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

Page 765

However, the puffy skirts she often wears obstruct her view.

Tiss pursed her lips in boredom, but her thoughts drifted back to the scene of her first encounter with Hades—it was truly terrifying. She had only gone to rescue Barry, but unexpectedly ended up with a huge catch.

It was precisely because she brought back Hades that those fanatical Hades cult members gave her a better ship, along with tax-free trade rights in three star systems. With so much wealth, Tiss was rolling in it.

The Sky Lions Battle Group also received far more subsidies than Tiss, but for some reason, these unlucky guys inexplicably offended a lot of people later on, and in the end they lost everything.

Left with no other choice, the Sky Lion Legion sacrificed their elite warrior Barry—ostensibly as a bodyguard—to the traveling merchant Tys.

Barry seemed to actually believe it.

Thinking of this, Tess covered his mouth and chuckled a few times.

What's wrong with a rich person like her having a few Space Marine guards?

“You know… I just want to see him one more time… I haven’t properly thanked him yet.”

Tess said slickly, leaning down to wrap her arms around Barry's helmet, her hands groping haphazardly over the Space Marine's helmet.

“To fight for him and the Emperor, to die for him, is my way of thanking him—Miss Tiss, please remove your hand; it is obstructing my view.”

Barry looked through the eyepiece at the hand bones in the X-ray image, which would improve his vision when it was obstructed.

"I will."

Tiss tapped Barry's helmet again before reluctantly withdrawing his hand. Anyway, they were about to go to the battlefield, and as long as they were on the battlefield, they would always see miracles and gods.

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

"..."

"..."

The silent Krieg soldier's visor reflected the wild red hair. Krieg remained silent, but the small black heart patch under his right eye and the black donut necklace around his neck distinguished him from the other Kriegs.

"..."

Krieg remained silent, like a motionless statue, until—until the scruffy baby opposite him burst into tears.

"Why are you crying again? It's so annoying. Here, take this."

Lena irritably rubbed her hair, then roughly shoved the baby into Krieg's hands, who was standing still. Krieg was almost stunned, but his hands instinctively caught the baby.

"……What's this?"

"Are you blind? Child—you and me."

Lena whistled, then glanced at the Kriegs around her who were looking over curiously because of the child's crying, and burst out laughing.

If Krieg, who was standing in front of the Priest of the Underworld, were to remove his mask, Lena would see a man with a flushed face who looked utterly astonished and confused, as if he had encountered something he had never encountered before.

The Krieg army was established differently from other armies; the soldiers of the Death Legion were all cyborgs—because of their loyalty, the Empire allowed them to use this blasphemous technology.

They would grow up in the incubation chambers until they were old enough to pick up a gun, then undergo military training. Finally, these Kriegs were divided into two groups and fought a war on their home planet. The losing side was wiped out, while the winning side was packaged up and sent to the Empire.

This is why this army is so strange; it is so out of place compared to other armies.

"I...I don't understand."

"Kriegmed said, blinking his confused eyes. 'Smack!' The little guy's fist slammed directly into his goggles. This instinctive reaction made Krieg tense for a moment. His whole body tensed up. The flesh in his arms was so soft. He was more nervous than if he were carrying a suicide bomb on a mission."

Krieg felt himself starting to sweat.

"What? You only care about having fun and don't care about the kids?"

Finally free from carrying that silly little thing, Lena skillfully pulled out a cigarette from her coat pocket and started puffing away; she hadn't smoked in ages.

"I don't understand."

Krieg reiterated that after the war with Slaanesh, he and Rena parted ways for the last time in a field hospital in the Misty Starfield. On the last night before receiving the troop mobilization order, the tall, red-haired woman climbed onto Krieg's hospital bed from the foot of the bed with a wicked smile.

Incidentally, Kriegmead suffered fractures in both legs and a comminuted fracture of one hand at the time.

He almost drew his gun from his waist and shouted for an enemy attack.

The next day, Krieg awoke from his coma and saw only a patched-up gas mask by his bedside, with a heart-shaped patch of high-intensity negative psionic black stone staring at him.

Lena took a deep drag of her cigarette, and the smoke, mixed with black stone powder, slowly billowed out. Through the hazy smoke, the priest gave Krieg a meaningful look.

"So that means they don't acknowledge it."

Lena said, and with a cigarette in her mouth, she prepared to take the little guy, but Krieg subconsciously took a step back. The little thing with its golden and red mixed fur had stopped crying and was amused by his father's actions and started giggling.

Lena felt a chill run down her spine; she felt that Krieg's eyes around her were even brighter.

The troop transport ship sailed quietly as she single-handedly charged into Krieg's army, facing the blond young man head-on.

"What? You don't acknowledge the child but want to snatch it?"

Lena took a drag of her cigarette.

"Don't even think about it. I absolutely will not allow this clown to wear your Legion's ugly mask. He can be a priest of the underworld, or a death row inmate, but he cannot be a weirdo wearing an ugly mask."

"The gas mask works very well."

Mead instinctively retorted, but the baby's hand struck his mask again, tugging at it back and forth as if trying to remove it.

Mead removed his mask and obediently handed it to the little guy to chew on. The new battle added new scars to his cheeks, with a horizontal scar running across his nose.

This was when he was fighting a greenskin, and a greenskin twice his height slashed him with an axe. He was only ten centimeters away from having his head severed in two.

Lena smiled. It was still more pleasant to look at someone handsome. She admired the dull-witted blond-haired, blue-eyed man. Mead's blue-green eyes always reminded the cultist of the lake in her hometown—although that thing had later been turned into a thick soup by the Nurgle creatures.

After that, she never saw a blue-green color as clear as the lake in her hometown.

Until I saw this idiot.

“You…you said he is our child.”

Krieg said, his words slurred.

“Child... I didn’t go through the childhood stage. I wasn’t like this at the beginning.”

Lena scratched her head and then slapped her forehead.

"How could I forget—in short, Donut Boy, besides you guys and those mechanical monsters, all other natural people have to go through this process, knowing nothing and occasionally yelling and drooling like an idiot."

"..."

Mead was silent for a moment, listening to the sound of his mask being gnawed on by his baby teeth.

"It sounds like... he can't hold a gun, he can't fight like that."

Krieg said somberly, a statement that seemed to dampen the spirits of everyone around him.

He will grow up,

Lena chuckled and flicked her cigarette ash.

"Grow taller than you, I may not have much else, but I'll give you plenty of nutrient blocks. Then he'll be able to grab a gun and start shooting around on the battlefield, and then he'll be like a piece of trash, easily killed by some minor mistake like a sprained ankle."

"..."

Lena suddenly opened her eyes wide. She sensed something was wrong. She turned around and saw Mead shaking his head firmly at her.

“If he could grow up and be taller than me, then he wouldn’t have made such a sacrifice… He, he, he would be worth more than us, he wouldn’t be a coin.”

Among the Kriegs who had somehow gathered around them, one wearing a commander's coat suddenly spoke.

"His eyes are very bright; this is a sign of a sharpshooter."

Lena's cigarette twitched, and she realized that they were surrounded by layers upon layers of Kriegs, all of them, like a swarm of hamsters around her. How come even the damn commander and officers were sitting here watching the show?!

It's rest time now, and there's no need for training, so the Kriegs are all resting and recuperating.

Moreover, Krieg's military regulations did not include any emergency procedures for "a person bringing an infant with Krieg blood to the army".

Perhaps Lena is the first person to verify that "Krieg has the ability to reproduce naturally".

"He has very dexterous hands; he will become an outstanding engineer."

Another voice came from the pile of Krieg, and then, as if a powder keg had been stirred up, a series of voices emerged, all trying to determine the path ahead of the little guy who was gnawing on the Mead gas mask.

"Stop—stop!"

Rena got annoyed, and with a cigarette dangling from her lips, she yelled. The voices immediately stopped, and all the bright, questioning, and curious eyes peered at her through the thick goggles of her gas mask, at the woman who brought the blood of Krieg.

"He might not even be able to go to the battlefield!"

The priest roared, and immediately a chorus of sighs rose and fell around him.

"He, he, he..."

Mead's voice rang out weakly. Hearing his words, the annoyed woman glared at him fiercely, her hair disheveled, like an enraged lioness.

"I think he has very good teeth."

Krieg said to try to get his mask back, which already had white marks on it. Lena snorted and lit another cigarette.

"Let's think of a name for him. His surname is Butcher, which is the surname of a cult priest who saved me back then."

Lena took another deep drag of her cigarette. The bastard priest who had dragged her out of the swamp of filth had long since died in an exorcism.

"..."

Mead felt his brain stop working.

Choose a name...

His name was assigned by the system; his full name is 106-7323478-12-Mead.

Krieg looked again at the strange creature in his arms. Although it was so soft that a single bullet could blow it up, Krieg couldn't help but imagine the little guy growing up and charging into the enemy ranks, covered in golden light.

Seeing him looking at him, the little guy named Butcher was also staring at him with wide, expectant eyes—the little guy seemed curious about the scar that ran across Mead's entire cheek and the pitted, bullet-scarred marks on his face.

His eyes were also blue-green, exactly like Mead's—only in the cold glint of the bayonet would Mead catch a glimpse of the color of his own eyes, and his golden-red baby hair.

“K, K, K… Krieg.”

Mead said it instinctively, and Krieg Butcher chuckled, seemingly pleased with his name. He just stared at Mead, and Mead felt something appear somewhere in his body that used to be empty, and he never cared why it was empty.

Lena glanced at Mead, seemingly very unhappy with the stupid name, but seeing that the baby accepted it, the woman could only sip her cigarette and roll her eyes.

"Okay, Krieg the Butcher, this is it."

A commotion erupted! The Kriegs around them suddenly became noisy and seemed very excited. Mead instinctively turned around and saw his colleagues staring at him with great excitement.

Can I show them?

"Look at what?"

"……child."

"what ever."

So Mead crouched down and carefully handed his child to the nearest Krieg. The moment he touched the child, Krieg gasped softly and then hurriedly passed the child to someone else.

The Kriegs immediately tried to hold the little guy like they would hold a detonator, but they failed without a doubt and had to frantically change positions.

"then you……"

Mead glanced at Rena, who was puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"So, are you planning to take him with you to the battlefield?"

Lena exhaled a long puff of smoke.

“With,”

The woman said,

“Everyone I can entrust with has been conscripted to the battlefield. I’ve already asked the sage to build me a fully automated mechanical dog that can fit this little thing.”

Mead's eyelids twitched. He felt frustrated, instinctively believing that such a being shouldn't exist on the battlefield. He hadn't been this vulnerable when he first held a gun.

"Is there no other way?"

Lena gave him a sharp look.

“If we both die there, he might as well be buried with us, so he won’t be a fool in the future.”

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

Terra

"This was the last calculation,"

Hades said, “The mortality rate is projected to be over 93.9%, with an even higher mortality rate among non-Space Marines. Mortalian will prioritize the resurrection rate of Space Marines, so the initial casualty rate will be around 63.1%.”