Come On, My Galamwood Save (4k)

Being able to eat is a blessing; don't be picky about food when eating—these are words we've always taught children.

After all, being well-fed is the most basic human pursuit and a necessary condition for the survival of every living being, but for the Emperor at this moment, he simply couldn't eat anymore.

Since the Yellow Skins was unable to move, Mordred imitated the farms of various livestock industries and handcrafted a hand-cranked feeding device.

This thing is quite simple in construction. The top is a hand-cranked meat grinder, and the bottom is a pressure hose. As long as you put the hose into the Yellow Skins's mouth, you can put food into the feed inlet and mechanically pressurize it by hand-cranking it to pump the meat paste into the Old Man Huang's body.

The procedure is similar to an enema, except instead of anus, it's the mouth that gets filled!

"Ugh~ Ah! Waaaaah----"

Seeing His Majesty weeping bitterly, the three Adeptus Custodes felt quite remorseful, thinking they had not been hospitable enough. They quickly brought a napkin and wiped the dandruff and oil stains from the Emperor's face.

"Your His Majesty, please calm down. The Great Commander has already told us that you are currently in the recovery period and need to consume sufficient nutrients. This is your favorite fried chicken, please have some more."

"Roll!"

"What? Your His Majesty, are you thirsty? I'll get you some water right away."

The Adeptus Custodes is like the Space Marine of the various Legions; to them, the Emperor is equivalent to their Primarch.

There is a kind of love called children thinking you haven't eaten enough. However, although this Yellow Skins is conscious, he cannot move freely, and there are a group of Primarch here to supervise him. If he still had any other way, he wouldn't have ended up like this.

They said they were fetching water, but in the eyes of the Adeptus Custodes, drinking water was not as nutritious as drinking a glass of wheat juice. After all, we old Terra people have nothing else to offer but this, and it's the real deal.

As two 50-liter containers of wheat juice were poured into the feeder, and the bubbly liquid was slowly pumped into the stomach, the great Master of Mankind predictably began to foam.

"Stop! The bonus period is over, everyone leave."

"Hey ha, I haven't let the Great Commander down!"

Looking at the Yellow Skins, who had transformed from a beautiful and charming dark-skinned hottie into a defeated figure with a swollen belly, foaming at the mouth, and rolling her eyes, Mordred felt no pity whatsoever; in fact, she felt a little amused.

Under the somewhat reluctant gazes of the other Primarchs, Mordred led them to the front of the stage, pointed at the Yellow Skins, and questioned, "Stop pretending. You can fool others, but you can't fool me. I'm giving you one last chance. Do you have anything to say?"

"Second Son, do you still remember what happened in the past? Look, I've kept your laurel wreath all this time."

A laurel wreath appeared in the Emperor's hands. It was the same gift the Emperor had given Mordred when he served as a Warmaster, and the silver laurel wreath he had thrown away in Nikaea when his brothers questioned him.

Upon seeing this item, Mordred couldn't help but recall the days of the Great Crusade.

At that time, he was still very young, with an inexhaustible drive. He and the Emperor played the roles of good cop and bad cop, one in charge of external affairs and the other in charge of internal affairs.

While the Emperor was away on campaigns, he went out to search for the lost Primarchs and managed the legion's logistics impeccably. Although it lasted only 30 years, it was the 30 years of Atlas's fastest development and the period of the Empire's fastest conquest.

Over the past 30 years, Mordred has truly regarded the Emperor as a friend, an elder, and a like-minded partner, despite their many problems.

Together they built the Daemon Engine on the Abomination, created the first generation of Enchanted Warrior on Atlas, rebuilt the shattered Angron, and designed and developed the new race of Lizardmen.

Those were the happiest times, the most carefree moments, but all of that is gone forever.

"Don't try to appeal to my emotions, it won't work!" Although that's what she said, Mordred still couldn't help but put the laurel wreath in her pocket, and gave herself the excuse that it was quite valuable and she shouldn't refuse it.

"Yellow Skins, how many times have I told you? How many times have I advised you? It's not just me who's said it, Malcador said it, Valdor said it, but have you changed your ways?"

"If you were even slightly more human, you wouldn't have ended up like this. Do you think you're some kind of child who needs us all to pamper you? Do you really think we don't have tempers?"

"I was wrong!"

"So where did you go wrong?"

Looking at Mordred staring intently at him, and at his offspring standing silently beside him, the human named Neos, born around 8000 BC near the Sakarya River in Anatolian Peninsula, fell silent.

As a Perpetual and a Psychic Power giant with unparalleled power, Neos has many titles: Emperor, Old Emperor, Chaos Calamity, Big E, Xenos Terminator, Augustus, Caesar, Progenitor, Allfather, Omnissiah, Prophet, Commorragh VIP Member. However, among these titles, there is not a single one: Father.

Degrees can be graded, and skills can be certified, but parenthood cannot be assessed. Everyone is born a child, and how to become a parent is something that can only be learned by oneself.

But Neos's life was incomplete, and even the name Neos was not the Emperor's original name. That original name had long since faded with time, along with his parents, whose identities had become blurred, and were now buried deep in the Emperor's memory.

For Emperor's long life, his childhood was pitifully short, not to mention the memories of being raised by his parents; he had no idea how to raise children.

When faced with something incomprehensible, the Emperor would choose to skip it and solve everything with his invincible Psionic Power.

What if my younger brother objects to me? I'll use my charm! What if my friends distance themselves from me? I'll use my charm again! If I really can't handle it, I'll just start a new playthrough.

Calling him the Emperor Yellow Skins is no exaggeration. His charm has a natural effect on humans, and his image is different in everyone's eyes. It's not that he eats for free; he eats other people's food and they have to pay him back, and they do it willingly.

In this atmosphere where the whole world revolves around him, the Yellow Skins's emotional intelligence is shockingly low, but his Psionic Power makes up for it; anyone who sees him has to pass a charm test first.

He genuinely didn't know how to answer the question, so upon realizing his little trick had been exposed, he immediately chose to skip the plot and go through the seduction process first.

The problem is that while the Emperor might feel good doing this, the ultimate result of constantly skipping the plot is that he's skipping life itself.

But that's not the main reason. The main reason is that Mordred is immune to charm.

Each Primarch inherited one of the Emperor's traits, and Mordred inherited his charm, though it wasn't as pronounced as the numerical value because of her poor fashion sense and eccentric behavior.

Strangely enough, the Primarch's upbringing and personality traits were completely different from what was advertised.

This ability to create a thousand Thousand Faces is truly better suited to Mordred than to Fulgrim, and Fulgrim's pursuit of luxury and perfection is actually best matched with Chagoris.

Despite his somewhat Khan, the Khan was raised in luxury as a child. As the son of the Khan, he had a basket full of gold necklaces and precious stones, a far cry from the resource-scarce environment of Chemos.

Such situations are commonplace. If the Lion King had taken Koz's script, the Nostramo people would be ecstatic, and Zhuang Sen wouldn't have gone mad. Would a lion feel guilty for killing a few ants today?

Aside from one Ambition, the Primarchs generally didn't have good upbringing. They rarely had both parents, let alone expensive adoptive fathers. Mordred's adoptive father was a dog, and this also included Perturabo.

Olympia is indeed a problematic place. Putting aside why the Mortarion could see the Eye of Terror in the Misty Sector from Olympia, just looking at the people, everyone in Olympia is a dualistic being, and Perturabo's adoptive father is also a mute.

With the combination of blood ties and personality flaws, every Primarch craves his father's approval, which is why Horus is so concerned about the Gold Ring on his hand.

So much so that when Russ was discovered, in order to exclusively enjoy his father's favor, Horus even considered issuing Exterminatus against Fenris.

We're laughing at the joke, not at the person. While Horus may have a bit of an Oedipus complex, no one is perfect, and in terms of personal morality, Horus truly deserves the title of the First Returned Son.

Moreover, it's not just Horus; almost every Primarch is a gravity-based boy (or girl). The underlying logic of "I love my father, and I love my mother, and I love my mother" has spread throughout the Empire along with the genes of the Emperor and Eldar.

In this situation, if the Emperor were even a little more eloquent, not to mention having the emotional intelligence of the King of Zhongshan, even if he replaced Rambo with the dog and let him speak, it would still be a normal family with a loving father and filial son.

Guilliman's gaze Ambition, Mortarion's was calm, Zhuang Sen's was open and honest, Luojia turned his head away and looked at Mordred.

And Mordred?

The Emperor had to admit that even he couldn't glean any useful information from that wise gaze—the one with the left eye on guard duty and the right eye on watch—but he could see himself in those golden pupils, a reflection of himself in Mordred's eyes.

He didn't have a towering 5-meter-tall, robust body, nor any invincible Psionic Power; he was just an ordinary human being, a handsome little boy, the kind of person an Emperor had almost forgotten.

The Emperor couldn't understand why he was seen this way by Mordred. He was clearly the father, but in Mordred's eyes, he was just a little kid, not even an adult.

Unable to bewitch, unable to read minds, unable to distort, and unable to deceive, Mordred stood there like a high wall, staring at him, demanding an explanation.

The Emperor of ten thousand years ago was at least human, albeit a despicable one, but he still possessed humanity and had begun to transform into anthropomorphic beings. However, the current Emperor, even if he regained consciousness, was already shattered. After ten thousand years of erosion by faith, he was only holding on by a last breath.

A complete Emperor might be able to, but a broken God-Emperor lacks that emotional intelligence.

This was the first time in the Emperor's life that he had encountered such a problem. Everything he had relied on before was meaningless, and he couldn't even guess Mordred's thoughts.

If Mordred answered incorrectly, the Emperor believed she would actually abandon her post and join the Khorne, creating a dark empire.

This is why the Tzeentch Birdman admires Second Brother Mordred so much—an unpredictable and unstable factor, even more uncontrollable than Luo Ji in the eyes of the Trisolarans.

At this moment, the Emperor pondered many things, even observing countless different Timeline in search of answers, but all those Timeline were shrouded in mist. A sinister laugh echoed in his ears, as if saying, "You the Cursed, you've finally met your match! Seeing you so conflicted truly delights me!"

Time passed slowly, and the Emperor finally gave up, collapsing onto the Golden Throne. It was at this moment that he suddenly realized he had never really looked at Mordred closely.

Yes, that's right. Since Mordred and Eldar look almost identical, they are essentially the extra-large version.

This led to a complete falling out with Eldar after returning to the Empire. The Emperor had only carefully observed his Second Son 10,000 years ago, and had never seriously observed him since. Out of sight, out of mind, he was like a stranger to a familiar face.

A father who has only seen his offspring once in all these years, and has never even thought about what they look like, is something that would be completely impossible for any other normal person or creature, but it is the Emperor.

This time, the Emperor understood. His familiar yet unfamiliar face was filled with worry, doubt, confusion, and a kind of disappointment he had never encountered before.

"I was wrong. I'm not a Good Father. I treated myself and you all as tools. I've never seen a father's responsibilities. But I'm so tired. I just wanted to take a break. I really didn't think that much about it."

The Golden Throne rumbled, and the nearly black flames flickered with golden light. Amidst four terrified screams, after ten thousand years, the Emperor finally moved. He gathered everyone's hands, looked up, and pleaded, "Help my children, and join me on another Great Crusade."

"Second Brother, what do you think of this?"

"What? Guilliman, you ungrateful brat, why are you talking so much? Didn't you say your dad was King Konnor?"

"Second Son, maybe we should just forget about it."

"Zhuang Sen, even you say that? What about Little Mo and Luojia?"

"Me? I'll listen to my Second Brother, but I feel sorry for Father," Luojia said.

Seeing everyone looking at him, Mortarion lowered his head. "I don't know, but seeing Father like this, I'm not feeling too good either."

Looking around at the four traitors, Mordred was furious. "These bastards surrendered as soon as they gave in. What a bunch of useless trash."

"Why are you all looking at me like that? You're making me look like some heinous criminal. I just want an explanation. I'm doing this for you, and you—"

Looking down at the Yellow Skins, Mordred tried to pull his hand away, but couldn't budge it. Finally, he sighed helplessly and said fiercely, "I can't do anything with you. Remember, this is the last time."