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

Page 875

Mortarian felt a chill run down his spine as the conversation gradually veered in a direction he didn't want to continue. This was the baptism that Slaanesh brought to a person—that was enough, that was enough, stop talking.

Accompanied by the distant, guttural sound of Angron's severed vocal cords and teeth being knocked out, and the grand, massive war unfolding in the distance through the porthole, the words spoken by Mortarion gave Mortarion a sense of humorous wit.

[I see,]

He spoke dryly, stopping Herrera from continuing the conversation. The Primarch suspected that if they continued, the Slaanesh would start discussing the details with him. Oh no, the Primarch remembered that perhaps Karas had been tormented by Herrera in the same way.

But these words did make Mortarion feel better, and he regained his initial anger—he was already deep in the abyss and vowed to drag everything he despised into it as well.

[I understand—let's discuss how to lure Hades.]

He specifically mentioned "Pluto," which caused both of them to faint at the same time. Herrera almost fell to the ground, but managed to maintain her balance in a strange way.

The Empire will help you.

Luo Jia's voice suddenly broke in. [Motalian] suspected that this bald man, who was pretending to be a shaman, had been eavesdropping for a while, but the powerful psionic aura emanating from him made [Motalian] wary.

Now, the bald man with a face full of prayers raises his head in a pretentious manner, looking at the star field where Hades is fighting with the Outer Ones.

He is getting stronger and stronger...

Luo Jia said softly, feeling a piercing sorrow. Was this the path Hades chose himself, or the path he was forced to take to protect the empire and its people? At one point, Luo Jia believed that he hated the emperor, just as he had forced others to sacrifice themselves. He had forced a complete human being to become a god step by step—and in this galaxy, a true human being was far rarer and more precious than a god.

How despicable and cruel they are to allow such a noble person to fall to such a low level, and yet that person still does it willingly.

If Hades's personal morality and character were as despicable as Neos', Luo Jia would not be sighing, regretting, or grieving so much.

The more he studied Hades and the Emperor, the more biased and conflicted he became, but without a doubt, they were both great.

Perhaps at some point, Luo Jia did hope that Hades would become a god—after which the galaxy would fall into true annihilation, which is consistent with the great catastrophe in some myths, after which the true chosen one would become the true master of the galaxy.

But he couldn't do that. Luo Jia knew what Hades' true wish was, an expectation so stubborn that Hades had never wavered.

+The Empire will first try to weaken Him, then we will release the power to attract Him, and He will leave the battlefield and enter the true anchor point we want Him to reach. +

[......]

[You mean you plan to stab Hades, who's currently fighting on the front lines for you, in the back, so he realizes he can't defeat those on the outside, and then he'll come with us?]

This can be understood in this way.

Mortarian clapped his hands, and the Primarch slumped back into his seat.

This is the empire, this is the emperor.

He said that covering his eyes with his hands seemed to indicate an unwillingness to face the situation.

Anyone can sell it.

He repeated it again, "[Anyone can sell.]"

From soldiers to kings, anyone can be abandoned as long as the deal is profitable, and anyone can sacrifice themselves for the continuation of the race.

You're wrong.

Luo Jia's voice was calm and expressionless.

+ It is humanity. Humans can abandon anyone for survival. Throughout history, the greatest and eternally celebrated people have always been saints who sacrificed themselves for others and for their race. This race is just like that. +

【Motalian】sneered twice, then remained silent, unwilling to continue Luo Jia's conversation.

Luo Jia remained silent for a moment. The [Angron] at his feet was still struggling, but its mouth had been sealed with black lines, so it could not speak at all.

The Emperor himself made considerable sacrifices—I believe that becoming the Dark Lord would have been at the top of his "unacceptable list" in his life plan, but he still threw himself into it.

He even wrote his own final fate, which included being killed by his own offspring, only in this way could he defeat the Dark Lord without troubling Hades.

This could even result in heavy casualties among his warriors—his Primarchs—but he still intends to do it. I feel sorry for Guilliman, Mortalian, and the others.

[...That primitive man is going to fight the Dark Lord?]

Luo Jia was stunned for a moment, then he realized who the "primitive man" was referring to.

Yes, Mortarion and Guilliman, and possibly other Primarchs, are tasked with killing the Dark Lord and completely dismantling the cannibalistic psionic authority.

[You mean, when we lead Him to the anchor point, Mortarion will need to fight the Dark Lord and will likely sacrifice himself?]

+...Yes? +

[Alright, then I have no objections. I'm very satisfied with this planned operation. Let's prepare to begin now.]

Okay, that's it. Why didn't you say so sooner?

He could only find a rare bit of amusement in this rotten mess where everyone else was just as bad. It was a case of the pot calling the kettle black. But he, Mortarion, was someone who would rest in peace in the Underworld Sea. As for the other primitive man? Hard to say. Mortarion sincerely hoped that his other self would be killed by the Dark Lord, preferably in a gruesome manner, and never be able to be resurrected.

If he pushes his luck a little further, maybe he won't die? Another [Motalian] dies, while he survives as the ultimate victor.

Hahaha.

A huge shadow rose from the corner, the gaunt Primarch patting off non-existent dust from his body, his eyes burning with a half-dead flame.

I'm ready.

His voice was hoarse, and tiny, deep purple flames ignited around the Primarch, teeming with rich Slaanesh psychic energy—[Mottarian] had once sold himself and his comrades for a good price, and ten thousand years later, that little treasury had grown to an incomprehensible level.

However, this was not enough for him to break free from the leash of fate.

Chapter 877 [319] People Reached a Consensus

First, wound Him.

【Motalian】Standing atop the altar, the ceiling of the indoor platform had already been slowly opened, and dazzling starlight and extreme cold rushed in together, but the people on the altar were completely fearless, letting their armor and skin be covered in frost, while their magnetic boots kept them firmly in place.

The once clear and transparent starry sky was now like a turbid river flowing into the sea, with two turbulent currents of different colors churning against each other. One was as black as ink, and the other as bright as the sun. Not far away, the black hole confronted the sun, which was even larger than itself.

That's cruel.

[Motalian] thought to himself that he felt genuine anger and sorrow for Hades—but what was even more sorrowful was that he knew even Hades would make the same choice, and that Hades himself was unwilling to fully ascend to godhood.

Those who are unaware of the truth yearn to become gods, while those who truly know the truth shy away from the throne of the gods.

You guys start watching,

Luo Jia's voice reached Mortalian's ears. Due to psionic communication, Mortalian could hear those words even though the place was a vacuum.

I believe in you.

The Primarch of the hovering head spoke quietly, seemingly communicating with someone of unknown origin.

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

+You are all key members of the Underworld Cult and have worked alongside him for many years—I believe you are very familiar with him and know when the best time is—but I hope it can be done as soon as possible. Don't worry, I will inform Guilliman and Mortalian. +

zizi.

Primarch Luo Jia's voice was cut off amidst the roar of the construction site. High in the sky, on the temporary scaffolding, Jin-306 slowly lowered his head and looked at Kirkland, who was silent beside him. Kirkland did not look at him. In the long howling of the wind, the Great Sage's voice finally rang out with a crackling electronic sound.

"This is a little different from what I imagined."

Kirkland said with difficulty,

"He hasn't won yet—and isn't the situation perfect right now?"

Jin draped his mechanical limb over Kirkland's shoulder and silently pressed it down firmly.

"Without knowing the full picture, we cannot make arbitrary decisions—but it seems that the true decision-makers of the Empire know we are here. I have confirmed the communication just now; it came from the highest level of the Empire’s central authority, and it is highly likely that it was a personal order from the Emperor or Hades."

Kirkland seemed to want to say something more, but in the end, the sage could only utter some meaningless electronic sounds, with Kim's arm draped over his shoulder like a silent chain.

Kirkland remained motionless, gazing at the bustling Guardians and Astral Legion beneath the colossal structure. They were the last forces, besides the Primarch leading his legions, to remain—this was the status and strength of the Cult of Mechanics; they were Hades's most powerful ally.

The electronic sound, like a faulty connection, crackled again.

"Can,"

Kirkland said calmly, then his voice suddenly rose, and he began to shout hysterically.

"Yes!!! Let us offer our final hymn to Him! Let Him witness the wisdom and power of His believers!!!"

"Attention all personnel!!! Order α-000!!! Warm-up! Start stage 3 engines—prepare for firing pins!!!"

The sound dissipated in the high-altitude gale, but Jin knew that the order had been issued. Not only this base, but all 137 temporary strategic bases throughout the star field had now received the order.

The great sage lowered his head and looked at the crowd on the ground, whose flow had clearly changed and was somewhat chaotic and noisy.

"Remember the Nicaea Conference? My friend, let's help him one more time."

But next time—Hekin will truly be retiring.

No one can withstand this kind of torment any longer.

………………

[Base 095]

[Engine started smoothly, power injection went smoothly, pipeline preheating completed, target primary positioning completed, target location XX.UHFR.876V, requesting confirmation of target coordinates from superiors, requesting more precise positioning.]

A colossal, dark eye, occupying one-fifth of the planet's continental plate, slowly turned. Tens of thousands of black stone spires together supported a flat, shallow, bowl-shaped black stone surface. Now, that flat surface was silently watching the location of the divine war, its eerie light reflected on its dim, deep pupils.

Beneath the man-made behemoth, countless red-robed sages and apprentices busied themselves, standing before a makeshift command platform, hastily controlling this colossus according to their training.

This was a historic moment, but the junior operators had no time to think about it. They needed to make sure their work went perfectly, and a tense atmosphere permeated the cramped base.

………………

Beep—! Beep—! Beep—!

The red alarm suddenly rang, and the warship, which was orderly evacuating, suddenly lurched, almost throwing Kriegmid, who was curled up in his narrow bed, off the ship. Kriegmid, who was conserving his strength in his sleep, woke up almost immediately, gripping his gun and jumping up.

Inside the same cramped cabin, the chemistry geek was still fast asleep with his arms crossed, but he started cursing and swearing at the bastard who was sailing the ship.

"Wake up, something has happened."

Krieg nudged the chemical dog, who then sat up, cursing Krieg's non-existent parents, and rubbed his eyes.

They have been withdrawn from the First Front, along with most of the Star Guardians. The Ministry of Military Affairs decided to transport them to the safer Third War Zone, while the front lines are now only open to Space Marine Legions, Mechanicus, Dual State Cults, and organized special forces.

"Urgent notice, urgent notice—everyone stay alert and immediately wake up everyone around you."

A bright red light flashed, and the somewhat old and worn-out warning light shrieked throughout the room.

"This warship, the Starlight, is currently located in the Second War Zone (BUJDF.21.DZ), within a special operations zone designated by the Ministry of Military Affairs and the United Nations. All Imperial citizens on board have been temporarily conscripted to provide assistance to the front lines in the name of the Emperor! Those who disobey orders will be executed on the spot."

Krieg heard faint roars and curses coming from the metal walls of the cabin, along with a few sporadic gunshots, but overall, the Astragalus rest area where he was located was quiet; people didn't have the energy or spirit to shout or yell anymore.

He subconsciously glanced at his chemistry-obsessed friend beside him, and thankfully, the chemistry-obsessed guy became interested instead—this Astral Army soldier wanted to die on the battlefield, rather than be sent back in a cowardly manner.

The broadcast was repeated several times until the gunshots finally disappeared.

Then, a sizzling sound was heard, and an extremely deep, hoarse voice replaced the servant's voice—such a hoarse voice usually belonged to a Space Marine.

Krieg thought to himself.

Inside the Starlight's command center, a Space Marine in strange armor was pointing at a microphone, with the captain and commander standing respectfully behind him—they had never seen a Space Marine with such a peculiar paint job, his dull gray armor covered in prayers, but he had come with the High Priest of the State Church and had given the correct administrative password.

Behind the Word Bearer, the Archbishop of the Divine Emperor Church, who had been resting with his eyes closed, remained silent, simply holding his divine staff. Over the millennia, the Word Bearers had not completely disappeared, but rather a very small number remained hidden within the state religion, the Divine Emperor Church. The state religion also stored enough Word Bearer gene seeds, waiting for the day when they would appear.

Not many people know about this. Saint Gilles is one, Guilliman is another, but what about the others? Perhaps even Hades doesn't know about it, unless he meticulously goes through the accounts of the state church one by one.

However, all matters related to the state religion were approved by Guilliman, while Hades was only responsible for Hades and Mechanicus.

"Citizens of the Empire, the Empire now needs your faith,"

The Man of Words spoke, his eyes flashing with an unnatural golden light.

"Faith brings strength, faith lays the foundation of the empire. Now the empire needs your prayers—pray to the God-Emperor, and only pray to the God-Emperor. Temporarily cease your erroneous act of praying to Hades—after the ban ends, you may pay homage to Hades, but now immediately stop these erroneous thoughts that should not exist in your minds, or you will be executed."

The Word Bearer finished speaking in an unquestionable tone, his words even carrying a certain irresistible power, like a shepherd tapping a sheep's head with a stick to guide the flock into the right pasture.

Then the Word Bearer stepped aside to make room for the high priest who had closed his eyes. The priest opened his eyes, stepped forward, and began to recite a prayer—a faint golden light emanated from the scepter in his arms.

The Word Bearer also began to pray, following the priest's words. He didn't know when a string of prayer beads had appeared in his hand, which rolled along with the Space Marine's devout words.

…………

Praying to the God of Gods instead of the God of the Underworld?

The thought popped into Krieg's head, and he felt it was somewhat absurd. He instinctively clutched the black stone necklace around his neck, the image of meeting Hades vividly flashing before his eyes.

But he didn't think too much about it; a good soldier is one who obeys orders, not one who is capable.

Krieg paused, carefully removed his necklace, and put the small black ornament in his pocket. Then he looked at the ChemDog, his pale blue eyes appearing as dull as plastic in the crimson room.

The chemistry student, who had been cursing and swearing, abruptly stopped under such a terrifying gaze. He felt a chill run down his spine—at that moment, his intuition told him that this mentally unstable kid had murderous intent.

"Good! Good!"