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

Page 764

Horus stood up and looked at Guilliman with a complicated expression.

Lupecal's previous ambitions had vanished. He chose to betray the Emperor when he needed him most. Horus no longer asked the Emperor for forgiveness, but the Lord of Man once again forgave him.

He knew he was unfortunate, but compared to his brothers, he was incredibly fortunate. The only thing he could be grateful for was that Nyos would never forget Horus, and Horus asked for nothing more.

Oh no.

Horus suddenly realized that there was still one thing he couldn't let go of, and that was Saint Gilles—how he wished the archangel would shine again, instead of being so sorrowful and listless as he was now.

But in any case, this is something Horus Lupecal needs to work on himself; Guilliman doesn't need to worry about it.

"Then I shall take my leave."

Guilliman nodded, but his eyes gleamed as he looked at Horus.

At this critical moment for the nation, Guilliman thought he would assign Horus a job directly after assessing his work efficiency, but it turned out that his heart was far more benevolent than he had imagined.

"Then...you should spend more time with the Lord of Humanity and Saint Gilles, and I won't assign you any work for now."

Guilliman nodded, indicating that Horus's insincere words of comfort could end now; he had met with his newly returned brother, and it was time to get back to work.

Primarchs are not all familiar with each other. Apart from Angron, who can talk to anyone, and relationships like Guilliman and Corax, and Mortalian and Conrad, the other Primarchs still maintain a relatively large social distance from each other.

It's rare to find someone as familiar as Hades as someone who completely disregards social status.

Of course, this also owes much to Hades' own efforts; being unpretentious and not concerned with reputation is extremely difficult for someone of his status.

Horus, who was just about to turn and leave, was taken aback upon hearing this.

"I will," he said instinctively, "but Saint Gilles doesn't want to see me..."

Killieman sighed.

Give him some time.

"Killiman said wearily,"

[But not now, Horus. The best place for Sanguis right now is on the battlefield—I know there are many misunderstandings and old stories between you, but now is not the time for reminiscing. The army of the Necromancers is gathering.]

Horus wanted to explain again, but looking at the tired-looking Guilliman, he swallowed back the words he wanted to say.

[Killiman, I've heard some rumors about this match... but you're not flustered because you're confident, right?]

【No,】

Killieman shook his head, then laughed easily.

I have absolutely no confidence. I've spoken with the space necromancer Tarachin, and I believe this will be the closest we ever come to annihilation.

Then why?!

Because I've been through far too many similar things.

Guilliman smiled bitterly again. He looked at Horus, who possessed a happiness that had not been worn away by the vicissitudes of time.

It is also a kind of beauty protected by the emperor.

The Lord of Mankind would not treat his Thirteenth so well, but it doesn't matter; Robert Guilliman's father is King Connor of Macgrass.

Guilliman and the Primarchs who have now returned to the Empire have long since passed the age of hoping for the Emperor's attention—

One person's praise and love are irrelevant; the boundless gold on the map is the real battlefield where one must make achievements.

Every time,

Killieman raised his voice slightly.

[Every time, we've come close to national annihilation, from the tearing apart of the empire, the Greenskin Wars, to the fall of Saint Gilles… I've experienced too many similar things. I'm not panicking now, my brothers, because I've become numb.]

The things he spoke made Horus's eyes sharpen, but more so his sympathy for Guilliman—Horus was not the most ruthless of the Primarchs; on the contrary, being close to mortal emotions would allow him to better understand these things.

This look gave Killieman some comfort, because most of the others were just as miserable as he was, or thought he deserved it.

But Guilliman processed this emotion well. As he said, work numbs you, and perhaps being a king would do the same, but none of them wore you down as much as his work did.

【and,】

Killieman smiled.

Hades is also my friend, my most capable office comrade, and the Empire's most efficient anti-chaos computer. I have no reason to abandon my dearest friend for the sake of an alien race.

Hades...

Horus realized that he had not seen Hades by the time he woke up, and he didn't really want to visit Hades. Besides, Mortarion's scythe might just smash Horus's head as he approached Hades.

I will choose a suitable time to visit Hades.

Horus cautiously said,

I know, once the war is over.

But... will the war really end?

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

Terra

"Uh,"

Hades paused briefly, then looked ahead.

“Weasel, I think you’re being a bit extreme.”

"is it?"

"Nios said smugly as he strolled among the solemn-faced Primarchs. At the Emperor's feet, the Primarchs' psionic energy emanated, as if guided by the faint golden light surrounding the Emperor.

Among them were Mortalian, Saint Gilles, Corax, Conrad, Vulcan, and Angron. Hades squinted; he couldn't be sure if the Primarchs had retained their physical forms, because in Hades' eyes, the Primarchs' figures were becoming increasingly blurry.

"I'm just loosening their muscles."

The emperor said in a friendly manner,

"So that they can better enter the subspace in the war that follows."

"But does this mean they are more easily expelled from the physical world?"

“That’s how it is in theory—otherwise, why didn’t I do it this way before? But as long as they have enough believers around them, they will be firmly rooted in the physical world and will feed back the power of faith to the believers.”

"And, at worst,"

The emperor's gaze drifted downwards, and Hades felt as if he were staring at his hand? Hades withdrew his hand.

"And you, our Hades—would you be willing to offer your little finger as a stable physical anchor for the Primarchs?"

……

Hades' eye twitched. So this old man was still holding onto a grudge from ten thousand years ago.

"I can give the Black Stone an ever-charged power."

"Is that so? What a pity."

Neos slowly wandered around Mortalian's ball of psionic energy.

"I think the Primarchs would be more interested in collecting your little finger."

Sure enough, the little finger joint wasn't necessary; Hades was sweating like a soybean, simply because Neos wanted to avenge his previous defeat.

"No, they don't want to."

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

"It's over, it's over, it's really over this time."

The sound of hurried footsteps rang out crisply on the museum floor, and Euricane tried to roll his eyes in a very human-like way, causing the green light in his eyes to flash.

"You should have known this day would come."

Orikan said, his gaze returning to the threads beside him that symbolized time, which he needed to constantly watch over fate to ensure that no one dared to tamper with it under his nose.

"Yes—but I always managed to escape! But this time is different!"

"What is the difference?"

“I can simply abandon most of my wealth and leave, but the human empire cannot escape; the two races have already declared war on each other.”

Tarasin's metal bones creaked and rattled, as if he were growing anxious. In the distance, the sounds of the Underworld Beetles clearing out the assassins could be heard.

Orikan raised its eyes, which had been fixed on destiny, and looked at Talazin, the museum curator now in a body meticulously prepared by Hades. This cosmic undead overlord was far larger than any other cosmic undead of its rank; Talazin was almost larger than the Silent King.

There's no way around it; the human empire's aesthetic is simply that bigger is better.

"you--"

Orikan's voice trailed off as he looked at the extremely imposing Tarasin, whose headdress was spread out like a cobra, reflecting the shimmering silver-white and bright green enamel. A scarlet cloak made of nanobots extended beneath two shoulder pads that resembled raised beast heads, swaying with Tarasin's movements.

However, Tarasin's movements and posture were extremely sleazy, making him seem more like a thief than a ruler.

"You hesitated?"

"no!"

Tarasin almost jumped up. It no longer had the confidence and composure it had when it fooled the old Necromancer General. Instead, it looked like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on.

"Just—just—"

Tarasin's hands trembled.

"It's still a bit uncertain. If the entire Fearful Death Clan mobilizes, the chances of victory are too slim. I don't know if I've harmed Hades and the others."

Humanity was like a newborn calf; they had never faced the wrath of the Silent King Szalak, and naturally did not know how terrifying it was.

Euricane chuckled.

"If it weren't for you, that damned Hades would have been buried in Kadia long ago—Tarasin, you're too cowardly."

The timid and hesitant Talathin, however, pleased Orikan. Unlike Talathin, Orikan considered himself completely transcendent of the Fearless/Space Necromancers, believing that both the Silent King and the Storm King were beings inferior to the Star Lords.

It was too lazy to fight for power. For Euricane, ruling over mindless slaves brought no sense of accomplishment, far less than the glance it cast at the stars.

Therefore, when Tarasin showed some fear, Orikan felt satisfied, which proved that he was strong.

It was therefore in a good mood to comfort Tarasin.

"Besides, it's not all the space undead—how do you know the Storm King would agree to the Silent King's orders?"

"but--"

Euricen raised his hand, making a shushing gesture.

“Have you forgotten that I am the Fate Advisor under the Storm King? Give me a clone of yourself, Talasi, let me handle this—I will make sure the Storm King is present, but its first target will be the Silent King.”

"?! I didn't think you were so kind as to help humans."

"I am simply rectifying fate."

Okay, that's all.

I'm pondering how to write a long war novel again. This time, the war will start directly from the beginning and continue until the end, and if the plot goes smoothly, there won't be any pauses in between—but I've always struggled with war stories, especially those involving a lot of technology and setting. Sigh, I'm worried.

Chapter 785 Hades or Matchmaker?

Even the grandest hourglass of destiny begins its countdown from a single grain of sand.

—Orikan the Star Lord

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

Rally! Rally! Rally!

Countless ships, like stars in the sky, are sailing, all the bullets are running at full power, and the mechanical sages who maintain them have to play hymns and bells praising Hades day and night in order to barely keep the empire's countless ships afloat.

Imperial Navy, Space Marines, Mechanicus, State Religion, wandering merchants, space pirates pacified by Huron, wandering souls of Barbarossa, countless militiamen determined to sacrifice themselves...

The night sky illuminated by the engines of countless ships shone far brighter than the stars, with the invincible Queen of Glory among them, and merchant ships on the verge of obsolescence—but it didn't matter, as long as you obeyed the orders of the sector naval commanders, the Empire would send you to the battlefield.

The "Mingyou" was also following behind the Sky Lion Battle Group's fleet, its elaborate and gorgeous black skirt trailing bright blue flames.

"Do you think... we'll be able to see Hades again this time?"

Captain Tess of the Dark Blessing listlessly fiddled with her long, curly hair, the shiny brown strands trembling at her fingertips. The sentence seemed meaningless; the captain simply crossed her legs and casually tapped the bright yellow, goofy head beneath her arm.

"We should not be rude to him."

Barry's deep voice came from his helmet. The Space Marine raised his hand and pushed aside the black lace dress that was obscuring his vision. The female captain was not heavy, so even though she was sitting on his left shoulder, Barry didn't feel anything.