Ashen Herald

The Emperor's banquet ended with the dining hall reduced to ruins. The socially awkward big guy was no match for Mordred's venomous tongue; the constant dredging up of dark history finally caused the big guy to snap, pinning the Rebellious son down for a sound thrashing.

This left the Adeptus Custodes standing guard outside with a deep impression of this Primarch. After all, the Second Highness had only visited twice, and both times he managed to scrap an entire dining hall. He was truly too rebellious, lacking the Filial Piety of Horus.

Yet, the reality was quite the opposite. The father and son, who had been at each other's throats moments ago, had actually shaken hands and made peace, turning their attention to educating Vulkan, who had been caught in the crossfire.

This caused the black uncle to doubt his own life, a blasphemous thought crossing his mind that perhaps his family suffered from some hereditary mental illness; otherwise, there was no explaining why the Emperor and the Second Brother were acting like this.

Vulkan's sorrows aside, the Primarch's disappearance had triggered a fierce reaction from the Second Legion, but fortunately, Mordred was not senile and knew to call his progeny to send word.

As The Khan led the guard to arrive, Mordred, bolstered by his subordinates, stopped bickering with the Emperor and turned to demand benefits.

As for who had been pointing at the Emperor's nose and calling him an old man just a moment ago, Mordred had conveniently forgotten. After all, whoever provides the milk is the mother; the crying child gets the milk.

"Father, look, I've been back in the Imperium for nearly three years. I'm holding discarded steel plates and wearing standard Power Armor. Give me some gear! Even if I don't get any, what about Vulkan?"

One cannot care about face when asking for favors. Mordred directly hugged the Emperor's thigh, claiming that even while staying indoors, he worried about the progress of the Great Crusade every day—why, the dinosaurs eggs you all eat were even selected by me.

As the saying goes, a direct approach defeats a tsundere. Compared to Mordred, who had discarded all shame, the Emperor still cared about his image, desperately trying to shake off this disgraceful lump, but he just couldn't get him off.

"Let go of me."

"I won't! I've heard that Fulgrim, who returned at the same time as me, got so much stuff his hands went soft. You at least have to cough up some gold for me, or else I'll go join..."

"Bang!"

A crisp sound echoed through the Ship Cabin as a heavy slap landed on Mordred's head, cutting off his suicidal remarks.

Eyes met, and under the Emperor's warning gaze, Mordred suddenly Realized why Old Man Huang said he was special, and he hurriedly shut his mouth.

"Do not mention those nonsensical things. Vulkan is innocent; you wouldn't want him to be watched by those few pieces of trash, would you?"

"Father, what are you talking about?" Vulkan, who was already sitting at a table with the dog, asked.

"Eat your food!"

"Alrighty."

"As for you?" The Emperor's mouth twitched. He also Realized his current state was off; it must have been the result of beating this Rebellious son, which had left him overly emotional.

"Malcador has already had people craft weapons suitable for you. They are currently in the Phantasmal Dream treasury. Come with me, and Vulkan, there is a share for you in there as well."

Following the Emperor's footsteps, the group wound through various paths. After passing through several mind-boggling defensive measures, they finally arrived before an inconspicuous wooden door, decorated with a giant wooden cross.

"Could it be? Is this the one Ye Ge used to dry cured meat?"

The Emperor Nodded, offering no further explanation, and casually pushed open the treasury door.

The first thing to catch their eyes was a pitch-black corridor, surrounded by humming Stasis Field units, with countless rare treasures placed within.

Mordred even spotted an intact mechanical humanoid, engraved with the Dar Company logo he had seen back home.

"Don't look at it. This is an Automatons I captured during the Unification Wars; it is, in the true sense, an Abominable Intelligence."

As a fellow immortal who had experienced the 3k Era, the Emperor knew exactly what Mordred was thinking the moment he twitched, but the problem was that this path had already been proven impassable.

"Then what is the logo on this Abominable Intelligence? I saw it on a Serene World, and only then did I realize my hometown was a zoo from the Dark Age of Technology."

Following Mordred's finger, the Emperor Looked Towards the letter mark, and a very distant memory flooded his mind:

"Dar Company was a Galactic Mega-corporation that encompassed military, entertainment, and material development, and was highly integrated with the Federal Fleet.

The weapons they manufactured were sturdy and durable, even becoming the standard-issue weapons for the Federal military at one point. They, along with Hyperion, Tediore, Jakobs, and Torgue, divided the entire Federation's weapon manufacturing. As for what happened later..."

The Emperor did not continue. There was no need to guess what happened; it was nothing more than the Iron Men Rebellion, disappearing completely in one civil war after another that tore the stars apart, eventually becoming echoes hidden in the long river of history.

At this moment, the Emperor acted out of character. Perhaps these ancient relics reminded him of his distant memories as an immortal; whenever the two asked questions, he answered them one by one.

The group walked and stopped, much like a real father and son out for a stroll, and soon arrived before a shelf.

At the very bottom was a suit of Power Armor. As a researcher who had become addicted to knowledge, Mordred recognized the prototype of this armor at a glance; it was undoubtedly the Ironclad Terminator Armor, beloved by the soldiers of the Imperium.

However, this suit of armor was taller, forged from adamantine combined with various unknown metals. The overall color scheme was black, but the green fluorescence pulsing like blood vessels on the armor's surface betrayed its true nature.

Undoubtedly, this was a suit of armor utilizing Necron Technology, but Mordred didn't care about that. He took a liking to it immediately, simply because the armor was incredibly cool, and it even had two horns on the head—it suited his taste perfectly.

Since he had the armor, weapons were a must, but it was a pity that this old man, the Emperor, didn't understand the human heart and had no idea what Mordred was good at using.

Finally, unable to bear the Rebellious son's longing gaze any longer, the Emperor pointed to a weapon rack and told him to pick for himself.

To be honest, upon seeing so many good treasures, Mordred's first thought wasn't to pick, but to pack up the entire shelf and take it away.

But thinking that if he really did that, he would likely be pinned to the ground by Old Man Huang and beaten repeatedly, ending up with nothing at all, Mordred could only honestly go over to choose.

With an excited heart and trembling hands, a giant greatsword caught Mordred's attention. Compared to a knight's two-handed sword, this thing looked more like a Great Cleaver ground from a leg bone, full of ruggedness, with a skull embedded in it.

What was even better was that while other weapons were singular, this one was a "buy one get one free" deal, coming with a pistol, which fit his identity as a righteous knight perfectly.

Without any hesitation, Mordred chose this war blade, and even gave it a name—Ashen Herald.

As for that Plasma Pistol, he called it Ambition!