Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 42 The Invincible Titan Has Fallen

Recently, the crew of the Abomination have noticed that a beautiful female companion has appeared beside their great Primarch. Everyone is talking about it and speculating about who this lady is.

Some say it's a merchant clan chieftain, others say it's a member of the Terra Guard, and still others say it's an extremely rare Grey Oglin, otherwise there's no way to explain why it's so tall. In short, there are many different opinions.

In response, an unnamed Atlas 9th Company Commander stated that the beautiful woman was actually a genetic prototype, namely Prince Alpha.

However, this statement was unanimously denied by all the crew members. They were not blind; they had seen the princess before, and she had silver hair, while this one was black.

Even if we take a step back and say that she can dye her hair, everyone knows that Princess Alpha is flat-chested. It may sound a bit disrespectful, but it's the truth. Her figure simply can't pull off this tacky leather outfit.

In other words, the Atlas, with its relaxed atmosphere, would have been killed by the Eleventh Legion long ago if any other legion dared to discuss the Primarch. But only Alpha himself knew the extent of the humiliation he had suffered these past few days.

[That damn Mordred, he actually threatened me with photos and stole my name. What, this image has been engraved into the Machine Soul database? That's clearly your twisted sense of humor.]

Just you wait. Thirty years to the west, thirty years to the east, I will avenge this humiliation sooner or later.

Snapped!
A sharp crack interrupted Alpha's reverie and pulled him back to reality. Looking at Mordred, who had suddenly appeared behind him like a ghost, Alpha, who was already traumatized, shuddered.

"Stir, stir what?"

"What are you stirring up? We're almost at Incarati, get back to work! Have you forgotten you're a Primarch?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a violent tremor struck the ship. This was a sign that the ship had left Mandeville Point from subspace and was once again being disturbed by the planet's gravity, which also meant that their nearly month-long deep voyage had finally come to an end.

He gets angry just thinking about Alpha. If it were just that he was less skilled, he wouldn't care. But after a month of observation, he has gradually discovered the problem.

That outstanding offspring wasn't his child at all, and even these Alpha Reis who kept frantically applying for resources from Hydra were all fakes—they were all Atlas, drawing salaries without working and still doing so.

What's even more infuriating is that the seemingly silly dog-man is anything but innocent; he's a thoroughly treacherous bastard. This scoundrel actually used her humiliating photos to make money, which is why she's now too afraid to revert to her original form.

Moreover, in this month, Alpha discovered that the entire Second Legion was full of secrets. Genetically modified creatures, Spartan enhanced soldiers, and fel energy pollution were all child's play.

They can devour warp creatures, and even entire ships are alive. No wonder Atlas can stay deep in the warp. The entire legion is more like freaks in human skin than people.

No wonder Mordred, that madman, would coerce him like this. Once this secret is exposed, the entire Atlas will become the target of the Empire's wrath, and Mordred will be dealt with personally by the Emperor who wrote "The Truth of the Empire."

[He's probably been keeping this from his father all along, hasn't he? I know all your little secrets!]

As the saying goes, "thinking about heresies leads to heresy." Alpha, who had already imagined a drama series of at least eighty episodes, would never have guessed that his supposedly benevolent father, who believed in the truth of the Empire, not only knew everything but was also a participant.

But Alpha soon had no more reasoning. Mordred, clad in Hunter's Heavy Armor and wielding the Fallen Ashbringer, appeared before her, grabbed her, and teleported into the bridge.

Upon seeing his father appear, Goff, the true commander-in-chief of Atlas, didn't even turn his head. He was already extremely busy and pointed at the holographic image, issuing orders:

"Our intelligence was wrong. This subsector is called Incaration, and it has three forging worlds. The storm that tore humanity apart did not destroy this place."

Worse still, the entire subsector has built a pocket empire based on these three forging worlds, calling themselves the legitimate Federation and utterly disdaining to negotiate with the Empire.

Our communications were compromised by electronic code the moment they were sent, which means that the other party possesses technological strength at least comparable to that of the Empire.

Furthermore, due to their well-established systems, each forged world is protected by planetary-level void shields, coupled with ground-based anti-aircraft firepower, rendering our air superiority useless; we can only suppress them with mobile firepower.

"Father, let's prepare for the worst. Our only option is to retake this place completely by force, which will be a bloody protracted ground war."

Alpha found this bizarre scene of a son commanding his father hard to comprehend, but Mordred knew he was no match for Goff in large-scale army operations. He was only good at tactical advances and was content to be a good legion commander; there was no need for an amateur to command an expert. "Alright, in that case, let's get started. I don't care who the enemy is; this is Atlas's first battle, so we must win! Show me your best skills and don't let me down."

"Hey ha! Atlas will win!"

Everyone turned around and looked at the oddball who had blended in with them. Alpha, who had instantly become the focus of attention, shrank back, not understanding why everyone was looking at him.

But she quickly realized the problem and hurriedly raised her right hand and shouted:
"Hey ha! Atlas will win!"

Now everyone was satisfied and began heading to the hangar to prepare for the track boarding maneuver.

Unlike the impoverished era of the 40K when all units were Thunderhawks with airdrop bays, the Legion's boarding vehicles in the 30K era were mostly Stormbirds. These vehicles had thicker armor, more space, and were equipped with Void Shields, making them true integrated air and space fighters.

As the indicator light turned from red to green, countless steel birds streaked across the starry sky and plummeted into the death battlefield below.

Meanwhile, the Atlas fleet closed in and launched a fierce artillery barrage on the ground, providing fire support for the boarding forces.

Every second, tens of thousands of tons of physical ammunition explode in front of the Void Shield, turning into boiling steam under the terrifying high temperature emitted by the Light Spear, tearing a gap in the Stormbird's defenses.

Through the porthole, Mordred could see the dazzling purple light of the Void Shield when it was activated, which gave him an indescribable sense of extreme excitement.

Thirty seconds later, Mordred, who could now see the ground battlefield, no longer waited. The instant she rushed into the Void Shield, she leaped out of the hatch and grabbed the missile launcher. Intense fel energy crackled from her body, engulfing all the boarding troops in one fell swoop.

The battlefield, which was exchanging heavy artillery fire, fell silent as the emerald storm suddenly formed in the sky. Even the Titans swung their arms and pointed their cannons at the sky.

Whether they were Space Marines from the Fourth Legion or remnants of the Federation resisting the Empire, they all looked up at the sky, gazing at the verdant grasslands that should not have appeared in the sky, but were now gradually covering the entire land.

Both sides believed that the other side was behind it, so neither side took the initiative and simply waited quietly for the strange phenomenon to disappear.

But soon, a radio wave gave the already heavily damaged Fourth Army a jolt:
"This is Atlas. The Primarch has been deployed. Your reinforcements have arrived."

In an instant, 678 sorties, totaling 9 Stormbird formations, appeared, accompanied by 2712 Deathstrike missiles streaking across the sky. Mordred, standing atop the missiles, faced the wind and drew his sword, pointing it at the conspicuous Titan.

Towering Titans, minuscule humans, and a haphazardly wielded weapon that resembles a watermelon knife more than a sword.

"Is this guy an idiot? Don't insult my amazing wisdom with your nonsense!"

The Titan pilot, already high on his luck, swung the cannon, and the scorching plasma began to charge. He could already imagine the wonderful scene of this strange human being vaporized on the spot.

Before it could even fully charge, the unknown Titan pilot heard a maniacal howl, a mixture of shame and unbridled madness.

"Excuse me, curry stick!!!"

A beam of emerald light suddenly appeared and grew stronger until it filled the entire field of vision.

Then the Space Marines of the Fourth Legion were treated to a horrific scene.

The beam of light pierced straight through Titan's chest, and the enemies who had huddled together to avoid the missiles were instantly engulfed by the light before they even had time to react.

Burning, corroding, melting—the sword light swept across the battlefield with unstoppable momentum, directly destroying all life within a radius of several thousand meters.

The invincible Titan has fallen.

(End of this chapter)