I'll Purify Everything With My Butt

"Brothers, as the saying goes, a man can't die of thirst, and that's exactly what Old Man Huang is in right now. He's thirsty, hungry, and has to hold his urine; he's in the late stages of constipation. So, that's where we can start."

So you mean to say...?

"I know, I know, I used to be a doctor."

Guilliman, who was interrupted, was not annoyed. Since Sisyphus wanted to show off, he would give her the opportunity.

Seeing everyone looking at him, Sisyphus, who had a low profile, quite enjoyed the feeling of being the center of attention and said directly, "If you're constipated, you need to relieve yourself. We can turn Father over and stick a tube into his anus. And Second Brother, didn't you say he was thirsty?"

We can then --"

Guilliman was amused by Sisyphus's rather vivid description, and even the Lion King felt a headache coming on, secretly lamenting the misfortune of his family—how could such a fool be born among his brothers and sisters?

But the two soon realized something was wrong, because Mordred was nodding repeatedly, his eyes flashing with a rather gratified look. "What are you looking at? Although Sisyphus's words are completely nonsensical, that's roughly the idea. The words may be rough, but the meaning is sound."

Little sister, stop writing those erotic novels, that stuff isn't for you. Come study medicine with me. A pen can't save the empire, look how talented you are now.

However, it's not good to be praised too much at your age. Just consider yourself a little genius.

"Really?"

"Really!" Mordred declared. "You may not trust my integrity, but you must trust my skills. Jeanne has just finished high school; wouldn't it be wonderful if you two, two Sleeping Dragon Phoenix Chick, teamed up?"

"Come here, everyone, let me tell you about my grand plan."

Although there were only four listeners, there Zhuang Sen, who only knew how to kill but not how to use his brain; Guilliman, who only knew how to use his brain but not how to kill; Rambo, who not only couldn't kill but also borrowed someone else's brain; and Sisyphus, a simple-minded brute with all his strength.

But none of that matters. What's important to a band isn't the bassist, but their own extraordinary wisdom.

"Brothers, Sisyphus is right. Old Man Huang is like a reservoir about to explode, and he himself has been blown into a bunch of fish fry floating in it."

So now we have two methods. One is to release the pressure and disperse the excess energy in the Yellow Skins's body to prevent it from blowing itself up to death.

Another approach is grafting, which involves picking out the shattered fragments of Old Man Huang's soul and using artificial intervention to alleviate his increasingly severe schizophrenia.

But I chose to take a two-pronged approach: relieving his stress on one hand and breaking down the fragments of his soul on the other, since only I could withstand that kind of mental pollution.

Therefore, Guilliman.

"Arrive!"

"Good, very energetic!" Mordred patted his good friend on the shoulder and instructed, "Your task is to mix a batch of Peanut Butter, preferably chocolate flavored. I'll give you a list of the remaining ingredients; just find them according to this list."

As for Zhuang Sen...

"Speak," Mordred extended his left hand, Emerald Lightning flashing, and handed a Chaos Energy Crystal to Zhuang Sen: "This is the key to the Abomination. Those idiots have dragged this out until now, and I can't stand it anymore. You have to help me bring the flagship back; I need the key items on it."

"And while you're at it, kill all those people. A large number of sacrifices are also necessary. Since they don't know gratitude, let them be grateful in their next life. As for you..."

Mordred reached out a third hand and rubbed Sisyphus's little head. "Your task is the most difficult. First, go and acknowledge the Soul Drinkers as relatives, then take them to bake me 131,313 flatbreads. Remember to add plenty of onions; the Yellow Skins love onions the most."

"Then what are you doing, Second Brother?"

Mordred rubbed his chin with his fourth hand, glanced at the Old Man Huang beside him who was now just a skeleton, examined him for a long time, and finally flicked his tail to cut off a little finger bone. "I'm going to perform gene modification to bring back the perfect human form of the Emperor Spirit."

Although each Primarch was incredibly arrogant, believing themselves to be superior to 80% of their brothers and among the top of the remaining 20%, they still respected Mordred's arrangements.

After all, his battle record is verifiable. Second Brother Mordred is the only Imperial veterinarian among the Primarchs. He not only excels at Blasphemous Technology but is also a frequent visitor to the Warp. He has consumed more Daemon than they have ever seen, so performing a blasphemous ritual is a piece of cake for him.

With the Abomination not by her side, Mordred could only use the underground research facility deep within the Imperial Palace to cultivate a new generation of Emperor Spirit by replicating past technologies.

Having learned from the previous experience, the Emperor Spirit in the second round of the experiment did not simply copy the previous one. Instead, it incorporated existing experience and made some improvements, especially in terms of vitality and mental resistance.

But what pleased Mordred most was that he had successfully reconstructed the Emperor Spirit's genetic code, adding some of his own ideas. The general effect was that the second-generation Emperor Spirit could float using weak Psychic Power and release electric currents to attack targets, becoming a veritable electric rat.

As for why Mordred made this improvement, it's obviously because of that damned Sanguinius.

Guilliman's defenses crumbled upon seeing the Sanguinius after waking up, Mordred's defenses crumbled upon seeing that thing, and it could be said that anyone who experienced the Great Crusade would crumble upon seeing it.

Even if the Sanguinius weren't actually created from infant corpses but were artificially bred, they're still incredibly disgusting and unattractive; they only evoke horror.

As for why the Imperial Cult doesn't use real babies as Sanguinius, it's definitely not because they're rational, but because the strength isn't enough. How can a natural baby be as robust as an artificially bred one?

Taking this opportunity, Mordred's idea was to directly replace the Sanguinius with the Emperor Spirit. A big yellow rat flying in the sky is better than a dead child flying in the sky, and the Emperor Spirit looks round and fluffy, which is quite cute and will surely be well received.

Looking at the genetically engineered mouse before him, Mordred, the creator, roared, "Open your eyes! I am Mordred!"

"Squeak--Yes, yes, yes! I haven't let the Legion down, boss!"

"Good"

As a creation of Mordred, the genetically modified rat named Leo possesses all the characteristics of Atlas's creations: thick-skinned, strange in speech and behavior, somewhat silly in manner, and full of energy and prone to startling.

Most importantly, it was that look in his eyes—clear, intelligent, and imbued with the profound wisdom of the universe.

As a mouse who inherits the Mordred's Ideology, Leo is not perfect. Even though he passed all of Mordred's tests at birth, he still has a quirk: he likes to drive jeeps.

But no one is perfect, and no rat is perfect either. Mordred was quite satisfied with Leo's performance and immediately began mass breeding, producing half male and half female rats to ensure the continuation of the species. He even took the time to make a small jeep for it to play with.

Everything was ready except for the final push. While Mordred was busy with the little Xenos, Guilliman had already prepared a full 1,300 tons of Peanut Butter, and Sisyphus, amidst the grinning cheers of the Soul Drinkers, led his offspring in baking pancakes.

As expected, Zhuang Sen had already screened out all the Terra officials through the continuous Great Purge. When the Lion King arrived with the Dark Angels, looking fierce and menacing, the Department of Justice immediately knelt down.

Ten thousand years later, when the Black Ship of the Abomination descended upon Terra once more, all the Atlas looked up at the sky, gazing upon this long-lost Legion Flagship, even though they had never met before.

If the Invincible Truth is a lion with its teeth bared, Glory of Macragge is a graceful lady, then Abomination is a jubilant Orca.

Its highly automated internal structure, various weapons covering its entire body, and thick, reliable armor achieve a perfect balance between defense, firepower, and speed.

The only drawback is that the bow of the Abomination has a crack, through which steel tentacles move in and out, and countless Daemon corpses are scattered all over its body. There is even a Void Whale skeleton stuck on the ship, making it look like a living creature from the Warp, which is a bit creepy.

But none of that matters. To outsiders, the Abomination than Chaos ship, but to Atlas, it was incredibly cool. But now was not the time to revisit the place. With the key provided by Mordred, the Lion King led the Dark Angels to escort a device filled with Chaos Energy Corruption out of the Abomination's cargo hold.

And this is precisely the core material of the Yellow Skins treatment plan – Black Glaze.

Without any delay, through the Mind Network, 8,765 Atlas, united as one, were coordinated and assembled by Mordred to complete the installation of the sister toilet to the Golden Toilet and connect it to the Golden Toilet.

Through pipelines, one Emperor Spirit after another is reconnected, serving as Psychic Power battery for Emperor power and a container for soul fragments.

For some reason, although he had proposed the plan himself and assembled all the devices himself, Mordred felt a little uneasy at the last moment.

He used to eat snow like crazy on this Black Glaze, and now he wants to eat it again, making himself look like a cesspool.

"Second Son, are you ready?"

"I'm ready!"

Without saying a word, Zhuang Sen pulled the large, Red Lever. A blinding golden light swept in, and countless streams of immense Psychic Power poured into Mordred's body through the Black Glaze, then purified a second time and directed towards the Emperor Spirit.

"Quack- Use my ass to purify everything! Keep going, I can fit even more in."