The Strongest Man in the World

As we all know, it's impossible to definitively say who has the Combat Power across different works.

You have your Getter Emperor, I have my Creation Gundam, and there's also the Magnetic Field Maniac next door. If you get involved with the M78 Black and Evil Forces Gang, it might bring you some unexpected surprises.

Just posting "Sweet rice dumplings are great, savory rice dumplings are trash" on a forum would generate hundreds of posts and the argument wouldn't end.

But what everyone agrees on is that, no matter what perspective you take, you should never Combat Power a comedic character.

As an abstract and comedic character with impressive stats and mechanics, Mordred, stuck on the path to godhood and still confined to the Physical World, is undoubtedly the strongest.

Of course, this claim of being the strongest is definitely exaggerated, after all, there's an Outsider outside the Milky Way, who is a true-blue Cosmic Star God.

Let alone the demigod who was repeatedly rubbing the steps with a hook, even Warp Chaos God wouldn't dare to easily provoke this fully-formed C'tan who had fallen into a state of madness and self-isolation.

But with the Four Merchants' backyard on fire and their power restricted by the dimensional barrier, Mordred, this half-baked god, truly became the Big Daddy of everyone present.

As for the Emperor, needless to say, without the Black Sun's support, he was just an ordinary, unremarkable Psychic Power giant who could hold his own against the Four Merchants with his own Psychic Power.

Dragged along by the Void Dragon's tail and the Dog-men's undead, Mordred's willpower struggled fiercely, but his body disagreed, only able to let out occasional howls.

The Black King's power flowed into it, stirring Mordred's instinctive hatred. If he could complete his ascension, he would have the opportunity to complete himself and finally leave this disgusting cesspool.

The desire-wanderer named Mordred harbored utter hatred, loathing everything in this world. This damned cesspool should not be its final resting place. It hated the incompleteness of the being named Mordred, and it also hated the illusion that had bound it until now.

This hatred transcends everything; it only wants to return to its homeland, only wants to be free from its constraints. What's wrong with that?

"I've been imprisoned for 200 years, and you actually want me to go back to that cage!"

Mordred's 5,555 Great Maw Roared simultaneously, shattering everyone's sanity, while its 55,555 eyeballs spewed forth emerald death rays, scorching everything in sight with Fel Energy.

The first Roared overloaded the Void Shield arrays of all the warships.

The second Roared caused the Warp tides to condense into emerald-green Chaos Energy Crystal.

The third Roared shattered the sanity of countless Auxilia, turning them into a puddle of mud amidst the mutation of flesh and blood.

Pairs of hands covered in metal armor emerged from the armor, their identities identified by red and black "A "Character Mark.

Under the pressure of the dimensional barrier, Atlas, who had already merged with Mordred, once again crawled out of the abyss.

This is Mordred's offspring, Greater Daemon who is also Chaos God, and on his flesh and blood home planet, a slender warship as elegant as a black swan flies out.

Behind the Abomination were the Atlas fleets that should have crashed but were instead resurrected.

These steel creations that crawled out of Mordred's body were completely corrupted, and their Roared, enraged Machine Spirit protected their master with utterly unreasonable and ferocious firepower.

This is Mordred's weakest moment; he cannot summon the Burning Legion as freely as he can in the Warp. Yet, it is also his strongest moment.

As the ultimate trump card, these 79,278 Atlas are all genuine Greater Daemon without exception. To defeat Mordred, one must overcome the obstacles posed by these Greater Daemons.

Faced with this sudden outburst of rage, the Four Merchants had no choice but to stand firmly in front of the human Allied Forces.

Red, green, blue, and purple light were poured into humanity, bestowing upon these mortal warriors a blessing that would prevent the Chaos God from destroying their sanity.

Although it sounds strange, it is true. With the protection of the Four Gods, the human Allied Forces finally had a chance to fight back.

At this moment, all Primarchs chose the same tactic: boarding!

In a firepower battle, the human Allied Forces is no match for this relentless behemoth of flesh and blood. Only by closing the distance and breaking through the blockade can they have a sliver of hope.

Because Mordred's Roared destroyed the Iron Blood's observation and aiming equipment, Perturabo could only lie inside the Macro Cannon Gun Barrel and look out.

She saw a giant Khorne clad in heavy armor, slicing through flesh and tentacles with a massive blade, and a blue Djinn that constantly shifted, resembling both a bird and a slime monster, hurling fireballs.

And then there was that beautiful woman, like a dancer, weaving through the Obscurus Sector, dreamlike purple mist, her serpentine tail swaying and her tentacles tearing at her flesh.

With just a glance, Perturabo felt her heart pounding; she couldn't help but think that the woman looked so much like her sister.

However, the green, fat guy next to them was a bit of an eyesore, but he was also the most efficient one, frantically banging down on every tentacle that approached them with his spoon.

And besides these four figures, there was also her father, the Emperor.

Naval cannons roared, firing hundreds of millions of tons of shells every second; Radiant Light Spear illuminated the starry sky; and the blazing, deep blue Plasma never overheated.

As the distance drew ever closer, the first wave of impact finally arrived, with countless Emerald Meteor shooting out from the Abomination and crashing down on the Allied Forces ships.

The sounds of battle coming through the communication channel meant that Atlas had boarded their ships. Faced with these Greater Daemons, his offspring were powerless to resist. Perturabo knew it was time for him to make his move.

Even so, she issued the exact same command as all Primarch:

"Regardless of losses or costs, charge forward relentlessly! Do everything in our power to drop every single shell onto that flesh-and-blood planet."

Faced with the combined attack of 18 warlords, even though each Atlas possessed unparalleled bravery, they were still trapped and gradually advanced towards Mordred.

The most dazzling among them was not the First Legion, nor the most numerous Word Bearers, but rather the World Eaters led by Angron.

Having once destroyed his own home planet, Angron harbors a strange longing for the Exterminatus, but genuine Exterminatus, whether the economical Virus Bomb or the high-efficiency Cyclone Torpedo, are quite expensive.

Therefore, given Angron's choice, the World Eaters opted for a low-cost but economical Exterminatus: nuclear bombs.

After nearly a century of frenzied production, the World Eaters possesses a nuclear arsenal that can only be described as insane, and now it finally has a place to put it to use.

A fiery ball hotter than a star filled the void. Even Atlas, who had transformed into Greater Daemon, would have died instantly if he had taken a nuclear bomb to the face, and would have begun to return to Mordred's body to resurrect.

Seeing that the World Eaters had broken out of the encirclement, the other legions followed suit and chose to clear a path with nuclear explosions.

However, when the ships arrived above Mordred's orbit, neither cannonballs nor Lance, nor even the ever-effective Melta, could achieve effective damage.

Mordred is so big that no matter how they attack, they can't hurt its core.

The mountain of flesh and blood, which had just been burned to charcoal, would grow back after a few breaths. If one head was cut off, eight more would immediately grow back, making it even Hydra than Hydra.

Mordred, now reduced to a nebula of flesh and blood, was not afraid of being consumed. It didn't even have the vital points of a normal Lifeform; it could simply lie there and be beaten to death.

As for trying to use Warp magic to cheat, that's impossible; Mordred is completely immune to magical attacks.

This same predicament also befell the Emperor, who was utterly unable to rescue Mordred from the monstrous mass of flesh and blood.

Time was flying by. As the Silver Spear disintegrated little by little, Mordred's resistance grew weaker and weaker, making the once invincible Emperor feel powerless for the first time.

Perhaps sensing the Emperor's retreat, a large hand covered in red fur descended from the sky and slapped him hard across the face.

"What kind of look is that? What kind of expression is that? You actually want to abandon your own offspring!"

The Emperor finally broke down. "It was my son who died, not yours! Why the hell are you so agitated?" He grabbed his fist and punched.

Seeing the two still fighting amongst themselves, the three Divine Projection surprisingly became human and actually stepped forward to break them up:

"Forget it, forget it. We'll probably be sharing a trench in the future anyway. We're family now."

"Get lost, who the hell is related to you?"

"Exactly, who's family with you? Shut up, you fatso."

The rapidly dissipating Silver Spear was like a death warrant, slowly wearing down everyone's patience. But just when everyone was at their wits' end, Khorne suddenly ripped off his scarf.

Looking at the faded Wolf Claw Mark on the red scarf, the Khorne seemed to have made up his mind:

I have a plan!