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

There is no wall that will never fall down, and no steel that will never wear out.

Cracks will spread, wear will intensify, and sharp blades will be chipped by battle.

At this time, you should throw yourself into the furnace with confidence.

Impurities are removed through thousands of tempering and tens of thousands of forgings, and the vicissitudes of the past are shed.

"Dang!" Perturabo hammered and shaped.

Tempering removes impurities, just like those dazzling sparks.

They are only brilliant for a moment, leaving a mess on the ground when they fall to the ground, revealing their true appearance of coarse black debris.

"when!"

Steel reshapes itself during tempering and also wears out during forging.

If it is not re-melted, it will eventually be worn out by repeated hammering.

From hammer to blade, from blade to dagger, until no more weapons can be forged.

"when!"

He reshaped steel with a will stronger than steel, forging the rough steel billet through thousands of hammerings and giving it a brand new sword embryo.

"when!"

Steel is sincere and true, upright and unyielding, without cunning or deceit.

It is the warrior's metal, not as delicate as gold.

Sweat soaked Perturabo's robes, and the salty beads of sweat blurred his vision.

But whenever beads of sweat are about to fall into the eyes, an invisible big hand will gently wipe them away.

"when!"

Therefore, gold also has its meaning. It is luxurious and exquisite, rare in quantity, and is a natural art.

Gold may adorn steel, as art may adorn a warrior.

They float to the surface and do not soften the steel.

They are just decorations to awe the enemy.

"when!"

The sword blank went in and out of the flames seven times, was hammered repeatedly, and tempered again and again.

Each blow of the hammer set off a vibration of metal, sent sparks flying, and left fine burn marks on the floor.

But it is becoming tougher and sharper.

"Zi!"

The scalding sword was immersed in the quenching pool, and thick white mist suddenly rose from the surging water surface.

Metal hisses in the high temperature, steam fills the workshop, and time passes quietly.

Perturabo wiped the sweat from his brow and gripped the tang of his weapon.

The sword body is plain and without any accessories. It has not been sharpened yet and the edge is still rough.

Tempering and forging have given the steel sword its shape, but it still lacks one step - polishing.

Perturabo walked towards the grindstone, sword in hand, sparks flying between steel and rock.

As the polishing deepened, the rough edge gradually became smooth, the texture of the edge became clearer, and a cold light flowed along the sword spine.

Perturabo suddenly turned his wrist, and the sword blade hummed and broke through the air, revealing its sharpness!

"What a sword!"

Heracles clapped excitedly. Although he didn't know much about forging, this sword looked beautiful at first glance!

Dammekos was even more astonishing, and Perturabo's skills were so perfect that it was hard to imagine that he was just a six-year-old child!

Perturabo wrapped the handle around the hilt and sheathed the sword into the golden scabbard he had made, perfectly in place.

"Brother, please accept it." The boy held the sword with both hands and handed it to Heraclon solemnly.

Heraclon accepted the sword with great joy, carefully stroking the beautifully decorated scabbard.

The leather-wrapped hilt fit his palm perfectly, as if the sword was tailor-made for him.

As he slowly drew his sword from its sheath, the cold light flowing from the blade reflected the excitement in his eyes that was difficult to conceal.

Dammecus frowned as he looked at it, he really liked this sword.

Heracles doesn't need to go into battle to kill the enemy, so it would be a waste to give it to him. It would be better to give it to him for safekeeping!

But Dammecus finally suppressed his selfish desire. Although he felt reluctant, this was a gift forged by Perturabo for Heraclon after all, and he couldn't take away someone else's love.

Besides, Perturabo is his son. At worst, he can ask Perturabo to forge a sword for him in the future!

"Is he really a human?" Andos's face was filled with disbelief, but he grinned and realized his gaffe. His cheeks flushed red and he lowered his head in bewilderment. "I...I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

Is the Primarch human?

From a biological perspective, it is really difficult to evaluate.

Adult Primarchs are generally four meters tall or taller, one of the reasons being to accommodate their various special organs.

Each organ is a masterpiece of the Emperor. The nineteen organs that the Space Marines undergo in their transformation surgery are only the simplest. There are still a large number of complex organs in the Primarch's body that have not been revealed.

Even if we have the most original genetic samples of the original body, it would probably be difficult to uncover the secrets of all the organs.

But the genetic basis of the Primarch is still human.

They must be human, and only human.

"It's okay." Perturabo shook his head slightly, causing Dammecus to swallow back the scolding he had directed at his second son.

Perturabo stepped towards the easel, already having the entire painting in his mind, and his movements were as natural as breathing.

Caliphini tiptoed closer, and when she saw the outline gradually emerging on the canvas, her bright eyes widened instantly, and her rosy little mouth opened slightly in surprise.

The brush seemed to come alive in Perturabo's hands, and in just ten minutes, a lifelike portrait took shape.

When Andos took the painting, he asked in astonishment, "Is it for me?"

Wop: "What's the name of this painting?"

Perturabo: "To Andos."

Andos lowered his head and stared at the painting. In the painting, Andos was holding a book and basking in the soft morning light. He was sitting under a tree in the garden, and the spots of light cast between the trees danced on his face.

"Is this really me?"

Andos subconsciously touched his face. He really liked reading under the trees in the garden.

But how did Perturabo know this?

Perturabo seemed to know what he was thinking. "I've seen it once before."

He once considered painting famous mountains and rivers, or bright stars.

But he gave up on them all.

He finally chose the boy under the tree.

Because of meaning.

Famous mountains and rivers are indeed majestic, and the shining stars are indeed vast and boundless.

But what do they have to do with Andos?

Such a gift is meaningless and is simply a show of skill.

In that case, it would be better to draw a person, Andos himself.

This is what makes the most sense.

"You can draw me so vividly after only seeing me once?" Andos choked.

Perturabo: "I hope you enjoy it, Andos...Brother."

It felt a bit awkward to call him brother because his brother was crying.

It was not a suppressed sob, but a heart-wrenching cry.

Perturabo was stunned.

It was just a painting, an ordinary portrait. Why was Andos crying?

"Don't cry." Heraclon leaned closer to his brother and lowered his voice, "Everyone is watching."

Andos wiped away his tears with his sleeve, but he still couldn't stop sobbing, "Thank... Thank you, brother, thank you for drawing me so well, this is the most precious gift I have ever received!"

Dammex came forward cheerfully, "Son, where's my share?"

Perturabo was prepared and asked Caliphony to take out a laurel crown.

This laurel wreath is carefully woven from pure gold olive leaves, each leaf vein is clearly visible, and the leaves are dotted with sparkling gems, making them shine brightly.

The craftsmanship of this laurel crown was much more complicated than that of the sword or the painting, and Perturabo had prepared it for a long time in advance.

Perturabo: "Father, I hope you enjoy it."

Dammecus took off his crown impatiently and placed the new laurel wreath on his head like a holy relic, with golden olive leaves gleaming in his hair.

"Caliphate, how is it?" Dammecus turned to Caliphate beside him, and his voice was proud like a child showing off a new toy.

Caliphine: "Father, it complements your temperament perfectly. It embodies the majesty of a king while retaining its original simplicity and elegance."

Dammekos laughed heartily, and patted Perturabo's shoulder gently with his broad palm. "Good boy, good boy!"

This is exactly the crown he was pursuing, simple yet extremely gorgeous!

Wop: "What about my return gift?"

Perturabo first looked at Caliphonie, then turned solemnly to Wop: "Aren't Caliphonie and I the best gift for you?"

Culliphany gently took Wop's arm and acted coquettishly, "Yeah, isn't having me enough? Brother Wop!"

Wop said himself that seeing his students graduate was his greatest reward.

Wop deliberately kept a straight face, but the smile in his eyes could not be concealed.

He laughed, and Perturabo stopped laughing.

He stared at Carlyphane's arm, it was so tight!

Who told you to cling so tightly? What do you mean by "Isn't having you enough?" Then what am I?

Caliphini has no sense of boundaries!

This was what Perturabo hated most.

"Snapped!"

A crisp slap shattered the warm atmosphere. A faint fingerprint appeared on Perturabo's left cheek. He muttered softly, "Damn mosquito!"

This time there were real mosquitoes.

Human civilization is constantly expanding across the galaxy, so why are these damn mosquitoes also expanding?

A mosquito can't possibly travel through the void of the universe on its own. This must be a conspiracy! Who is it?

……

"My Lord!" Zoris hurriedly stood up to greet him.

Perturabo stared at the boy. "Zorris, tell me, what do you want to do? What will you do? What can you do?"

"I, I will..."

Zoris hung his head in frustration, as if he knew nothing.

Perturabo snapped. "Look up! Look me in the eyes and answer me!"

Zoris shuddered, his face flushed red, and he gritted his teeth, "I, I am willing to give my life for you!"

He seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and his body was shaking like a sieve.

Perturabo: "Remember what you said today."

"The old military barracks in the civilian area have been renovated into an orphanage. All orphans who have lost their parents can go there. Even if they are not orphans, as long as they are twelve years old, they can go there."