Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

Page 569

Saint Gilles shifted his gaze and indeed "saw" something in the direction Guilliman pointed: a wisp of mist, carrying a bit of ash... Ah, the slacking-off Mortarion.

Before the fog dissipated and shifted, Hades arrived at the battlefield. Hades skillfully waved his magical tools a few times in the white fog, and the surging mist instantly withered... Then a gloomy, tall, thin humanoid figure appeared in the bushes.

【No,】

Motalian said sullenly, "Absolutely not."

"I haven't even asked what I want to do yet, and you're already rejecting me?!"

Mortarian looked up at the strange human who had deliberately changed out of his heavy armor and was now wearing a yellow and black striped outfit that resembled some kind of bee.

There's also a headgear, and on the headgear are two tentacles.

【…】

You want me to carry you away.

"The enemy!"

Hades laughed twice, "So take me flying, old Mo!"

【No. 】

Mortarion resolutely refused, and the Primarch showed an expression of utter despair.

He spread his hands in a somewhat resigned manner; Mortarian was ashamed to show weakness.

But now he hopes Hades realizes that it seems ridiculous to put all his weight on his thin arms.

But Hades clearly didn't care about any of that. He began to explain the importance of manned flight to Mortalian in a "I have a dream" manner.

“I have a dream,” Hades said affectionately to Mortarian, “that the vast sky should not only contain the silhouette of a moth, but should be adorned with something more beautiful.”

[It could be a birdman, a thunder eagle, or a stormbird.]

Mortarian said calmly, glancing at Hades.

But it can't be a bee.

“I spent a long time choosing this outfit,” Hades said seriously. “Moth costume, butterfly costume… I think the bee costume best suits my hardworking image.”

【…】

Who did you lose a bet with?

Mortarian's dead fish eyes: [Lord of Mankind? Macardo? Or Karas Typhon?]

Hades, standing before him, wore an embarrassed expression.

"horse……"

Hades said quietly, and then fell silent.

Very well, Mortarian dead fish eyes, is it Makado, Magnus, or the fucking Macurag?

“I’m going to heaven,” Hades said. “I’ve been writing documents for ten years, nine months and three days straight. I’ve even been writing documents during the war, starting the second hour after fighting Slaanesh—I’m going to fly, no, to soothe my wounded soul.”

What's the stakes?

Motalian asked calmly, "Ten years on your behalf? A hundred years? Who hates me that much?"

Hades blinked.

"It's hard to say, but quite a few people hate you."

"You could have just told me," Mortarian said, his scythe gleaming. "I'd go tell him why it won't work, and he'd work for you apologetically—instead of coming here to torment me."

Mortarian looked at Hades, and Hades looked at Mortarian.

Hades remained motionless.

Oops--

This was Mortarian's first thought. He suddenly realized that the premise for this matter to have come to this point was that Hades also wanted to do it. In other words, Hades also wanted Mortarian to give him a ride, and this strange outfit was just an additional condition that Hades used to trick some fool into helping him approve official documents.

Mortarian spread his hands.

【no. 】

"You can do it."

Hades said firmly, taking a step forward and raising his hands, with a beauty that suggested he would immediately leap up and grab Mortalian should he try to take off and escape.

“I’ve submitted at least 35 takeoff requests to you,” Hades said. “Every time you either said you were busy or tired, old Mo.”

“The day before yesterday I asked the Lord of Red Sand,” Hades said, “and he said you’re in excellent condition right now—you just don’t want to bring your good brothers along for a ride.”

Angron calmly stood up and took a small step to the left. The next moment, the archangel was somewhat horrified to see white mist beginning to corrode the chair where Angron had been sitting.

"Yes," Mortarian said, "I refuse. It's too foolish."

In fact, the Primarch himself utterly despises flying; even the eccentric Mortarion would consider it undignified to fly.

After all, he wasn't a birdman; not all Primarchs fly with such elegance.

"Really can not?"

Hades spread his hands, looking intently at Mortarian. "I know,"

Hades said,

“I know you don’t want others to see you fly—but, Old Mo, after you take me with you today, people will only remember this one scene. That way, next time you fly, compared to today, people will think it’s acceptable for you to fly solo.”

【…】

Mortarian stared at Hades, whose antennae, still attached to the foolish bee, trembled.

"This is Hades," Mortarion thought. "Do those believers even know they're worshipping such a monstrous thing?"

"I think," Mortarian's gas mask emitted a cloud of poisonous mist, "that I won't be able to leave directly today?"

Hades nodded firmly.

........................

My eyes...

Angron said that the archangel opposite him simply covered his eyes with one hand, no longer wanting to see the overly offensive scene in the palace gardens.

The Lord of Red Sand sighed, his gaze fixed on the garden above, where a fluttering moth held a bee's hand in both, while Hades swung below... By the Emperor.

What struck Angron even more was that, although Mortarion appeared to be in despair, for some reason, Angron sensed a faint sense of joy in the Pale Lord…

He seemed to be enjoying himself, Anglo thought to himself... They're all lunatics.

Chapter 628 Fried Dough

Turn left and go straight, down the stairs, down the endless stairs. Hades clearly knew the way to the yellow weasel's golden toilet like the back of his hand.

The royal guards opened the door for Hades, who nodded and stepped into the royal hall.

"What do you want now?!"

Hades shouted, squinting at the weasel on the steps. At first, he would climb the steps to take a closer look at the old man—but now, Hades hoped that the weasel would add a ladder to the steps in front of his golden throne.

Hades believed that if information could be conveyed by shouting, there was no need to go up and down again. Perhaps winged Primarchs would be more comfortable when meeting the Emperor, since they could simply fly.

Yes.

The Lord of Humanity spoke with an unwavering tone.

???

"What?!"

Hades shouted again; he was already somewhat used to the weasels not speaking human language.

You may follow your heart, you departed soul.

Hades was taken aback. He wavered between the Lord of Mankind wanting him to carry out the Makado Plan and the Weasel really knowing what he was thinking. Then—Hades chose the second option.

"You know what I'm thinking?!"

Hades looked up at the Emperor, the golden sunlight shining on his face from the throne, while only the surging golden flames of the Star Torch could be seen in the dark domain.

+……+

I think I know.

"..."

Hades opened his mouth, frowning as he stared at Old Yellow Head, as if he were about to verbally attack him.

Hades's mouth moved for a long time, but he ultimately couldn't utter a few words.

"you……"

...I'm afraid he might have some serious illness.

Hades spoke in a low voice, but the Emperor interrupted him, the Lord of Mankind waving his hand and saying firmly,

+I only hope you stay true to yourself, Hades.

Hades's hand,

"That's not how you make empty promises—Nios! Are you trying to make fun of me?!"

I just wanted to encourage you, that's all.

The emperor calmly said, "It's nothing."

The light emanating from the starlight flickered behind him. The Lord of Humanity watched as Hades cursed a few times below the platform, then walked away grumbling.

"You wait, you old weasel!"

Hades yelled at the throne, "Wait till I'm done with this, you're not getting any juice! You wait, I'm calling Old Horse over right now to gank you!"

……

You're sick.

The Pale Lord's weary voice echoed from behind the Golden Throne. The Human Lord blinked and turned to watch his offspring emerge.

“I don’t think so,” the Emperor said. “I merely encouraged him.”

Mortarian glanced sideways at the Emperor, his tone becoming even more resolute.

【ill. 】

The Primarch said, his wings fluttering behind him. He stood casually to the Emperor's left, gazing in the direction Hades had gone.

“Well? You have already seen his full form under the radiance of the starlight,” said the Lord of Mankind. “It seems we share the same view on this.”

A puff of white mist escaped from beneath Mortarian's mask; the previously listless mist, however, shone brilliantly under the illumination of the starlight.

He... is still the warrior I remember, just a little more irritable.

"You seem to have something harsher to say to me that you haven't told me."

The Lord of Mankind remained expressionless.

You were sick back then, and you're sick now. I feel despair and grief because you are my biological father, you tyrant.

Mortalian said there was no fear whatsoever. "How did you come up with the idea of ​​pushing a weak, ignorant, yet conscientious person into the abyss back on Mars?"

The emperor's smile widened.

"But as it turns out, I succeeded, and I chose the right path."

[An attempt to merge humans with star gods?]

Mortarian glanced at the Lord of Mankind, [I don't know whether he is more pathetic, or whether I, as your son, am more pathetic.]

The Lord of Mankind calmly raised a hand.

“But it seems you’ve come to terms with it, while he… he’s clearly enjoying it. You’ve overlooked humanity’s desire for power, Mortarian. I merely helped him out and am collecting a little interest.”

You're sick.

Mortarian repeated it again with unwavering conviction, his withered body and tattered wings fluttering.

I have never been at peace—you created us, yet left us to fend for ourselves. I spent a thousand years, incompletely moving towards my goal, only to be told, just as I glimpsed a corner of the truth, that I was the biggest mistake of my life.

"There's nothing wrong with being a psionicist,"

The Lord of Mankind smiled.