My Second Brother Is Invincible Under Heaven

War is not child's play; there will be no miracles of everyone escaping unscathed, nor will there be any so-called hopes and dreams. All that exists is a blood and flesh mill of death and wailing.

Three standard Terra months have passed since Perturabo took command of the Iron Warriors. During this time, the Fourth Legion conquered three star systems, a total of 17 major planets, and wiped out a human world corrupted by parasitic Xenos.

Just as Mordred had promised, he relinquished all command authority, handing the fleet over to Perturabo, and for three months he did not overstep his bounds in the slightest.

But as the Iron Warriors achieved victory after victory, Perturabo lost his initial excitement and longing, replaced only by numbness and entanglement.

Whether or not Primarch, Perturabo was essentially just a country Little Princess from Olympia. No matter how many chessboard scenarios were played, none could match the shock of that bloody War of Attrition that spanned one or more worlds.

A comrade who might have been chatting with you just minutes ago, boasting about how beautiful his fiancée is and how he'd be getting married after the war, could be killed by a stray bullet the next second, becoming a cold, hard number on the Killed in Action list.

Whether they are auxiliary troops or Space Marine, there is no difference under saturation bombardment. At most, one will be reduced to minced meat, while the other will at least have a whole corpse protected by Adamantium armor.

Especially those soldiers whose limbs were shattered and internal organs spilled out, yet who did not die immediately, shouted for the Emperor, for the Imperial Truth, and in the end, they embraced bombs and perished together with the enemy.

These images had a profound impact on Perturabo, making her increasingly cautious and apprehensive. She feared that her command errors would lead to the needless sacrifice of her soldiers, and could only convince herself that the Imperial Truth was right and that their deaths were for a better tomorrow.

The best way to avoid casualties is through overwhelming firepower. Under this mindset, the Iron Warriors gradually developed the tactical habit of Carpet Bombing with heavy artillery, using cold data calculations to gradually expand their advantage and ultimately avoid horrific casualties.

The only downside is that it consumes energy too quickly and is mentally taxing, but Perturabo believes it's all worth it; she is the Primarch, and she can handle everything.

In stark contrast to Perturabo's cautiousness, Mordred fought with abandon, and his Atlas showed no fear of casualties, genuinely enjoying this rare hunt.

With his overwhelming stats, Mordred completely abandoned any thought process. For him, it was simply a matter of tearing the enemy apart. He would kill whoever Perturabo told him to, and he was having a blast every day.

At this very moment, on this ocean world called St. Hole Star, which has been overrun by Space Sharks, a fierce and bloody War of Attrition has broken out.

Clad in heavy armor Mordred charged forward at high speed, while the Black Knights, whose coordination with her was becoming increasingly adept, quickly cleared the battlefield to cover the Iron Warriors in establishing a forward outpost.

To maximize efficiency, Mordred abandoned his Ashen Herald and picked up two heavy machine guns to fire back and forth. He only unleashed his Ambition against heavily armored units, rewarding them with a plasma Plasma and occasionally throwing a single-soldier nuclear grenade.

Yes, after conducting battlefield research on Atlas and listening to a large number of opinions from the Legion, the Hive Research Institute has developed a miniature nuclear grenade in a frenzied manner.

This weapon is small in size but powerful, with an absolute kill radius of 200 meters. As long as you are not afraid of death, you can become the Jade-Faced Grenade King and be the coolest guy on the battlefield.

Most importantly, this type of grenade leaves no radiation residue after exploding, making it absolutely environmentally friendly and harmless.

Explosion, explosion, and more explosion!

The Atlas loved the feeling of being bombarded, especially the soul debris that permeated the entire battlefield. As long as it was formed into Chaos Energy Crystal, both they and their Daemon pets could become stronger again.

Nothing is more exhilarating than the ability to become stronger through hard work. Atlas, who was more like Daemon than Daemon, absorbed the power frantically, even creating a small ripple in the Warp, attracting countless gazes.

The God of Life bestowed upon them a more resilient life, allowing their wounds to heal faster and sparing them from fatal blows.

The God of Wisdom bestowed upon them more agile minds, spread a spell of dullness to confuse their enemies, and enabled them to wield Psychic Power fireballs.

The Dark Prince granted them more agile and versatile forms, transforming them into dancing death Wraith on the battlefield, dodging the unavoidable bullets and artillery fire.

The Blood God was the most generous, sparing no effort to bestow blessings upon the war, and even laughing heartily at these promising Daemon Prince in reserve.

As for this blessing of power that no longer even required acting, Atlas had only one reaction: he wanted it all.

I don't care about this or that, all I want right now is to have fun fighting! --Waaaagh!!!!

Emerald green Fel Energy, now materialized, flickered on the armor, radiating from Mordred, the Primarch who had absorbed most of the Blessing, to every Atlas and even Spartan Warriors, completing a magnificent transformation from Warp Demonic Energy to My Thinking Power.

But the more openly NTR-like the behavior, the happier the Four Gods became, and they all continued to escalate the situation, as they loved watching this.

Especially when they thought of the Cursed's dark and gloomy expression, the Four Merchants felt an extreme sense of power and pleasure, like Emperor, making it the most idyllic fantasy.

"Ah! Such immense power! I am now Invincible Under Heaven! Waaaagh!!!"

With a roar from Mordred in the center of the battlefield, the Fel Energy that had only existed around Atlas expanded instantly, eventually enveloping the entire battlefield and creating a verdant vortex in the sky.

Even the Iron Warriors started to feel excited involuntarily, sometimes shouting "Iron Within, Iron Without," sometimes chuckling "Hey ha hey ha," and occasionally letting out a "Waaaagh."

Without any hesitation, the Iron Warriors had already established forward outposts rushed out and joined the battle under the cover of Suppressive Fire.

After being empowered by the Fel Energy field, not only Atlas, but also the Iron Warriors and the Auxilia felt stronger. They jumped higher, ran faster, and were extremely happy with their minds blank, with only one thought in mind: to kill the opponent.

The only ones whose Dao hearts had collapsed on the entire battlefield were those Space Sharks. They wondered, "Where did these mad dogs come from? What are they doing?"

Those big Canned One are one thing, but how could a skinny little monkey like you break through my armor with a small pistol? This isn't scientific, this isn't scientific at all! Don't come any closer!

"Hmph, hmph, ahhh--"

This scene thrilled Perturabo, relieving much of the pressure of intense mental calculations. He was just puzzled as to How Could being consumed so quickly.

Despite his puzzlement, Perturabo still resolutely allocated more ammunition supplies to the front lines, since Mordred, Hero Unit that could lead troops to the battlefield instantly, was simply too useful.

Watching his own battle lines rapidly advancing in the Holographic Projection, Perturabo couldn't help but exclaim in admiration:

"My Second Brother is truly Invincible Under Heaven!"

"Frix, look! That Anti-aircraft Gun was cleaved in two with a single blow! Damn it, my Second Brother wasn't lying to me after all; this is the result of hard work and sweat!"

"Mother, I'm glad you're happy." Frix, who had been promoted to Primarch's lieutenant, was more composed, but he hesitated in his heart, wondering if he should say the words he was supposed to say.

Seeing their rapidly growing mother, who had begun to care about the casualties of her subordinates, not only Frix, but all the Iron Warriors felt a deep sense of pride.

But in order to prevent that beautiful illusion from withering instantly when the lie was exposed, after exchanging glances with the Trident's higher-ups and receiving affirmation from all the Inner Circle members, Frix finally spoke:

"Mother, we are advancing rapidly, but our supplies and ammunition are severely depleted. Should we pause and rest?"

After finishing his report, Frix immediately closed his eyes, praying that he would never hear that order again.

"No need! Have the nearest supply world send the supplies over. I must complete the mission, Frix. Don't you want the Legion to have its own Forge World?"

"I'd like to, but this order will severely strain the supply lines. Olympia might not be able to keep up with this production pace. If it were Mordred Highness Mordred, he would definitely order the legion to rest."

This time, Frix didn't close his eyes, but stared straight at his Primarch. However, he didn't see what he wanted in those iron-grey eyes, only a look of rage.

"Frix, I'll say it again, I am the Legion Commander of the Iron Warriors Legion, my orders are infallible, you only need to obey."

Perhaps realizing his tone was too harsh, Perturabo made a rare dry joke to ease the tension, "I know Mordred is very popular; I could even appoint him as the honorary Legion Commander of the Iron Warriors."

But you are my offspring, and I believe in the Imperial Truth; we are fighting for a great goal!

Frix, don't you dare learn from that Ambition Goff!