Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 102 Kobolds: My Turn Begins (3k)

Forgrim died right in front of Guilliman when Mordred bit off his head, and his profane body was also devoured, leaving not even a scrap of flesh.

There was absolutely no chance of winning. At such a close distance, the difference in numerical values ​​had already determined the outcome. If the serpent demon were farther away, it might have caused Mordred some trouble.

But he just had the misfortune of wrapping his body around me. If he manages to escape, Mordred might as well give up being a Primarch and go home to raise chickens and grow mushrooms!
Thousands of tentacles shot upwards, and after biting off the head, the serpent demon was pulled into its body and turned into nourishment. It was indeed feeling pleasure, but it was Mordred himself who felt pleasure.

This utterly humiliating scene, if it happened on Atlas, would have made the canned boys shout that it must be their father's great power, and they would immediately go and hunt down the sprites in the subspace to see if they could be just as powerful.

Mordred didn't mind showing his inhuman side to his offspring, since it was something that couldn't be hidden, and it was better to let them get used to it first. The result made him quite satisfied.

While Atlas could understand, Guilliman found it a bit difficult to adapt and began to think about all sorts of random things.

Could Mordred be the one Father used to eliminate dissidents and deal with us?

Once the thought appeared, it inevitably spread through Guilliman's mind. Even if he didn't want to believe it, seeing Mordred happily gnawing on Forgrim's corpse still gave him a sense of shared sorrow.

"Uh~"

"I'm so full, but the taste was a bit off. Guilliman, what's with that look? You don't think I'm going to eat you up too, do you? This isn't our Fugrim at all."

"At best, it's just a larger version of a demon with Primarch memories; it has no warp essence whatsoever. It was created out of thin air. What are you panicking about?"

Mordred wasn't lying. The Primarch was a unique, high-end creation in the galaxy, with the potential to become a sub-god of the warp. How could it be so easily devoured?

He was the most qualified to speak on this matter. When he first met Fugrim, the unforgettable taste made his mouth water. But the thing he had just eaten tasted like cardboard and could not even be called a pre-cooked dish.

Fortunately, even counterfeit goods can stave off hunger. The emerald green fel energy surged forth again, filling the subspace rift like welding rods, polluting the chaotic pollution here as much as possible, fighting poison with poison.

It was at this moment that Guilliman finally saw his brother's strange form clearly. The one who had spoken to him earlier was not Mordred at all, but a tentacle that mimicked a humanoid shape and emitted a strange green light from time to time.

Thinking of his invincible power, capable of tearing apart ships with a wave of his hand, Guilliman's mind started wandering again:

"Oh no, I don't want to become a monster! If I turn into someone like you, how can I face my mother?"

Mordred, who was about to say a few words of comfort to him, turned pale upon hearing this. What did he mean by that? He made his living with his looks. He immediately lashed out with a tentacle.

"Enough with the nonsense. You can't expect to be as tough as me. You know, there are limits to how tough people are. The reason I'm such a man is because I'm utterly inhuman. And it's not just me; every one of us brothers is inhuman."

It doesn't even have as much human content as O'Grimm! You think you can be a human being? You're dreaming.

But then again, since you can use psionic energy, there's no way you could suffocate. Why are you running?

"I, I forgot."

Guilliman was speechless for a moment. He didn't know how he had used his psychic power. He just vaguely remembered that he felt great at the time, and in the midst of that great feeling, he just used it.

Now that his mind was clear, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't use any spiritual energy at all, even though he was practically bursting with urges. Instead, he began to doubt whether his previous memories were fabricated.

Mordred had nothing to say about this. He couldn't use psionic energy because he had a fragment of a star god within him. With fel energy as a second option, there was no need to exert himself in a thankless task.

Guilliman, however, was different. He possessed talent but was unaware of it. With a single elbow strike, he shattered his own warp essence, making him a psionic Muggle.

"Garlic Bird, Garlic Bird, you should just behave yourself as a Muggle Oglin. I'm a bit full from what I just ate. While we still have time, let's quickly assemble the fleet and rush out. Waiting here with them is not a solution at all."

Fortunately, nothing unexpected happened. As the cleanup proceeded steadily, more and more Atlas returned to Mordred's side and evacuated to their own Abomination through the pipes.

Without any hesitation, once all the soldiers had retreated to their own ships, the two Glory Queen-class ships that had collided were rapidly retreating.

At this point, navigation rules don't matter anymore; as long as the enemy is eliminated and the ship returns, there's plenty of time to repair it.

As nuclear flames rose from the void, this primitive weapon, born in the 2K era, faithfully fulfilled its mission, using intense heat to cleanse the filth that should never have existed in the present.

In an attempt to extend their advantage, Atlas went so far as to install 16 high-yield nuclear bombs on the Conqueror, while the Ultramarines next door were not to be outdone, determined to blast these traitors to smithereens.

The violent explosion directly destroyed two ships and wiped out most of the opposing fleet. The entire airspace was filled with metal fragments, which plummeted rapidly under the gravitational pull of Nukelia.

The combined fleet, having broken through the encirclement, finally arrived in near-Earth orbit around Nu Star and began seizing airspace to counterattack the Chaos Fleet that was closing in again.

Through the images transmitted by the bird-diviner, everyone saw the true state of Nukelia for the first time. Without a doubt, this planet was beyond saving.

The planet is filled with chaotic pollution, and war is raging everywhere. It's impossible to tell who is who, and there's even a bunch of pointy-eared Eldar who appeared for no apparent reason. The only way to destroy this planet in the end is to issue an extinction order.

The good news is that the crashed Ultramarines ship has been found, and they've pinpointed the survivors' location. Also, Nukelia doesn't have a massive Void Shield array covering the entire planet. The bad news is that they're in the middle of the battlefield, and in the chaotic terrain of Hive City, it's impossible to distinguish one place from another.

Without much delay, Mordred and Guilliman exchanged a glance and tacitly chose orbital drop, allowing the fleet to continue to intercept the enemy in the space battlefield.

However, before that, orbital bombardment is essential. With air superiority, the fleet will launch a precise fire attack on the planet below to eliminate enemy forces.

Mordred, piloting the Stormbird herself, charged forward, occasionally flashing and disappearing to evade the barrage of fire, while Guilliman was not idle either, serving as co-pilot and using missiles and cannons to take down the enemy aircraft that were relentlessly pursuing them.

"Damn it, we're out of ammunition!"

Mordred didn't even turn his head, secretly thinking that he must upgrade Stormbird's ammo capacity when he got back, and stuck his rear end out towards Guilliman.

"dig!"

"Huh?" Guilliman thought he had misheard, but before he could think about it, a slender and alluring succubus jumped out of Mordred's shadow and kept carrying ammunition out.

After the ammunition was almost fully loaded, Seele turned into a shadow again, rolling up the ammunition and stuffing it into the magazine, leaving the Ultramarines dumbfounded.

With its masterful ability to reload in mid-air and the Primarch's superior reflexes, the Stormbird transformed into an aerial fortress, unleashing endless firepower upon the ground.

Unlike the Space Marines who descended to the surface in airdrop pods, the air squads' mission was to search for targets.

But the environment in Hive City was far too complex. If Mordred hadn't been afraid of accidentally blowing up Angron, she would have burned the glass long ago.

Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining. As they got closer, they finally received a communication signal and saw the Extreme Blueberry carrying the Angron and fleeing frantically, while the one chasing them was another Angron.

"Which one to attack?" Having already witnessed the threat of Chaos, Guilliman didn't waste any words and went straight to the point, but his question was no different from a pointless question.

"Of course it's the one with wings. You don't mean you're going to fight your own Ultra Warrior, do you?"

Guilliman realized he had asked a stupid question, so he pressed the cannon and started firing wildly, missiles flying out from under the cockpit.

The demonic entity, though aware of the attack from behind, paid no heed. As long as he could capture that once-weak self, he could become whole again and no longer be like a mere illusion.

With wings outstretched, it evaded the missile's trajectory with a near-perfect cobra maneuver, then caught the missile in mid-air and launched it back at the Stormbird.

Guilliman was stunned by this dashing scene. He wondered if the effects of the fel crystal he had swallowed earlier hadn't worn off yet, and if he was dreaming. He immediately launched all the air-to-air missiles, held the control stick tightly, and began to fire wildly.

"Let's see how you hide!"

The Red Sand Angel soaring through the sky ultimately disappointed Guilliman. With a sudden acceleration that seemed to slam the aerodynamics of the ground, it effortlessly shook off all the missile attacks.

Even Mordred couldn't stand it anymore. After all, he still believed in science. You think those two chicken wings can outrun Stormbird's pulse plasma engine? You're kidding me!
Mordred casually handed the joystick to Guilliman, then stared intently at the figure soaring through the sky. After a brief moment of preparation, she teleported onto the Primarch with a grassland walk.

The sudden appearance of Mordred startled the demonic Primarch, who had no idea who this Primarch was, but driven by the Butcher's Nails, he still swung his battle axe at him:
“You lackey of the false emperor, you cannot stop me from regaining my freedom.”

"You're just a slave, stop whining and complaining. Just die already!"

Grabbing its head, Mordred, who had previously mocked its opponent for being unscientific, rapidly expanded, its four sharp claws plunging into the opponent's body. Its ferocious long tail, covered in chitinous armor, writhed repeatedly, revealing the ambition hidden within, and it opened fire at the head.

The Primarch, whose face was being washed with plasma, tried to break free, but he was no match for Mordred's monstrous strength and could only let out painful howls:
"You can't kill me, I won't perish."

"Shut up! I still remember the last person who said that. You dare to act tough in front of me? You're asking for it."

"Boom—" The two giant beasts crashed into the ground, smashing the spire of the Nest City and nearly killing the barely alive Extreme Blueberry.

After watching the black monster suddenly appear, tear off the other's limbs, and devour the red-skinned demon that had been chasing them, Hill thought he was probably going to die.

But before he could completely court disaster, Guilliman descended from the sky and pinned the explosive gun in his hand:
"Stop! Those are friendly forces!"

"But Father, why is that monster staring at us?"

Looking at Mordred, who had just devoured the Primarch and whose once golden pupils were now completely bloodshot, and who was breathing heavily at him, Guilliman felt that there was something strange about the way Mordred was looking at him, as if he were looking at—

A piece of fresh meat.

"No, retreat quickly!"

(End of this chapter)