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

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Hades, or Vashtor? He trusted neither; he would only use them—no one could use him anymore.

Peturabo felt himself, felt all of this; he was everything. He listened to the sounds of his cells multiplying and producing, to the gurgling of his blood. His broken left leg still ached faintly, but that no longer mattered.

Because Peturabo knew that this body was no longer the shackle that bound him.

He recalled that glimpse in the illusion, the twisted figure in the huge nutrient tube in the laboratory—it was him, himself, his original form.

Perturabo was still very weak. Adventure meant risk and loss. His soul fire was weakened, but it was also brighter and closer to his original form.

Data, more and more data, particles of data relentlessly flooded him from the vast ocean. He was their true master; he felt every warrior, every vehicle of the Iron Warriors—

Now, he is them, and they are him.

Consciousness resonated; he seemed to sense the subtle whispers of everything, an extension of his will, and a vessel that carried part of his computing power. The stronger the legion, the stronger Peturabo became.

He became his own true master.

Peturabo was satisfied.

Even though he was still so weak, and even though his escape was extremely disheveled and utterly shameful—for Peturabo, for someone who had been shrouded in the shadow of being controlled and exploited since birth, it was all worth it.

He should probably thank Hades, Peturabo thought sarcastically.

What a "kind" person.

Slow footsteps sounded in his ear. Perturabo glanced at them arrogantly and saw the armor soaked in pus. The once bone-white power armor had turned into a rotten green, and some things that looked like bloated green potatoes were chirping and spitting out legs.

He heard Ingelser's sharp, leisurely greeting, Luo Jia's slightly surprised voice, and in the distance, Vashtor burst out with a crackling sound of burning furnace fire.

Peturabo turned his head, struggling to sit up, and stared at the newcomer.

He saw a warrior wearing MK3 armor, with fungi oozing from the gaps in the armor. Perturabo's gaze inadvertently fell on the pile of small bottles at his waist. The Iron Lord could see clearly that the rust fungus he was familiar with was among them.

Radon bowed deeply, then began to breathe heavily.

"Greetings, Lord of Calamity."

Peturabo raised an eyebrow, but he accepted the new title.

Radon chuckled憨厚ly.

“Praise be to the Father! I am so glad to see you now. This means that we have another crucial asset in our game, and victory is on our side.”

Luo Jia knelt silently beside Peturabo, his violet eyes thoughtful.

4.2, great!

Chapter 408 Two Unlucky Guys, Yet Also Lucky

【The Law of Faith】

[When the Steel Hand landed on the first batch of airdrop pods]

"You're going to extremes."

Kirkland slammed his hand on the control panel, causing all the buttons on the table to vibrate. In front of the sage, Angeltai, who had just spoken, subtly took a half step back.

"This is faith."

Kirkland spoke in a clear, mechanical voice, his pronunciation precise and methodical.

“He who cherishes words, you must have felt his majesty as well—haven’t you?”

Angelte paused, recalling the scene from that time, and the corners of the upright, speechless man's mouth tightened.

“But this is not a reason for you to try to change the doctrines of the Word Bearers; you have overstepped your bounds.”

He watched as the indicator light on Kirkland's face flashed angrily.

"Faith has power—I thought this was something I didn't need to explain to the Word Bearers."

Angeltai gripped the scepter of the Luojia in his hand, and took a deep breath.

"No, you are wrong. Faith is a guiding light, but it cannot give us strength. This was our commandment."

"You cannot rely on faith and gods."

Angeltai spoke seriously, the Great Sage paused for a moment, then laughed in a shrill, electronic voice.

"Is this your doctrine, Angeltai?"

Angeltai was silent for a moment.

"this is mine."

The man who kept speaking spoke softly, while Kirkland burst into laughter.

“I know that I have read 79.5% of the works of the Wordsmiths, and this kind of thinking is not reflected in your thoughts.”

“But I’m telling you now, faith has power, Angeltai, and it will be the best weapon to fight these monsters. The war of the mind can only be armed with faith.”

Kirkland stepped forward, and the Great Sage, as if about to dance a cheek-to-cheek dance, extended his main limb, raised Angeltai's right hand, and placed it on the chest of the Word Bearer.

"Now tell me, for Hades."

Kirkland said enticingly, and at the same time, the red robe behind the sage lifted, and Angeltai clearly saw the rising cannon carriage, the dark muzzle pointing at him.

Angeltai took a deep breath.

"Okay, I'll only say it once."

He compromised,

"For Hades."

Kirkland released his grip with satisfaction. The sage observed the violent trembling in the Word Bearer's pupils and the tension in his muscles. The Great Sage relaxed and stepped back, speaking as he did so.

“You are lucky, He is very close to us now, so He responded quickly.”

Angelte averted his gaze and spoke truthfully.

"I only felt exhausted, which doesn't seem to fit the description of 'giving strength to believers' very well."

He watched as Kirkland fell into an awkward silence; the Great Sage seemed somewhat uneasy.

"All right,"

Kirkland muttered to himself, his limbs tense and twisted together.

"Although I hate to admit it, facts and experimental data show that prayers addressed to [Hades] do not bring power, and do indeed have some impact on lifespan and control over the body..."

"...I tried changing it to Om Messiah, but the effect was not satisfactory."

Angeltai breathed a sigh of relief. He spoke, the darkness of that day flashing before his eyes.

"If what you say is true, a god whose prayers have negative effects... proves his piety through self-destructive asceticism?"

Kirkland suddenly shouted,

"That's because you haven't encountered them yet! In the name of the Great Sage Kirkland, I guarantee that if you encounter warp beings, other false gods—then Hades will be your only choice!"

Angeltai calmed down and looked calmly at Kirkland.

"What about the God Emperor?"

Kirkland suddenly stopped, and finally, the Great Sage could only reluctantly mutter a few words to himself.

"I don't believe in... false gods."

Angelty chose to ignore Kirkland's words and decided to end the conversation with his upcoming plan.

"So,"

Angeltai softened his tone.

“I will discuss with the Legion’s priest brothers and ask them to restore the second version of the prayer, and at the same time replace the word ‘Silencer’ with ‘Pluto’. This is the biggest concession the Word Bearers can make.”

He looked at the sage before him, who was silently watching him. Beneath the mechanical sage's body, the deep black metal emitted an ominous luster. In an instant, Angertai sensed a terrifying aura emanating from this great sage.

But in the next instant, the great sage reverted to his demeanor as a faith peddler, dramatically lifting his robes and bowing deeply to Angelte.

“That could be better… Given that a portion of the Word Bearers’ Legion has already converted to heresy, I hope this can be implemented as soon as possible.”

Kirkland's electronic voice is so cold it's distorted.

"At the very least, this part of the faith must be fully established by the time the Legion of Word Bearers arrives in Cardia."

Kirkland looked up, the red light staring mercilessly at Angeltai. Anger surged in Angeltai's chest; he knew perfectly well what the other meant—Kirkland didn't trust the Word Bearers.

Angeltai felt his jaw chattering.

But when Angeltai's thoughts touched upon reality, the anger in his heart instantly subsided. Reality was such that they... they naturally wouldn't trust the Word Bearers.

In fact, if it were Angortai himself, he wouldn't have allowed the Word Bearers to support Kadia simply by changing the doctrine, like Kirkland did—who knows if they might suddenly rebel again at the call of the Primarch Loka.

Angeltai took another deep breath, silently chanting in his heart, "For Luojia, for the Emperor," and just before he was about to chant "For Hades," the scepter in his hand began to glow slightly.

Kirkland yelled.

"for--"

Angertai lunged forward, trying to cover the great sage's mouth, but his hands groped haphazardly across the metal face. The sage spoke through a loudspeaker; he had no mouth at all.

Angelte cried out in despair.

"This is the divine emperor's spiritual energy—you cannot dispel it now!"

In reality, Angeltai didn't know whether it was his father Luojia's spiritual energy or the God Emperor's. It was most likely Luojia's spiritual energy, but he would never tell Kirkland this fact.

To avoid escalating the misunderstanding, Angerthai did not go any further. He held onto his scepter tightly while allowing Kirkland to point the weapons he had hidden under his robes at him.

Give me a few minutes, just a few minutes!

Angelte shouted,

"Otherwise—the Order of Silence will lose the support of the Word Bearers!"

Kirkland sneered, but the Great Sage did not go any further. The two of them stared silently at the scepter that was faintly emitting golden light. Angerte began to regret that he had just prayed to Hades.

A brief, awkward silence followed.

Angertai began to pray, silently reciting the names of the God Emperor and Luojia in his heart. This weathered warrior was certain that he had prayed with all his heart and soul.

He was already mentally overwhelmed: the departure and betrayal of his Primarch, the mission he was given, that receding figure... that receding figure... that receding figure...

Angerte suppressed his emotions, forcing himself to breathe steadily, and began to try to enter a meditative state, something the priest had taught him.

Kirkland was speechless. The Great Sage stared at Angorte, the golden light on his scepter growing brighter and brighter—no, it wasn't the scepter that was glowing, but rather… Angorte's own armor that was glowing?!

Inside the command room, the space began to distort slightly. Kirkland watched all this in astonishment. The sage wanted to call upon Hades, but the feeling Kirkland got from these golden lights made him realize that they were not malicious.

A thick fog rose, accompanied by an ominous stench. Kirkland knew it was a sign of witchcraft. Angertai's figure began to fade into the fog. Without hesitation, Kirkland shouted the prayer of Hades.

Enveloped in mist, Kirkland realized his mistake and fired a stun laser towards Angortai, but the beam vanished into the fog.

"For Hades!"

"...Kirkland?"

The great sage froze, realizing he had heard Hades' voice! It was undeniable; that weak, dying voice echoed from the mist.

"Pluto! Where are you?!"

Kirkland shouted, convinced that this was the real Hades, because that sense of powerlessness was guiding him toward the direction of the voice.

He stumbled and ran toward that direction, stepping over the corpses of countless Space Marines—the Iron Hands, the Iron Warriors, the Word Bearers, and countless stinking pieces of the Great Demon.

An uneasy feeling arose from Kirkland's thought engine.

"Lord of the Underworld?! Lord of the Underworld?! Where are you?!"

Kirkland sprinted forward, and finally, he saw that familiar figure—

"Pluto—!"

Kirkland shouted hoarsely. Through the layers of mist, he saw the figures fighting against the black stone obelisk. The corpses of the demon army were as numerous as grains of rice piled up in a barn. He saw Hades being entangled in battle with at least two tall figures.

He was dying.

Kirkland was fully aware of all this, and he ran forward desperately, waiting for him, Hades, waiting for your followers—

Hades continued his battle, while those entangled with him were clearly exhausted. Finally, Kirkland saw Hades raise his scythe, a flash of cold light, and Perturabo's head spun through the air—

Kirkland's excited radio waves carried through his speaker, but almost simultaneously, he heard the sound of an arrow being launched, carrying the power to overturn the entire galaxy, the ecstatic joy of a god about to fall—

boom!