Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

"It seems we have reached an agreement again." Luo Jia smiled and stretched out his hand.

"Yes." Coze shook his hand.

……

In the room Dorothy had arranged for Lorgar, Medea said softly, "Don't worry. No technological surveillance can escape my eyes. You don't need to be so suspicious of your brother. He wouldn't do such a stupid thing."

"Medea," Lorca criticized harshly, "Your acting is too exaggerated!"

"I must state that what I said just now was completely sincere and not a show at all." Medea was shaking with anger. "The instructions taught them to use bullets to splash water, but they grabbed a handful of bullets and threw them at the enemy, thinking that was splashing water, and then complained that the bullets were too ineffective! You humans once created stone men and iron men, so why have you become like this?"

Luo Jia: "I need to ask you this."

Medea was silent, and it seemed to be true.

Medea: "I must reiterate that I have nothing to do with the Iron Man of the Dark Age of Technology. I was created after the Iron Man Rebellion ended."

"If it weren't for your connection to the Iron Rebellion, you would have been destroyed."

"What about you?" Medea didn't want to talk about such an awkward topic. "You clearly want me to help your brother transform his home planet, so why are you deliberately creating conflict?"

"I just wanted to see him," Lorgar said softly, "to see if my brother is really what Worp said he was."

"You're so screwed."

Luo Jia smiled, "You think he's my brother, don't you? We obviously hate each other so much, but we have to pretend to love each other. He is just like me."

Medea was surprised. "I never realized you hated him that much."

"Because we hate each other and admire each other at the same time."

……

"I hate him." Coz made no secret of it in front of Dorothy. "He's a daddy's boy who doesn't have a mother of his own. It seems that even Wop can't change him."

Dorothy was helpless. Although she was happy about Coz's frankness, how could she respond to this?

Chapter 81 Stone (5K)

"It's so damn cold!"

Although the psychic energy could keep Wop warm, he still shivered violently.

He had just left the glacier of Fenris and was now thrown into a world of ice and snow without any preparation.

If it wasn't a prank played on him by Ruth and Sylvia, then he must have traveled through time again.

Last time it was Fenris, this time it should be Invert, right?

"Rogal Dorn, where are you?" Wop had no idea, but he believed he would find Dorn.

It was the same as the previous few times. It seemed as if there was some bond between him and the Primarch, as if some mysterious force made them meet, and they were attracted to each other.

As Wop trekked through the snowy mountains, he searched his mind for information about Invert, but found nothing.

Inverter's most famous specialty is the Phalanx, nothing else.

Even the Imperial Fists were different from the other Legions. While other Legions recruited from the Primarch's homeworld, the Imperial Fists primarily recruited from Terra.

There are no famous deeds or particularly famous fighters here. The only famous one should be Alex Pollax, the founder of the famous Blue Paint Emperor Fist.

Wop knew almost nothing about Dorn's childhood. He only knew that he was adopted by an ice tribe.

Unlike Fenris, a world of ice and fire, there is no battle royale in Invit. It is simply cold here, and it stays cold all year round.

Although the humans on Invit still live a nomadic life, the world has a high level of technology. They can even build small fleets for interstellar expansion and establish a small interstellar empire during the period of conflict.

So there must be a complete shipyard in Invert's orbit, and it is possible that it is the Phalanx.

Wop climbed to the top of the rugged peak, stood on the top of the mountain in the cold wind and looked out at the vast peaks, wanting to see if he could find any signs of human life.

Then he was stunned because he saw an unusual emerald green color at the foot of the mountain!

It was clearly a dense broad-leaved forest, but how could there be such a large forest in the world of ice and snow?

"Unless this isn't Invit at all." Wop muttered to himself. The truth was so simple.

But if this is not Invicta, then where is this?

Where is the Primarch he is looking for?

If this wasn't Invert, but a normal world with four seasons and snow-capped mountains, the scope would be too vast.

His first thought was Guilliman, a world with beautiful scenery very similar to Macragge.

Wop was about to leave the snowy mountains to search for the original body's traces when he suddenly saw several small black spots moving rapidly in the pure white world. These black spots were so abrupt that they looked like the famous cosmic cold spots on the cosmic background radiation map.

……

"Run, run!"

A boy of only two or three years old was running on the vast snow. He could not speak yet, but his instinct for survival told him that he must run, run non-stop, and run faster.

His legs were cut by the sharp ice rocks, leaving bloody marks, and every step he took caused a glaring scarlet to bloom on the white snow.

But he didn't dare stop. The enemies who were chasing him forced him to flee in panic under the double torture of pain and cold.

The biting cold wind poured into his lungs like molten lead, turning every breath into a painful knife-like cut.

But those monsters were flying in the sky, and no matter how he ran, they would always catch up.

"boom!"

A slender monster jumped down from the sky and knocked him down. The boy under it resisted fiercely.

A cold flash of a dagger almost passed through his throat, but fortunately the boy dodged in time.

He groped for a stone with his hands, then roared and smashed it forward. The shrill scream ended abruptly with the hot air spraying on his face.

The weight on his body suddenly disappeared, and he became the master, riding on the monster.

"what!"

He roared and smashed the monster's head with a rock until it could no longer move.

"Ah!"

He picked up a stone and roared at the surrounding monsters. Beneath his threatening appearance, there was a kind of desperate bravado. Like a trapped beast cornered, knowing defeat was inevitable, it still used its last bit of strength to bare its bloody fangs.

The boy gasped as he lifted himself off the body, sticky liquid dripping down his arms.

He raised his bloodstained face and met the eyes of the monsters around him. He read fear in the monsters' contracted pupils. The heartbeats from their chests were like war drums, exploding a chaotic rhythm in the cold air.

They were clearly the ones who came to hunt him, but now they are afraid.

The boy wanted to laugh, but he couldn't because he had no strength.

"What a shame. I thought it was a rock. It turns out it's a rock."

The boy heard a voice behind him, speaking a language he didn't understand.

"what!"

He roared and threw a stone at him, but it was like hitting a piece of amber.

A broad palm suddenly covered his bloody knuckles, and the warmth came through the cold blood scabs.

The warm touch was like a bonfire suddenly encountered on a cold night, causing the boy's tense muscles to relax unconsciously.

He raised his eyes and saw an ordinary face.

The man's thumb was gently stroking the gaping wound on the back of his hand, his movements so gentle as if he was afraid to break something perishable.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

The boy still didn't understand, but hot tears burst out before his reason, and a few broken sobs came out of his throat.

"Baba, it hurts."

"You are even more despicable than Lorgar." Wop gently wiped the boy's tears, "Don't cry, kill the person first, okay? If you don't kill him, the body will be cold."

"Okay." His voice was hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper, and there was indeed a bloody scar on his throat.

The boy stumbled forward, leaving small bloody marks in the snow.

The monsters stood frozen in place. They wanted to escape, their tendons cramping beneath their skin, but they seemed nailed to the snowy field by some invisible force.

It’s not that I don’t want to escape, but that I can’t escape.

They were familiar with that power because it was an innate gift of their race.

"See his true nature." One of the monsters squeezed a voice from its throat. "That hungry shadow that devours the warp and weft of fate. Our twilight, your dawn, and even the empire's false daylight... will eventually shatter under its fangs. And you, are you still going to pretend you can't hear the screams of the falling stars?"

The strong wind blocked his mouth, and the boy rushed over to him with a roar, knocked him down, and smashed his head with a stone again and again. Blood and brain matter splattered all over the boy and stuck to his naked pink flesh.

The dull thud of rocks colliding with skulls exploded regularly on the snowy plains, broken bones and brain matter splashed abstract patterns on the pure white snow, and warm steam condensed into fleeting mist in the cold wind.

At first, the monsters would convulse, their broken limbs twitching unconsciously.

But as the knocking continued to echo, the body gradually became still, and finally only the whimpering of the cold wind was left.

The boy staggered to his feet and smashed their heads one by one with his own hands until the monsters could no longer stand up.

A pair of warm hands lifted him from behind, their strength as steady as if they were lifting a feather. A warm coat wrapped around his trembling body, and spiritual energy flowed through his wounds like a stream, yet it was strangely reassuring.

The man held him gently in his arms. The boy was surprisingly quiet, like an ice sculpture carved by wind and snow, with only hot tears constantly sliding down his cheeks.

His fingers unconsciously clenched the man's collar, but loosened slightly when he realized it, as if he was afraid of crushing the hard-earned warmth.

"You won't kill them like this." Wop squatted down and took a glowing stone from the chest of the corpse. "This thing is called a soul stone. When the Eldar die, their souls are absorbed by the soul stone. As long as their fellow tribesmen recover these soul stones, they will not truly die. So to kill the Eldar, you must destroy their soul stones. Do you understand?"

The boy pursed his lips, tears still welling up in his eyes, and nodded vigorously.

Wop collected the soul stones of these elves one by one and patiently educated the boy.

"It's fine to completely destroy their souls, but there's no need to reward them. As long as the Soul Stone is destroyed, the Youngest Goddess will teach them what cruelty is."

"But this is a bit wasteful, so I suggest you use their soul stones. You can embed the soul stones in shields or give them to psykers. These can help them pay the price of peeking into the warp."

Wop rambled on for a long time, and finally suddenly said, "Do you want me to give you a name?"

The boy nodded vigorously.

"Angron," Wop said, "that's the name your slaver gave you. I wanted to give you a new one, but I'm a bit stubborn. I feel like giving you a new name is like running away from the past, and this isn't the past, it's a future that hasn't happened yet."

"In the language of Nucera, it means Son of the Mountain. But if you interpret it in High Gothic, it has two meanings. The first is a literal meaning of anger."

"Now that I'm here, I won't let you become a slave to anger. But you should remember today's anger, remember these Eldar's indiscriminate pursuit of you, and then use your anger to wipe out the enemies of humanity."

"The second meaning is that there is nothing wrong with anger itself. Every kind of human nature has its meaning, but you need to learn to control your anger."

"So you have to maintain your anger but also control your anger."

"You are still young, so it doesn't matter if you don't understand. I have plenty of time to teach you. If the Emperor won't give you even a second, then let me make it up to you and repay his debt."

"Ang...long..." The boy's throat trembled slightly, and his cracked lips clumsily spelled out the syllable.

"Ange...long..."

The call was like sandpaper rubbing against rusty metal, so hoarse that the words were almost indistinguishable. His tongue, unaccustomed to this pronunciation, stumbled between his teeth, but he still stubbornly repeated it.

"Angron." This time it was smoother, with a slight upward rise at the end, carrying a tentative hope.

"You are Angron, and I am Wop." Wop pointed at him and then at himself.

"Wop," he called.

"Ah."

"Wop!"

"I'm here."

"Wop!"

"Master, stop reading!"

The boy immediately fell silent, his thin shoulders shrank unconsciously.

"I'm not being mean to you," Wop said helplessly, "Forget it, you can yell if you want, but I can't promise I'll yell back!"

Although the Primarchs loved to argue endlessly on various issues, if you asked who was the strongest, they would definitely argue endlessly, but if you asked who was the most miserable, the answer would most likely be Angron.

Some people are picked up as soon as they land and have happy families, while those who are not so lucky can only survive in the wilderness for a few years.

But Angron had barely landed when the once-dominant Eldar attacked him and nearly beat him to death. The key point was that these Eldar were so weak that they couldn't even defeat a child with a surprise attack!