his crotch neighed and charged at the enemy, his scimitar slashing a cold light under the scorching sun.

However, Chagatai Khan suddenly leaned forward, and his large, iron-like hand grasped the other's wrist with precision. With a flick of his arm, Habtu Khan was lifted into the air!

"boom!"

Amidst flying dust, Habtu Khan fell heavily to the ground.

He stared blankly at the azure sky, the clang of the scimitar falling to the ground still echoing in his ears.

what happened?

Chagatai Khan dismounted swiftly, his leather boots kicking up a fine dust. He looked down at his fallen opponent and suddenly extended his big hand toward Habtu.

"If you're not convinced, we can just play two out of three."

A bitter arc appeared at the corner of Habtu's mouth. Habtu Khan couldn't even see how he lost. Even if he won two out of three games, it was just humiliation to himself, and it seemed that the Khasar tribe could not afford to lose.

The eagle on the grassland can have its wings broken, but it cannot lose its pride.

His rough big hand tightly grasped Chagatai's wrist, and he couldn't help but groan as he stood up with the force.

He endured the severe pain all over his body and slammed his right knee heavily on the sand, splashing up fine dust.

"From now on, the scimitars of the Khasar tribe are yours to wield," he said in a hoarse but resonant voice, his forehead almost touching Chagatai's riding boots. "May the Eternal Heaven bear witness that you are our only Great Khan!"

The wind from the grassland blew between the two of them, lifting Habutu's scattered braids.

His lowered head and straight back formed a strange contrast, which was both a submission to the strong and a retention of the warrior's last dignity.

Chagatai Khan held Habtu's elbows with both hands, his eyes gleaming with rare gentleness: "I swear in the name of Eternal Heaven that the Khasar tribe will be integrated into the Tarkas tribe like other tribes. We will be as close as one family."

"From now on, our tents will be pitched in the same pasture, and our children will water their horses at the same stream."

"Let the thousand-year-old blood feud melt away like last year's snow. When the grass turns green again next year, there will be only brothers drinking kumis together on the grassland, and no more enemies plundering each other!"

……

"Kill them all!" Mortarion's voice was as cold as arctic ice. "Leave no one alive, woman or child!"

On the peaks of Barbarus, there are overlords as numerous as stars. Each mountain is occupied by an invincible ruler, but there is only one, because there cannot be two tigers on one mountain.

Mortarion and the Death Guard have flattened dozens of dangerous peaks, and his scythe has harvested the heads of countless overlords.

However, at this moment, he was facing an unprecedented situation - the overlord was not alone.

The sickle blade fell, and the overlord's head rolled to the ground, but his body still blocked the door.

Mortarion stepped through the pool of blood and pushed open the door.

A mother huddled in the corner, her arms locked behind her two children like iron hoops.

Her back arched like a cornered she-wolf, a hoarse roar rolling in her throat.

However, Mortarion showed no mercy.

If she were human, she would be a revered mother, but she is the Overlord.

Mortarion's scythe flashed a cold arc, and the hideous head fell. The child's heart-wrenching cry trembled in the bloody air, but in return he only received an icy look.

"Kill them all."

Scolval and other Death Guards rushed into the house with a grin. "If I can't beat an adult overlord, can't I bully you, a minor overlord?"

Typhon held his forehead helplessly, "Why do I feel like we are more like villains?"

Kweil raised an eyebrow, "You sympathize with them?"

"Bullshit! Which eye of yours saw me sympathizing with the Overlord? I'm suing you for defamation! She's defaming me!"

Although Typhon is a hybrid of Overlords and humans, and although Overlords may have once been humans - the cruel fact that they have no reproductive isolation from humans suggests that in the distant past, these horrific creatures may have the same origin as the Barbarus people.

However, the alien genes overflowed the banks of humanity like a tide, and eventually washed these former compatriots into their current hideous appearance.

But Typhon felt no pity for the Overlord. Whatever the Overlord had been, he was now nothing more than an alien tyrant entrenched in the mountains of Barbarus, cruelly enslaving the mortals of this land.

Aliens are born guilty, they deserve to die!

Kvir tilted his head, a sly smile on his lips. "Then sue me. Who should you sue? Mortarion or your teacher Wop?"

Mortarion's gaze lingered briefly between the bickering Typhon and Kvir. Typhon's vibrant humanity was flourishing, and his reputation among the rebels was now even comparable to Mortarion's.

Mortarion was a taciturn warrior leader, loved and respected by his fellow warriors.

Typhon integrated into the team even more thoroughly than he did. He would fight alongside the soldiers on the battlefield and spend time with them during their rest periods.

Mortarion is more feared, Typhon more popular.

Mortarion did not envy Typhon; his popularity among the warriors was a well-earned reward.

……

"Hunting team, over there!"

Chagatai Khan tightened the reins, and his warhorse sent out sparks on the rugged rocks.

He looked along the stretched arm of Qin Xia, the Lord of Qiexue. The distant horizon was boiling, and the dust was rolling and spasming like a wounded beast.

The Palatine Empire would go deep into the grasslands to hunt every year, with the highest frequency in spring. The Palatine Empire called this an outing.

But they hunt regardless of spring, summer, autumn or winter. As long as a noble feels like it, he will lead his fully armed private soldiers into the grassland.