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

It was like a falling meteorite, dragging a wake several kilometers long, tearing a burning wound in the evening sky.

【30 seconds to impact! 】

The Machine Spirit issued a warning.

【10 seconds! 】

Boom!

Jill jumped out of the bottom hatch and pointed his gun at the boy who suddenly appeared.

Teenager: "I want to talk to you."

Jill's heart skipped a beat. The blood connection allowed him to recognize the boy at a glance. He forced a smile uglier than crying and said, "Father, do you think my gun, no, my power armor, looks good?"

Monthly reward

Apparently, people weren't very enthusiastic about the last bounty, probably because they didn't have much confidence in my updates.

Because there are so many updates, it far exceeds the last bounty.

So today we are taking advantage of the event at the beginning of the month to hold it again, just like last time.

100 monthly tickets 1000 words

100 blades, 1000 words

10000 rewards for 1000 words

The upper limit is 30 words, and it will be opened again after it is reached.

Currently there are 3503 monthly tickets, 255064 rewards, and 740 blades.

Chapter 97: Jill won the MVP, Locke won without any effort (5K)

"Primarch, oh Primarch." Jill muttered to himself in the Dreadclaw.

He still remembered the scene many years ago when the Lord of Mankind announced the beginning of the Glorious Great Crusade.

Twenty legions, hundreds of thousands of Space Marines, seven thousand fleets, and hundreds of thousands of ships, its scale is unprecedentedly powerful in the Empire.

The Martian Mechanicus regarded the Lord of Humanity as the Om Messiah and gave all the fleets they had accumulated over thousands of years to the Lord of Humanity.

By now, the 13th Expeditionary Fleet had been away from Terra for far too long.

The Twelfth Legion also served at the forefront of the Great Crusade, soaring into deep space under the flickering light of the Astronomican, marking lost worlds with the Imperial Sky Eagle emblem and adding new ribbons of honor to the Legion's battle flags.

However, their glory is always incomplete because their Primarch is still absent.

Jill still remembered the scene more than a decade ago when the Emperor summoned all the legions to return to Terra. Twenty legions gathered on Terra to meet the Lord of Mankind and the Son of the First Return.

Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion.

He had seen his Primarch walk alongside the Emperor for the first time, and remembered the commotion among the Luna Wolves upon learning that their Primarch would command them.

Their Primarch is a Firstborn, an honor so great that it puts even the First Legion in the shade!

As each Primarch returned, the legions that still had vacant Primarchs grew increasingly envious. With each expedition or campaign, their inner desire grew ever more intense.

Whenever a warship sailed out of the warp, the soldiers couldn't help but ask: Is this strange planet the home planet of the Primarch?

Will this messenger ship coming from afar, this star message across the Milky Way, bring them the good news they have been waiting for for a long time?

[Launch countdown, 10, 9, 8...]

The Dreadclaws trembled, breaking free from their magnetic bonds and launching themselves from the ship's belly. They streaked silently through the cold void between the starship and the planet until gravity began to tear at them. Their armored hulls burst into blazing white flames, trailing plasma trails as they plummeted to the earth like steel meteors.

"Primarch, oh Primarch, where are you?" Jill was still chattering, completely unaware that he still kept the communication channel open.

His warriors remained silent, but beneath their visors they felt the same anxiety as Jill. Primarch, oh Primarch, where are you?

"Stay focused, Jill." The voice of Legion Commander Locke came from the communication channel.

Gil shut up obediently. He was certainly aware of his responsibilities and was sure that he could adjust his mentality before landing.

But Locke was the elder of the XII Legion, having been its leader as early as the Unification Wars, and had been leading the War Dogs since the Great Crusade.

The legion commander has spoken, and he has no choice but to listen.

"Primarch, oh Primarch." Jill murmured in his heart, "What name will you give us?"

The Luna Wolves did not change their name; that was the reward they received when they captured the moon, and not even the Primarch could take that honor away from them.

The Eighth Legion was renamed the Night Lords, the Seventeenth Legion the Golden Word Heralds, and the Sixth Legion the Space Wolves. The name of each legion reflects the unique personality traits of its Primarch.

What names would their Primarchs give them? What were their Primarchs' personalities like?

Will they be the Emperor's war dogs, just like them?

No, how could their Primarch be so superficial?

They were proud to be hailed as the Emperor's war dogs, but not necessarily the Primarch.

Because it is believed that except for the First Returning Son, the relationship between the other two Primarchs and the Emperor was not very harmonious, but it is unknown what the relationship between the latest returning Primarch and the Emperor is.

Jill had no right to criticize or comment on the relationship between the Emperor and the Primarchs, but he privately thought that the same might be true of the other Primarchs.

If so, are the Primarchs reluctant to return precisely because they are known as the Emperor's war dogs?

"Should we change the name?" This idea became unstoppable. Although the War Dogs were the glory bestowed by the Emperor on the Twelfth Legion, it was not impossible to change it for the return of the Primarch.

Even if this is just his personal shallow guess, the legion commander will definitely consider it carefully. They will not give up any opportunity to bring the Primarch back.

But the War Dogs was the name given to them by the Emperor. Changing the name without permission was undoubtedly a blasphemy to the Lord of Mankind. They could not name the legion in the absence of the Primarch. After losing the honor of War Dogs, they would only be the 12th Legion, and they had to submit an application to Terra in advance.

If this matter were to get out, other legions would probably laugh at them for being feudal and superstitious.

If the Primarch never returned after the name change, and the XII Legion gave up the glory bestowed by the Emperor but gained nothing, it would definitely become the laughing stock of the entire Empire.

But what if? What if the Primarch returns?

【60 seconds to impact! 】

The machine spirit issued a warning on the communication channel. Jill could hear the hidden tremor in its cold mechanical voice. This was a common problem of the Dreadclaws. Their machine spirits were extremely warlike.

"We are the dogs of war."

In the communication channel, Jill's voice exploded like thunder after a long silence, "In the name of the Emperor! For the Primarch! Crush them!"

……

"They're coming."

Angron looked up at the sky. Dozens of burning meteors were tearing through the atmosphere and falling towards them.

The Eldar do not use drop pods, as they despise such a crude way of fighting.

Even after the fall of the Empire, those slender xenos can still shuttle through the Webway like ghosts and appear in any corner of the galaxy.

With the Primarch's extraordinary eyesight, Angron could also see the true appearance of the meteorites tearing through the sky. They were airdrop pods with hideous claw-like shapes.

This proves that the fleet in space is indeed from the Empire, but it is not a fleet led by the Emperor himself, otherwise the Empire would not attack them.

This should just be some expeditionary fleet, and they have obviously made contact with Devash.

"Leader, what should we do?" Onomamos shouted.

Angron looked back at his warriors, familiar with the bloody battles, but still nervous at first encountering an enemy that fell from the sky.

"Onomamos, take the warriors to that forest and stay hidden. I will negotiate with the Empire. This war can be avoided!"

Angron's gaze wandered through the crowd, finally settling on Wop. "Father, help me this time!"

A gentle smile appeared in Wop's eyes. "I told you before, as long as you ask, I will definitely help you."

……

[Impact countdown 10 seconds, 9, 8, 7...]

The Terrorclaw tore through the Nuceria sky like a flaming meteor. As the Machine Spirit issued an impact warning, the reverse rockets and the melta roared simultaneously, and the scorching air waves burned the ground in the landing area into dark red lava.

Then the sealed retractable hatch at the bottom of the Terrorclaw swung open like six steel petals, and a Space Marine wearing blue and white MKII power armor jumped down. The ceramic steel armor made a dull metallic impact sound when it landed.

The scarlet vision of the tactical eyepiece completed the target lock analysis in less than a second. Although Jill was puzzled as to why the Terrorclaws did not open fire to clear the enemy, she immediately raised her bolter and aimed at the uninvited guest who had been waiting outside the airdrop cabin for a long time.

The tactical analysis results told Jill that they were just two mortals, but how could normal mortals survive the impact of the Terror Claw?

Gil would never relax his composure or feel any sympathy, but the moment his eyes met the young man, an indescribable emotion spread from his brain to his whole body, causing his hands, which were used to holding the grenade launcher, to tremble slightly.

You can’t go wrong!

You can’t go wrong!

Jill's blood boiled, every nerve ending trembling. In a split second, reason and emotion reached a startling consensus: the boy before him was none other than his genetic father!

The boy spoke in standard High Gothic, "I want to talk to you."

His tone was not intense, but it seemed to carry some kind of irresistible weight to Jill's ears, as if every syllable was pressing on his nerves.

Jill's heart suddenly spasmed, as if it was being tightly grasped by an invisible hand.

How dare he refuse? How could he refuse!

His right arm, holding the gun, slowly dropped, and beneath the mask, a smile uglier than crying appeared on his face: "Father, do you think my gun, no, my power armor, looks good?"

Angron studied them, and the Space Marines instinctively straightened their bodies, the crimson hounds standing upright on their right shoulder plates standing out as a striking contrast.

They are dogs of war.

Angron had long known from Wop's memories that the War Hounds were his offspring, but when these heirs, whom he had never met before, suddenly appeared before him, unfamiliar emotions surged in his heart.

Angron was at a loss for words in response to his son. All he could manage was a dry compliment: "This power armor is quite nice."

Angron felt that the current situation was suffocatingly awkward, but Jill was already in tears beneath her mask. "I am the first person in the entire legion to meet the Primarch, and even my father praised my power armor!"

"Jill, what are you doing? Please ask the Primarch to get on board!" Locke's voice suddenly exploded in the tactical channel.

Their encrypted communication channels always remain open, like an invisible umbilical cord connecting the fleets on the surface and in space.

The fleet had originally been hovering outside the maximum range of the Nukeria orbital defense platform, but now threw safety regulations to the wind. All the ships instantly increased their speed to 25% of the speed of light, and shot straight into the planet's orbit like an arrow!

Screw the safety regulations, they want to welcome back the original body!

"Father!" Jill knelt heavily on one knee, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Please follow us back to the Resolute Resolve. All the soldiers of the 12th Legion are eagerly awaiting your return. All of our brothers are eager for your return at all times!"

The Terrorclaw's machine spirit automatically ignited. These airdrop pods commonly used during the Great Crusade were far more advanced than the airdrop pods of later generations. They could even take off again and return on their own after landing.

But Jill didn't consider the Terror Claw at all. How could he let the Gene Father ride the Terror Claw? How dangerous would that be?

What if someone kills me with one shot?

And this also shows that they don't value the Primarch enough. What level of Terror Claws do you have to allocate to the Primarch?

We must wait until the fleet completes orbital suppression before sending out the Stormbird formation to welcome the Primarch!

Angron shook his head slowly, "My mission is not yet complete."

What mission?

Before landing in this world, Jill already knew that a civil war was breaking out in Nukeria, with the two sides of the war being Devash and Desia.

According to Devash's description, a rebellion broke out in Desia, and it was captured by a group of ferocious beastmen, and all the residents were slaughtered.

But at this moment, the truth split the fog like lightning!

A suppressed roar erupted from beneath Jill's visor. How dare the Devash rebels deceive them!

How could this be a rebellion? This is clearly a revolution led by the Gene Father!

Every Primarch is destined to conquer the place where he was born. All the legions used to envy the Eighth Legion, because they were so lucky. When they found the Father of Gene, the Primarchs had not yet completed their unification, so they could write the epic of conquest together with the Father of Gene!

And now, is it finally the turn of the Twelfth Legion to have such an opportunity?

"My Lord, please grant the Twelfth Legion permission to fight for you. Your descendants are willing to die for you!"

Jill lowered his head deeply, feeling upset at the legion commander's stupid decision. How could he believe Devash's one-sided words without any evidence?

If it weren't for his extraordinary wit, he would have almost accidentally injured the Father of Genes. Locke must pay the price for this, and he must apologize bitterly in front of the Legion soldiers!

Angron's gaze lingered on Jill for a moment. "What's your name?"

He held his head high and chest out, and pounded his left chest with his right fist, the ceramic steel colliding with a dull clang. "Gil Valen, the vanguard of the 12th Legion and commander of the 8th Assault Company, reports to you!"

The name of Gill silenced Angron, who had briefly glimpsed his offspring's future in the memories shared by Worp.