Legions, Offspring, a Twelve-Year-Old Father.

Longing is the distance furthest removed from understanding.

As the Golden Giant who is a specialist in anti-humanity, the Emperor was born with a powerful ability to charm the masses. This made him invincible in communication, much like a brain-dead halo, even more of a Long Aotian than Long Aotian himself.

However, this ability caused the Emperor to develop path dependency. In his long life, he never learned how to communicate, and coupled with his almost fantastical social anxiety, this resulted in the Emperor having parenting skills not even as anthropomorphic as the Giant Shark Old Man next door.

Fortunately, Mordred had a wonderful childhood. Upon arriving here, he met Old Thomas, a Good Father comparable to Yuton, and had no need for the so-called care of the Emperor, his biological Father.

He was not some daddy's boy; did he really need others to coax him at his age?

Instead, during their interactions over the past few days, these two entities with equally flexible moral standards developed a mutual appreciation between bad friends.

After all, although the Emperor was a scumbag, he was right about one thing: for Mordred, there was nothing left in the entire galaxy worth lingering over. Perhaps only the Emperor, this ten-thousand-year-old turtle, could alleviate his loneliness.

The two chatted from various literary works of the 3K era to humanity's past exploration of the stars, and from that Age of Great Navigation to the current weak and scattered state of humanity.

The conversation shifted to mutual mockery and exposing each other's shortcomings, discussing whether humanity could instantly become great if the Empire had an Ultraman, only to end up arguing over whether Tofu Pudding should be salty or sweet, finally concluding with: "I believe this world should not end this way."

"Old Man Huang, I think your methods for dealing with xenos are still too merciful!"

"Ah! I am too merciful?"

Just as Mordred finished speaking, the Emperor looked towards his offspring, who was equally full of all five poisons, with a slightly bewildered expression.

Since the start of the Great Crusade, the Emperor had been labeled with all sorts of titles by xenos—Tyrant, butcher—but never the word "merciful."

"That's right! You are indeed too merciful, to the point of wastefulness!"

Mordred, who was absorbing knowledge in the library, opened a file and pointed to the xenos called Kors:

"Take this lizard-like xenos for example. Why exterminate them completely? We could raise them as livestock. They won't kill humans if eaten, so why not process them into canned food for the soldiers? Wouldn't that be wonderful!

With the technology of those Mechanicus, using clone cultivation and fully automated harvesting, even a single planet could provide a protein source capable of feeding an entire star system.

We could even improve further, modifying these livestock into a Cannon Fodder Corps, creating Living Wombs, and using a Gestalt Network to manipulate them, forcing them to eat the corpses of their own kind and enemies to sustain war with war, creating a Flesh-and-Blood Cataclysm.

You don't even use such simple methods; you really bring shame to us 3K fellow countrymen."

The Emperor understood now. From just a few sentences, he could see the efficiency of this war model, but the problem was, how was this any different from the madmen of Dark Technology in the past? It was just replacing Iron Men with biological weapons.

"No, this violates the Imperial Truth. Playing with xenos is an untouchable red line for the Empire. You are being too extreme, my offspring."

"Then I have other plans."

Mordred, unwilling to give up, proposed a series of war criminal schemes one after another, including the Clone Legion, Warp Fusion, Scorched Earth Advance, and Chemical Bliss. He was completely practicing the Imperial Truth in reverse, making those few guys eavesdropping behind the scenes so excited they were practically saluting.

But in the end, the Emperor used his punchy, fatherly love to make Mordred understand what the righteous path was, and repeatedly warned him not to commit such Unethical Deeds that would pollute the purity of the Empire.

Looking at his Rebellious son, who started searching for Abominable Intelligence archives after being well-behaved for a moment, the Emperor felt his blood pressure rise for the first time, beginning to regret not hardening his heart and vaporizing this freak back then.

But thinking of the psychic residue he saw on Mordred that the Four Gods were fighting over, he suppressed his blood pressure, which was about to explode.

"Stop looking. The water regarding Intelligent AI is very deep; you cannot grasp it. With that time, you might as well go see your legion. They have Knelt on the Ground for half a month."

"Ah? Why are they kneeling!"

Serene World.

In front of the Titan wreckage pierced by light lances, a full ten thousand Space Marine knelt on the ground. They had not had a drop of water for half a month, waiting for their final judgment like the dead.

The joy of finding their Gene-Father was replaced by panic. Thinking of how they had blasted their Father into pieces and how he still refused to look at them, the warriors of the Second Legion felt as if the sky had collapsed.

Since the Great Crusade, no legion had ever acted to bombard a Primarch. According to Imperial law, the Second Legion could already be considered traitors.

As for the ten company captains who had pressed the fire button together at the time, they were shivering, wailing frantically on the internal channel.

"Goff, you are a pitfall! Why didn't you scout? It's over now. We are traitors of the Second Legion. We almost killed Father."

The accusation from Fourth Company Captain Brian did not receive a response, but instead provoked mockery from Gawain:

"Shut up. You have the nerve to talk about Goff? It was you who proposed the bombardment. 'Traitors of the Second Legion'? It's not even certain if the legion will continue to exist. Even if we die to apologize, the Soul Drinkers will be mocked by other legions. It's already over!"

Gawain's words left everyone silent. It was indeed the truth. The Second Legion already had a bad reputation, and now they carried the charge of patricide. If they didn't want to see their Father one last time, they probably would have already died to apologize.

And even more terrifying was that their Primarch had not looked at them once. Even an execution would have been better!

"So, you are kneeling here to repent, wanting to see the Primarch one last time before being judged? But why don't you explain? Are you mourning?"

"Explain? How can I explain!" Goff, kneeling in the front row, sounded as if he were about to cry, speaking excitedly to the voice in the internal communication:

"I gave the order. Father was shattered by me. When I reached the surface, Father was only half-left. I couldn't even find Father's backside."

After receiving the reply, that voice came again.

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes, I am indeed afraid. I don't care about the gossip of other legions, but I am afraid of seeing the disgusted look in my Gene-Father's eyes. I don't want the beauty I pursue to dissipate. I am just a coward."

The internal communication fell silent again. Clearly, all ten thousand Space Marine of the Second Legion thought the same, which made Mordred, who was eavesdropping, feel exhausted.

He thought, is this my legion? Why are they all so long-winded? Could it be that I am about to take over a group of kindergarteners with a mental age of less than eight?

At this moment, Mordred finally understood the Emperor's feelings. Leading a group of overgrown children to conquer the galaxy was indeed not easy.

But when Mordred looked through the porthole and saw the ten thousand big guys kneeling on the ground, heads bowed and shivering, the genetic connection made him Realized that these people were all his offspring.

"Sigh, you are right, but I am even less willing to see my progeny kowtow to anyone, even if it is to me."

The voice inside the helmet began to distort, and accompanied by a gust of wind blowing through the wild grass, the ramp of the landed Stormbird was pushed open from within.

Escorted by a circle of fat dogs, Mordred Wayne, wearing only a linen robe, walked toward his progeny with his back to the sun.

"Stand up and let me look at my progeny!"

The voice originating from the Gene-Lord instantly calmed the unease of the Second Legion. As they lifted their heads, they saw that smile, illuminated by the sunlight, which looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.

An incomparable sense of pride and happiness struck every warrior of the Second Legion; they were unable to even steady their bodies, forced to rely on increasing the output of their servo-motors to remain upright.

"Father, I... I..."

"Shh!"

A palm pressed down on the head of Goff. Amidst 9,999 gazes that wished they could kill Goff, Mordred stopped his confession and said loudly:

"Children, warriors of the Second Legion, when I came to your side, I had already felt your loyalty and indomitability.

My proud progeny! The bond originating from our bloodline connects us. Perhaps you are not perfect, but in the eyes of a father, everything about you is my pride.

Even if the sudden arrival of ten thousand progeny troubles me, we have plenty of time to adjust and complete the great cause that belongs to us!

And I will not enjoy this glory alone. In the name of Mordred Wayne, Lord of the Second Legion, I promise here that I will lead you toward one victory after another.

Glory belongs to the Second Legion!

Waaaagh!!!"

The long-suppressed desire was satisfied in an instant. The warriors of the Second Legion welcomed their Primarch. They cheered and jumped for joy, celebrating their new beginning, howling like a group of five-hundred-pound silly children:

"Glory belongs to the Second Legion, Waaaagh!!!"

Meanwhile, two Old Ones, one large and one small, watched this scene on the surface through a Holographic Projection.

[My Lord, are you finally satisfied?] The old man in front of the chessboard raised his head, looking with eyes that completely contradicted his aged appearance at the Emperor, who had his mouth stretched back to his molars.

[Yes, Malcador, our plan has succeeded. The Second Legion will become the bond that stabilizes Mordred, and we have gained an ally outside of fate.

As for those Dogs and Donkeys who are still spying on him, I will settle the score with them. With my supreme Overlord's Will, I will surely blast those Four Useless Ones into slag, Kiya!]

Ignoring those strange verbal tics, Malcador Realized that the Emperor had been corrupted again, so he picked up his cane and struck him, the force so great that it created a sonic boom in the room.

"Ugh~"

After a few dry heaves, the Emperor returned to being that poker-faced Golden Giant, but the smugness in his eyes remained unchanged.

[It is merely Cognitive Pollution. As long as it can make humanity great again, everything is worth it. Not to mention that Mordred has already become my progeny; relying on this heavy connection, the one who laughs last will definitely be me!]

Pfft... cough, cough!

[My friend, what are you laughing at?]

[I... I thought of something happy. But My Lord, the future we glimpsed shows that your progeny will...]

This time it was the Emperor's turn to lose his composure, but the Golden Giant soon slammed the table and argued.

[The Second Son is different. Even if he is slightly abstract, I can see that he is the same kind of person as me, and he is even more human than I am. He has an enviable Blonde Hair, and he calls me Father!]

Hearing this, Malcador immediately felt the burden on his shoulders grow heavier, but before he could speak, the door was kicked open from the outside.

"Old Man Huang, what little secrets are you and Malcador talking about? Come here quickly, Father has something to ask you."