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

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“There is only one chance, and we have both done our best—Showa, look, countless Water Clan, Air Clan, and Earth Clan are willing to take up arms. Under your command, our army has immediately increased by more than 45%.”

"No,"

Foresight shook his head.

"Among them are troops reinforced from the heart of the Tau Empire... Moreover, these newly joined Tau are not very strong in combat; they have never even undergone the Trial of Fire."

Looking into the distance, even in the Vision Enclave, only those who have passed the trials can pick up guns, instead of simply distributing them to civilians.

"I'm... sending them to their deaths."

"Foresight" was a statement that drained all its strength, leaving the usually imposing commander listless. Shadow, however, shook his head and stood beside Foresight.

"You're not wrong,"

Yingyang said,

“We are not wrong. If we don’t do this, more civilians will be sacrificed. Most people in the empire are unaware of how serious the situation is. If they knew the truth, they would choose to understand you.”

The common people couldn't accept all of this at once. They couldn't just tell them that the human empire, which had suffered two major defeats before, had suddenly deployed an unimaginable army whose ships had destroyed the entire fleet of the Tau Empire in Damocles Bay as soon as they appeared, and that the Tau Empire hadn't won a single victory in the subsequent planetary war.

If the common people suddenly learned of this, they would probably faint on the spot. Not all clans have the same underlying nature as the Fire Clan, capable of accepting war and cruelty.

"You should be more optimistic and have foresight."

Yingyang changed the subject.

"The main force is about to be deployed. We are just waiting for the human empire's army to arrive on this planet. At that time, we will shut down the defense system on the west side of the planet, pretend to let them in, and then we can annihilate them."

Vision nodded. This deployment would involve all the forces on the northwest flanks of the empire, as well as 80 percent of the army in the core region of Tau, plus the militia forces mobilized by Vision. This was the greatest mobilization in the history of the Tau Empire.

However, in order not to alert the enemy, all this foresight was carried out in secret as much as possible. The illusion it gave the enemy was that their main force was retreating, retreating through this central world to a more central region of the Tau Empire.

With roughly three weeks remaining before the enemy's arrival, the Visionary Society will deliver its final speech on the planet, followed by the forced evacuation of civilians who refuse to join the army.

Foresight has made up its mind not to retreat any further.

Now, behind it, the Tau Empire's opponents have reached a whole new number, and if it is defeated and returns, it will only face a righteously indignant trial.

But foresight is not the reason why they are unwilling to evacuate.

It no longer wanted to retreat; it would fight to the death alongside its comrades. It could not allow itself to live a life of ignominy in the distant reaches of the Tau Empire.

It wants to fight.

Winning means the rebirth of the entire Titanium Empire; losing means death and utter ruin.

Shadow Sun was pleased to see that Vision seemed to have regained its spirits. Just as the commander was about to continue speaking, he was suddenly interrupted by the alarm from the machine bees.

Upon seeing the report from the machine bee, Yingyang's expression suddenly changed to one of shock, and she almost screamed.

"Enemy attack!"

It cried out, its pupils trembling as it stared at the transmitted image—where blood and severed limbs stained the earth, and unseeing, lifeless eyes stared in terror at the camera.

"Terrorist attack!"

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

Run, run, my cute little blue guy~

The shadow giant called softly, like a skilled hunter toying with his prey. The shadows cast by him, like the night sky, slanted out from his feet, darkening the bodily fluids flowing from the titanium.

"No, no, don't kill me!"

Tu was backing away in terror, but its legs wouldn't obey it. It fell to the ground and crawled out of the street on its hands and feet.

Its clothes were thus stained with the bodily fluids of the Fire Clan warriors, and fragments of internal organs and bones lay beside it, the stench almost causing it to faint.

[Great suggestion!]

"The dirty shadow said, as he seemed to crawl over. On one arm was a Fire Clan member making a hoarse sound. Conrad had just gouged out its eyes and stuffed them into the sniffing slit on the Fire Clan member's forehead."

In addition, he also tore off its limbs and then tied them to its torso in a peculiar way.

The Fire Clan member had not yet bled to death, because Conrad had thoughtfully used the skin of his comrade to cover the wound, though it looked somewhat comical because one had a light blue complexion and the other a grayish-blue complexion.

Conrad quickly crawled to the front of the Tu clan. At this moment, the hardworking Tu clan had already crawled to the street corner. It cried out for help, but when it turned its head, it saw that almost all the Titans coming and going on the street were standing still due to excessive fear, staring at it with wide eyes.

At the intersection of the alley and the main road, darkness spilled out from the alley in an extremely bizarre and physics-defying way. A Tu clan leader, almost covered in blood, sat down on the ground in a sorry state, and in front of the Tu clan, a pair of grotesque fangs gleamed brightly in the darkness.

Oh, you made it!

Conrad said with a smile,

【Then please watch together.】

The towering Primarch emerged from the darkness, and almost simultaneously, the patrolling Mosquitoes and Fire Clan rushed over, ion streams shooting towards the standing Conrad from all directions, accompanied by the screaming Tau people scattering in all directions.

Conrad did not flinch; he stood before the terrified Tu clan and bowed gracefully.

As if on command, the next moment! From the shadows of the entire street emerged terrifying genetically modified monsters of the human race. Small giants clad in bloody armor rushed out and almost instantly dismantled the entire street's defenses.

The little brat, carrying a long sword, stood at the entrance to the street, blocking the panicked Titans.

Now, whoever moves...

Conrad spoke softly, but his voice carried so clearly to every titanium ear that it sounded like the words of a demon from hell.

I'll just peel off all its skin first.

The Primarch smacked his lips, somewhat disappointed to find that the little guys immediately froze. Perhaps it was because there were no Fire Clan members here; the other clans were more inclined to avoid battle or submit.

Okay, okay.

The Primarch said that he casually threw the groaning Fire Clan member in his hand to the ground. The Fire Clan member splattered on the ground like a lump of flesh, bursting open. The whole scene was extremely comical.

Now remember what I said.

Conrad said softly,

You have three weeks to surrender. If you do not surrender within those three weeks, I will kill one million civilians every day—of course, I guarantee that most of these civilians will die in extreme, extreme agony, because this is the price you pay for refusing to surrender.

He said that the claws penetrated the body of the Tu clan member, who let out a horrifying scream, and then Conrad easily used his long fingernails to pick out one of its organs.

The good news is, if you can stay still, I'll let you off the hook today.

Conrad held his finger, still sticky with viscous organs, towards the mouth of the Tu clan member.

You have forty seconds to eat it. If you don't finish it, I'll use my fingernail to probe into the crease of your forehead and stir it.

Conrad said the good news was that unconscious vomiting could be heard from among the terrified, motionless, and nearly unconscious titanium creatures—now he was in for some fun.

Yay, it's gone!

Chapter 761 Conrad's Special Skill

(Warning: This content contains explicit sexual content and sadomasochistic elements. Please choose whether or not to view it.)

You know how to please yourself.

Lord of the Night, Son of Sin, Madman of Fate, VVVVIP User of Comoros Pleasure Park, A Madman Once Shamed Under the Emperor's Command—

Conrad Coates.

He loved all of this so much, his sharp claws piercing the layers of skin and flesh, smelling the bloody stench at the tip of his nose. Back in Nostrama, he had gladly accepted this unusual hobby.

Initially, he would convince himself to accept this madness and cruelty by claiming it was for justice.

And now—he's doing this just for pleasure!

Since this is your nature, why try to escape it? Even though there was a risk of falling into the abyss, Conrad was certain that the leash around his neck at that time was so strong—

If he were to get drugged in the Comoros and be dragged away by Slaanesh, the stingy and miserly Emperor Macardo would forcibly pull him back by his leash.

And after Slaanesh was killed by Hades and Death together—he was even more determined to sing the praises of sin! He let himself sink into that sweet, bloody, and crimson world, otherwise Slaanesh would have died in vain!

Like Mortarion, the Primarchs ten thousand years later have all learned to let go of some things, whether it's letting go of themselves or letting go of others.

Conrad then let himself off the hook.

If the Primarch had learned a proverb from the mysterious East of ancient Terra, he would understand his current state—"doing as he pleases without overstepping the bounds."

What kind of trouble could a poor Primarch under Imperial surveillance possibly cause?

Conrad smacked his lips. Influenced by Conrad, the Lord of the Night was already skilled at torturing prisoners, not to mention that Conrad had later gone to Comoros to hone his skills.

With the destruction of the Dark Eldar, perhaps no one in this world understands the art of torture better than Conrad Coz.

The little brat's anxious voice rang out in the communication channel. The Tau Clan's defensive forces were on their way, and the Primarch had only one minute left.

The Legion doesn't intend to engage in frequent direct conflicts with the Tau. They're not those dumbfounded Death Guards. Countless bats dart through the streets and alleys, and under the blessing of night, the dimly lit alleys are their domain.

One step, another step.

Conrad calmly stepped on the groaning blue-skinned Tau people. They were not dead yet; on the contrary, they were all alive and visibly not going to die anytime soon.

But their condition is not quite right.

These Tau, who are usually described as "one," have now become "a sheet." The Primarch and his offspring used some kind of "numerical numerology" to capture one Tau after another, prying their soft, fragile flesh from their hard battle shells, all to the tune of Conrad's song.

Then sew them all together, one by one.

These Tau people were crammed together in the alley, their flesh forming a living carpet beneath Conrad's feet. Their expressions were terrified, and the sensation under their feet made Conrad feel as if he were stepping on some kind of half-fermented dough, each step accompanied by the cracking sound of bones breaking, and the muffled groans of pain from the Tau people—

The Midnight Lord sewed all the mouths of the Tau people shut so that they could continue working while listening to Conrad's songs instead of just hearing the Tau people's screams.

After all, compared to the Primarch's song, these normally pleasant screams paled in comparison.

On the towering pile of living Titans, Conrad hummed casually. The Lord of the Night sat atop the Titans, occasionally swinging his legs. He held a Titan with a terrified expression, patiently dehydrating and skinning it while it was still alive, then sewing it together with its companions to create a work of art.

The Primarch occasionally glanced at his offspring, at his feet, in the shadow of the Night Lord, where the Midnight Lords were working diligently. Due to the need for high mobility, the Legion did not bring any servants, which meant they had to do the fine work themselves.

Once you've seen Mortarion in person, you'll know that death is not the end.

Therefore, Conrad knew that the pain and torment of living were the true hand that destroyed the soul.

No one wants to embarrass themselves in front of the Primarch, but sewing a living carpet and wall is indeed a skilled job. A qualified Night Lord must first administer a life-sustaining drug to the Tau to ensure that it can survive the following steps.

After injecting the drug, they would first roughly seal the vocal organs of these Titans. Unfortunately, these Titans have little hair, and for a meticulous Midnight Lord, this step would usually involve using the person's own hair as thread.

Then they would inflict comminuted fractures on the limbs of the Titans, turning these blue-skinned limbs into some kind of limp, spongy body—

Because the Primarch's command today is to create a low, carpet-like surface, it means they don't need to use the bones of their limbs to support and structure the space.

In general, the Midnight Lord will use his hands for this step, while the more skilled combat brothers will take out some crushing instruments, which are usually two pieces of thick metal sandwiched together, like a sandwich. The sandwich is not filled, and the enemy's limbs need to be stuffed into it.

It is also engraved with prayers from the state religion and the underworld religion. These recessed inscriptions allow any bleeding that may occur accidentally during work to drain away, and also serve to prevent chaos.

The next step is dehydration, or bloodletting. This step can be done quickly or slowly, but due to the requirements of the original material, today's carpet making uses quick dehydration.

Conrad made no demands regarding the use of the blood and fluids. The Primarch kindly allowed his offspring to freely spray the captives' bodily fluids, blood, and excrement—it didn't matter to Conrad, who was not concerned with hygiene.

Blood splattered on the ground. The ground was washed before the carpet was laid down. Outside the streets and alleys, fires burst from time to time. Another Fire Clan squad that came to provide support was captured.

Then these little red-shelled creatures would be dragged into dark alleys, shed, and sewn together, no matter how hard they gripped the ground with their three fingers—after all, even human five fingers would be dragged around by the Night Lords.

Then I saw the makeshift carpet workshop, which looked like hell, with blood and excrement splattering everywhere. Bone fragments and organs from some processes were mixed in with a knee-deep viscous liquid, emitting a foul stench.

Motalian might even be happy to see this, since that guy likes smelly things anyway.

Conrad thought nonchalantly that after dehydration and treatment of the limbs, the Midnight Lord would need to remove some unnecessary organs from these titaniums to make them flatter and more suitable for trampling.

Then inject them with several doses of medication.

Normally, the making of a live human carpet would involve carving the national religion's and the dark religion's sayings on the prisoners' bodies, and there would also be extra surprise torture elements, but because they were in a hurry recently, they had to skip this step.

Even so, the Midnight Lord would casually leave words on the faces of these Tau people with his scarlet tattoos, sometimes praising the Emperor, sometimes simply swearing—it didn't matter, the Emperor himself didn't say anything.

Then sew these wriggling, flat masses of flesh together, so that each titanium face is up, so that it looks up at the sky in terror, since this carpet will be trodden over by the Primarch.

Needle after needle, the living creatures huddled together, squeezing and writhing in fear, like maggots. The Midnight Lord didn't destroy most of their muscle fibers, precisely for the sake of the carpet's mobility.

The juices drained from the previous process seeped out from the tightly sewn blue meat strips, and as these titaniums moved, Conrad occasionally felt as if he were standing on a small, leaky boat.

The sun is about to rise~ Evil hides in the shadows of night~ Run, run, naughty children!

Conrad hummed softly as the midnight lords, who stood on both sides of the street bowing to him, slowly disappeared into the shadows.

The distant flames and explosions grew closer and louder.

One kick after another, this one landed squarely on a titanium face, causing its features to cave in and its eyeballs to shrink back.

If it were a human, Conrad would hear a more pleasant sound of a broken nose.

The Midnight Lord's skills weren't something he suddenly revealed after meeting Tau—but now that Guilliman, Vulcan, and Hades have returned, Conrad doesn't want to cause trouble for himself and his legions.