bookbashuk Page 817
Page 817
Good morning, everyone!
A noticeably energetic Killieman said that since retiring, the blonde Primarch has visibly experienced a second spring.
【Good morning. 】
Dorn came downstairs before Guilliman. He went to the stove as usual and began making his indestructible waffles, while Guilliman had already started reading the daily briefing on the control board. Finus was still standing on the stairs looking back at the guest room door on the second floor. Someone he was waiting for needed morning hair care and therefore couldn't be leaving so soon.
【Uh, sorry Magnus, but could you perhaps speak a little quieter? I think you might have other green spores?】
Guilliman coughed, and Magnus continued his hysterical cursing of Hades, his words laced with the malice of a scholar.
[Most of it was ruined by those two idiots, Conrad and Mortalian!!!]
The incident dates back two days when Mortarian poured his homemade hair loss potion into the Emperor's cup, and also poured some into Macardo and Conrad's as well.
That night, a dark figure screamed and frantically flung his hair out of the room, bursting into Mortalian's laboratory. He crashed into Mortalian, who was holding a vial of potion, like a cannonball. The two then began to fight, and the scene became quite chaotic.
Fortunately, Riemann Russ arrived in time and witnessed everything, and excitedly cheered for the two of them.
Because the battle was so intense, the two Primarchs, who were fighting freely on the ground, crashed through the wall—and unfortunately, Magnus Laboratory was right next to Mortalian Laboratory.
Magnus's meticulously cultivated replicas of the green-skinned Magkiss cells were almost entirely wiped out.
The laboratory was still being rebuilt, and a heartbroken Magnus, after a moment's thought, decided to let his poor cell culture dishes lie in the refrigerator for one night—after all, nothing could meet the needs of the culture dishes better than the refrigerator that the emperor had built for them.
But Magnus forgot that a monster who would take a bite out of everything also lived in the villa.
[You should know that Hades has a habit of rummaging through the refrigerator at night, Magnus. Aside from the bread slices the Emperor gave Horus, theoretically no food could survive a night with Hades present.]
Dorn frowned and began to reinforce his waffle fortress a second time, using honey and some cornstarch as a binder, otherwise, Peturabo's bombs would hit his breakfast the following breakfast time—
If Dorne's waffle fortress cannot withstand more than three bomb shots, he will lose his breakfast.
This is NOT food!!!
This is a project I've been developing for a month!!!
Magnus shrieked, but unfortunately no one was willing to comfort him—after all, it was Magnus himself who put the petri dish in the refrigerator.
Afterwards, an anonymous Hades commented that it tasted really good; he thought it was some melon-flavored maltose that Magnus had left somewhere.
It wasn't until the little creatures started screaming in his mouth that Hades realized something was slightly wrong.
So it was popping candy?
........................
Fake note:
Ugh, the exam is finally over. It nearly killed me.
I rushed to catch the train home today, and started writing after I got home around 8 or 9 pm, but nothing I wrote felt right.
There are currently too many perspectives to explore – because there are indeed many perspectives to tell, in order to ensure that they eventually converge into a single narrative. However, I'm struggling with how to present them better, and changing perspectives too quickly or too often is clearly not the right choice.
And, as the finale approaches, there are still a few points I need to reconsider regarding the final direction of the ending, which is why the related plot has been slow to progress.
To be honest, I really didn't want to end up writing something terrible, but when I started writing, I always felt like something was missing, probably because the god of inspiration was no longer on my side.
But I decided to give it one last shot, or rather, to push myself one more time.
I'm applying for a month's leave to reorganize my current storyline and try to develop a long-term plan. Given the many predetermined plot premises, I want to see if I can still create something special (well, if not, then it's just that the little lamp has burned out).
Xiaodengzi thanks all readers once again.
In fact, Warhammer's popularity has recently rebounded, so stopping updates at this time is not a wise move, as it means losing traffic and disappointing readers.
If it were the middle of the story, Xiaodengzi might have chosen to grit her teeth and continue writing, but now that "Stinky Canned Food" is almost at its end, Xiaodengzi just wants to give it a not-too-bad ending.
I started playing Warhammer in my freshman year and began creating fan fiction short stories. It's been two whole years since I typed "stinky canned food" on my phone during that winter break. There have been glorious moments and desolate ones. I've had sleepless nights because of inspiration struggles, and I've been tossing and turning and feeling miserable due to the lack of plot development and the pressure of my studies.
It can be said that the book "Stinky Canned Food" spanned a crucial period of my ideological transformation, accompanied me through what should have been a colorful two years of university life, and brought me countless thoughts and gains.
This book is also Xiaodengzi's debut work in the strict sense. Therefore, as I have reached the end, I am now severely lacking in inspiration and my physical condition has declined significantly. I just want to try to finish it well. I don't want to recreate the glory of the past. I just hope to give myself an explanation and also give the readers who have supported me to the end an explanation as much as possible.
I was the one who most wanted this book to have a perfect ending, but due to my lack of ability, my inability to construct a long novel for the first time, insufficient material accumulation, and the pressure of my studies, the plot, which could have been better, ended up being subpar.
Too many times before, due to the requirements of online novels and the performance of this book, I tried my best to update daily.
But this time, I'm going to stop and think about my story, and consider how to make the ending even more compelling.
The book has already achieved enough; I only hope to give it a good ending.
I apologize again for taking leave. (Red Bean Paste Private Marseille)
If I finish writing the finale on February 1st, I will release it all at once. If not, I will release the entire plot I wrote in January and then resume daily updates.
Chapter 829 [271] Survival, Fate, Justice
(At the request of readers, daily updates will resume on February 1st, with two 2-word chapters every day at 7:07 AM, until all the drafts are published.)
(Haha (Actually, I ran out of drafts very quickly))
'He...approaches'
In the distance, where the stars are torn apart by darkness, twisted tentacles float slowly in the void, accompanied by a sticky sound and a soft hiss.
The queen insect is contemplating, and the spirits of the nest are resonating.
The spherical energy object, drawing immense power, was approaching. The swarm had carefully avoided the bizarre madman, but the outermost entity unexpectedly began to move.
The Tyrannosaurus would be absolutely unable to face such beings, as they rely on biomass for survival and are not adept at fighting against extremely large energy entities.
'Stay away from...avoid...'
The instinct for survival made the swarm of insects gathered here restless. The queen insect could feel the unease from the end of the hive's will. The Tyranids were in fear, and the instincts within them were whispering for them to go away.
but……
but……
The tentacles greedily stretched and contracted in the void, like a wild beast wrinkling its nose to sniff out the scent of blood.
Swarms do not rely solely on pure instinct; the highest level of the hive's will ensures that they can engage in long-term planning, exchanging temporary setbacks for greater gains.
And now, that incredibly tempting existence is right in front of them.
'Star God...'
'It can... be modified...'
Weary from their journey, and ravenously hungry, even though the Tyranids had devoured countless star systems, they still couldn't reach higher levels of energy conversion. The arrogant beasts bared their fangs, gnawing away at the very grass on every planet.
Above them, the dazzling star still watched them, cold and merciless, burning, and continuing to burn thereafter.
They... could never bite off even a single bit of that sweet, tempting, and fiercely burning red fruit.
But now, an admission ticket is placed in front of them.
An organism that has been modified later in life possesses the common characteristics of both an energy-body star god and a living organism, and can easily utilize massive amounts of intense energy and convert it into matter.
Through Pluto, the Zerg will uncover an answer that will absolutely satisfy them. This will envelop their species, breaking the curse that is like a genetic lock. They will then step into a higher level of energy and matter conversion, carefully devouring every fruit on the galaxy.
This opportunity...
It's just...too...delicious...
Even if they are unable to decipher it, Tyrannosaurus can try to manipulate it... or piece together their spoils of war for their own use.
only……
Time was running out for them; the roar of a green beast came from in front of them, and the energy field behind them began to fluctuate.
Faster... just one more bite...
The miracle woven from genes began to move, and hundreds of millions of living ships appeared in the dim nebula where they were hiding, instantly shining with a dazzling, floating light like an intricate network of nerve ganglia.
Before the scythes of the outpost bees, the darkness, surrounded by an endless swarm of insects, roared.
..............................
This is destiny.
The beast warlord's eyes gleamed with an aggressive light, and he had grown to an unimaginable size, perhaps even touching the realm of the ancient orcs.
But the green-skinned beast knew it could not go any further, not even an inch.
Its inner demons, its enemies, its former mentors—all have locked this beast's path to further evolution. Only by defeating it! Only by taking one step forward can the Great Fang and the Underworld Clan truly find freedom.
A bustling swarm of insects, far more numerous than the stars, was reflected in the porthole before the large incisor. In this galaxy, it wasn't just the greenskins who wanted to behead Hades—
He was too powerful, too dark, and they could not tolerate his continued growth, or perhaps it was profitable for new challengers to obtain unimaginable treasures and weapons from the corpses of defeated heroes and royalty.
But for the Underworld Clan, Hades has now become a tangible "shackle." For the first time, this race, born under the ancient Holy Will, will raise the banner of rebellion against their so-called "manipulator."
Even though Hades was not their original enslaver, the big teeth knew that after they defeated Hades, their next target would be the Ancient Ones!
The Ancient Saint, the creator who has been lost in the songs of the Ancient Spirit Clan, for some reason, Big Tooth vaguely sensed that the Ancient Saint would reappear, or at least would not completely disappear.
So--
Let's fight now.
Big Tooth raised his head, looking at the Zerg who were racing against time to kill Hades. The feat of killing Hades would be etched in the annals of the Greenskin clan, not be beaten to it by mere insects.
It trembled, but not from the fear of its own front teeth. The giant battleship it stood on was shaking violently from the engines working at full power, and beside this most brutish and massive beast warship, its tens of thousands of beast brothers roared and poked their heads out.
....................................
silence.
The dark gray graves were silent and still; those who held dissenting opinions had long since vanished, and the rule of the royal family had no need for discordant notes.
But except for that low-class clown...
The great king's gaze pierced through countless times and the creations of humble races, looking at the dim point of the stars. The clown was still chattering incessantly, allying with foreign races and betraying the fearful, all for his fleeting dream.
Following the Silent King fleet, the inferior human fleet fought with all its might, but still could not catch up with its warriors, not even by a fraction.
"……hehe."
The cold laughter dissipated above the kneeling, bowed soldiers; only the king knew what justice and righteousness truly meant.
The actions of the other races are nothing but foolish, reckless gambles for survival, selfish and irresponsible. The galaxy is falling again because of this; the banished madmen have returned to the galactic stage; invading alien races are devouring the stars; and inferior races evolved from apes are making a ruckus.
The Silent King will stop this farce, this atrocity.
With its absolute strength.
....................................
"I have a bad feeling about this."
The cacophony of radio waves reached the ears of the Endless One, Tarasin. Tarasin sighed deeply, rubbed his brow in a human-like manner, and raised an eyebrow at the almost impenetrable swarm of insects.
Deep within the Zerg encirclement, where communication lights flickered, Hades was carrying out extermination work against the Zerg.
only……
"There are way too many bugs."
Hades objectively assessed that he was sweating profusely. The galaxy they were in had already darkened, as Hades had sucked the last star clean.
But faced with the overwhelming horde of Zerg, this energy was clearly insufficient.
"Tyren's attacks suddenly became more intense; they didn't seem to want to give up my genes easily."
"It could be an outsider."
Tarasin hesitated for a moment, then abruptly stood up and sprawled out onto the observation porthole in a rather unseemly posture, feeling a vague unease within him—
That was the oppression of the fearful dead by a complete star god.
Storm is coming.
“The ones on the outside… are very close to us now.”
"..."
Silence was accompanied by the roars of the Tyranids. Tarachin knew Hades was thinking. The space necromancer raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps we should contact the Emperor or Guilliman to see if they can delay the Outer Ones' entry into the Silent Eyes star system? If the Outer Ones continue at this speed, I think we should consider our escape route—we must break through the swarm's encirclement and hide on the other side of the Silent King's battle line before the Outer Ones arrive."
The only force truly capable of resisting the outsiders is currently the Silent King, who commands the entire army of the Space Necromancers.
In other words, if the outsiders arrive, Hades and his forces will need to take precautions in advance, cross the battle lines of the Zerg and the Orks, and circle around to the rear of the Silent King's battle lines to join up with the Imperial army of the human race that is pursuing the Silent King's fleet.