Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 49 Joining the Great Expedition, Becoming Atlas! (Bonus Chapter, Please Follow! - Poisonous Teeth)
If it's three minutes, it's three minutes. Every second longer is a sign of distrust towards one's own offspring.

Mordred doesn't consider himself a saint; in fact, he's a chronic case of laziness with a whole host of vices and minor ailments.

He was just an ordinary person. Even after becoming the Primarch, Mordred's mindset didn't change. At most, he just went a little crazy because he became a powerful figure.

Even so, Mordred's emotional intelligence far surpasses that of the Emperor, that yellow-skinned bastard.

Looking at the Eldar girl before him, who had been lost and found again, bound up like a roast goose, Mordred immediately praised his offspring:

"Well done! As expected of my offspring. I always said there are no useless skills in this world, only Stand users who don't know how to use them. Gawain, your devil has done a great job."

The somewhat dull-witted Gawain nodded frantically. He knew his father loved him. Without his civil engineering knowledge and demonic underlings, how could he have infiltrated the Eldar ship so quietly?

"As for Tom, you've finally proven yourself, saving me from doubting whether you're my biological son. You did a good job, keep going."

Three exquisitely crafted figurines, each unique in shape, were tossed into the arms of the three. These were life-size figurines that Mordred had personally sculpted for them, drawing envious glances from the others.

"Alright, everyone will have one from now on. Maybe we can even get rich by selling figurines. But now, Miss Chiaran, do you agree to my previous conditions?"

The Spirit Clan member, paralyzed on the ground, struggled frantically. She couldn't understand why this human demigod was so despicable as to launch such a shameless sneak attack on her, a mere comrade who was less than 3000 years old.

But at this moment, inside the cargo hold of the Abomination, she saw countless cages all around her, filled with her people, and she had no bargaining chips left.

But the pride of the Eldar still made Kiaran stubbornly insist:

"Kill me or torture me as you please. Since we've lost our soul circuits anyway, we'll suffer eternal torment after death. Guh—kill me!"

Mordred was a little confused. Although he smoked, drank, got perms, and played with demons, he wasn't some bloodthirsty madman. Even with the symbiotes on Incarati, Mordred had given them a chance to live, but they simply didn't seize it.

Even demons, who are considered extremely evil and are firmly on the villainous side, were treated with great kindness by Master Mo, who provided them with food, slaves, and even the Legion of Palu. After all, valuable things should not be wasted.

With such immense strength within him, wouldn't it be a waste to work for Old Man Huang for nothing if he didn't go crazy? He's not a citizen of the motherland, and he relieves his emotions by climbing the crescent moon on the rooftop every day.

Mordred, who is 3.99 meters tall but always claims to be 4 meters, ripped off the chains on Kiaran's body, squatted down and handed him a glass of orange juice.

Knowing that her fate would definitely not be good, Chiaran took the orange juice and drank it without caring whether it was poisoned or not. Then she saw a pair of golden pupils that were shining with an eerie light.

"Kiaran, why would I kill you? You saw it yourself, I didn't kill a single one of your people. Do you know what we're doing?"

Feeling dizzy from being stared at, the young spirit girl instinctively asked, "What are you doing?"

"We are embarking on a great expedition to make our race great again and to rid ourselves of the calamities left behind by the old night. In that time, all the worlds, visible and invisible, will be one collective, free from those inexplicable and meaningless sufferings."

Humanity must become great again; only then can I slack off and be a good-for-nothing who just waits to die. Do you understand?

Even though his mind was gradually becoming unclear, and it seemed as if some strange little figures were dancing wildly in front of him, Chiaran still sensed that something was wrong:

"Why should I understand? What does that have to do with our Elven race? You are humans."

"How can it not be related?" Mordred put his arm around the Eldar's shoulder and handed him a glass of pink orange juice, fully unleashing his charm.

"The reason this vast galaxy is in such chaos is because of you. It's the mess you created. You're a fool with extraordinary wisdom... a pure spirit race. Don't you want the spirit race to be great again?"

“To be great again, is that right?” Mordred nodded, his eyes so firm that he seemed to be an Eldar himself. He began to shrink, growing long, slender ears, which made the Atlas turn around frequently, their eyes flashing with ill intent.

In just a few seconds, Mordred, who had completely transformed into a different Chiarand, flicked her hair and continued to entice:
"Yes, follow your heart. The Spirit Race is now on the verge of extinction. Why do you want to find the Soul Circuit? It's because our race's birth rate has dropped to rock bottom."

Every life lost means the species is one step closer to extinction. This is a stark reality that you cannot change. The only way to change this is to completely eradicate that calamity.

Anxiety about the future of his race and fear of his own death were intertwined with a complex mix of emotions. Under the combined influence of Mordred's seduction and an overdose of Enchanting Mushrooms in the orange juice, Kiaran's psychological defenses were crumbling.

Tears streamed down his face as Kiaran seemed to witness that tragic future firsthand.

"Does it look familiar?"
That's right! It's not just the Eldar who are experiencing this; it's happening all over the galaxy right now, and you could be next.

Unless you can make the most important decision of your life and prove to everyone that you have the power and courage to pursue freedom.

Join the Great Expedition!
Become part of our grand plan to change this pathetic world that's like a cesspool.

Become the elite of Atlas, and through our collective efforts, witness all sorts of strange life forms, allowing the brilliance of managerial democracy to converge throughout the galaxy.

Only in this way can our Spirit Race forge a future!

Mordred spoke with such fervor that he almost believed it himself, while Chiaran beside him was already weeping bitterly, a far cry from his previous stubborn demeanor.

Under normal circumstances, Mordred would not have been able to fool him at all, but the problem is that all Eldar are psionic beings and have extremely high physical sensitivity, similar to demon ninjas.

But at least they could withstand the magical little potion with 3000 times the sensitivity. Kiarlan, a little bean sprout, simply didn't have such incredible resistance. He was completely filled with laced orange juice, and with his repeated brainwashing, it was hard for him not to become stupid.

But I'm not human!

"No, I say you are human, so you are human!"

With a sharp crack, Mordred slapped him across the shoulder and began shaking him up and down.

"Look my eyes!! Tell me, who are you?"

Kiaran, captivated by those eyes brimming with endless tenderness, shouted:

“I am an Eldar, I am an Imperial Demi-human, I am Atlas! Father, I am now part of the grand plan!”

Mordred pulled the person in front of her into his arms, stroked Kiarlan's hair, and handed him a glass of orange juice.

"Good boy, you've finally found your dad! Go back and rest now! Remember to drink water on time."

"Yeah, good."

Watching the departing figure, Mordred wiped the sweat from his brow, thinking that it was really hard to fool a fool. He glanced at the endless orange juice glasses beside him and felt a wave of exhaustion.

"Next!"

　Thanks to Losioff for the points donation, () hehe
　　
　
(End of this chapter)