Good cub, Father is here to find you!

As one of the 21 offspring created by the Emperor, every Primarch possesses a powerful and formidable physique, with a fighting spirit and endurance that are truly breathtaking.

Take Mordred, for instance; he possesses a physical strength that borders on the metaphysical, along with a terrifying vitality akin to a biochemical monster. As long as there is an energy supply, he can rapidly regenerate even if half his body is blown to bits, and he can survive even by eating dirt—his resilience is simply unreasonable.

However, that is merely his physical stat block; every Primarch has their own unique "hardcore" talent, and Mordred is no exception.

Through various self-tests, Mordred discovered he possesses a charm ability that exceeds normal parameters, much like a humanoid succubus, capable of randomly spawning brain-dead fanboys in his vicinity.

The mechanism of this ability is quite metaphysical, and even after a dozen years, Mordred still cannot fathom it. He believes his ability seems related to the brain; the simpler the creature, the less it is affected, such as the dim-witted Ogryn and the Dog-men who excel at slacking off and rotting away.

And this is precisely why, after gaining self-control over his ability, Mordred only likes to hang around with Ogryn and Dog-men. As for other abilities, Mordred has yet to discover any.

But what does having a special ability matter? At this point in 30K, the Imperial Truth is in full swing. Even if it isn't the absolute cesspit of the 40K era, even a Primarch like Mordred is merely a high-level pawn in a galaxy set against the backdrop of a sea of stars.

Unless Mordred can transform into a Magnetic Field Martial God, punching a Little Trash with every blow and shattering the entire Great Dao, he had better stay wherever it's cool! It would be better to just wait for the "Yellow Skins" return gift package.

"So Boss, is this why you always make us do the work while you slack off?"

Having received a new weapon, Rambo sighed with his dog mouth and shoved his butt directly into the sofa. He thought to himself that he must have been blind to recognize such a master; every day it was either unclogging toilets or acting as a manual laborer, making it seem like he was the master:

"Boss, don't you want to take revenge?"

"Nonsense, haven't I already developed new weapons? Do you expect me to go one-on-one with that group of monsters alone? It's not that I don't want to; it's that I can't beat them."

Once these words were out, even Rambo couldn't help but sigh. He touched his half-severed dog ear and collapsed completely into the sofa.

As two columns of smoke rose, the master and servant remained silent, both recalling the crushing defeat from a year ago.

As a young man of ambition who once pointed out the flaws of the world in the dormitory after lights out—a conversation that would have gotten him executed—Mordred had not failed to attempt great things after coming to this world. He had tried, but it had ended halfway through.

After taking on the heavy responsibility of chieftain, Mordred led the Dog-men to conquer in all directions. Relying on the formidable armies of Dog-men and Ogryn, he directly unified the various tribes of the grasslands and learned the location of another continent from the humans on the edge of the plains.

But just as he had a guide lead him across the grasslands to conquer the other half of the continent through that primeval jungle, an accident occurred.

In that dense primeval jungle, the Atlas Expeditionary Force witnessed all sorts of bizarre creatures: bloodthirsty mosquito swarms as large as roosters; toads that looked cute but could blow up half a hill; and even giant Mushroom Folk standing ten meters tall, flickering with golden electric light, capable of flattening a main battle tank with a single punch.

And this was only the beginning of the nightmare. After suffering heavy losses and charging out of the jungle, the expeditionary force finally reached its target.

As Far as the Eye Can See, there were only various discarded steel wrecks. Half a continental plate had been completely torn apart, as if a cruel war had taken place here before. The Mega-Hive in the distance had been smashed and was entirely covered in green vegetation.

Only one pink castle remained relatively intact, standing alone in front of the ruins, blocking the only entrance.

To investigate what had happened here, Mordred led a portion of his soldiers and the guide to scout.

But when they bypassed the castle and approached the only entrance, Mordred saw two giant buttons, one red and one green. After a brief moment of thought, Mordred decided not to press either—he climbed the wall directly!

However, it was already too late. Accompanied by a shrill red alarm, dense swarms of broken robots rushed out from the entrance, attacking wildly in every direction.

After hacking one enemy to pieces, Mordred finally understood what had happened in this godforsaken place: this was an Ancient Battlefield where the Iron Men Rebellion had once erupted.

Even so, relying on heavy plate armor and large-caliber gunpowder weapons, the group was not without the power to fight back against these dilapidated machines that were starting to grow grass on their bodies. They fought while retreating and managed to charge out, and then the most ridiculous thing happened.

Just as the expeditionary force thought they had Escaped with Their Lives, the castle next to them suddenly stood up. It wasn't a castle at all—it was a Titan with its lower half buried in the dirt!!

Whenever he recalled this, Mordred felt like he had lost his mind. Why on earth had he had a brain fart and gone to fight a Titan one-on-one?

In the very end, Mordred, with half his body melted, was carried out on Rambo's back. The vanguard was completely wiped out, and the few remaining troops were chased like dogs under artillery fire, only able to sheepishly escort their Boss to retreat.

"So you see, it's not that I'm slacking off, it's that I really can't beat them! Any other knight would do, but you're asking me to fight a Titan one-on-one right out of the gate? Are you joking?"

Hearing his Boss admit he couldn't win, Rambo felt a wave of discouragement, and his dog tail drooped down.

"Then is there no other way? Use your world-shaking wisdom! Boss, you promised Old Thomas that you would make the Dog-men great again."

Flicking away the cigarette butt, Mordred waved his hand, signaling his capable lieutenant to follow; he had something good to show it.

Following Mordred into the workshop, what came into view was a giant Ship Cabin assembled from scrap metal. Above the cabin was a patched, cigar-shaped gasbag, with a crooked smiley face painted on the top, looking indescribably comical.

"What is this?"

"Good question. I love that look of ignorance on your face. This thing is the secret weapon that will let us wash away our shame. I call it the Kirov Airship.

Don't ask what an airship is; you just need to know that we can use this thing to air-drop into that Titan.

Through our last failure, I discovered that those robots are very strange. They have no autonomous consciousness at all—or perhaps those Iron Men are on the verge of collapse and only mechanically execute their former orders."

"Boss, you mean?" Mordred Nodded and continued to explain:

"While you were unclogging toilets for others these past six months, I already sent people to scout with small airships. As long as we don't make any aggressive moves, we won't trigger the alarms. We can completely carry out a boarding action and solve this trouble from the inside.

As for the rest, relying on the knock-off bolter weapons I've recently developed, we can slowly clear out those Abominable Intelligence. The advantage is with me!

So, do you know what you need to do now? Hurry up and call all the Dog-men over to get to work. Do you expect me to make weapons for the entire tribe by myself?"

"Should I summon the Ogryn?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Rambo consciously shut his dog mouth. Before Mordred could start ranting, he hurriedly ran out; after all, asking an Ogryn to operate a machine tool was less effective than praying they would learn to fix a toilet themselves.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the sector where the Serene World was located, a human fleet jumped out from Mandeville Point. In the golden giant ship at the lead, a Golden Giant frowned as he looked at the Holographic Projection before him; he hated making choices the most.

Two planets were highlighted. One of the worlds would contain his offspring. After a brief moment of thought, the Golden Giant decided to choose neither and began searching from the jungle world next to it.

"Catachan, a good name!"