Redemption Named Mother's Love

As Koz strolled through the Garden of Nurgle, he grew angrier and angrier. His mind was filled with Guilliman's arrogant and boastful face, and he was so angry that he just wanted to scratch that big face to pieces.

Looking up, the bright sun hangs in the sky, providing a comfortable and warm glow to the entire Macragge.

Everything was so beautiful, everything was so peaceful, even the carefully tended flowers and plants in the Garden of Nurgle were so lovely.

But all of this made Koz uncomfortable. Compared to the beautiful and charming Macragge, he preferred to live in the shadows, like Little Rats that couldn't see the light.

"You damned bastard! If I didn't want to disappoint my Second Brother, I wouldn't have come to this godforsaken place! What second hometown? It's all a lie."

But we're real!

The sudden sound made Koz turn around abruptly. Before he could even utter a rebuttal, he saw a pair of eyes filled with worry.

For some reason, even after only a day of contact, Koz didn't want to worry this person, and hurriedly explained:

"I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about Guilliman. He doesn't know anything, he's a bad guy."

Looking at the stubborn little boy who could only seek safety by shrinking into a corner, Euten recalled the first time he met Guilliman, the same wariness, the same fear and anxiety.

"Kids, Guilliman didn't do it on purpose. He's just too naive. He didn't mean to mock you."

Your childhood must have been filled with unhappiness, but since you call me your mother, you should trust me and walk with me. Mom wants to hear your story.

Come out quickly, I've been looking for you for ages!

A hand stretched out in front of him, and in a flash, he saw the damned prophecy again, saw the woman named Euten lying in a pool of blood, the chaotic and wicked laughter surrounding him, and a dark shadow like a pale Ghouls seemed to be about to devour him.

His own hands were already stained with blood.

No! I didn't do this. Who are you?

"My name is Judgment, my name is Justice, my name is Midnight Wraith, I am Konrad Koz."

The more pain he felt, the stronger the malice lurking in the shadows became. The Chaos shadows no longer confined him to one person; more malice pulled at Koz, trying to drag him into the abyss.

But just as Koz was about to shout for help to summon his all-powerful Second Brother to his aid, a hand firmly grabbed his palm and pulled him out of the shadows.

Looking at the woman who had pulled him out of the bushes, Koz, whose vision had finally cleared, paused for a moment, then tightly grasped those warm hands:

"I'm sorry," a soft voice came, Euten's lips curled into a slight smile.

"I accept your apology, but as punishment, you have to tell me about Nostramo, how about that?"

"So, my brother landed in a sinful world full of criminals, where he never sees the sunlight, and hadn't even had a proper meal before you found him, and I just scolded him?"

Mordred nodded and corrected Guilliman's statement:

"It's not that he hasn't eaten; Koz would find rats to eat in his burrows and drink some underground wastewater."

"And you not only scolded Koz, you also scolded me. Do you want me to tell you about my childhood?"

Hearing this, Guilliman's face flushed red. He tried to speak but couldn't utter a word. Finally, he slapped himself across the face.

"Slap~ I deserve to die! Slap~ I deserve to die! Slap slap~ Ah, why did you hit me?"

Seeing that this guy suddenly went berserk, Mordred quickly grabbed Guilliman's arm and slapped him across the face.

"Shut up. You should think about how to make it up to Koz later. What's the point of just going crazy here? Anyway, you have to persuade Koz to come back to me."

If anything goes wrong, I'll spread rumors that you're having an affair with the Aeldari, keeping Xenos on the Glory of Macragge, and being hopelessly addicted to pointy- Pointy-eared sprouts every day."

Such a vicious accusation immediately made Guilliman jump up, saying that this was all slander, How Could he, Guilliman, be tainted by the Xenos, and no one would believe such rumors.

What Guilliman didn't know was that Mordred's Morality compass was notoriously unpredictable; she simply pulled out her Dataslate right in front of him and photoshopped a picture of him:

Perhaps to increase the sense of oppression, Mordred's body rapidly expanded, returning to his original size, directly cornering Guilliman against the wall and shoving the photograph into his hand.

"Do you like it? I have plenty more here if you want. If you don't like the Aeldari, I can make you something else. There are so many Xenos races, there's bound to be one that suits you. I can even Photoshop Emperor for you."

Guilliman was shocked. He couldn't understand How Could so despicable, and what benefit they would gain from doing such a thing.

"Because I want to. And how can you be sure you won't make mistakes in the future!"

"That's impossible." Subconsciously ignoring Mordred's suddenly enlarged size, Guilliman insisted that he had nothing to do with the Xenos, and that it was Atlas who had behaved improperly.

"The Emperor is our father. As his son and the Imperial Warmaster, you cannot insult the Master of Mankind with a dark-skinned hottie."

"Wait, what black hot girl? I never said the Emperor was a black hot girl. You big-eyed Guilliman, so you're no good either."

Guilliman fell silent, his expression instantly softening, and he began to change the subject:

"How did you shrink like that? I've had a feeling something was wrong for a while now. I clearly remember you were only a head shorter than that bastard Vulkan, how could you shrink to such a small size? This is simply not scientific!"

Knowing this guy wouldn't understand, Mordred gave him a further explanation of what Primarch, but no matter how he proved it, even pulling out Daemon, Guilliman still didn't believe him, instead thinking Mordred was abusing a pet.

Despite his disbelief, Guilliman suddenly realized that Mordred wasn't so difficult to get along with. Although he was a bit abstract, at least he wouldn't immediately mock him for Ambition.

Especially when it comes to the Great Crusade, the two are remarkably alike, both preferring to stay within their own little world and avoid venturing out if possible.

What's even more remarkable is that Mordred also enjoys writing books. He even has a copy of the Atlas Codex in his study, which is perfect for reading as a collection of jokes, and is quite darkly humorous.

As two plumes of smoke rose, the two burly men, each holding a Rick's Mushroom cigarette, sprawled on the sofa and began a tirade of complaints.

He said that Malcador was extremely cunning, using incredibly complicated procedures to obscure Imperial politics; another said that the Council of Terra was full of Zerg and that a Space Marine seat must be made available.

From the imperial central government to the living standards of ordinary imperial citizens, the criticism was thorough, ultimately concluding that everyone else was out of their minds, and only their two legions were normal.

"Second Brother, I was wrong just now, please don't take it to heart!"

"Don't worry, I'm not petty. But I feel like I've forgotten something, like it's something very important."

Mordred glanced at Guilliman beside him, especially lingering on the white toilet seat for a few seconds, and finally remembered what he had forgotten:

"Brother, do you know about Nuceria?"