The Heretic's Path, Unimpeded!

Mordred still does not know exactly what kind of freakish things the Emperor stuffed into his body when creating him, but one thing is certain: these Warp-infused and physical-defying feats absolutely violate the Imperial Truth.

As the first Waaaagh cry rang out, the sound soon echoed across the entire battlefield, and those Atlas who were slightly further away, seeing their good brother having the time of his life, began to howl along.

In less than five minutes, the five thousand Atlas who had pushed deep into the Hive City ruins were radiating green light, scurrying about like a pack of hounds unleashed from their cages.

The good news is that these black-armored big guys are even more potent, but the bad news is that the Second Legion is heading down a path of heresy from which there is no return.

"Pah! What heresy? As long as we silence everyone who knows the truth, our secrets will never leak out."

Rather than suffer from Internal Strife, it is better to give up on treatment. Mordred's mindset shifted 180 degrees in an instant, thinking that he had been overthinking things; since he had arrived in this cesspit, he could not face it with the mentality of a normal person.

He threw a punch, and the Mechanical Sentinel that tried to ambush him had its head blown off. Amidst the cheers of his progeny, Mordred began to charge like a fully loaded semi-truck.

Walls blocking his path were smashed to pieces, sentinels that dared to counterattack were hacked into fragments by his blade, and he destroyed everything in his way.

Even the soulless machines, which should have been incapable of fear, began to turn and flee after encountering such a beast.

But Mordred, who was already having the time of his life, would not let them go. Thinking of how he had once been trampled underfoot by Titans controlled by these robots, and then bombarded by his own progeny, the resentment accumulated over many days began to surge and intensify, making him want to rip out their fuel lines.

"Want to run? In your dreams!"

Dense emerald lightning surged around the Blonde Hair big guy, illuminating half the Hive City in a verdant glow. Steel that should have been exceptionally tough was twisted and deformed, finally turning into long spears that flew into the sky before plunging down to slam into the earth.

But it did not end there; the spears that pierced the enemies began to heat up, emitting an unsettling, dim Red Light before exploding one after another.

Amidst the continuous explosions, a phantom of a grassland appeared within the flames, from which a heavy-armored Greatsword wielder in a trench coat leaped out.

"Lightning~ Cyclone Slash!"

Such an inhuman scene would surely cause confusion in other legions, but in the eyes of the Atlas, they only saw the might of their own Primarch.

"Quack—this must be the great power of Father!"

Seeing their father so powerful, the Atlas began to charge, each pulling out their signature moves: some hugged a pack of grenades to act as the Jade-Faced Grenade King, others held meltas to jump into the fray, and there was even a Dreadnought with half its rear stuck in a tank, drifting along.

The entire Hive City was a scene of chaotic revelry, making Goff, who was commanding from the rear, feel his Scalp Numb and his eyelids twitching violently.

"Damn it, which Bastard is disobeying orders? I'm going to drag him out and have him executed by cannon fire!"

"Sir, that appears to be our father."

"..."

The adjutant's words left Goff silent. Looking at the battle brothers around him who were all staring at him, Goff scratched his head, then sprayed at the adjutant with a vicious tone:

"Why didn't you remind me sooner? What if Father gets a scratch? Quickly, tell that dog Mordred to go provide support! What were you doing, Primarch Guard? Go, move!"

Although the adjutant wanted to say that with the way Father was acting, the guard might not know who was protecting whom, he knew that if he said it, he would inevitably receive a sound beating.

As for Mordred, who was already enjoying the battle, he completely let himself go. No longer confined to melee combat, he tossed aside his Greatsword and picked up two Aircraft Heavy Bolter.

Relying on the formidable body of a Primarch, he played at "justice backstabbing," suppressing the entire front line single-handedly.

The muzzle flashes flickered everywhere, illuminating Mordred's maniacal laughter as he was gradually covered by the fire:

"Battle, refreshing!"

Perhaps it was because the performance of Mordred and the Second Legion was so outstanding that it made a certain Big Brother hiding behind the scenes feel incredibly satisfied. Even in this era where the dimensional barriers are quite thick, He was willing to spend a fortune to bestow a blessing.

"It's him. I want this one! No, both of them are mine."

However, it is rare for the Four Useless Ones to gather together to watch television, and the other three would absolutely not allow anyone to steal from the table; they were all very fond of this strange chess piece.

"Get lost, you brainless, slaughter-obsessed mutt. This piece is mine; letting him be with you would be a waste of his talent."

The blue Great Bird extended its tentacles, abandoning its usual treacherous, shifty persona, and slapped Khorne across the face with a snap.

"He can make an Ogryn count to one hundred; can you, you brain-damaged idiot? Tell me!"

Khorne's eyes widened. When it came to sophistry, he couldn't out-argue Tzeentch even eight hundred times over, but there was one thing he knew: it had been a long time since he had beaten this bird-man.

"Tzeentch, I'm going to kill you!"

"Come on then, who's afraid of you, you brute?"

Seeing his two colleagues starting to fight again, Nurgle, who was focused on brewing a plague, laughed happily. But before He could finish laughing, the spoon in His hand was snatched away and snapped by Khorne, and even His thick soup was contaminated by a bird feather.

"What are you laughing at? You fat sack of rot! Laugh again and I'll smash your pot."

"That's right, you decaying, stagnant fat sack, what the hell are you laughing at?"

Nurgle could truly no longer tolerate this, but before He could vent His rage, Khorne set his sights on the Slaanesh nearby.

"You cheap bitch with no sense of honor, I'm warning you, this piece is mine. Don't even think about pulling your little tricks."

The youngest lady involved did not back down either. Whoever gets it depends on their own ability; why are you barking, you dog?

With nothing more to say, they were already opposed to each other, and now it exploded completely.

Soon, a new round of Warp-wide chaos began, causing the already filthy Sea of Souls to churn with waves once more. Countless demons were annihilated and reconstituted, continuing to fight for their great gods.

As for the fifth player at the table, he smiled without a word, thinking that it was just like him to use Number Two to attract the attention of these Four Useless Ones; it must be his most brilliant scheme.

Warp gods? If I can fool you once, I can fool you a second time. As long as the plan succeeds, I will be the final winner.

The struggle of the Warp entities aside, for Mordred, there were more important things at hand.

Under the Second Legion's continuous seven-hour assault, the entire Hive City had been cleared out. Anything that could move had been killed, and the robots that couldn't move had been finished off with shots to the head. Finally, they found the target protected by the sentinels.

Looking at the dense pile of human remains in front of the metal construct, Mordred seemed to understand why those who had bombed the Hive City used nuclear weapons; they needed to use a massive electromagnetic pulse to paralyze what was in front of them.

"Father, what is this?"

"A Master Computer! Or rather, an intelligent core capable of building soldiers. Children, we've struck gold."