The Grand Plan

Mordred could tell that Dorn was carrying some emotional baggage; otherwise, there was no way to explain why he had hit so hard, even knocking out Magnus's teeth.

But thankfully, perseverance pays off. After downing two bowls of soup, Magic Little Pony's Sunburned Ogryn skin returned to normal, and he was too scared to think about anything else.

"You wretched Dorn, you're clearly taking revenge on me!"

Dorn nodded, indicating that it was indeed true; his uprightness left no room for criticism and gave Magnus a good dressing down.

As Primarch is neither scientific nor magical, denying oneself is an extremely terrible thing. Magnus, who almost followed in Guilliman's footsteps, was panting heavily, his eyes filled with regret.

Mordred didn't miss his Mordred state. In fact, he knew that the pony who had made a deal with Tzeentch was beyond saving. Who knows if Big Blue Cuckoo was using that eye as a camera?

Even so, Master Mordred didn't believe in fate; he was determined to reverse his destiny.

"Little Ma, what kind of expression and look is that? And what are those tears?"

"Second Brother!"

"Don't call me Second Brother, call me Warmaster!"

A powerful melody began to play, seemingly an old song. At that moment, Magnus saw Mordred shining brightly in his eyes. His domineering yet handsome gaze, his free and easy stride, and his powerful and imposing physique made it clear that Mordred was the best of the three brothers!

Silently turning off the flash, Mordred grasped Magnus's hand with her left and Rogal Dorn's with her right, her eyes showing no trace of languor, only an indescribable, burning passion:

"Little Ma, I'm sure you've realized it already, right? But don't worry, brother, I know which bastard tricked you, there'll always be a solution."

"Warmaster!"

"Shut up, call me Second Brother!"

Watching the two burly men suddenly become excited and act crazy for some reason, Dorn blank. He still didn't understand what they were saying. If he asked them, he would seem out of place, so he could only pretend to know everything.

Fortunately, although Mordred was a bit silly and usually seemed extremely unreliable, he was a planner, so he immediately summoned the Khan and Tom to demonstrate what real Warp was all about.

Years later, the Khan and Tom also raised their own Demon Pal, one a little Keeper of Secrets captured from Realm of Tzeentch, and the other a shadow Daemon that closely resembled the Victorious in a Hundred Battles Bilaco.

Looking at the Great Thunder Daemon Ora Ora, who remained motionless in the gladiatorial cage and whose stand-in seemed to be behind Stand-in, the two Primarchs' mindsets underwent a slight change.

A hundred words are no substitute for one real experience. To make his good buddies aware of the existence of Chaos, Mordred took them all over the Abomination's foundry.

Forge of Souls, Daemon Circle, Dark Moon Cult, Enchanted Warrior —this whole process was manageable for Magnus, who had loved talking to the Emperor on the phone since childhood, but it truly reshaped Dorn's worldview.

Especially when Mordred handed him a high-capacity Bolter Pistol with only ten rounds, but loaded it with three hundred rounds herself, Dorn could no longer hold back:

"The Imperial Truth is false! Father lied to us; magic truly exists in this world."

Seizing the opportunity, Mordred, drawing on classical Numerology, began to introduce the so-called subspace Warp the Four.

Mordred definitely wouldn't reveal his real name. He didn't want his good friend to overthink things. If it accidentally got out, others wouldn't have his high-dimensional resistance, and it could easily lead to mistakes.

To prevent the Four Merchants from hearing, Mordred even activated the rather precious Blackstone Field, something even Atlas possessed only a handful of.

"So, Second Brother, you mean there are four Chaos God deep in the Warp, constantly groping the Emperor's crotch?"

We are the products of a deal between our father and the Chaos God.

"Are we even human? The Imperial Truth is a lie, and now even we are a lie, so what is real?"

Perhaps feeling a strong connection with Mordred and Magnus, Dorn suddenly had a brilliant idea. He forced a smile, what he considered a humorous but terrifying one, and said:

"The Emperor's crotch is real!"

Unexpectedly Dorn has a talent for comedy. It's hard to learn good things, but he learns bad things so easily. Fearing that Mordred might attract the Yellow Skins's attention, he increased the output of the Blackstone Field before confirming:

"That's right, the Emperor used his beauty to secure our future. No matter how you look at it, he sacrificed too much. I'm the only one who knows this secret, so please don't tell anyone!"

So now you know why I was chosen as the Warmaster, right? It's all to draw your hatred away. I only hate that Second Brother is incompetent, causing you, Little Ma, to suffer endless humiliation."

Magnus was deeply Moved upon hearing this, his eyes filled with gratitude for his brother. He immediately promised that he would never use Psychic Power again, or he would be a dog.

Before he could finish speaking, Mordred kicked him in the ear and cursed:

"I don't think you understand anything at all. Who said you can't use Psychic Power? And not only can you use it, you can use it recklessly. As for how to use it, that depends on your own understanding. We're both targets."

All gifts have been secretly priced. You two remember this: even in the worst-case scenario, never make a deal with the Chaos God. Once you do, you will lose your most precious possessions.

Mordred is not like the Emperor, that old riddle-maker; he certainly won't say what he shouldn't say, but he will definitely say what he can say.

"You saw those Pointy-ears Aeldari too. The reason they joined my Atlas is because they wanted peace after death. We brothers all have the potential to become Chaos God."

"Then, Second Brother, are you a god?"

I'm not a god!

Magnus, who had just been slapped again, was bewildered. He thought to himself, "What are you trying to do after all this rambling? Are you just trying to hit me on purpose?"

"Are you thinking, 'Why would I deny something as wonderful as gods?' Because becoming a god is a bottomless pit. The excrement you ate before was the creation of a fat, Chaos God."

Patting the two men on the shoulder, Mordred's usual jovial tone vanished. "If any of us get caught in a trap, remember to act decisively. Don't let the brothers suffer."

Dorn was the quickest to agree to the agreement; Sigmar never hesitated. Only Magnus was still hesitant, partly because he couldn't bring himself to kill his brother, and partly because he felt he was likely to be the first to be cut down.

"Does that mean I'll be restricted by that Number Nine for the rest of my life?"

"No, I have a plan that can restore your sight and turn your danger into safety."

"Have you ever heard of an evil technique that originated in Old Terra since ancient times, called the Nine Dragons Pulling Coffin? As long as you learn this technique, even if you are captured by Demons, you can be kept safe Kiya!"

But with every gain comes a loss. To learn this art, one must possess extraordinary willpower, something not easily endured by ordinary people, and one must abandon that nonsensical Psychic Power magic.

Who would want to be Star Slaves when they could be a decent human being! Magnus grabbed Mordred's leg, and if circumstances allowed, he would have loved to kiss her, shouting immediately:

"Second Brother, teach me!"

"Haha, don't panic, this is all part of my plan."

In reality, Mordred didn't have any plan at all, but the lack of a plan didn't mean he couldn't concoct one on the spot. When it came to tricking people, he had a wealth of experience.

"Little Pony, is Psychic Power such an inconvenient thing? Why should we be the ones being fed, and not the other way around? Let me be frank with you, you're beyond saving!"

Even though he had prepared for the worst, hearing it from others still made Magnus feel disheartened, but fortunately, Rogal Dorn was beside him, instantly dispelling his anxiety.

"Cheer up, don't embarrass yourself! You've been eating shit for so many years, how bad can you be?"

As expected of Dorn, who is most Chang'an people, he pointed out Magnus's true predicament in a single sentence, but it was precisely because of this that Mordred's grand plan could proceed.

"Dorn is right. What I'm about to tell you is the most secret of the Imperial Secret. Anyone who knows this information after leaving this door will die."

As the saying goes, if the mountain won't come to you, then go to the mountain. The Nine Dragons Pulling Coffin is just your first step towards freedom, while the ultimate goal is to infiltrate the enemy's ranks.

So, are you prepared to live a life of obscurity, forever condemned to Pillar of Shame, or to become a true hero and a legend?

In a daze, Magnus saw a vision: a torn galaxy, a mad Daemon, and countless humans struggling through suffering, yet forever unable to find salvation.

He was mocked and cursed; his name was condemned by countless people. He lost everything and ruined everything. The things he was proud of vanished into thin air, and he was the culprit.

Magnus didn't know what his future held, nor what price he would have to pay, but he knew he was the Lord of Prospero, the Crimson King of the Empire, and he was destined to become a legend.

"I do!"