Alas! It's Already Full.

It is no wonder the Emperor cursed; given Mordred's current state, calling him a monster would be a compliment. He was nothing more than a lump of distorted, irregular flesh.

Even an alien is at least a biological entity, where one can guess where to aim a bolter at a glance. Yet, after searching, the Emperor could not even find a face amidst the mass of flesh covered in eyeballs, teeth, bone spurs, and hair.

"When did he become like this? Brian Haig." The Emperor asked.

"Five days ago, ever since we entered the Warp again, Father began to mutate violently. It only stopped once we reached Serenity."

Brian's tone was full of worry. As the leader of the Black Knights, he could only watch his Primarch suffer without being able to help. A deep sense of powerlessness forced him to place his hope in the Emperor, completely forgetting his previous experience of cursing the Emperor for not acting like a monarch.

However, although the Emperor was relatively human-like, he was quite reliable at critical moments. After a rough examination, he waved his hand, indicating that this was a minor issue—the Silly one had simply overeaten.

But before everyone could breathe a sigh of relief, the Emperor issued a baffling order:

"Go and bring me Mordred's Watermelon Knife."

"Watermelon Knife?" Brian seemed to understand, but it seemed unlikely.

"The Great Cleaver that this dog brought back from my treasury. A blade! The big knife used for chopping people."

It is no wonder Brian was highly valued by Mordred. Upon realizing the Watermelon Knife the Emperor referred to was the Ashen Herald, his first thought was not to fetch it, but to stubbornly retort:

"Your Majesty, that is not a Watermelon Knife; it is clearly a greatsword."

The Emperor remained silent. He did not understand why the little one before him had to correct this. Had he lived for over thirty thousand years in vain, unable to distinguish a sword from a knife?

Yet Brian acted as if he had gone mad, continuing to cite examples to prove it was a sword that just looked like a knife, making the Emperor's Eyelids Twitched.

This reminded him of the offspring he had just discovered; this suffocating tone was exactly the same, angering him enough to slap Mordred.

"Ugh~"

"There is an old saying on Terra: those who know the times are heroes. I will give you one more chance to organize your words. Tell me, what is it?"

"Your Majesty, I will go get you the Watermelon Knife right away. I guarantee I will complete the mission."

Watching Brian disappear in a flash, the Emperor Looked Towards Mordred lying on the Operating Table again. Seeing no one else around, he quietly took a gemstone out of his lab coat pocket.

But after thinking for a moment, the Emperor put the gemstone back and replaced it with a Lighter with a Radiant Gold casing, fiddling with it in his hand.

Soon, Brian ran back carrying the Watermelon Knife, and quite abstractly, brought a watermelon along—a chilled one at that.

Taking the Great Cleaver, under Brian's puzzled gaze, the Emperor wielded the giant blade with dazzling skill, cutting out eight perfectly divided pieces of watermelon, and incidentally stabbed the blade into Mordred.

Squelch.

"(＃°Д°) Ah? Your Majesty, what are you doing?"

Brian did not understand the Emperor's behavior, but the Golden Giant signaled him to stay calm. As a streak of Psychic Power flashed before Brian's eyes, he found that the whole world had changed.

"See that? Mordred, that idiot, made himself like this. Heaven Knows how he ended up in that hellhole and drank that Nurgle's Soup. It's a miracle he wasn't killed by it."

Listening to the Emperor's explanation, Brian indeed discovered the problem with his Primarch. Just like the watermelon he had brought, Mordred's entire body was a sickly green, emitting a disgusting, turbid green light that made one think of a Septic Tank.

"But he wasn't mutated when we first found Father. Could it be that the... ah, no, that the soup was poisonous?"

For a Canned One who had not realized the nature of Warp corruption, Brian's reaction was already quite calm. He was using his own understanding to interpret the scene, but the Emperor ruthlessly shattered his self-deception.

"No, even that fatty wouldn't hurt Mordred right now. After all, we are still collaborators. As I said, it's because of this dog's own doing."

Having said that, the Emperor picked up a piece of watermelon and took a bite, saying while eating:

"Your Primarch, who drank himself stupid, was brought into the Warp while in an unconscious state. It's like an Ant Cow falling into a Hive City; he was indiscriminate, crazily devouring Warp snacks."

"This is why I didn't let him participate in the Great Crusade early on. After all, someone who has Gone Mad with hunger cannot control their appetite."

"But I really couldn't imagine that this dog could eat himself half to death. There's no one else like him."

Listening to this Riddler-like speech, Brian immediately thought of that unlucky Demon Xil. It seemed their legion's little secrets could not be hidden after all.

But something even more absurd followed. Without giving Brian any time to react, a genuine greatsword was pulled out of thin air by the Emperor and placed into the hands of the terrified Canned One, who was anxious about the leaked secret.

"Your Primarch's symptoms are, to put it bluntly, indigestion. To accelerate his digestion and return to normal, he needs external help. So, for the sake of your Father, hurry up and use the Emperor's Sword on him."

For the sake of his Primarch's speedy recovery, Brian didn't care about the method. Let alone hacking him with a sword, they had even used a Blast with Lance on their Father before—and they had done it twice!

Soon, confusing slapping sounds rang out from the Laboratory, leaving everyone outside puzzled. The Space Marines of Atlas even heard the strange sound of a Rodent gnawing on fruit.

On the Operating Table, Brian was drenched in sweat, hacking at his old Father with sword after sword. Under the table, the Golden Giant was eating watermelon frantically, sighing that the black soil of Serenity was indeed nourishing.

With Brian's vigorous hacking, Mordred gradually ignited with flames. Driven by the Emperor's power that incinerated all things, those filthy forces were decomposed one by one, eventually flowing into the increasingly ferocious Ashen Herald.

As for the things that were very difficult to digest, they were regurgitated by Mordred during the beating: a strange Skull without a jaw, a handful of Feathers, Metal Shards, and even several pieces of Triangular Fabric that were clearly not right.

It made Brian start to doubt his life, wondering what kind of ghosts these were.

After a full forty-nine minutes of "Ora-ora-ing," Mordred finally returned to his human form. After a series of crazy hiccups, he suddenly opened his eyes, and then, he saw his good son wielding a greatsword toward his neck.

"Damn it, Brian, what are you doing? Old Man Huang, why are you just watching?"

Knowing that nothing good would come out of this dog's mouth, the Emperor stepped up and gave him a slap, grabbing the Little Blondie by the hair and hauling Mordred up.

"You Rebellious son, why didn't you drink yourself to death?" Perhaps thinking of something happy, the Emperor leaned into Mordred's ear with a lecherous look and whispered:

"How was it? Was the Nurgle's Soup delicious?"

Hearing this, Mordred's pupils dilated instantly, his complexion changing faster than a camera flash. He jammed his fingers into his throat and gagged violently, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring anything up. Finally, he burst into tears:

"No!!!! You fat bastard, I will never stand with you!"