Mordred still had no idea how many damn things the Emperor had stuffed into his body when creating him, but one thing was certain: those Warp-born and even physical monstrosities absolutely violated the Imperial Truth.
As soon as the first Waaagh rang out, wave after wave of Waaaagh filled the entire battlefield. The Atlas who were farther away saw their good brothers enjoying themselves and soon began howling along.
In less than five minutes, the five thousand Atlas who had plunged into the Hive City ruins were glowing green from head to toe, darting around like a pack of unleashed strays.
The good news was that these big brutes in black armor had become even more powerful. The bad news was that the Second Legion had embarked on the road of heresy and would never return.
"Bah! What heresy? As long as we kill every witness, our secret won't get out."
Rather than tearing himself apart mentally, he might as well give up on treatment. Mordred's mindset took a sharp turn. He realized he had been overthinking things. Since he had come to this cesspit, he couldn't face it with an ordinary person's mentality.
With a casual punch, he sent the Mechanical Sentinel that had tried to ambush him flying, its head smashed apart. Amid the cheers of his sons, Mordred began charging forward like an armored truck with no brakes.
Walls blocking the way were smashed through. Sentinels bold enough to fight back were chopped into pieces by his blade. Wherever there was a wall, he demolished it; wherever there was a person, he killed them.
Even the soulless machines, which should have known no fear, began turning and fleeing when faced with such a beast.
But Mordred, who was enjoying himself immensely, had no intention of letting them go. Thinking of how these robots had once used a Titan to grind him beneath its feet, only for his sons to bombard him afterward, the resentment he had accumulated over many days began surging wildly. He wanted nothing more than to tear out their fuel lines.
"Trying to run? Dream on!"
Dense emerald lightning surged around the big blond brute, bathing half the Hive City in green light. Steel that should have been exceptionally tough twisted and deformed, finally becoming long spears that flew into the sky before abruptly turning and crashing down toward the ground.
But it still wasn't over. The spears impaling the enemies began to heat up, emitting an ominous, dim red glow. Then they exploded one after another.
Amid the continuous explosions, a Grassland Illusion lit up within the flames, and a heavily armored swordsman in a cloak leaped out.
"Lightning~ Cyclone Slash!"
Such a superhuman scene would certainly have caused confusion in other Legions, but in the eyes of the Atlas, it showed only the might of their Primarch.
"Gwaaah—this must be Father's power!"
Seeing how powerful their father was, the Atlas charged forward, each bringing out their signature tricks. Some hugged a bundle of grenades and acted as Jade-Faced Grenade Kings; others raised melta weapons and leaped into close-range boarding actions. There was even a Dreadnought with half its rear end stuck in a tank, drifting around.
The entire Hive City descended into a riot of monsters, leaving Goff, who was directing the battle from the rear, with a tingling scalp and twitching eyelids.
"Damn it! Which bastard is disobeying orders? I'll drag him out and execute him by bombardment!"
"Sir, that appears to be our father."
"..."
The adjutant's words left Goff silent. Looking at all the surrounding battle-brothers staring at him, Goff scratched his head, then snarled at the adjutant who had spoken earlier:
"Why didn't you warn me sooner? What if Father gets so much as a scratch? Hurry and send that bastard The Khan to support him! What is the Primarch Guard even doing? Move!"
Although the adjutant wanted to say that, judging by Father's current appearance, if the guard went over, they might not know who was protecting whom, he knew that saying it aloud would earn him a sound beating.
Meanwhile, Mordred was already enjoying the battle to the fullest. He completely let himself go, no longer restricting himself to close combat. He tossed aside his Greatsword and picked up two Aircraft Heavy Bolters.
Relying on the formidable body of a Primarch, he began playing at righteous backstabbing and suppressed the entire battle line by himself.
Muzzle flashes flickered everywhere, illuminating Mordred's increasingly manic laughter as it became engulfed in firepower.
"Battle... feels great!"
Perhaps Mordred and the Second Legion had performed too spectacularly, for they had attracted the attention of a hidden big shot who was enjoying himself immensely. Even in this era, when the dimensional barriers were unusually 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."
Yet it was already rare for the Four Useless Ones to gather around and watch television together. The other three absolutely refused to let anyone steal a bite from the table, and all of them were very fond of this strange chess piece.
"Get lost, you useless mongrel who only knows how to hack and slash! This chess piece is mine. Following you would only waste his talent."
The blue, chubby bird extended its tentacles. Abandoning its usual treacherous swindler's guise, it smacked Khorne across the face.
"He can make an Ogryn count to one hundred. Can your brain-dead self do that? Tell me!"
Khorne's tiger eyes widened. When it came to arguing sophistically, eight hundred of him still couldn't beat Tzeentch. But there was one thing he knew: he hadn't beaten that bird-brain in a long time.
"Tzeentch, I'll kill you!"
"Come on, who's afraid of a brute like you?"
Seeing his two colleagues begin fighting among themselves again, Nurgle, who was single-mindedly brewing plagues, laughed cheerfully. But before he could finish, Khorne snatched away and snapped the spoon in his hand, then contaminated his thick soup with a bird feather.
"What are you laughing at, you fat bastard? Laugh again and I'll smash your pot."
"That's right, you rotten, stagnant fat bastard. What the hell are you laughing at?"
This time, Nurgle truly couldn't take it anymore. But before he could lose his temper, Khorne turned his attention to the purple serpent demon beside him.
"You shameless, dishonorable bitch, I'm warning you: this chess piece is mine. Don't even think about pulling any tricks."
The youngest lady, dragged into the dispute, refused to yield either. Whoever got him would rely on their own ability. What the hell was this mongrel barking about?
They were already opposed to one another, and with their words failing to align, the conflict completely erupted.
Soon, another great Warp brawl broke out, sending waves through the already-filthy Sea of Souls. Countless Daemons were annihilated and reassembled, then continued fighting for their great gods.
As the fifth player at the card table, however, Number Two merely smiled without saying a word. Just as expected of me. Using Number Two to draw the attention of these Four Useless Ones was truly my most brilliant scheme.
What do you mean, Warp gods? If I can fool you once, I can fool you a second time. As long as the plan succeeds, I'll be the final winner.
The struggle among the Warp powers could be set aside for now. For Mordred, something even more important awaited him.
After seven continuous hours of attacks by the Second Legion, the entire Hive City had been cleared out. Everything that could move had been killed, while the immobile robots had been given finishing shots and decapitated. At last, they reached the target protected by the Sentinels.
Looking at the dense mass of human remains before the metal construct, Mordred seemed to understand why the people who had demolished the Hive City had used nuclear weapons. They had wanted to unleash a massive electromagnetic pulse to paralyze the thing before them.
"Father, what is this?"
"The Master Computer! Or rather, the intelligent core capable of producing soldiers. Children, we've struck gold."
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