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

"I've mapped their possible evacuation routes. We don't have enough manpower to seal off all the blocks, so we need your help."

Dantioch: "There are only twelve guards. Let's just storm it. We have experience."

"Okay, you take the lead and I'll cooperate with you."

Zoris and Dantioch quickly completed the tactical deployment, and with a loud explosion, the operation officially began.

"boom!"

The wooden door shattered into pieces in the shock wave of the explosion, and Dantioch was the first to rush in.

The soldiers behind him formed a fan-shaped tactical encirclement and killed the guards in the courtyard one by one with precise short bursts of fire.

Although they are named after swords, they are not stupid enough to fight others with swords.

The sword is just a synonym. It can hurt people vertically and horizontally, and it can penetrate armor by stabbing.

When unsheathed, it is as swift as a startled wild goose; when re-sheathed, it is as silent as the abyss.

Precise, elegant, and efficient, this is the sword.

In just a few seconds, all the guards in the courtyard were killed.

When Dantioch and his men broke open the door, the Seventh Chanzhi was so frightened as if struck by lightning, and his face turned as pale as paper.

The Third Wisdom Master still maintained his dignity and shouted in a timid tone, "What do you want? I am the Third Wisdom Master of the Twelve Wisdom Masters of Rocks. This is my home!"

"boom!"

The gunshot rang out in the closed room, and a glaring blood flower bloomed between the eyebrows of the Third Chanzhi.

His astonishment was frozen on his face, and his pupils gradually dilated, as if he still couldn't believe that he would end up like this.

The third Chanzhi fell heavily with a dull thud, and blood mixed with grayish-white brain matter gushed out from the back of his head.

Until his death, he never figured out how this man dared to shoot?

Dantioch's expression remained calm. He had already thought about how to write the report. The Third Chanzhi resisted arrest and grabbed the gun, so he was only forced to defend himself.

Anyway, we are all family here and no one will leak the secret.

It doesn't matter even if the secret is leaked. My Lord sent him here to completely eradicate this group of rebels!

Since the evidence is conclusive, why keep him alive if not kill him?

"Wait, wait a minute, this has nothing to do with me. I was coerced, they forced me to do this!"

Seeing the black muzzle of the gun pointed at him, the Seventh Wisdom pushed forward in panic, "I have served Rocks, I have shed blood for Rocks, I want to see the tyrant! I want to see--"

"boom!"

The gunshots put an end to his excuses cleanly and decisively, leaving only one more body.

Zoris lowered his gun and fixed his gaze on the sole surviving priest. "Who will handle this?"

Rodusk said hoarsely, "I led them here for you. I have a list of names."

Zoris narrowed his eyes. "What list?"

"Just like them, those above are the people you want to kill."

Dantioch's brow furrowed, but the gun remained pointed at him. "Why are you helping us?"

Lodusk lowered his head. "I'm not helping you. I'm only helping myself."

Zoris: "What do you want?"

He didn't believe that Lodusk would be so kind, and he believed that Lodusk was just quibbling.

Lodusk slowly raised his face, "I want to see Perturabo!"

Chapter 216 Farming (5K)

"You wanted to see me?" Perturabo's deep voice echoed in the dim cell.

Zoris and Barabas could have dealt with the fanatical priest themselves, but out of caution they informed Perturabo.

Pertura chose not to worry about any conspiracy, as the Four Gods were not that scary in the real universe.

Their power is blocked by the veil, and they cannot directly interfere with the material world.

Even if Lodusk does have some ties with Chaos, they are minor tricks at best.

As long as his father is around, no one can hurt him.

If he lives in fear and anxiety all day long, what kind of Primarch is he?

"blasphemer."

Lodusk raised his dark eyes and squeezed out a hoarse voice from his cracked lips.

"you are right."

Perturabo understood his implication. "Where are the gods?"

The corners of Lodusk's mouth twitched, and he pulled out a twisted, hideous smile. "The gods are dead! They died long ago... all dead!"

Wop: "What did you see?"

Lodusk's gaze passed over the Primarch and fell upon the mortal.

"I recognize you. You are the mentor of blasphemers, and you are also a blasphemer."

"I just don't believe in the God you believe in." Wop met his gaze, his heart calm.

To call him a blasphemer is pure slander. He has always been a loyal believer of the God-Emperor, even though he hasn't worshipped him for a long time.

But at least he was the man who had carved out the God Emperor card figurine one by one.

Perturabo leaned forward slightly, completely shrouding Lodusk in shadow. "Answer my father, what do you see?"

Lodusk's eyelids trembled violently, as if fighting the memory that tore at his sanity.

"I saw... the gods, they... they..."

His voice trembled, his nails dug deep into his palms, blood gushing out. "They are calling for help. Those nameless creatures extended tentacles from the abyss of stars and wrapped around their bodies."

"I heard it. I heard the sound of them being crushed inch by inch, just like... just like a millstone crushing wheat..."

"They screamed in my ears, they are all dead!"

"No, no, they are not dead!"

"They were eaten! The tentacles ate them, not crushed them, but chewed them!"

"Their bodies were devoured, even their godheads were chewed up and swallowed, leaving only their hypocritical shells!"

Lodusk's mental state is extremely beautiful.

Sometimes he laughed hysterically, sometimes he cried heart-wrenchingly, and sometimes he screamed in frustration.

He was once a devout priest of the gods, but now he is just a complete madman.

"It doesn't look like acting," Perturabo commented mercilessly.

Wop: "His faith collapsed. If my faith were to collapse someday, perhaps I would be even more completely insane than he is."

Wop has no faith, he doesn't believe in God.

He and the Divine Emperor were just playing around and shouldn't take it seriously.

But he also had faith. He believed that the Emperor's determination to protect humanity was unshakable, and he also believed that the Primarchs all had lofty ideals.

If the Emperor gave up protecting humanity, if the Primarchs all betrayed their former ideals, all of Wop's life's work would be in vain.

Maybe he will really become a madman crushed by reality like Lodusk.

But none of this will happen.

If the Emperor gave up on protecting humanity, then he would not be the true Lord of Mankind.

If the Primarchs had betrayed their former ideals, they were certainly not of the Wop Cult.

Perturabo: "You said you had a list."

Lodusk sobbed softly, like a child.

Perturabo slowly withdrew his gaze from the priest. "Father, let us go. It seems we can't ask any more questions."

Wop nodded slightly and left the cold cell.

Perturabo paused at the door, his eyes glancing over Zoris. "Send someone to guard him. Don't let anyone touch him."

Zoris clenched his right fist and placed it against his chest, "I will live up to your trust, my Lord!"

……

Perturabo stopped at the palace entrance, staring silently at the setting sun as it was about to disappear over the horizon.

"Father, what do you think?"

Wop: "Let's just assume for now that what he said is true."

"He saw the Olympians being eaten as snacks by the Four Gods."

"But that is certainly not happening now, but rather an echo of Ragnarok that occurred in the past."

"The Warp is a realm of chaos and disorder where time does not exist. Past, future, and present are intertwined and indistinguishable from each other."

"But his testimony may also be the Four Gods' plan."

Perturabo: "But he did not believe in the Four Gods, but stubbornly believed in the dead gods."

Wop sighed, "If it's true, his piety is truly commendable."

Unfortunately, piety cannot be used to make a living.

His piety could neither change the status quo nor save his gods.

Perturabo: "At least we can now confirm that the Olympian gods were not fictional, but real."

The birth of God is simple, just worship him, but only the God who survives is the true God.

As soon as these gods were born in the subspace, they had to face the siege of the four gods.

Only by surviving the battle royale can they have the opportunity to continue their faith.

Wop shook his head. "Where are the gods? In the stomachs of the four gods."

"It's a bit of hell."

"The living conditions of the lesser gods of the Warp are even more miserable than those of the mortals who believe in them!"

Perturabo: "Father, was the birth of the gods a coincidence, or was it premeditated?"

Wop pointed toward the sky. "I have no idea either, but maybe they have the truth."

Perturabo looked up. Wop wasn't referring to the swirl of stars, but the moon.

The Black Judges lived there, having plundered the Olympians for thousands of years and perhaps possessing a deep understanding of Olympia's origins.

Perturabo doesn't believe in God, but he wants to get the truth.

Wop suddenly thought of Fenris, which the Emperor praised as an excellent experiment in rebuilding the myth system.

Since it is a mythological system, there must be gods.

Fenris does have a god, and the world will of Fenris is God.

The Emperor considered Fenris an excellent experiment, perhaps precisely because its God still lived.

By analogy, could other worlds with their own set of myths be similar experiments?

Perhaps Olympia was also part of the experiment, but the Olympians failed and their gods were eaten.

During the Golden Age of Humanity, the Emperor was not the only one with foresight into the future.

Many visionaries have predicted the dark clouds of the Age of Strife and the downfall of humanity.

And these people are making various attempts to protect or continue human civilization in their own ways.

Colchis and Medea, Inverte and Phalanx, Fenris, and Olympia may all be the sparks of civilization left behind by the predecessors of the Golden Age.

Different worlds carry different plans for the continuation of civilization, like carefully designed experiments.

But the creators of the experiment had no time to verify it; they could only let history test it.