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

The boy's expression softened slightly, but Wop immediately added, "But you're not entirely wrong either."

"What did I do wrong?!" The boy instantly got furious, anger rushing to his head.

He was clearly the victim, and he was clearly the one who was tortured and covered in bruises. Why do you say he was wrong?

It was already magnanimous of him to forgive Wop, but did he really want him to apologize?

"You're screwed too."

"I don't!"

Wop: "Then do you dare to swear that you are not twisted?"

"Why shouldn't I dare? Why should I swear?" The boy was puzzled. "Are you provoking me?"

Wop's face was filled with regret. "You actually figured out my sophisticated plan."

"Haha." The boy sneered. How could he not see such an obvious plan!

I'm six years old, and you still think I'm a three-year-old?

Wop extended his hand. "Let's get acquainted. I'm Wop, eighteen years old, and a stranger."

As if driven by some instinct, the boy also stretched out his arm and spread his palm. "Perturabo, six years old."

At the moment of shaking hands, Perturabo suddenly shook off Wop's hand.

"I haven't forgiven you yet!"

Wop: "But that doesn't stop us from getting to know each other, right?"

"Interference! We are enemies!"

"Why are you fussing over such a small matter?"

"Then where is the compensation you promised?"

"I promise to treat you like my own son from now on!"

Perturabo blushed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I never lied to you."

"Is it still my fault?"

"you are right."

"Who's wrong then?"

“Maybe it’s all the world’s fault.”

"Such a clumsy lie, do you think I'm a child?"

"How is that possible? You are already six years old!"

A vein popped in Perturabo's forehead. Although it was true that he was six, he still felt that Wop was being sarcastic.

What's wrong with six years old? Does a six-year-old have to be a child?

Perturabo is a child, but Wop can't really raise him as a child. He should treat him like an adult.

He was six years old. He had been surviving in the wilderness when Worp was still raising Sanguinius and Fulgrim. He was the oldest child Worp had ever seen. Mortarion was only two years old at the time.

If Perturabo is treated like a child, it will only trigger Perturabo's rebellious psychology.

Given his twisted personality, this rebellious mentality will soon ferment under the constant brewing of twists and turns.

If Wop treated him sincerely, Perturabo would be grateful, but this gratitude could not withstand his twisted nature, and sooner or later it would deteriorate because of the twist.

For people like Perturabo, Wop had to adopt an educational method that was completely different from that of other Primarchs - follow his path and leave him with no way to go!

Perturabo's parents and sister have proven that kind words are useless to him, so they can only use magic to defeat magic.

If you're twisted, then I'll be twisted too. Come on! Let's hurt each other! Let's see who's more twisted!

Wop: "You taught me a lesson, so I'll teach you one. Instead of reflecting on yourself, you blame others!"

"Some people can live their whole lives fearless, but they are most afraid of being twisted!"

Perturabo sensed he was hinting at someone and frowned.

But since it wasn't about him, he didn't care.

It is true that it is better to blame others than to reflect on yourself.

Perturabo suddenly frowned, "Did you scold me before?"

"What did I scold you for?"

Perturabo blushed again. "You called me ungrateful and ungrateful!"

"I'm sorry." Wop's voice was heavy with apology.

Perturabo snorted, but his anger finally subsided a little.

Wop: "I scolded you too softly just now."

Chapter 179 The most hummer-filled episode (5K)

"Snapped!"

Perturabo gripped the protruding rock with his fingertips and climbed up the cliff with a single effort.

Before my eyes was a new world I had longed for. Bushes covered the highlands like a crown of thorns, and fertile fields stretched to the horizon in the twilight, shining with an oily luster like spread animal hides.

After the rain, the sky cleared up. The rugged mountain ridges rose high into the clouds at the junction of heaven and earth. The sunset glowed each mountain with the color of molten gold. There were ancient quarries on their sides, and the magnificent fortresses on the top of the mountains were like jewels in the crown.

Just as he was admiring the beautiful view, Wop suddenly came into view.

In stark contrast to Perturabo's muscles tensed from climbing and his heavy breathing, Wop's body was shrouded in light blue psionic energy.

He flew lightly as if being pulled by an invisible silk thread, and touched the ground gracefully.

Perturabo's jaw tightened. He was resentful of Wop's merciless scolding. He was holding a grudge!

Perturabo strode away, leaving Wop in the sunset.

He had no idea where he was going and had no memory before today.

When he woke up, he was halfway up the cliff.

He had no memory, but he couldn't stand there hanging halfway up the mountain, so he had to keep climbing.

Soon after he woke up he met Wop.

If Wop was a good person, maybe he would become friends with Wop.

Unfortunately, Wop is not a good person. Although he is not a bad person, he is a twisted person with a bad personality.

Perturabo hates twisted people the most!

No matter where he was going, he was going to leave Wop and go to a wider world.

If there were castles on the other hills of Olympia, then there must be some on the plateau where he was.

He wanted to find someone else. He didn't believe that everyone in the world was as twisted as Wop.

He has no memory, so he can explore the world to his heart's content, and everything he sees is new knowledge.

So, he doesn't need Wop!

"He's just a child after all." Wop's sigh was carried by the evening breeze and drifted into Perturabo's ears.

No matter how paranoid, evil, twisted, ungrateful, cruel and inhumane Perturabo may be in the future, it is still chilling.

After all, at this moment he is just a six-year-old child, a lonely soul deprived of all memories.

Humans naturally crave a sense of security.

Some seek refuge in strength, others find solace in familiar surroundings.

But Perturabo had none of it.

His mind was blank, with no trace of the past, no cognition to rely on, and even his self became a phantom in the fog.

He only remembered that his name was Perturabo, and he knew nothing else.

A six-year-old child wakes up on an unfamiliar cliff with a blank memory. He has no idea where he came from or how to return.

There are no past memories to rely on, no familiar faces to trust, and even who I am has become an unsolvable mystery.

He can only climb upwards, for stagnation means falling;

He must go on alone because no one can give him answers.

In such an isolated and helpless situation, even the most resilient soul will inevitably feel uneasy and confused.

It is this deep-seated unease that shapes Perturabo's contradictory character.

In order to fight anxiety and uneasiness, the human brain will instinctively activate self-defense mechanisms.

The so-called self-defense mechanism is to maintain psychological balance by distorting reality. It often has the characteristics of disguise or distortion of facts. Its function is to protect the self and prevent the occurrence of disease caused by anxiety.

The self-defense mechanism is essentially self-deception, and the long-term harm far outweighs the short-term benefits.

A normal person's self-defense mechanism rises and falls naturally like breathing, activated when a threat comes and relaxed in a safe environment.

But the valve of Perturabo's self-defense mechanism seemed to be welded shut, and no one could close it.

Deep down, he longs for belonging, but instinctively resists the outside world because of his insecurity.

He needs love and approval more than anyone else, yet he angrily denies needing anyone else.

This kind of psychological rift will not heal over time, but will instead become more and more severe with constant mental exhaustion.

He spent his whole life falling into the abyss of twists and turns until he hit the bottom.

Even though the Emperor lavished upon him his love and recognition, even though the Emperor showered him with praise for every victory he had during the Great Crusade.

Perturabo is still a twisted person, and he will still be twisted.

When the Emperor praised him, he would quibble over the fact that the Emperor used seven compliments for the other Primarchs, but only five for him;

When the Emperor smiled at him, he would also feel resentful because the Emperor's smile was not as sincere as the one he gave to his brother;

Every compliment from the Emperor is scrutinized through his magnifying glass, every smile weighed on the scales.

Even if the Emperor claimed to love him, he would still feel disgusted, because the Emperor's favorite person was obviously Horus.

Therefore, whatever the Emperor did would lead Perturabo to the same conclusion:

The Emperor never loved him, he was just perfunctory towards him.

And these imaginary contempt will make him even more twisted, forming a closed loop.

His stubbornness is not something that can be solved by love and recognition. The root of his problem lies in his self-defense mechanism that cannot be closed. This welded gate continues to distort the way he interacts with the outside world:

He must distort all goodwill into contempt and ulterior motives in order to maintain the cognitive framework of "loneliness" that he has preset in his heart.

Everything started today, from the loneliness and anxiety of a child with his memory erased, standing on a cliff.

He is alone, and he must be alone.

Because he was born alone, only loneliness can protect him.

This self-protection eventually turned into a cage that imprisoned him for life.

This self-defense mechanism is not without loopholes. When Perturabo faces pure malice, he is unable to beautify the malice into goodwill, and this mechanism becomes useless.

But pure malice would not have caused Perturabo to close the valve, only to temporarily disable his mechanism.

He is still a twisted person.

Wop can't be evil, but he can't be good either.

Evil men are ineffective, and good men are useless.

He can only be a twisted person.

Evil is not thorough, and good is not pure.

Perturabo is such a person, and so is Erda.

She stabbed the emperor in the back because she felt insecure.

She believed that the Emperor did not love the Primarch at all, and did not want to see the tragic and desperate future in which the Primarch would force humanity to rule the galaxy, so she decided to save her son.