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

Page 771

“What I mean is—before he thought about the outsiders, Neos tried to talk to his ‘old friends’ first.”

"But they have all disappeared; there is no one in the garden, nor on the Blood Throne."

Makado coughed.

“I think I have made myself clear enough. If you have nothing else to do and no better solution, I will leave to prepare—this process will be lengthy, so I have to leave as early as possible.”

"The final question,"

Hades and Guilliman exchanged a glance, then Hades looked at Makado.

"How could he assume that the Outer Ones wouldn't continue moving towards the Empire after reaching the Misty Starfield?"

"The Emperor said he would personally take action—"

Although he can't directly confront the outsiders, he can at least prevent them from moving. Are you satisfied with this answer?

Macardo also seemed to be in a bad mood. After realizing that Hades and Guilliman understood, arcs of electricity suddenly erupted around Macardo.

Before Hades could even ask his ridiculous question, the old man teleported away.

"Where did he get that power from?!"

Hades shouted, staring at Killieman, who was looking at each other blankly.

After a terrible silence, Hades slowly spoke.

"Could he... have taken out another high-interest loan for the next ten thousand years of faith?"

Guilliman looked at Hades and spoke heavily.

[I have a more terrifying and irreverent hypothesis: after the Outer One arrives, all the Primarchs in this region perish... Could he then have had the opportunity to elevate Horus Lupecal to the throne?]

Hades shuddered and looked at Guilliman in disbelief, who was also clearly shocked by his own conjecture.

After a long silence, Guilliman spoke again, but his face was clouded with helplessness and sorrow.

Whatever...

The empire's ruler muttered to himself,

Let Horus handle the official documents; I can accept that, I accept it.

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

[A few days ago]

【The Tattooed One's Private Restaurant】

The lighting was somewhat dim, and the entire restaurant seemed to be in a distorted, dark golden vortex. The long solid wood dining table was a bit oily, and it shimmered with some dazzling white spots under the light.

"You still love this painting so much."

"Nios said, sitting at the very edge of the side of the long table, elegantly cutting a steak with silver cutlery, while at the far end of the table, Macardo was eating expressionlessly."

"I'll change it right away."

Between the two, the Mona Lisa hangs on the wall, staring at them and the tall dining chair that has just been hastily pushed away.

Nios brought Horus along, but the wolf god couldn't resist the strange atmosphere and left under some pretext.

Unfortunately, he was the Primarch and couldn't use the almost universal excuse of needing to go to the toilet.

"Don't be so boring."

The emperor raised his eyes, and casually picked up his wine cup.

“There will be outstanding painters after this, but there will never be another painting as perfect and unique as this.”

"Because humanity will cease to exist afterward?"

Macardo asked calmly, while the Emperor made a hurt expression.

"This possibility exists every minute of every day—but this time we do need to face a problem squarely: the engagement between the two sides has not been going very smoothly."

The Emperor was not omniscient or omnipotent, just as he did not know how many Star God fragments and the dynasty's army the Silent King could produce.

But through the enemy's war strategy, Neos realized something was wrong; a high-ranking general could sniff out clues from the enemy's tactics—

The Silent King's army was larger than they had imagined.

The emperor's fake smile was reflected on the swaying silver knife.

Logically speaking, the empire is likely to suffer a crushing defeat in this battle.

Or rather, there was absolutely no hope of winning.

But Neos could also clearly perceive the future, a future where he could continue to draw upon the power of faith and borrow from others. In any case, the future empire survived and continued to produce faith.

It's like a bizarre mathematical derivation where you clearly and correctly write down the derivation formula step by step, only to arrive at a "failed" result.

But the standard answer tells you that the final result of the derivation is "victory".

Then there is only one possibility: they need to introduce "unknowns," introduce something more chaotic, disrupt the originally clear and verifiable situation, and then fate will follow its course.

Neos had visited Nurgle's garden, but to his bewilderment, there was not a single fly or insect buzzing in the vast garden.

Even the stench had lessened considerably, and the familiar crucible and the figure beside it had vanished, leaving only a dried-up pit.

The corpses of Alpha vehicles lay silent on the ground.

Where did Nagou go?

Nios was astonished. He then visited the Blood Lord's throne again, but it was empty, with only the skull on the Skull Throne staring at him blankly.

Khorne has also disappeared.

The blood pool still contained countless Alphas that had completely lost their life force.

On that perplexing afternoon, the Emperor sat on his skull throne, the golden olive branch crown in his black hair gleaming.

The emperor pondered for a day and a night, and finally concluded that the two lines of fate were drawing closer.

The one that first began to merge, or rather, was replaced? Thrown into? Another fate line is the subspace.

But this time, his "old friends" were truly unable to help him.

So there are only two unknowns—but at least for now, the Emperor cannot make the two lines of fate intersect, so…

The outermost one.

The light and shadow on the wine glass flashed across the emperor's eyes, and he was momentarily dazed before returning to the restaurant in Macado.

Neos turned his head deeply, looking at Macado with the most sincere and loyal eyes he had ever held, eyes tinged with sorrow.

"Last time,"

The emperor solemnly swore an oath,

"This is the last time, Macado... After this battle, we will completely save all of humanity from the vortex of fate."

Click.

A crisp, light sound rang out, and Macardo silently put down his knife and fork. He had finished eating, and the old man elegantly wiped away non-existent crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin.

“You said the same thing last time, Neos.”

Macado spoke calmly, his eyes lowered, not looking at the Emperor, as if he were of no importance.

“You said the same thing the time before last—I think you’ve said something similar to me at least ten times.”

"I--"

Macardo interrupted the Emperor's explanation directly.

“Sometimes I curse the me who advised you to send troops, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

"I go."

Neos instantly perked up.

"really?!"

"Fuck you."

Macado stood up, and the next moment, his figure disappeared from the spot.

"If you're unwilling—you can give me the last fragment of Hip Hop's psionic energy, and I'll give it a try—"

Neos stood up and shouted, and a piece of paper suddenly fell from his shoulder. The emperor looked down and saw the words on it.

“I choose to believe you one last time—if you tell me it’s the last time again, Neos, I swear, I’ll show you the limits of what Killieman can do.”

Signed, Makado.

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

Barbarossa

This place is really nice...

As Mortarion thought about it, he looked at the bright sky of Barbarus and the cornfields swaying in the wind above, and the Primarch felt as if he were about to cry.

So this is what it means for Barbarossa to be so peaceful.

But no matter what, the hypocrite couldn't shed a single tear; he could only bend down as much as possible and place his hands on the corn seedlings swaying in the wind.

【Motalian】's palms were tickled by the tips of corn seedlings.

Herrera and Karas would certainly be delighted to see this...

Unlike Mortarian, Herrera would definitely burst into tears immediately, and then try her best to embrace the earth with her long, serpentine tail.

The chain markings around Mortalian's neck were now dim. Guilliman had given him a rare break, not because Guilliman was kind-hearted, but because Mortalian had exceeded expectations.

To their surprise, the chaos of fate here was extremely weak... so weak that it almost made Mortarion scoff.

The sun has risen.

【Motalian】closed his eyes, feeling the sunlight bathe him, and in that peaceful, shimmering cornfield, jealousy began to burn like a raging fire.

It scorches the heart and soul of the original body.

Yay, it's gone!

Chapter 791 Jiang is still as cunning as ever

【…】

Amidst the misty haze, Mortarian's giant scythe slowed for a moment, but then the scythe still slammed down heavily.

Fragments of living metal flew under the scythe, and yet another space necromancer who loved to nag at the Primarch was finally silenced.

At his feet, the raging flames finally died down; Mortarion did not like burners.

The star god was too noisy, and the Primarch, with his sensitive hearing, felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Fernus will replace you in three minutes, old Mo."

The space around Mortalian vibrated, and Hades' voice rang out, paused for a moment, and then sounded again with a puzzled tone.

"Old Mo? What's wrong?"

No, no. It's nothing, I can continue fighting, I don't need Phenus...

Mortarian sensed something was amiss; the strange feeling seemed to originate from Barbalus, but the eerie sensation vanished in an instant, before Mortarian could grasp anything.

If he were willing to put down his scythe now and do some calculations, the Primarch might be able to figure something out.

But now, to prove he could still fight, Mortarian still wielded his scythe, which gleamed like a crescent moon, its silver light flashing as it passed by.

“You might need to rest for a while. This line of work is too deep. Killieman wants to talk to you again about the next steps. He has already spoken with Saint Gilles.”

【. 】

What did Saint Gilles say?

"..."

Hades fell silent, a rare occurrence, while Saint Gilles maintained a respectful attitude towards all other viewpoints, as did Guilliman.

However, the archangel unusually became agitated and "scolded" Guilliman's "support for Horus" hypothesis for a while.

In the end, Saint Gilles concluded that this was impossible.

But there are also some possibilities.