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

Page 763

Perhaps, in the face of the Necromancers of space, the human empire's greatest source of pride is its sheer population.

Now, it's time to recruit soldiers.

Thinking of this, Angron had to mourn for a moment those whose peaceful lives had been disrupted, but the truth was that the Empire needed them to stand up and take up arms, or the entire Empire would perish.

Saint Gilles sighed, feeling the veins throbbing in his forehead. Angron was right, do your best and leave the rest to fate. He should do that, otherwise the Lord of Red Sand would provoke him with Horus again.

You could easily change the subject—

The last syllable was stuck in the archangel's mouth, his blood-red pupils staring incredulously ahead. Saint Gilles was stunned.

【Um? 】

Angron casually followed Saint Gilles's gaze, and then—he saw—he saw—

Horus Lupecal is giving them an apologetic smile.

[Killiman's vacation—what?!]

Angron was dumbfounded.

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

The Silent Eye

Fugen is now calm.

Fugen really wanted to sigh.

Fugen doesn't want to do anything right now.

The Primarch sat calmly in the alien chair, maintaining the decorum necessary for himself and for representing humanity, though the room was far too dark for a reception area.

Only a faint, ever-burning light illuminated the Primarch's thin, dull profile.

He should have thought of it earlier.

After being a guest at the Underworld Clan, Fugen once again came to the Space Necromancer's reception room, but he had nothing to say about it.

The only question is whether he could pick up the bones that were just swept up by the gale and thrown into the sky in front of him and make a grave for them.

Compared to Fuggen, whose heart and face were ashen, Danteok, sitting next to the Primarch, was furious. His gaze, hidden beneath his helmet, was fixed on Abaddon, who was carefully settling himself into a chair on the side of the meeting room.

"A-Barton".

Danteok spoke slowly and deliberately, staring intently at Abaddon as if he wanted nothing more than to kill the man right now.

"What have you done now?"

Abaddon raised his chin high, trying to make himself appear larger—even though Fugen had no intention of paying attention to Abaddon, the mere presence of a Primarch was already quite intimidating.

When confronted with Danteok's questioning, Abaddon remained indifferent, seemingly glancing at his tongue as if it were covered by some slug that terrified him.

Danteok wondered if, if he were to leap up now and punch Abaddon in the nose, Abaddon would immediately call upon the Necromancers to maintain order.

"I act only according to the expectations of the great chaos."

Abaddon spoke sparingly, looking at Danteok with clear-headed rationality, at the bloodline of the deceased Primarch.

"They wish for your destruction, for the slaying of Hades, nothing more."

There's no need to destroy the Emperor anymore. With power transferred elsewhere, the Lords of Man are declining. In short, the individual strength of the returning Primarchs is no match for the Emperor of yesteryear, but if their combined power were…

That would definitely surpass the emperor of that time.

Given time, these Primarchs will undoubtedly grow into beings no less powerful than the Emperors.

But now... it's still slightly inferior.

There is only one real threat—Pluto.

To deal with Hades, this monster a mixture of star god and dark realm, there is no one more suitable than the Necromancer. However, Abaddon doesn't know how the Chaos will decide if the Necromancer wins. The Necromancer is no pushover either.

"The Dog of Chaos".

Danteok roared, hot breath escaping from between his teeth.

“Petulab’s sons, there is no room for your barking here.”

Abaddon said, and then he knew he had stepped on Danteok's sore spot. Without any hesitation, the Warsmith charged at him recklessly.

As expected, Abaddon was prepared. He stood up abruptly, ready for battle.

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

[Unnamed Church of the Underworld]

【dusk】

Bishop He-32 of the Underworld Church was nervously taking stock of supplies when the Nirvana Terminal issued a call to assemble. A great battle was about to begin. The Underworld Church, having heard the provocation from the space necromancers, was going all out to fight the space necromancers to the death.

Most people have already taken boats to assemble in advance, while He-32, as the bishop of this small church, is unfortunately left to count supplies at the rear.

You know, that's how the Underworld Cult works. The higher your position, the more official documents you have to review.

crunch--

The tightly closed church door was gently pushed open a crack, and the bishop, who had his back to the door, suddenly paused, turning around.

"Sorry, the church is closed during the war preparation period."

But after seeing the visitor clearly, He-32 was stunned.

The entire Hades Church was dimly lit, except for a ray of fiery sunset light that streamed through the open door and fell directly on the feet of the Hades statue.

The giant stood silently.

【Feel sorry,】

The visitor spoke calmly, without a trace of shame in his words.

The bishop was somewhat dazed. Why was that person so tall? Taller than any Eugen he had ever seen. Was he even an ordinary person?

He-32 tensed up, and his left foot pressed back imperceptibly. Yes, the alarm button had been placed on the heel of his left shoe by the bishop.

I just wanted to take a look; I meant no harm.

"Motalian" said calmly, raising his head thoughtfully to see the rough, towering statue of Hades, whose face was obscured by a hood... but the aura...

Why does it feel both familiar and strange?

[Motalian] subconsciously reached out and touched the dark tear stains on his cheek. This was the feeling... this feeling that made him feel powerless and futile.

It was as if one were kneeling in the middle of a flowing river, desperately trying to stop the water from flowing any further.

He looked around, then quietly sat down on the bench. [Motalian] calmly stared at the bishop, whose alarm would never be raised; the bishop was now a dead man.

Bishop, would you be willing to guide a sinful soul to the underworld?

[Motalian] asked softly, his eyes so bright, like the ever-burning flames of hell.

"...The cult of the underworld is too sinful to accept, but Hades is merciful—as long as you are unwilling to cast your soul into chaos, then no matter how ugly your soul is, He is willing to accept you into the River Styx."

He-32 tried his best to keep his voice steady, but the vibrato in the bishop's voice still echoed in the church.

[Motalian] just stared at him, his eyes unblinking.

【yes,】

Then, the chief rebel spoke dryly,

So that's how it is. It really does resemble him.

【…】

【but……】

[Motalian] no longer looked at the bishop. He thoughtfully raised his head and looked at the tall and solemn statue. The statue neither looked at him nor spoke; it was merely a statue—he had become the core of the entire empire.

It's truly moving.

Why did such a great person, capable of becoming the core of the entire human empire and shouldering the fate of all humanity, die in Barbarossa under his gaze?

Did they do something wrong? Or is this line of fate destined to be cursed and punished?

They created hell with their own hands.

【but,】

Mortarian stared at the sculpture, trying to make out the face in the hood and shadows, but to his dismay, the sculpture did not depict Hades' face at all.

It's too late.

【Motalian】sat quietly in the church, as the night bells rang, slipping through a small crack in the door into the dimly lit church. The visitor sat there, simply sitting there, as if he had nothing else to do for the rest of his life.

The bishop who was receiving the distinguished guest had already fallen asleep and would never open his eyes again.

[Motalian] was simply sitting.

Yay, it's gone!

Chapter 784 The Last Rest Before the Battle

Killieman looked at the documents in front of him and sighed.

He covered his forehead, looked dejected, and then sighed.

Finally, Guilliman sighed again.

He no longer wanted to work. The emperor simply put down his pen, calmly raised his head, and his gaze seemed to pierce through layers of defenses and doors.

Come in, my...

Guilliman emphasized the last word.

【brother.】

The door creaked open, and Killieman stared at the visitor speechlessly, while the visitor forced an awkward smile.

[Killiman, long time no see.]

Horus, dressed in casual clothes, said that he instinctively wanted to give Guilliman a hug, even though his memory of Guilliman was still that of the ambitious Guilliman from ten thousand years ago.

But the Primarch's actions were interrupted by the massive desk between them and the documents piled on it—a pitifully thick barrier had already separated them.

Finally, it was Guilliman who broke the awkward silence. Guilliman stood up heavily, rubbed the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and took a few steps to meet Horus.

Horus was given a brief, weary embrace, full of the scent of cattle and horses.

Guilliman immediately released his arm and looked at Horus.

I had a feeling you'd come back... Neos's work always went wrong, but I was too busy to review it personally.

Horus's lips twitched for a moment. Upon his return, he felt completely unable to keep up with the conversation between his brothers.

It wasn't just the emperor's abdication; there were other, more complex things. Saint Gilles became so weary and unfamiliar, while Conrad sank into a frenzied attempt to exonerate himself, and Mortarian became... more capricious?

Okay, but the biggest problem is still the abdication of the emperor.

The emperor has abdicated.

The new emperor was Robert Guilliman standing right in front of him.

It's Robert Killman!

The ambitious Guilliman... Horus recalled Guilliman during the Great Crusade, and the Guilliman he had heard in the Chaos about establishing the Second Empire. Everything was traceable. From his ambition to becoming the king of the human empire, Guilliman's every step was so solid.

If it were Horus in the past, he might have directly mocked Guilliman, or worse, he might have directly attacked Robert.

but now……

The Wolf God blinked. He felt that so much had changed, and he felt a guilty guilt for his past actions. He had done too many wrong things. Even if it wasn't Guilliman, this position wouldn't be his, it wouldn't be Horus Lupecal.

Perhaps it should be Saint Gilles – but the archangel has been deeply hurt by this position, and perhaps only Guilliman, only Robert, is truly capable of this role.

The greatest blessing was that his father was willing to bring him back.

Horus felt a little pale, a little sad, a little powerless, but faced with the cruel reality, he could only smile.

I thought I would fly into a rage when I saw you.

Horus said earnestly, looking at the gleaming crown in Guilliman's golden hair, which Guilliman wore today in a scarlet, castle-like style.

But now I feel gratified; you are the best candidate to lead the empire to glory—the Emperor.

Before the words were even finished, Horus knelt down and bowed. Guilliman tried to stop Horus from bowing, but they both knew it was just a formality. After declining a couple of times, Guilliman accepted Horus's bow.