Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 61 The Uneducated Little Devil
The emperor is gone.

After taking all the supplies that Atlas had brought, including the portion Mordred had promised Russ, he left in a huff.

However, before leaving, the petty Emperor did not let Mordred and Ruth, these two unfortunate brothers, off the hook. He gave them a severe beating in front of Perturabo, almost making Ruth shit his pants.

As for Mordred's fate, well, after he uttered that outrageous statement in a moment of madness, the Emperor was just like the White Second Man encountering the Four-Headed King—his rage surged and intensified, and he beat Mordred from the Imperial Dream all the way to Olympia, smashing his head to pieces.

Terrified, Lemanrus dared not resist and betrayed his second brother on the spot, claiming that he was just confused for a moment and that it must be the power of his father!

Perturabo was the most unlucky, not only getting splashed with Mordred sauce, but also being assigned by the Emperor to Mordred for training.

His eyes were filled with a blank stare of helplessness. He wanted to speak but dared not, and could only stare blankly at the emperor, hoping that his father would say something.

The Emperor was unwilling to put in the effort to educate Primarchs. In his view, since he had already given birth to Primarchs, they would naturally grow and mature on their own, just as he had done.

The emperor was even proud, thinking that there were very few fathers as enlightened as him, and that it was entirely Erda's fault for leaving him.

As for teaching Peturabo, he had absolutely no intention of doing so. Wasn't Mordred, that good-for-nothing, supposed to do something? He needed to focus his energy on military matters!
After all, for the emperor, as long as the Great Expedition succeeds, everything will be alright.

As the Emperor led the Wolf King back to the battlefield, Atlas, who had been feigning death, suddenly appeared, grabbed a brush, and began cleaning with practiced ease, collecting the fragments of his father.

Tom, being the outgoing one, even greeted Peturabo, praising her as a truly captivating Primarch who would find it amusing to be toyed with by machine guns.

Perturabo's mindset underwent a slight change. In just one day, she experienced a series of events, including her father's arrival, his escape, a battle between father and son, her brother's explosion, and these strange Atlas soldiers.

"This must be a test from my father, no doubt about it!"

"Ugh!" A gasp shattered the father-daughter's final fantasy, and then Perturabo saw a bloody corpse reaching out to her, picking a clump of brains from her head.

Accompanied by a strange, unsettling sound, Mordred, whose mind had been racing, returned to normal and looked at Peturabo in front of her.

"How about it? Never seen this before, have you?"

"No." Peturabo had indeed never seen anyone who, after being smashed to a pulp, could still be jumping around as if nothing had happened.

"So my father left after only one meeting with me because of you. What can you teach me? Give me my legion now! I don't need your teachings."

Peturabo's tone was full of skepticism, after all, for someone who was born with knowledge and could learn anything just by looking at it twice, she didn't need to teach him at all.

Moreover, Olympia is not a good place. In Peturabo's worldview, everyone except her sister wants to use her, and she hates being ordered around.

However, at this moment, Perturabo was facing Mordred, who was not one to tolerate others. He stretched out his claws, grabbed Perturabo's head, and lifted her up into the air.

"What are you doing?" Peturabo struggled repeatedly as she was being patted on the head, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not get rid of the inhuman hand.

"What are you doing? Please, you need to know your place, Fourth Brother. I don't like the tone of your voice."

"To be honest, the Fourth Legion is very much to my liking. The gene seed has a very high compatibility. Although the stability is a bit lacking, that's not a problem for Atlas."

"I really love them! Once I swallow the Fourth Legion, I'll have an army of 130,000. I even dare say that if I exceed the mission's target, Neos won't say a word. The only obstacle is you!"

Perturabo was horrified to discover that as Mordred revealed her true feelings, his body was undergoing a chilling mutation. Two bone wings extended from his back, locking her firmly in place, and the naked greed in his golden eyes was completely undisguised.

This is a monster!

"But that's my legion, that's what I deserve, you can't..."

"Shh~"

Grabbing Perturabo's chin, Mordred looked down at her so-called sister as her two pairs of bone wings swayed.

“Look, I’ve already shown you my true self, why do you still say such childish things? Peturabo, do you care how many loaves of bread you eat every day?”

"Besides, you were a mistake to begin with, and I hate anything unstable. You're not qualified to inherit the legion right now, and you look delicious. How about this, you make a small sacrifice to fill my stomach, which will also be a contribution to the Great Expedition. I will treat the Fourth Legion like my own son."

After all, you're just a useless piece of trash; your existence is nothing but a waste of rice.

As soon as she finished speaking, Perturabo felt a sharp pain. The two pairs of bony wings were tightening, as if some liquid was flowing into her body along the bone spikes. Especially the sharp claw pressing on her head, she could hear the sound of her skull breaking under the weight.

Death, a concept that had never crossed Peturabo's mind, made her realize she didn't belong here ever since she opened her eyes halfway up the mountain.

Everyone coveted her knowledge and wanted to use her power, except for her sister Kelly Fanny. Yes, in his hazy state, Perturabo's first thought was of his slightly dim-witted sister.

“No, I am not a piece of trash, I am Peturabo, I am…”

"What are you? Tell me!" Mordred was excited and eager to explore the secrets in other people's hearts, so he continued to increase the delivery of the magic mushroom extract.

"I am my father's proudest son!"

"Damn it, those weasels."

The iron-gray steel barrier revealed a corner of the sea of ​​souls, channeling power into the body that was about to be twisted into a pretzel, making it indestructible and able to withstand Mordred's terrifying strength.

The original gene is such a magical creature. Like those with strong magnetic fields, it can suddenly become powerful, which is extremely unscientific.

But at this moment, Perturabo only wanted to survive. He smashed the bone spur with an elbow, then grabbed the claw on Mordred's head and kicked it hard at Mordred's skull.

"Die, you damned monster... ugh..."

The cool demeanor lasted only two seconds before Pryde grabbed his short legs and slammed him against the rock wall, nearly vomiting up his stomach acid and flattening his front armor.

"You asked me what I could teach you, so this is your first lesson. Don't talk big when you're ambushing someone. Also, you need to work on your physique; I doubt you can beat Rambo."

What? You're not convinced?

Perturabo, who was verbally humiliated, was naturally indignant. She realized that if she hadn't broken free of her restraints, her bastard second brother would have really tried to kill her. He had genuinely intended to kill her just now.

"You bastard, you almost killed me!"

Picking up a huge rock, Peturabo was about to charge forward when she found herself facing a dark gun barrel:
"That's not fair. You have a good gun and I don't."

As soon as he said this, bursts of laughter came from all around. With a few flashes of sparks, a dozen Atlas figures clad in optical camouflage emerged from the bushes, each carrying a disintegrating weapon that could ignore armor.

Even several stealth fighters rose into the sky, led by Tom, who had previously praised her beauty; this guy was now aiming a missile at her.

"You're talking to me about fairness? That's the funniest joke I've heard in years. You're so adorably naive."

Put down that weapon of mass destruction in your hand. I've figured it out. You're just a brat who needs to be disciplined. You're definitely a weasel's offspring.

"See? In this world, you need power and connections. Right now, you're just a nobody. Remember, your second brother will always be your second brother. What should you call me now?"

Perturabo had no doubt that if he answered incorrectly, he would be immediately targeted and attacked. Even though he was the Primarch, these lunatics were capable of anything.

"Second brother!"

"Didn't you hear me? You think you can be the Primarch by speaking so softly? You have no spirit. Start over!"

Extreme shame and indignation mingled within him. Peturabo wanted nothing more than to bite the bastard to death, but after the plasma pistol named Ambition began to charge, he still shouted it out, as if that could salvage some dignity.

"Ah—Second Brother!"

"Haha, good sister."

(End of this chapter)