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

Page 147

Mortarian stared at his "brother," the "brother" he had been promised, but who had now destroyed Mortarian's friend.

He shouldn't have any expectations of these "brothers"; on the contrary, he should be wary of them.

They died, never to return, on a remote, cold, and distant little planet.

His anger was ignited, a sense of powerlessness enveloped him, and immense sorrow and despair washed over him.

Mortarian stood there in despair, contemplating whether to strike Perturabo with his scythe again. It was all in vain; everything seemed pale and laughable.

A brief message was displayed on the screen projected by Peturabo.

[Sir, Danteok of the raiding party has awakened and his vital signs are stable. The rest of the team are still asleep and are not in mortal danger.]

Mortarian blinked. On the Deathguard's ship, the raiding warriors were still unconscious, but the Deathguard's apothecary told Mortarian that they were not in mortal danger.

This means they had no direct eyewitnesses to the battle.

"Call him over."

Mortarian spoke directly; this was not a request, but an order.

Perturabo stared coldly at Mortarion, but also ordered Danteok to come over. However, Perturabo did this not out of goodwill, but to prove that his command was correct.

He wanted Danteok to stand before Mortarion and clearly state the objective fact that Hades was dead.

As for Perturabo, he himself would stop Mortarion's scythe for Danteok as his reward to the Trident.

But Danteok's answer surprised everyone.

Danteok stood straight in front of the two Primarchs, wearing only the simplest combat suit after coming out of the medical room.

Danteok tried to keep a straight face, but he stared at the pale flames burning fiercely before him and the billowing poisonous gas. The two Primarchs, however, paid no attention to this; Perturabo and Mortarion were staring intently at Danteok as if he would be crushed to pieces if he uttered a single wrong word.

This situation was hard for Danteok not to find puzzling.

His legion commander, Peturabo, stared at Danteok and spoke slowly.

"Did you notice a Death Guardian named 'Hades' during this operation?"

Danteok felt a jolt in his heart; Hades' words seemed to still echo in his ears.

"Yes, my lord, I have taken note of him."

Danteok sensed that the atmosphere between the two Primarchs had become even more tense because of his words.

"Now, report to me the whole story of the battle, from beginning to end."

"And what that Death Guard did."

Danteok swallowed hard, trying to recall the details in his mind, but it seemed... the later memories were blurry.

But Danteok knew that Perturabo was not a Primarch who was waiting for him with good intentions, so he spoke up and decided to reason with him as he went.

A stern, emotionless voice echoed in the corridor.

Danteok sensed that the commander of the Fourteenth Legion was irritable, but still let Danteok continue speaking.

"After analysis and comparison, Hades decided to launch an attack and consulted with me."

Before Danteok could finish speaking, Mortarion let out a loud breathing sound, like a tuberculosis patient struggling to breathe before dying.

Perturabo glanced at Mortalian; Perturabo's surface remained as unmoving as steel.

"continue."

Danteok swallowed again and continued.

But compared to before, Peturabo felt a slight pang of regret for the now-dead Death Guard.

Such a clever Space Marine, who could even understand Perturabo's schemes, is a rare find these days.

Perturabo simultaneously enjoyed the sound of Mortarian's dying breaths, but deep down, he probably really hoped that Mortarian was actually dying, just as he appeared to be.

"Then."

Danteok paused for the first time, a puzzled expression on his face.

Perturabo's annoyed voice rang out, even though Danteok was about to get to that part, the part that would determine whether he won or not.

"continue."

Danteok hesitated; his memories were like distorted and blurry fragments, large sections of white and black covering them.

Roaring, purely blurry black blocks.

"I...I forgot?"

Danteok muttered something incredulously in a low voice, but he immediately gave a formal and serious report.

"My memory has been damaged, sir."

"Aside from some images that are so oppressive they're practically black, my memory ends there."

The two legion commanders opposite Danteok were taken aback.

"what do you mean?"

Peturabo roared,

Mortalian, who had just been heartbroken, opened his eyes wide. It was a symbol of having come into extensive contact with Hades' Black Domain.

He...but...why would Hades use Dark Domain on friendly forces and where is he now?

But this provides Mortarion with a sliver of absurd possibility.

Could the Dark Domain have saved Hades from the Iron Warriors' bombardment? But if so, why did they find nothing during the ground search besides what appeared to be the wreckage of Hades' helmet?

Thanks for subscribing, happy reading! (_)

The aftermath of yesterday's bad luck:

The dorm supervisor returned at 10:30, took the key, and went inside, while my roommate returned at 11:30.

And another thing! 4 words a day! Even with double updates, that's still 4 words!! That's not short!!!

Chapter 165 The King of Figurines Makes a Grand Debut!

The quarrels and commotions on the battlefield seemed so distant and insignificant—

Hades is sleeping.

The feud between Mortarion and Perturabo doesn't currently disturb Hades' sleep, just as he can't hear Angron's roar.

He hadn't slept this comfortably in a long time, even though Hades felt like he was sleeping sitting up.

No, this isn't about the Death Guard squeezing out the warriors' sleep time or deliberately preventing the Death Guard from sleeping. While the Death Guard is frugal and values ​​perseverance, they wouldn't treat Hades like this.

The main reason is that Hades' configuration for Death Guard is standard. What does standard mean?

For Hades, who is noticeably larger, this means he has to be careful every night when he goes to sleep, otherwise he will find himself lying on the ground when he opens his eyes the next day.

The bed is too small.

Not just the bed, but also the table, chairs, and spoons.

Primarchs have personalized customizations, but he doesn't. But Hades felt it wasn't that important, so he decided to continue waking up on the floor every morning.

Hades has complained more than once about why Space Marines couldn't add something like adjustable height to their furniture.

He had originally planned to modify it himself, but he didn't have time. Before Hades could even renovate his cozy little bed, he was already here.

So, where is he?

Hades reluctantly sat up from the warm table, his head resting on the floor. Ah, how perfectly the table and chair suited his size! He casually wiped away the drool, and sleepily opened his eyes—

The space necromancer's wise green eyes were staring at him.

Damn it? !

Hades snapped to attention and jumped up from his chair.

Lacking weapons, Hades simply pulled up the chair he had just been sitting on (which was originally fixed to the ground), with its four legs pointing towards the large undead.

Although Hades felt that this defense was not very useful, he still decided to put it into practice first.

Only after completing this defensive maneuver did Hades begin to carefully observe his surroundings.

Is this a reception room?

In the empty room, apart from a table, a vase, two chairs, and a necromancer in front of Hades, there was nothing else.

Some intricate and regular patterns are carved in the four corners of the room, as if breathing, faintly emitting a green light.

Hades decided to turn his attention to the only two "living things" in the room—

The undead was staring at him with great interest.

Hades swallowed hard; he roughly knew who this person was.

It's the king of figurines, Taracin!

This is a necromancer overlord with a distinctly "necromantic" style. While other overlords are either delirious from sleep or obsessed with killing, Talazin is keen on using necromancy's high technology to collect anything in the entire galaxy that interests him.

For example, an Oglin who can count to nine, a Death Guard who loves to take baths, a green-skinned creature painted entirely purple, and a hair of Horus.

Cough cough cough, no, Taracin actually likes to collect rare and hard-to-replicate things. These things make Taracin feel that it is still alive, rather than dead—turned into a lifeless skeleton.

Hades realized that this time, this time it was probably the case that the figurine collectors would finally become figurines themselves.

He briefly recalled the Ascended Old Mo that he had meticulously painted and displayed as a figurine.

There's no way to struggle.

His presence here meant that he had completely entered Tarachin's control.

Hades' eyes were lifeless; in this state, there was no hope that anyone would come to rescue him.

He didn't believe that Mortarian, or Perturabo, or anyone else, could see through necromancy technology and find him from the Figurine King.

There's no hope. Gather yourself up and go into the stasis field display case.

No, he can still struggle!

Taracin didn't throw him directly into the stasis field, but instead left him standing here, conscious, which proved that he still had a chance!

Having just woken up and figured things out, Hades cautiously stared at the figurine king Tarasin opposite him. The man was resting his chin on his hands, completely unconcerned about Hades's wasteful behavior.

Hades somehow managed to glean a sense of fascination from that green light.

Are you watching a play here?

Although Hades wanted to say a few words to this person, he had no choice but to bow his head when he was under someone else's roof.

Hades, having figured it out, gently put the chair down again. A little embarrassed, he tucked the chair legs back into the hole in the ground and then sat down again.

Hades regretted not wearing a helmet. He tried his best to keep a serious expression on his face as he stared back at Tarasin.

Tarasin remained motionless, and Hades suddenly hesitated. Could it not be Tarasin?

After all, Hades had no knowledge of the patterns of the various dynasties of the Necromancers in space, so he couldn't tell if this was Tarasin.

Hades hesitated for a moment before speaking.

That "Hello?"

The undead on the other side finally made a move. It touched its chin with interest and stared at Hades as if appraising a treasure.

"Hello, Hades of the Death Guard from Barbaros."

"Or rather, outsiders?"

Upon hearing this name, Hades did not make much of a statement. As a necromancer overlord with eyes and ears throughout the entire galaxy, Tarachin knew many secrets of various races, and it was highly likely that Hades would be just as important.

Hades nodded, which was taken as tacit agreement.

“I am Tarasin of Solemnas.”

really!

Ignoring Hades's slightly changed expression, Tarachin casually snapped his fingers, and a cup suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of Hades. Hades looked down—

Holy crap, a sugary drink?!

The black liquid was bubbling, and square ice cubes floated happily inside.

Hades felt a strong sense of unreality as he stared at the "ordinary" Coke, momentarily speechless.