bookbashuk Page 799
Page 799
[You're so nice... bro.]
Angron got goosebumps all the way to Mount Everest, standing shoulder to shoulder with Titan.
Then the maniac drank it all in one gulp!
—?! !!!
The initial taste of the liquor was merely slightly bitter, with a burning and stinging sensation, but after the first sip slid down the throat—
[…cough cough cough!]
[Motalian] suddenly lowered his head, his face pale and his eyes wide open. Because of etiquette, he could not spit it out directly, nor could he let his cheeks be filled with food or drink. Therefore, he could only swallow it down. His pupils trembled, and the chief rebel covered his mouth with his hand in a sorry state.
Ah… Mortalian thought happily, the First Rebel wouldn’t speak for at least the next three seconds, because his tongue had already been completely corroded.
On the other side, [Angron]'s reaction was also somewhat awkward, with the Primarch shuddering violently.
He has tasted countless irritating liquids... highly toxic, highly irritating, highly corrosive, highly psionic, parasitic...
But never before has a liquid struck so directly at the heart, as if the bartender simply wanted to disgust people, hoping to choke an entire universe to death with this drink. So this drink was created.
[Angron] put down the empty wine glass with a slightly trembling hand. There were traces of wine at the corner of his mouth, as if he had almost spat it out. But after a brief shock and fear, Slaanesh's favorite had already begun to savor the feeling.
The lustful [Angron] decided to bring some back for [Kahn] to try.
Motalian made no attempt to conceal his admiring and gloating gaze. He stared intently at his other self and picked up the flat bottle again.
How do you feel?
[Just like yours—disgusting.]
[Extremely high rating.]
Mortarian spoke softly, took two more glasses, and then filled four goblets. Angron's smile beside him seemed to become somewhat forced.
It doesn't matter; consider this punishment for Angron disrupting Mortalian's plans.
After a brief silence, the other maniac raised his glass again, his eyes gleaming as he stared at the even wilder Mortarian—
The other primitive man, Mortarian, seemed to have a different kind of charm compared to the refined gentlemen on his side.
[You're a genius, another Mortalian—how did you manage to make this?]
Mortarian lowered his gaze, raised his glass, and continued to stare at himself across from him. After a moment of clenched teeth, he raised his glass again.
[Resistance]
Mortarian said calmly,
Rebel against all of this, and then you can brew this poison, but I don't think that's my limit, nor is it the limit of this drink.
He tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. Then he put down the cup, leaned forward, and stared up at the trembling pupils of [Motalian] like a venomous snake climbing onto the table.
Such rudeness, such vulgarity—this was Motalian, and another place that shocked and horrified him—they could not tolerate the behavior of the person opposite them.
Mortarian lowered his voice to a very low hue.
My true masterpiece... black liquor, requires a special ingredient, ground black stone powder by a master hand... You know how peculiar they are, another version of myself... I think you absolutely must taste this liquor at least once.
Can you truly bring yourself to confront it? Not just glance at it, but let it permeate your entire life… The cross on the priest's head, the whispers and prayers at the bedside of your offspring, the ornaments on your servants' waists, every vehicle you ride will bear its scent, every weapon you wield will carry its mark… It is everywhere, forever whispering in your ear, your eyes will be permanently shrouded in darkness, your proud warp arm will be severed, and you will need to listen to it day and night, to gaze upon it, for it is the truth that runs through the Imperium.
Instead of simply telling yourself, when you're facing him, that he's there, watching you with your short-sighted physical perspective—but he's always been there, always present, watching you, drooling and starving.
[wow,]
[Angron] blinked, and said somewhat abruptly,
[This doesn't sound like alcohol—what's so stimulating?]
This sounds even more chaotic and evil than chaos itself.
The First Rebel was completely shocked by Mortarian's rudeness and words. He swallowed hard and was about to reply when Mortarian interrupted him.
Mortarian tilted his head.
I can.
He says,
I can endure—and all that you see, all that you see of those spirits, so small and dim compared to you—we can all endure, for the final victory.
So...can you do it?
[......]
The first rebel, [Motalian], downed his drink in one gulp. The nausea and dizziness made him feel unwell. He swallowed again, facing Motalian's provocation head-on.
Their conversation was only audible to the two of them.
[I served Robert Guilliman for ten thousand years… what could I possibly not endure?]
Hehehe.
The answer was humorous. Mortarian chuckled and sat back down. Angron suddenly realized that staying here wasn't a good idea either; the confrontation between the two Mortarians was a bit too sharp.
But compared to being groped by another version of Slaanesh, everything is bearable, it's an uphill climb, bright, and acceptable.
Sure enough, as soon as Mortarion sat back down, the Frenzied [Angron] immediately moved closer—
Mortarion's actions, which left the First Rebels in awe, shocked and aroused the lust of the Frenzied.
Angron's heart leaped into his throat. He watched as another version of himself touched the shoulder armor of Mortalian, while the First Rebel, clearly wanting the Madman [Angron] to turn the tables, smiled at Mortalian, holding a normal cocktail in his hand, and began to savor it—
In an attempt to regain his lost sense of taste.
[What an interesting Mortarion—far more interesting than the Mortarion I knew. Are you as evil as the Mortarion I knew?]
Mortarian sat there, motionless, like an insect perched on a branch, and gave the Madman a cold glance.
Compared to being held in Slaanesh's hands back then, the current situation is child's play for Mortalian—unless Slaanesh's version of Angron is Slaanesh's version of Mortalian, Mortalian will not be moved in the slightest.
Yes, I am more evil than him.
Mortarian said calmly that he knew what he was going to say next, something he had learned from Karas. Mortarian taught Karas how to chop people with a scythe, while Karas taught Mortarian how to stab people with words.
Mortarian imagined that Karas Typhon was standing next to him.
I have seen Nurgle.
Mortarian suddenly said something that clearly startled [Angron], who was stroking him.
[so……?]
What I mean is, if you don't have Nurgle's looks, don't humiliate yourself by trying to show yourself off. The most beautiful person in this world is Nurgle. Didn't anyone tell you that before you came here?
Motalian spoke fluently, while Angron beside him stared wide-eyed in disbelief. What on earth was all this?!
【in short,】
"Motalian said quickly,"
I know what you're about to say, but I'm sorry, I need to decline you in advance. You're simply not attractive enough for me; you're rather ugly. If you're willing to dress up, please at least try to grasp some higher levels of aesthetics, like Nurgle, or at the very least, a more sophisticated look, instead of being as ugly as you are now.
Mortarion nodded to the stunned Angron and gently removed Angron's hand from his shoulder armor.
【terribly sorry……】
Mortarian frowned and looked Angron up and down.
But you really don't inspire any desire in people, and that's not your fault. The aesthetics here are different from yours. You should forgive yourself.
Motalian paused for a moment; now, apart from him, the three people at the table were all dumbfounded.
But...excuse me, could you leave? Or would you be willing to call your other brother, Vulcan, over?
? ! ! !
With a short, sharp shriek, everyone in the hall looked at each other in disbelief, watching as the Frenzied [Angron] suddenly pushed open the door and ran away from the hall.
[laugh!]
[Motalian] could no longer hold back and spat out the wine in his mouth. He could only lower his head and cough awkwardly.
No more.
Knowledge entered my brain.
Chapter 814 [256] The Master of All Changes?!
【…】
【Well,】
The music stopped abruptly, and Anglon sat in his chair, feeling both uneasy and relieved.
He looked at Mortarian, who remained expressionless after uttering such earth-shattering words, and casually poured himself a glass of poison.
Should we...should we send someone out to keep an eye on him?
Angron hesitated for a moment. He hadn't expected things to progress so quickly—who would have known that Mortarion could pull off such an astonishing feat?
But in fact, Mortarian did it.
"I'm not going," Mortalian glanced indifferently at Angron. "Perhaps you're planning to recommend yourself to Guilliman?"
No, no, no, no, I think I'll pass.
Angron quickly refused, deciding to be an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
If he chases after him alone, and the Frenzied [Angron] suddenly goes berserk and attacks him, Angron might lose his honor.
With this thought, the Lord of Red Sand's gaze hardened. He resolutely met Guilliman's gaze as he looked in their direction, and Angron responded to Guilliman's gaze with his own—
He won't go.
I'd rather die than go.
Killieman could feel Robert's amused and provocative gaze beside him. He could only force himself not to sigh. Was he really going to let a Slaanesh wander around the ship? That was absolutely impossible.
Just as Guilliman was about to ask others for help, Saint Gilles' voice rang out like an angel's.
[I think we could go out and check the situation?]
The Blood Angel and the Ghoul were together in a dimly lit corner of the hall. Saint Gilles leaned against the wall, swirling the red wine in his hand, with drops of blood-like wine seeping from his lips. He looked relaxed, with a faint smile on his face.
Beside him, the ghoul Saint Gilles gave a playful smile, revealing his fangs.
In a dimly lit corner, their eyes gleamed with a blood-red starlight.
[Saint-Gilles?]
Before Guilliman could speak, the villain king beside him suddenly spoke with a cold face, and the ghoul he questioned bowed respectfully to Robert.
[I just wanted to see how another version of myself flies.]
The ghoul, Saint Gilles, spoke with a touch of roguishness, pointing his thumb at the angel.
[Besides... I also have some old scores to settle with Angron. He played a pretty big joke on Horus and me last time, and Horus was terrified.]
The King of Villains remained silent for a brief moment before turning back to look at Guilliman with a kind smile. Guilliman knew the matter was settled, so he quickly nodded to Saint Gilles to indicate his agreement.
The door was opened and closed again, the music fell silent, then began to flow again, as if it had just been a small interlude.
Mortarian knew it was over. As the victor in two rounds of verbal sparring, he casually sipped his homemade poison, without a thought of returning to reward Karas.
Would Karas really teach Mortarian swear words seriously? Of course not, he was swearing at Mortarian while teaching him.
Across from him, the chief rebel who had just coughed slowly raised his head and took a deep breath.
[Does this world truly find beauty in filth?]
Angron, standing beside them, nearly spat out his drink—how could they have actually believed Mortarion's words?! Did they really think they were so worthless in the eyes of the other side?
【No,】
"Motalian said slowly,"
We take something even more terrifying and disgusting as truth.
The first rebel, Mortarian, fell silent.
..............................
[Magnus?! It really is you!]
[Luojia] opened his eyes wide and stared at Magnus, whose figure was somewhat dim in front of him. Magnus felt a little uneasy under [Luojia's] gaze. He took a few steps back and let Conrad block him a little.