832, M30 Extreme Sector
Serenity was a beautiful planet. Compared to the Death Worlds within the galaxy, it could practically be called a dark little fairy tale told before bedtime.
Here, you could not only watch dinosaurs bare their teeth with the dogs on the grassland, but also go into the primeval jungle and fight the trees for air. If you wanted to prove your courage, there was even a deadly swamp shrouded in lethal toxins, where you could wrestle randomly respawning giant Mushroom Folk.
But in Mordred's eyes, such a colorful world was anything but beautiful, simply because this damned place was the Warhammer Universe.
Honestly! When Mordred learned that he had come to the Warhammer Universe, he broke down. He was practically like a Gretchin whose toes had been stepped on. Fortunately, his mental fortitude was strong enough; otherwise, he might have burst into tears right there.
Though he kept muttering about loyalty, who would actually want to stuff themselves with shit in a cesspit?
"I really didn't want to come to this damned cesspit!!!"
"Clever Head, boss! My toilet's clogged. Hurry up and use your world-shaking wisdom to help me!"
The workshop door at the foot of the junk mountain was kicked open from outside. Even though the sun had already set, quite a few towering figures had gathered beyond the entrance. Every pair of eyes radiated clear, transparent stupidity. Combined with their enormous bodies, they gave off the distinct impression that this was a valley of low intelligence.
And that was, in fact, the case.
"Shut up! I'm your Chieftain, not some Clever Head Ogryn! Can't you use your brains for once? Keep bothering me and I'll execute all of you by the Eleven-to-one!"
The four-meter-tall, blond giant roared, as though he would send the skull of the person before him flying with one punch. But moments later, Mordred slumped back onto the sofa again. After all, expecting a group of Ogryns to repair a toilet was simply too harsh.
"Rambo? Where the hell did you go, Rambo? Get to work already! Do you really want your Chieftain to unclog the toilet?"
As Mordred finished speaking, a massive dog head pushed its way out of the crowd. Standing there at two and a half meters tall, the huge black Dog-man radiated terrifying strength.
Seeing the massive dog before them, the Ogryns instantly grew excited. No one knew why they were so thrilled, but Mordred knew that no one would be coming to bother him tonight.
Watching the dog leave surrounded by a group of Ogryns, Mordred curled deeper into the sofa and continued assembling the strange machine in front of him. If he didn't find something to do, he might really devolve into a Golden Giant Ogryn.
Twelve years ago, Mordred had not been called that. He had merely been an ordinary graduate named Huo Lang, the third child in his family. Neither outstanding nor useless, he had worked as a safety officer at a construction site.
He vaguely remembered that, on that night, he had been sitting on the toilet contemplating life when he suddenly saw a meteor streak across the sky. He hurriedly made a wish, even clasping his hands over his chest with considerable sincerity:
"I want a colorful life. I don't want to live such a dead and boring existence. If possible, traveling to another world wouldn't be bad either. Of course! Ideally, it would be a fairy-tale world with elves, beast-eared girls, and all that stuff. I'm not picky. I'm easy to please!
"As long as I don't have to haul cement!"
Before he could finish speaking, Mordred opened his eyes and saw the meteor split into two. One half flew forward, while the other shot straight toward him.
And then there was nothing more. Mordred only knew that he had slept for a very long time. From time to time, he heard screams beside his ears. When he opened his eyes again, he had already become a baby, with a furry-faced dog head grinning foolishly at him.
The name Mordred had been given to him by the old Dog-man named Thomas. From then on, he gained a new identity—Mordred Wayne.
As a fairly eccentric person, Mordred was not afraid of the Giant Dogs. Instead, he quickly integrated into the Dog-man Tribe.
Unfortunately, the good times did not last. When he was eight, Old Thomas died of old age, and overnight, Mordred became an eight-year-old child over three meters tall.
An eight-year-old child surviving in the wilderness was like searching for shit in a latrine. Fortunately, Mordred was not ordinary. He was a Primarch.
As a limited-edition figurine crafted by the Golden Giant with unscientific technology, even if he were thrown into the Warp to butterfly-stroke through a sea of feces, anyone who saw him would still exclaim, "Holy shit, the original model!!"
Therefore, in order to care for the tribe Thomas had entrusted to him before his death, Mordred began managing it.
Relying on the overwhelming martial power of a Primarch, Mordred unified the Green Grassland in just three years, while also taking in the Ogryns who were capable of driving him to his grave.
Whenever he thought back on that decision, Mordred wished he could get up in the middle of the night and slap himself. It wasn't that Ogryns were bad. In this world, where overall technology was still at the level of wasteland punk, the Ogryns—human-shaped livestock—were genuinely useful. The problem was that they were too stupid!
Mordred had exhausted himself just to get those big idiots to count from one to one hundred and learn the most basic obedience. It had taken him a full five years.
Although that teaching experience had been agonizing, the thought of making Ogryns learn to count still made the corners of Mordred's mouth curl upward. After all, this was a feat even a Tzeentch Greater Daemon could not accomplish.
"Bah! Why am I comparing myself to those piles of trash? I've sullied my own brain."
"But now that I think about it, why hasn't my biological father come looking for me? Am I the Second Son or the Eleventh Brother? Who the hell knows which number those two lines on the Ewe's Womb represent?"
When no one else was around, Mordred liked to talk to himself. Otherwise, he would drag one of his dogs over and complain endlessly. After all, there were not many people in this world he could confide in, and the Ogryns were clearly not suitable listeners.
"Damn it, why am I thinking about Ogryns again?"
At that moment, Mordred was like a mentally ill man attacking his own left brain with his right, as though there really were an invisible person beside him having a conversation with him.
Once the strange device on the workbench before him was complete, Mordred began the grand plan he had been plotting for a long time.
This was a tool machine cobbled together from scrap. Don't ask why a tool machine existed in a medieval and primitive world. Humanity had once been prosperous, after all, and every place with humanoid life had been colonized by spacefaring humans.
This tool machine, along with everything around Mordred, had been pieced together from junk he and his people scavenged from the ruins beside the grassland.
When the Plasma Engine flickered to life with a blue glow, its power was transmitted into the tool machine through the gears. Piece after piece of steel began to be cut and reshaped, and Mordred knew the thing was as good as done.
Three hours later, when Rambo returned to the workshop and prepared to find somewhere to sleep, he saw his Chieftain laughing like a madman for some reason, smearing lubricating oil onto a lump of metal.
Recalling all of his Chieftain's strange behavior, Rambo suddenly felt a chill in his backside, and his dog tail clamped directly between his furry legs.
"Boss, am I interrupting something?"
"Hm? No, you came at exactly the right time!"
Mordred grabbed his dog and excitedly introduced his creation: "Ta-da! The thirty-millimeter Atlas-pattern Bolter Pistol!!"
"Do you know what this represents?"
As a Dog-man, Rambo's body structure was broadly similar to a human's. Naturally, he also had palms capable of gripping objects, so he directly accepted the wildly designed weapon.
"What does it represent?"
"Heh heh, of course it represents that our Atlas Clan can blast the entire world to pieces, Kiya!"
"I've had enough of all those pointless formalities."
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