Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 78 Everyone is Oglin

Question: Johnson, Ruth, and Mordred are walking down the street when they suddenly hear someone shout, "Damn barbarian, how dare you steal my things!" What will happen next?

The wolf king might pretend not to hear, since he's not a barbarian, and Mordred would also pretend not to hear, since he was indeed the one who picked it up.

Only Zhuang Sen automatically identified himself and used his signature move, the "Peerless Lion Flying Head Fist," to prove that he was not a barbarian.

Although it's a bit of a stereotype, that was Mordred's initial impression of Johnson: a burly, barbaric man disguised as a civilized person who would occasionally bristle and hiss, spouting nonsense like "I want to be a war commander."

However, stereotypes are stereotypes after all. Since her own flagship had not yet arrived and Mordred was not supported by her mothership, she did not act rashly. Instead, she put the bowl of soup into the static field and took the opportunity to visit the hometown of her nominal brother.

As a chosen land with even more grueling challenges than Ning Jing, Caliban is vast, almost twice the size of Ning Jing, yet its gravity is roughly the same.

It's important to know that native Oglins generally only appear in worlds with high gravity; they are a variant that humans developed to adapt to their evolution.

As soon as the Oglin auxiliary troops of Atlas stepped onto the surface, they instantly felt the warmth of home, gathering with the dogs and running around the settlement with gusto.

From a near-Earth orbit perspective, Mordred also discovered that this godforsaken place is covered by dense forests year-round, with a forest coverage comparable to that of Katachan, and that the humans there have completely degenerated to a post-medieval level.

Of course, even if it has regressed to a medieval society, that only refers to the social appearance. After all, they are descendants of the former Federation of Humanity. The Caliban people can even shred bullet guns and have mechanical exoskeletons.

Moreover, when Johnson enthusiastically introduced his brothers to the Knights, Mordred could tell the Caliban were different just by looking at them; these knights were too strong!

Despite being super-sized heads created by the Emperor, the average height of the Space Marines is only seven feet, with the exception of a few special Legions, the height difference is generally no more than one foot, except for a few genetic mutations.

Calling them "big guys" is entirely due to the sheer size of these "canned boys." They're all muscular giants, several times larger than ordinary people of the same height; otherwise, how could they possibly support their power armor?

Mordred looked around and didn't see any chicks in the Knights Order. Almost everyone was a mini-Astartes. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were fellow Oglins.

Moreover, not only were they tall and strong, but these knights, who at most used simple mechanical exoskeletons, were also incredibly brave and fought off those giant beasts back into the jungle, gradually expanding their settlement.

Mordred could accept this, after all, different places have different customs and people, and Nocturne is full of big, muscular black men. Maybe the Caliban are just mini-Oglins who haven't lost their brains, which is quite scientific.

The only thing that puzzled him was Zhuang Sen, who was showing him around his hometown. It wasn't the complete opposite; he still had the expected features, but compared to the stereotype, Zhuang Sen was surprisingly normal.

Optimistic, cheerful, full of hope for the future, and with endless energy, all these descriptions can be found in Zhuang Sen. What's even more interesting is that he can also tell corny jokes, although they are a bit awkward.

In just a few days, the two were chatting enthusiastically, making Mordred realize that stereotypes are deadly. This Lion King is actually quite nice; he can actually connect with him on the same wavelength.

"Mordred, do you mean I don't just have one brother, but nineteen others? Then our father must be very good at educating his children."

"They are not brothers, but sisters. Pei Lao Si is our sister, and Alpha is the runaway princess of the empire."

But I'll tell you a little secret, and you absolutely mustn't tell anyone: Alpha is actually Forgrim in disguise, the third brother is a kid who loves cross-dressing, and the real Alpha is bald, though he's also a cross-dresser. If I ever become a Warmaster, I'll definitely expose all these dirty secrets; it'll be really interesting.

As for your father, you will see him in the future!

Perhaps to prove his point, Mordred pulled out a photo album from behind his back and tossed it to Zhuang Sen, who still needed to eat.

Sure enough, after seeing the photos of Fogrim sitting in front of the dressing table trying on a dress, and Alpha wearing a tight leather suit being kicked off the spaceship, Johnson believed Mordred's words without a doubt.

"That's great! I know I'm not alone; I have so many younger brothers and sisters."

After a thorough grooming, Zhuang Sen, like a noble knight, revealed an innocent smile, devoid of any scheming or calculation, only pure wildness, completely overwhelming Mordred, who was showing off his food while clinging to the dining table frame.

Aura is a very mysterious thing. Even though Mordred is the second oldest, and everyone except Zhuang Sen has to call him Second Brother, anyone with eyes can see that Mordred lacks the demeanor of someone in a superior position.

In contrast, after only a few days of contact, those sixty-two canned boys from the First Legion are practically inseparable from their Primarch and have already begun building their inner ring cliques.

In contrast, the Atlas bunch of good-for-nothings bombarded their own Primarch the moment they met, and all they do now is fight Mordred for food. After they're full, they find a sunny spot to lie down and sunbathe with their old man, Dennis.

It must be said that the evolution of life is truly a wondrous thing. Although the Caliban monsters were worthless in the eyes of the locals, they were just right for Atlas, especially the faint traces of warp energy, which were quite delicious.

"Brother, I think you'd better not have too high expectations for the Empire. In comparison, although Caliban is a bit poor, at least the people are honest and simple."

As the saying goes, the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. Don't be fooled by my offspring's lack of intelligence and constant trouble-making; your offspring are no pushovers either. You'll be in for a world of hurt when the time comes."

"Why?" Zhuang Sen didn't understand why his brother was saying this, but compared to the emperor, he at least had a mouth:

"Does my legion consist entirely of a bunch of extreme lunatics? I think my offspring are quite good!"
Especially that guy named Cipher, who shares the same name as the branch of Caliban that keeps secrets; I was even considering giving him the title of Lord Cipher.

Mordred knew he would react this way, so she didn't hide it. It was rare to find a 'normal person' inside the Primarch, so she didn't want him to mutate.

Soon, with Mordred and Brian, the First Legion exchange student, explaining together, Zhuang Sen's face successfully darkened. But even so, he didn't do anything out of line, and simply said, "I understand."

Such peaceful days did not last long. As the fleet arrived one after another, Goff, who had almost been killed by Guilliman, finally arrived in Caliban with the other half of Atlas and successfully reunited with Mordred.

Mordred was thrilled to see that his Abomination was intact and he could finally perform the surgery. He had never done such a difficult experiment before, so he decided to practice on Luther.

Looking at his good brother next to him, who was wearing a sterile suit and trying to appear calm but couldn't hide his excitement, Mordred was once again certain of one thing: you can't judge a book by its cover.

"I'm sorry, Luther, don't blame me! It's all for the big plan."

(End of this chapter)