Prophecy, even a dog wouldn't believe it.

Pigs in slaughterhouses never think about where they'll go after they're slaughtered; after all, it wouldn't be good if they knew the truth.

The Emperor is in this state now. He knows that half of his descendants will rebel in the future, but he can't guess why or who will rebel.

He saw only a tormented, Black Sun sneering at him, its nearly shattered, chaotic consciousness sending chills down his spine.

Subconsciously, the Emperor believed himself to be human, and only to be human. Even as the Great Crusade progressed and his power grew stronger day by day, to the point of surpassing human limits, he still considered himself just an ordinary human being.

Neos, a weary middle-aged man originally from the Terra Asia Minor Peninsula, refused to believe that the future of the empire was bleak, and he was determined to lead humanity to stand up.

To realize this dream, the Perpetual Neos donned Golden Shining armor, transforming into the golden overlord known as the Emperor, and stepped onto the stage to begin the grand expedition known as the Great Crusade.

But the prophecy continued to trouble him, troubling this weary Master of Mankind. In an effort to break the prophecy, after Horus's return, the Emperor devoted himself to caring for his offspring with utmost devotion, until Mordred's arrival.

As Mordred grows older, the future becomes increasingly unpredictable, and not only the Emperor, but even the Four Merchants cannot see through the fog.

This gave him new hope, and it was also the reason why the Emperor indulged Mordred so much.

This indulgence became even more apparent after meeting Perturabo, since Perturabo was, if not exactly the same as the one described in the Emperor's prophecy, quite the opposite.

Those who manipulate fate will inevitably be devoured by it. Mordred's brain is full of shit; his future has been distorted, and even Mordred can't figure it out.

Therefore, whenever a new Primarch was found, the Emperor would always keep this bastard by his side to see how he would react, so as to sort out his thoughts from the chaos.

But watching Mordred strip naked and scrub Mortarion in disinfectant, screaming in pain, the Emperor felt that this bastard probably had no message to convey and was simply torturing someone.

The thought of how he had been outsmarting thin air and getting shoved into the bottom of a pot for no reason made the Emperor feel rather unpleasant, and he desperately wanted to find a bastard to beat up.

As for why he only chose one, he couldn't beat more than that.

In the past, the Emperor would have definitely gone after the Khorne, but Barbarus's stench made him decide to change his target; he had long disliked that treacherous fat man.

The Emperor's sudden departure went unnoticed; Mordred's eyes were fixed solely on Mortarion's pale, fleshy body.

It's not that Master Mordred is a pervert, it's just that Mortarion is really too smelly. I didn't notice it when I was in Barbarus, but after returning to the ship, the stench hit me and made my eyes water.

Kalas, who came along, was alright; he only had a bad appearance, and Mordred simply threw him into the nearby pool to soak. But Mortarion was different.

Having never eaten decent food since childhood, and with Barbarus being a highly toxic cesspool, the accumulated toxins meant that Mortarion's breath could knock a person over.

"Little Mo! I didn't expect you to be so thin, yet your skin is so firm and smooth. You're perfect for women's clothing!"

But you're too weak. Look at you, not only are you constipated, but your teeth are also yellow. I'm starting to suspect you've been eating some kind of "Oli Ge" (a popular Chinese food product).

Their eyes met, and Mortarion, filled with shame and indignation, turned red with anger. But he was helpless; if he resisted even slightly, he would be brutally beaten by this bastard.

The more Mordred did this, the more excited she became. She swung her Adamantium chains and hoisted Mortarion up, making him look like a roast goose hanging in a shop window.

"Hey, what are you doing? Let me go! Let me go! I'm not joining the Empire anymore!"

"Tch, you don't know what's good for you! Do you know how many women outside beg me to scrub their backs? If I just lift a finger, those rich ladies will send over tons of supplies. You're lucky, kid. Come on, open your mouth!"

"I don't!"

Upon hearing this, Mordred immediately grinned wickedly, pulled out a giant syringe, and slapped it onto the brat's thigh.

"Young man, I didn't expect you to be so brave. Have you ever heard of enema therapy? It's an advanced technique left over from the Old Terra Era."

Guaranteed to give you endless Kiya!

I'm going to clean you up no matter what today. Either you drink this whole bucket of disinfectant, or you know what happens—I even have a durian needle here!

A large barrel of solution marked with a biohazard symbol was placed at Mordred's feet, along with a large funnel.

Even after less than half a day of contact, Mortarion could tell that this guy was a madman; he would actually put that thing inside, and...

"Kalas, what are you doing? Don't look!"

Mortarion, his legs clenched together, looked at his good brother, but to his surprise, Kalas didn't turn his head. Instead, he stared at him with wide eyes.

Torn between the two options, Mortarion finally gave in and opened his mouth to take in the enormous funnel.

As the two buckets of disinfectant were poured in, Mortarion's belly swelled up like that of a woman ten months pregnant, and she looked like she was about to roll her eyes back.

Fortunately, Master Mordred was still somewhat human-like and prevented the worst-case scenario from happening. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned two Adeptus Custodes and signaled them to take the young master to the toilet.

The Adeptus Custodes held Primarch in utter contempt; even Horus, while respecting their abilities, secretly regarded them as a gangster.

But Mordred is different. He's capable of such cruelty even to his own brothers. If you were to fall into his hands, wouldn't your fate be even more tragic?

After washing the big one, Mordred washed the small one. Seeing Mortarion contemplating life on the Golden Toilet, Mordred walked straight up to Kalas.

"Big brother, I choose the funnel!"

"Wow! You've even learned to answer first."

Sure, I admire you, but somehow, I'd rather kill you! By the way, you're probably mixed race, right?

Seeing his biggest secret exposed, Kalas lowered his head, but before he could explain, Mordred grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up.

"Kid, Mortarion is a good man, and he's my brother. As the saying goes, an elder brother is like a father, and I don't want anything bad to happen to my younger brother."

Mordred loosened his grip slightly, looking at Kalas whose eyes were bulging from suffocation, and couldn't help but sigh, "If you were in my shoes, knowing that your brother might be betrayed by someone else in the future, what would you do?"

"Ahem, sir, you're not talking about me, are you?"

Mordred did not answer, but continued to look at him calmly. That emotionless gaze sent chills down Kalas's spine, as if the person in front of him was not human, but an indescribable monster from the abyss.

"Then weed it out completely!"

"Aren't you afraid of dying?"

"I'm afraid. I don't want to die, but I'm even more afraid that my future self will betray Mortarion. Without him, I would have been tortured to death long ago. He's different from me. He was born not to be ordinary. He will become a legend."

Guh, just kill me!

"Okay, then see you in the next life."

With a splash, Kalas plunged straight into the pool, swallowing two mouthfuls of bathwater that nearly choked him.

Looking at Mordred, who was basking in pleasure, Kalas couldn't understand why he had let him go. Was he being used as a fool?

"My lord, you won't kill me?"

"Why would I kill you? I've already said I'm a refined and easy-going person. How Could anyone believe in prophecies so deeply? I'm not that kind of idiot."

What decent person would believe in prophecy? I ask you, would a decent person believe in prophecy? Of course not! Even a dog wouldn't.

But since you've come to this realization, you'd better remember this: if I find out you're up to no good, even if you run to the ends of the earth...

I'll twist your head off too.

I'm not afraid to tell you, don't let my gentle and easygoing appearance fool you, I'm not a good person at all!

For some reason, Kalas felt that Mordred wasn't lying; he really could go to the ends of the earth and twist his own head off. And why would you need to hide it? You don't even need to look to know you're not a good person.

Before he could even think it through, Mortarion, his body thoroughly cleansed of impurities, was being carried over by the Adeptus Custodes, shivering. Upon seeing Mordred looking at him, Little Mo instinctively shuddered and cried out:

"Second Brother, I was abrupt just now. I'll do anything you ask as long as you don't make me drink that rubbish anymore."

"Then how about killing your godfather?"

"What? Second Brother, Second Brother, you're my real Second Brother! I dream of killing that bastard!"

It's that simple. If Mordred had killed Nakhre without a word like the Emperor did, Mortarion would definitely have held a grudge. But after Mordred's friendly exchange, the brat should thank him.

Mordred remembered that this was something called the Stalingrad Effect, and it was specifically designed to deal with rebellious youths like Mortarion.

Looking at the excited Little Mo before him, whose eyes were so determined that he seemed ready to join the Second Imperium at any moment, Mordred, as the Big Mo, was very satisfied and put his arm around these two Sleeping Dragon Phoenix Chick.

"No rush, your Second Brother will give you a fair chance to compete."

"But I can't beat them!"

"Hey, you loser! Who said you were going alone? Little Cat, go and bring 3,000 Adeptus Custodes. Some Xenos want to fight us one-on-one."

Five