Old Man Yellow in Danger!

Without needing any explanation, the moment Horus kicked open the door, he saw nothing but the elegant woman. He deliberately ignored his short brother.

Perhaps he felt he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't suppress the question bubbling up inside him. In the end, Horus still said to the filthy woman:

"Father, you smell so nice! I knew you were a woman."

(/＼)∑(O_O;)(Д)ノ

At those words, it was as if the air had solidified and the whole world fell silent. Nobody spoke, yet it felt as though thousands upon thousands were whispering.

Just as Horus was delighting in having discovered the Emperor's little secret, a furious shout rang in his ear. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air:

"Shut up! I'm Erda, damn it, not that accursed Yellow Weasel! I've had enough of your whole family! Die!"

Golden runes flashed across a curse that swept upward, hoisting Horus—the disgusting, severely father-obsessed pervert—into the air. Humiliated beyond endurance, Erda grabbed a whip and lashed him, cursing as she did:

"You little shit! No wonder that bastard Neoth chose you as Warmaster. So that's the kind of thing going on between you two! Ugh, disgusting! I must've been blind to ever fall for that Yellow Weasel!"

As the mother of the Primarchs in a genetic sense, Erda had been very close to the Emperor while the Primarchs were being made. To create bodies capable of containing shards of the Warp, the Emperor had taken egg cells from Erda as the maternal template, combined them with his own genes, and created the twenty-one hulking brutes they now had.

Anyone the Emperor chose was bound to be extraordinary. Erda wasn't especially powerful, but with her absurdly overpowered curses, she could always take her opponents by surprise.

Yet no matter how hard