The Iron Blood was quietly adrift in orbit, the outermost side of the galaxy, and the fifth patrol fleet sent to subspace was tossing and turning in the waves of subspace.

Initially, Perturabo was worried that the gap between the subspace and the physical universe would cut off his grip on the Iron Warriors, but now he found himself overly concerned, and as of now, distance could not be used as a reason to weaken his control over the Soldiers.

Thousands of real-time maps were going on in his head, but they were no longer deductions and simulations, they were real things happening, and every moment the Iron Lord enjoyed the process, and he finally didn't have to put up with his failed subordinates.

In the midst of his thoughts, the Iron Lord sometimes thought of the Iron Warriors he had sent to his station, and he tried to recall them, but their data didn't come naturally—he couldn't dominate them.

This may be a good thing or a bad thing, the Lord of Steel wants to test his abilities on his forgotten children, to obtain information, and to make everything efficient, the only price is the erasure of personality.

In a way, Perturabo felt sorry for some of the warriors he admired, but those emotions were quickly erased, and as the prototype for the eleven smash of the Legion, he didn't put too much unnecessary emotion into his heirs.

Now, within the Iron Warriors' fleet, the warriors quietly do their job, like ...... Like Perturabo's sister's dolls, Perturabo realizes that he can spend redundant energy to make them "live", but now this is unnecessary.

He had more important things to do.

The Iron Warriors' fleet is colonizing within the Eye of Fear at a terrifying rate, looking for resources, building infrastructure, building transportation lines, and Perturabo doesn't know why he did it, but he wants to do it, and that's it-

In this brief moment of respite, he did what he wanted to do, an architect, he built, created rather than destroyed, and his newfound abilities made it all the more fun to build, and he "personally" participated in the stacking of every tiny detail.

Of course, out of some more subtle, imperceptible idea, Perturabo did not choose to build humanistic buildings, lecture halls, bell towers, which were unnecessary, because no one was going to enjoy them.

He chose those familiar to the point of numbness, buildings, trenches, airfields...... The buildings that shaped him into a war machine.

This was to prepare for the dangers that might come, and it occurred to him that he had repeatedly confirmed that he was in the real world, and that he would not easily set foot in the subspace until he was well prepared.

Nothing can interrupt the construction of the Iron Lord, except-

For the first time, Perturabo stood up from his Iron Throne, and he walked out of the corridor.

No one informed him, and busy people passed him in silence, and if he normally wouldn't have been angry at their rudeness, but not anymore.

He walked onto the deck of the Iron Blood, and the moment the Iron Lord stood still, the thing was also placed on the deck by the elevator of the Fifth Exploration Team.

It was almost carried to the ship of the Fifth Expedition by the turbulence of subspace, and the instrument was emitting a quiet humming sound, the liquid gurgling in it.

Perturabo stared at the pod as the curtain began to waver, perhaps a necessary price to pay, if he wanted him to stay here, then he would have to put up with it.

He silently took a step forward, and all the people on deck who were working stopped, and they turned their heads to stare at the sleek, docile, and quiet conservation pod.

Perturabo felt his heart beat faster, faster, thumping to an unbelievable frequency, he felt dizzy, he felt incredible, as of now, he still felt that it was all false, but the fleet of the Iron Warriors had been building within the Eye of Fear for three years.

Nothing had happened, no rust, no monsters of iron and fire, not even children, and the whole world of Perturabo had been left with him for three years.

Now he is the only one left.

In disbelief, Perturabo made an impulsive decision, he did not direct the soldiers to come forward and operate, he walked over himself, staring at the small wriggling piece of flesh.

He shattered the transparent case with a single punch, and Perturabo's hand churned in the viscous liquid, pulling the child out of his case with an inexplicable force.

He touched his skin as if it were burning, and Perturabo knew it was his delusion, but his hand was still twitching, and with a snap, he involuntarily let go, and the baby slammed into the floor of the Iron Blood.

He watched him struggle, he was wet all over his body, and he opened his eyes and stared at Perturabo in horror.

The moment the baby opened his eyes, all the stationary people on the Iron Blood began to work again, the deck commander was loud and noisy, waving his baton, the soldiers who were handing over the guards clammed their fists, and the crew members who returned from exploration laughed and said something.

He stared at him.

Your name is Peturabo. 】

Perturabo said slowly, his voice insignificant in the noise of the deck, but something inside him was growing wildly.

Now, stand up and follow me, and if you act weak, then I will kill you. 】

Little Peturabo watched the behemoth turn away without hesitation, and he pondered for a moment the possibility of escape, and finally he decided to stagger after him.

His long, undried eyelashes quivered, and the child looked around at the people on deck in confusion and horror, who automatically ignored them.

————————

Little Peturabo sat silently on the floor, and there was no furniture in the whole empty room, except that he was given a pen and a stack of books stacked beside him, taller than him.

He wrote and drew quietly in his book, and the formulas in his pen, and this was how time passed during most of his dimly lit days.

Once again, he disappointed his adoptive father.

Little Peturabo's consciousness touched the thought unconsciously, and his heart shook violently, which was enough to make his body tremble with it, but after he had been suffocated by his adoptive father in the pool for the first time because of his cowardice, he tried to restrain any movement that might reveal cowardice.

Steel inside and out.

Little Peturabo said this in his heart, he hoped that he would be ready again, and not disappoint his adoptive father, who in most cases would not physically punish him, he would just ignore little Peturabo, ignore him, and not pay attention to him.

Little Peturabo longs for his adoptive father's attention, how did this matter grow and take root in his heart? He didn't know, but by the time he realized it, he was already trying to please his adoptive father as much as he could.

The adoptive father was not unreasonable, little Peturabo thought, his pen unconsciously scribbling on the paper.

On the contrary, he was definitely in love with himself, thought Peturabo Jr.

Otherwise, he would not have unconsciously touched his head after the mission was completed, would not have promised him new formulas and books, would not have taught him the art of fighting without reservation, would not have spent a lot of time and energy examining his body, and would not have told him the stories of the great architects.

The adoptive father wanted him to be stronger, to be strong enough, to be steel inside and out.

He needed to meet his adoptive father's expectations of him, so that little Peturabo would get something, maybe it was an outing, maybe a new book, rather than the indifference and disregard that disappointed his adoptive father, who perhaps wanted his adoptive father to see him more than the rewards.

In his world, only his adoptive father will take care of him, and the rest of the people will always ignore little Peturabo, who is also a vassal of his adoptive father, they will not change and affect anything, this world does not belong to them.

After many attempts, little Peturabo gave up trying to attract the attention of those people, who he didn't need just as much as they didn't need him.

He once asked his adoptive father with a reward for a successful mission, and his adoptive father replied that he didn't need to focus on the weak, the world only belonged to the strong, and the whole world revolved around the strongest person, and if you can't be the strongest - then you must at least know how to crawl under the strong.

Little Peturabo's life experience taught him that he was right, that no one disobeyed his adoptive father, that no one else was worthless, and that only his adoptive father had value.

Only the strongest have value, and only the father has value.

He thought.

————————

Perturabo was clearly aware that he was laughing at his soul, and he clearly saw how it all happened—

How I became what I am today.

He gave the kid a paltry reward, and watched him secretly rejoice for that little bit of dregs for a long time.

If he was happy, he called the child over to talk, and then sent the child away when he was in the mood, and if he was not happy, he stopped caring for the child for a few days, or even months, and Perturabo turned his attention back to the infrastructure of the fleet, deliberately ignoring him.

Little Peturabo needs steel inside and out, and he needs to be tempered on the inside.

Perturabo said this to his own heart, but he knew very well that it was not so, and a twisted sense of satisfaction grew in his heart, and he thought of the emperor, who had thought the same way about him, and had treated him like this?

He wantonly abandoned his children in the middle of nowhere, gave him difficult tasks, forced him to give up what he loved to do, and rewarded him with a little scrap while he waited for his attention—that was enough for him.

Perturabo burst out laughing.

He felt ridiculous, he felt ridiculous, but he was indeed immersed in this sea of power and domination, and he felt with satisfaction that little Peturabo was trying to please him, trying to get his attention, and in reward for wagging his tail so hard, Peturabo looked at him.

It was strange why Perturabo had never taken the pleasure of dominance in anyone else. Even after he was strong enough to control an entire fleet, he would only sigh that he was finally free of waste and had gained the world.

He never knew that his lust for domination was so dense and vibrant, and he recklessly watered this flower of greed with his brutality against himself—

How he despised this little fellow who would only live on the rewards and words of others!

Ha...... Hahahaha! Ha!

Every time, every time he spoke to himself, rewarding him, punishing him, snubbing him, Perturabo's soul seemed to be torn in half, half of him let out a sigh of contentment, the other half of him was trembling and roaring, why do you do this to him?! Why?!

Why did he do this to him?! He yelled at the figure, did he think so too? Dominating his offspring for pleasure in satisfying his lusts for power?

He was madly imitating the Emperor's atrocities, and Perturabo didn't know why, when he realized that he was revisiting the Emperor's path, which he had been on for too long! He subconsciously rewarded and punished himself with his attention, ha, he turned out to be a cruel person in this world!

Hush...... No.

Perturabo said to himself that he was not, that he was far less cruel than the emperor, that he would not at least use his blood, that he would not force their loyalty to him with his flesh.

Perturabo chuckled to himself, if he knocked out his loyalty gene, would he still bow down in front of him? Will you still desperately dig out your heart and soul in the hope that he will look at him more and praise him more? Are you still secretly jealous of his praise for his other brothers?

Emperor, you don't deserve this!

He doesn't deserve it!

Perturabo wondered with rage why the man who had committed such atrocities could still enjoy the tribute of his heirs and the fear of his son's every move...... Unless he is by nature, he is greedy and brutal.

Perturabo has decided, Emperor, if you are truly noble, then you don't have to limit them with your genes and body!

He listened to the footsteps coming from outside the room, and Perturabo felt sarcastic again, yes, the emperor is greedy and cruel, otherwise how could his heir have such a cruel and absurd nature?

Footsteps stopped at the doorway.

[Come in.] 】

Peturabo said lazily and hoarsely,

The door was carefully pushed open, and he amusedly saw little Peturabo come in as upright as he could, and the child looked at him in amazement, he was a few years old, but still like a child, and Perturabo's half-knockout of his genes hindered the growth of the original itself.

Little Peturabo let out a small breath.

The adoptive father was leaning naked against the cold, inorganic back of the medical chair, and through some of the translucent tubes through which he could see the scarlet fluid.

[You'll operate this, come and operate it.] 】

The adoptive father gave the order, and without hesitation, little Peturabo stepped up and began to operate the large instrument, which his adoptive father had taught him, and he was afraid, but he skillfully buried cowardice in his heart.

What the hell is this...... What to do?

Little Peturabo listened silently to his adoptive father's gasps, the thick smell of blood wrapped around the tip of his nose, and the shredded flesh splashed down, and sweat dripped.

"Alright."

He said as calmly as he could, and little Peturabo took a step back and stepped away from the instrument, covering his hands behind him as much as he could—his hands trembling slightly at the realization that he seemed to be hurting his adoptive father.

He turned his head to look at his adoptive father, who he had never seen before, and his eyes were unabashedly full of the kind of look that only a dominator had, not the usual expressionless face of an adoptive father.

[Good boy. 】

The adoptive father said,

"Come over now.] 】

Little Peturabo walked over obediently, frightened, and expectantly, he had completed the task perfectly, he was expecting a reward from his adoptive father, but his strange state and the blood that had splattered on the ground frightened him.

Little Peturabo's heart beat violently, and his adoptive father sat up with his strength on his feet, his warm but hard arms reaching out to him like steel.

The adoptive father gave him a hug.

Little Peturabo's mind went blank for a second, and he heard his adoptive father's chuckle, which was mixed with self-deprecation, sadness, and greed...... Extrication.

“…… Father—"

Click.

Peturabo let go of his hand expressionlessly, he watched the body unconsciously slide to the ground, his neck lying on the ground, the soldier was already waiting outside the door, the gene half-knockout on little Peturabo had already been completed, the next step was to wash away the memory, and then casually threw him into the subspace turbulence along with the nursery barn.

Perturabo calmly thought that he would return to Olympia, that he would forget everything, that he would remember only the Eye of Fear, only that what Perturabo had told him...... He will continue to bow down to those who are in high esteem until he ...... Until this Möbius ring comes to an end.

Perturabo took a deep breath, he let his mind touch the emperor, he realized that he was not so majestic anymore, he realized that he was just a king, he would not wag his tail at him anymore, no, not anymore.

He is himself, he is Perturabo, he will only satisfy himself and will no longer bow to that liar, the tyrant.

——————

Vashtor walked silently on the corridor of the Iron Blood, the Iron Warriors have successfully colonized many planets within the Eye of Fear, with the original primitive people who replicated the planet, Perturabo has completed the expansion of the army, his ability does not need to teach them anything, only need to implant seeds, and Perturabo will get a new data,

Perturabo even had no idea how to operate the Blackstone Towers on these planets—these were supposed to be taught to him by Vashtor in the future.

How terrible...... Vashtor thought that this was the monster they had fed, the out-of-control with the acquiescence of the gods.

As it walked down the hall, Vashtor saw the monster sitting upright on the Iron Throne, he belonged only to himself, he only satisfied his desires.

And now, it's clear that their desires are aligned.

Vashtor laughed, and fire erupted from its mouth, and it saluted gracefully, and the monster of iron and fire whispered,

+ Congratulations on your freedom, Lord of Steel. +

+ Now can we negotiate a true covenant? +

Vashtor was glad that it had made the right bet on the consequences of Perturabo's previous breach of the contract...... It was glad that he violated it.

5k words, no more, yes!

Heck, I don't know how to fall into the original body reasonably.,Actually, it's written here quickly.,It's really fine to write it for a week.,But then the pace is too slow.,So you can roughly understand how I plan to design the old skin () Okay, I don't know how to fall.,I looked for the original book and didn't learn it.

(End of chapter)