Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 1 A Giant Who Loved Life

832, M30 Extreme Starfield
Tranquility is a beautiful planet, and compared to the dead worlds within the Milky Way, it can be described as a dark fairy tale for bedtime.

Here, you can not only watch dinosaurs baring their teeth with your dog on the grassland, but also compete with trees for air in the primeval jungle. If you want to show off your courage, there is also the Death Swamp shrouded in deadly toxins, where you can wrestle with randomly spawning giant mushroom men.

But in Mordred's eyes, this colorful world is not beautiful, simply because this godforsaken place is the Warhammer universe.

Honestly! When Mordred learned that he had come to the Warhammer universe, he was devastated, just like a jerk who had his toes stepped on. Luckily, he had a strong enough mentality, otherwise he might have burst into tears on the spot.

Although they keep talking about loyalty, who really wants to eat shit in a cesspool?
"I fucking didn't want to come to this cesspool!!!"

"Smart Boss, my toilet is clogged! Please use your amazing wisdom to help me!"

The workshop, located at the foot of the garbage mountain, had its door kicked open from the outside. Even though the sun had already set, a number of tall figures were still gathered outside. Every pair of eyes revealed a clear stupidity. Coupled with their huge physiques, it felt like this was a low-IQ area.

However, this is indeed the case.

"Shut up! I am your chief, not some clever Oglin. Can't you use your brains? If you bother me again, I'll kill all eleven of you."

The four-meter-tall blond giant roared, as if he would punch the person in front of him in the next moment and send their head flying. But Mordred quickly collapsed back onto the sofa. After all, it was too much to ask a group of Eugens to fix a toilet.

"Rambo? Rambo, where the hell have you been? Get back to work! Are you going to have your chief unclog the toilet?"

As Mordred finished speaking, a huge dog head emerged from the crowd. Standing there, its towering two and a half meters tall, one could sense the terrifying strength of this black dog-headed man.

Seeing the enormous dog in front of them, the group of Oglins were instantly overjoyed. No one knew why they were excited, but Mordred knew that no one would bother him tonight.

Watching the dog being escorted away by a group of Oglins, Mordred shrank back into the sofa and continued assembling the strange machine in front of him. After all, if he didn't find something to do, he might really degenerate into a golden Oglin.

Twelve years ago, Mordred wasn't called that. He was just an ordinary graduate named Huo Lang, the third child in his family, who was neither good enough for high-level jobs nor good enough for low-level ones, and worked as a safety officer on a construction site.

He vaguely remembered that he was contemplating life on the toilet that night when he suddenly saw a shooting star streak across the sky. He quickly made a wish, even crossing his arms in a rather devout manner.

"I want a vibrant and colorful life, I don't want to live such a dull and boring life. If possible, traveling to another world wouldn't be out of the question. Of course, it would be best if it were a fairy tale world with elves, animal-eared girls, and the like. Anyway, I'm not picky, I'm easy to please!"

As long as it's not for dusting, it's fine!

Before he could finish speaking, Mordred opened his eyes and saw the meteor shatter in two. One half flew forward, while the other half crashed straight down on him.

And that was it. Mordred only knew that she had slept for a long time, with screams coming from time to time. When she opened her eyes again, she had turned into a baby, with a dog's head covered in fur grinning at her.

The name Mordred was given to him by the old dog-headed man named Thomas, and he thus gained a new identity—Mordred Wayne.

As a rather abstract person, Mordred was not afraid of the giant dogs; on the contrary, she quickly integrated into the dog-man tribe.

Unfortunately, his good fortune didn't last long. When he was eight years old, old Thomas passed away, and overnight he turned into an eight-year-old child who was over three meters tall.

An eight-year-old child surviving in the wilderness is practically like looking for shit in a latrine, but fortunately, Mordred is no ordinary child; he is a Primarch.

As a limited-edition figurine created by the golden giant using unscientific technology, even if it were thrown into the ocean of feces in subspace, people would still exclaim, "Holy crap, it's real!!" So, in order to take care of the tribe that Thomas entrusted to him before his death, Mordred began his management.

With the Primarch's powerful military might, Mordred unified the Green Green Grassland in just three years, and incidentally took in the group of Oglins who could drive her crazy.

Whenever Mordred thinks back to this decision, he feels like he should get up in the middle of the night and slap himself. It's not that the Oglin is bad. In this world where the overall technology is still in the post-apocalyptic era, the Oglin, who is practically a humanoid animal, is indeed useful. But the problem is that he is too stupid!
Mordred put in all his effort, and it took him a full five years to get these big idiots to count from 1 to 100 and learn the most basic obedience.

Although that teaching experience was very painful, Mordred couldn't help but smile at the thought of teaching Euglin to count, after all, this was a feat that even the Archduke Tzeentch couldn't accomplish.

"Pah! Why should I compare myself to those expensive things? It's just sullying my brain."

"But then again, why hasn't my biology dad come looking for me yet? Am I the second or the eleventh? Who knows what number those two lines on the sheep placenta are?"

When no one is around, Mordred often talks to himself or rants to his dog. After all, there aren't many people he can confide in in this world, and Eugen is clearly not a good one to confide in.

"Damn, why did I think of Eugen again?"

At this moment, Mordred was like a psychopath, his left brain attacking his right, as if there was an unseen person talking to him.

With the bizarre device on the workbench in front of him completed, Mordred began his long-planned grand scheme.

This is a machine tool made from scrap materials. Don't ask why a machine tool would exist in a medieval, barbaric world. After all, humans were once wealthy, and places with humanoid beings were colonized by space.

This machine tool, and everything around Mordred, was pieced together by him and his men from the ruins next to the grassland.

As the plasma engine, shimmering with a blue glow, started, power was transmitted through gears into the machine tool, and pieces of steel began to be cut and deformed. Mordred knew that this was a sure thing.

Three hours later, when Rambo returned to the workshop, ready to find a place to get a good night's sleep, he saw his chieftain there, laughing like a madman, and even smearing lubricant on the lump of iron.

Recalling the chief's strange behavior before, Rambo suddenly felt a tightness in his anus, and his tail was tucked between his two hairy legs.

"Boss, did I come at the wrong time?"

"Hmm? No, you've come at just the right time!"

After cuddling his dog, Mordred excitedly introduced his creation: "Ta-da! A 30mm Atlas standard-issue explosive pistol!!"

"Do you know what this means?"

As a canine, Rambo has a body structure roughly the same as a human, and of course, he also has hands that can grasp objects. He directly took this wildly designed weapon.

What does it represent?

"Hehe, of course it represents our Atlas clan, which can crush the entire world!"

"I've had enough of all that red tape."

(End of this chapter)