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

Page 881

Large chunks after large chunks, along the wounds previously breached by the space necromancers, the Star God was patiently smashed piece by piece, and bright white liquid flowed out, each drop enough to ignite a large bubble on a planetary scale.

Now, those lights were fading, falling and scattering in all directions. Mortarian's eyes widened as he realized that the Outer One had truly reached its limit—

Those slender, fleshy roots extended from the Dark Lord's divine realm, piercing through the gaps and extending onto the pure energy body of the outer being. They impatiently wrapped around the sphere of light, taking deep root as if greedily absorbing something. The illusory space of the warp began to expand along with the extension of the roots.

The light fragments fell like rain.

Mortalian heard Guilliman's shout of warning. The Primarch's voice was loud and clear, reaching the ears of every warrior, but within the storm, they were still as small as flies. The howling, tormented fragments of the Astral were falling toward their location, frantically vowing to tear everything apart.

……

Mortarian sprang into action, gripping his scythe tightly and reaching out toward Guilliman's location. Falling with the rain of light were not only fragments of the maddened Star God, but also the flesh and blood of the Black King, the power of the Dark Lord torn apart by the Star God, all falling toward them.

+...I'll do it. +

Mortarian raised his hand, his gaze resolute.

+I can suppress it. I'll act as the nexus relay hub. Guilliman—you're responsible for staying sane. You're the commander. +

Mortarion watched as Guilliman opened his mouth as if to say something, but he didn't give him the chance. The next moment, the phantom of the Pale King reappeared above the domain jointly created by the two Primarchs.

Mortarian gasped for breath—he had to admit that after sharing Asgard with Guilliman, the Pale King found his psionic capacity and regeneration speed increasing, and his psionic energy resonating more easily with the warp.

A few bright yellow bolts of lightning rose from his feet, instantly covering the white bone helmet. Grayish-white mist rapidly poured out from the gaps between the bones, gathering like a soaring white dragon rushing towards the starry sky, baring its fangs and claws as it charged towards the falling fragments of chaotic psionic energy.

A creaking, groaning sound came from the Primarch's armor. Guilliman turned around abruptly, but the face of Death, shrouded in mist, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, black and gold specks, like splattered bamboo and tears, spread and grew on the pale bone fragments, quickly covering his entire body.

Don't overexert yourself.

Guilliman cautiously advised, and began his own actions. He successfully made contact with Angron, who generously lent Guilliman most of his psionic energy, causing the Primarch's blue eyes to glow even brighter.

The magazines were empty, the magazines were emptied, but the countless cannons mounted on the Titans and Knights turned again, gleaming with golden light, aiming at the meteors in the sky—the fragments of stars were still locked in combat—Boom! Boom! Boom!

Fireworks exploded one after another in the sky. The ammunition was no longer supplied by the Imperial logistics, but directly from Primarch Guilliman's psionic power.

The claims of insufficient ammunition and overheated gun barrels are lies of the physical world.

That's all there is to it...

The pale giant breathed, and countless fine, golden-black powders floated around him. Wisps of black shadows spilled out from the white mist, drifting and ethereal, and in a trance, they transformed into humanoid believers who were praying.

In the blink of an eye, more ghostly figures composed of black gas appeared. They did not face Mortarion, but rather the black sun on the horizon, kneeling again and again.

Mortarian's face darkened, and the next moment, a chattering sound suddenly rang out from under the wings of the Grim Reaper. Then dozens of small, round, trumpet-shaped Death Guards emerged, wielding their long scythes and striking at the shadows. The scythes cleaved through the shadows, shattering the superstitious ghostly figures.

At that moment, busy with psionic energy management and commanding the battle, Guilliman suddenly glanced at the little ones at Mortalian's feet. Mortalian's face darkened even more, but before Guilliman could speak—

Another strange event has occurred!

A dazzling, all-encompassing white light exploded from above!

A deafening roar seemed to turn the world upside down, a white expanse appeared as if time and space were reversed, countless stars vanished in an instant, the moons paused for a moment, all the suns turned away in regret, and the Milky Way seemed to boil over, enraged, and resentful—in the past, billions of purifications gathered in the heart of the golden sun lotus, only to condense into crystals of rules. The Star Gods should have been the rulers of the stars and the masters of the Milky Way, but their fates ended here.

The Star Master remained silent.

The Star Lord remained silent, simply extending his hand. Countless wisps of light, resembling starlight, moonlight, and flowing water, cascaded from his palm. He slowly plucked one of them, twirling it between his fingertips. Then, a dazzling green light began to spread rapidly from that single wisp.

+Outer side. +

The Star Master chanted in a low voice.

+ Deserters, those who narrowly escaped fate's judgment, cowards, madmen—the Star God's destiny should have ended completely tens of thousands of years ago, but because of your self-exile, this suffering has been prolonged for countless millennia.

+The fate of those who fear death is intertwined with that of the Star Gods…+

Since they discovered this greedy creation atop the star...

The Star Master carefully examined the emerald thread. In the distance, the dazzling light dyed the entire Milky Way white, almost turning it into a spotless white silk scroll.

+You left without saying goodbye, and even those who fear death have waited for you for countless years.

The Star Master raised his eyes and looked directly at a blank sheet of paper in front of him. If the Milky Way were truly so plain and white, that would be perfect, as it would be ideal for writing down destiny line by line.

But life is mostly unsatisfactory.

The white light dimmed along the outer edge, revealing a truly filthy corner of the Milky Way. The Star Lord heard the dying screams of those on the outer edge and the Dark King's laughter as he was severely wounded—the war between them was not worth recording or watching; it was too filthy.

One final, powerful blow is needed, but it's clear the Dark Lord can't deliver it now; He's expended too much energy and can't recover for the time being.

The final blow... of course, should be delivered by the Fear of Death.

The Star Master calmly thought to himself, as he stretched out one of his hands, upon which floated a strange geometric shape resembling a hyperdimensional Rubik's Cube—a wonderful little tool that he and the Emperor would plan to use later.

With her other hand, a pure silver thread floated down lightly from the emerald green silk thread.

+Last words... Die, die, die, die your mother, die Tarasin. +

"Orican cursed, then stretched out his hand, and two threads floated out from his palm, intertwining together in the bizarre and flowing space-time.

As the ruler of the stars, He has already severed a true boundary with the fate of those who fear death, and therefore cannot be entangled with the final cause and effect of the star gods.

But He just happens to have a scoundrel here who enjoys hanging out with the star gods.

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

Amidst the chaos, Tarasim slowly rose to his feet, clutching his scepter in his hand.

It blinked and looked a few steps away from it at the dying Star God, a humanoid energy form as tall as a person kneeling on the ground. Further away, a fleshy creature was laughing loudly, but Tarasin could tell from his panting laughter that he was not in good condition either.

But that's not Tarasin's business.

Since opening his eyes, Tarasin's entire attention has been focused on the star god in front of him. Countless strange fragments are scattered around the star god, including tiny flames and black silk remnants... but they are all broken beyond recognition and pose no threat.

Tarachin gripped his scepter tightly and took a step toward the outermost one.

With one step, the vast sky and sea opened up, the desolate scene vanished instantly, and countless mountains roared and the sea surged forth. The high platform rose, and countless fearful of death cheered on the platform, shouting and waving at Tarasin.

Tarachin! Tarachin! Our King!!! The last and greatest of the last kings!

Taracin should have been shocked, but it simply took another step toward the outermost side, one step at a time, in utter silence, as if the world had vanished, and once again it and the outermost side were the only ones left.

“Why choose us?”

Taracin said that it asked the question subconsciously, not expecting an answer, but the struggling light figure suddenly stopped struggling and stared straight at Taracin.

one word at a time,

Those who are both insecure and unwilling to accept their fate are most easily deceived.

Tarasin felt so angry he laughed.

That's it?

It suddenly turned to the side and began to mutter to itself.

+No, why am I wasting my breath talking to this idiot?

It said, "Take another direct step," and raised its scepter high, and the cheers of thunder and tsunami erupted once more!

The scepter, raised high, suddenly slammed down! Once! Then it was raised again—and once more! Twice! Three times!!!

boom! boom! ! boom! ! !

The dull, heavy sound echoed across the filthy wasteland, carrying far and wide.

It extends as far as the rise and fall of a race.

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

boom! ! ! !

The silent, magnificent explosion burst forth like a tsunami, sending thousands of fragments flying across the Milky Way like pebbles skimming the surface of a lake. These fragments would become scattered fragments of star gods throughout the galaxy, writing the first chapter in the legendary tales of countless individual heroes to come.

The first thing to note is that there are the remains of gods in this strange place, who fell here after a thousand years of divine war.

If it weren't for the Star Masters still controlling the necessary logic and spatial dimensions, this explosion would have wiped out an entire star field within the galaxy—but fortunately, not only are the Star Masters here, but the roots of the Dark Lord are also deeply embedded in this soil, stabilizing the space here.

But this also leads to a problem.

A rather fatal problem.

Originally, this was the battlefield between the Outer Ones and the Lord of Darkness, like two sides of a scale, one side being the physical world and the other the subspace. Now, the Outer Ones have been completely shattered, and Hades has been lured away.

The balance scale, symbolizing the complete weight reduction on one side of the physical world, begins to tilt upwards, signifying the arrival of the King of Darkness on earth—the process of overlapping destinies begins to accelerate.

It's like a heavier pebble falling on top of two nearly touching thin films, pulling the upper film to adhere to the lower film—and now, the two films have two different fates.

As for the stones... one is the Dark King who received the power of the Dark King, and the Dark King who merged with the power of the two emperors.

The other is... The Star Master turned around and looked at the star of ancient times, where destiny and spacetime were in chaos. Above Caliban, Tzeentch was also returning to his former gambling table.

Now, weighed down by two pebbles, their destinies begin to intertwine, overlap, and become chaotic.

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

Guilliman blinked in surprise. After a blinding flash of white light, the Primarch finally regained his sight after a brief period of dizziness.

Amidst the falling fragments of the Star God, he slowly lowered his head and saw a small grass unique to the Terran Palace beside his boots.

I don't think I quite understand.

Guilliman spoke slowly, while Mortalian beside him also assumed a wary stance. The two Primarchs exchanged a glance, both seeing the confusion in each other's eyes.

The sounds of Ultramarines and Death Guards attacking the falling Celestial fragments were still deafening, but at this moment they were also in a location similar to Terra Palace—the Death Guards and Ultramarines were launching an attack on the Celestial fragments in the "Terra Gardens".

The sound of hurried footsteps rang out, and Guilliman and Mortalian turned their heads at the same time, their eyes meeting, and they were both startled.

+Saint-Gilles?! +

+Killiman?! Mortalian?! +

+How did you end up in this fate too, Killieman? Or did something happen?+

Saint Gilles pressed on, while the vampire beside him looked hostile. Saint Gilles pushed aside the archangel and hurriedly headed towards the collapsed underground palace.

Sorry, I'm not entirely sure either—but I think this place might be—more than just the palace.

Guilliman pointed to the sky, and Saint Gilles turned his head. Upon seeing the countless fragments of the Star God falling from the sky, his expression suddenly turned pale.

I initially thought those were Imperial Navy ships.

They used to be—but they aren't anymore.

After a long silence, Mortarian finally spoke, turning his head to look at the vampire [Sanguis], who was already some distance away from them, his eyes thoughtful.

I think this symbolizes the overlap of destinies, which overlap with the Emperor as the anchor point. The Emperor is the primary element; time and space are not. In other words, when that old man on our side was in the Eye of Silence, that bastard on this side was in Terra. So when destinies overlap, these two spaces will superimpose.

+Will it also accumulate in other places?!

"I can't believe it," Killieman asked anxiously, as if he had just remembered something, and almost instinctively shouted.

He might have thought about the imperial infrastructure he had painstakingly built over thousands of years and the various worlds that might begin to overlap with this place—Guilliman dared not imagine how many worlds would immediately be plunged into war.

Is it possible that due to spatial misalignment, most imperial worlds wouldn't overlap with the chaotic imperial world, but instead would overlap directly with the void?

The Emperor of the Empire practically gripped Mortalian's arm guard, determined to get an explanation from him, but Guilliman was already drafting his will in his mind—he had skipped the step of writing an emergency plan.

Well, he failed. In fact, the emergency plan and the will were drafted together.

Mortarian stretched out his hand, frowning as he pointed at it. Calculations are rigorous and complex, requiring complete concentration, which is one of the few hobbies that Mortarian has preserved to this day.

It won't be that fast.

Then the Primarch said with certainty,

Because we are closest to the Emperor, this is where the overlap began first—but as time goes on, more spaces will begin to overlap.

Guilliman breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't been this disheveled even when facing a fully formed Star God. The Primarch took a deep breath.

Then let's finish this quickly.

Killieman said dejectedly,

But... no,

Mortarian frowned, still calculating something.

There should be another anchor point, which I think should be Tzeentch. Tzeentch's location is very vague... making it even more difficult to calculate and observe.

I still suggest you don't give up, my brother.

Saint Gilles suddenly spoke, the archangel smiling, though the smile was somewhat eerie, as he looked at his two brothers who were already lost in their own worlds.

The archangel nodded, gesturing for the two Primarchs to turn around and look.

Mortalian and Guilliman blinked, then turned around abruptly—

They saw Saint Gilles carrying Horus and charging toward them.