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

Page 711

This will be their lifelong nightmare, second only to the mouth of Hades in terror.

Inside the long-distorted and winding restaurant, empty picture frames gaze upon the revelry of the people. Darkness seeps in everywhere, and the world is full of abysses. Only this small space is brightly lit, filled with laughter and joy.

The documents and papers that filled the long table had been removed and replaced with silver dessert tarts, and identical smiling cakes were smiling sweetly. On the other side, Magnus was shouting at Corax to get out of the way.

Vulcan commented on whether Conrad's masterpiece could be served, and the bat mocked him, insisting that people taste his groundbreaking work, but the Lord of Night could not overcome the broad obstruction of the Lord of Fire Dragons.

After some consideration, Killieman also chose to enter the kitchen, the Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds—

No, it should be the Emperor of the Empire who has taken some cheese out of the "refrigerator" and is preparing to let everyone taste the flavor of Macurag.

Saint Gilles was beside him, and the archangel took out a bottle of wine, the liquid thick and blood-like, and swirled it between the dark glass bottles.

In the end, the Primarchs failed to stop Mortalian from entering the kitchen.

As the archangel produced the blood wine, the Pale Lord sneered, then pulled out a special product of Barbarus—poisoned wine filtered through the limbs of insects.

Mortarian had already discussed it with Hades; everyone present today had to drink a full cup of Barbarus poison, or none of them would be allowed to leave.

Drinking the poisoned wine is the glory of the Pale Lord and them, and it is Mortarion's oath. By drinking this wine, the Pale Lord's last drop of blood will also be their last drop of blood.

On the other side, Neos sat down dejectedly, with Macardo and Orl Persson still taunting him relentlessly. Hades stood hunched over by the table, reaching for the smiling cake in the dessert tart.

“Now you can live a second spring, no, your Nth spring, Neos. I believe you will build Terra to be even more beautiful—at least more beautiful than Macragge.”

Macado said this while swirling his wine glass, but as he said it, the boy gave Hades, who was focused on stuffing a small dessert into his mouth, a sharp look.

This statement wasn't very friendly.

Killieman's voice came from the kitchen. Macado sneered, and the silver-haired boy raised his hand, sending three smiling cakes flying over, one for each of them.

Angron stood beside Hades, holding a half-eaten cake in his hand. The cross-section revealed that the cake was either strawberry-flavored or blood-flavored.

He was intently watching Hades devour his food. Angron looked somewhat puzzled, because Hades' expression didn't seem to change much, but he clearly remembered that each layer had at least a few unpalatable flavors.

That went beyond the sense of taste; some flavors should actually be classified as pain. Angron knew Hades wasn't sensitive to taste, but...

Hades, however, drank the cake like a cow slurping water, eating it voraciously.

How does it taste?

Angron said, glancing toward the Lord of Mankind. He was certain that Neos's tasted like insect legs, Macado's tasted like fermented corpse parts, and Or Persson's tasted more normal, like white rice.

"To fleece and exploit."

Hades mumbled incoherently, followed by an angry shout from the other side of the table.

"What's this?!"

As Makado yelled, he threw the cake down on the table with one hand. The boy cursed and coughed. The half-eaten cake rolled around on the table before finally falling down next to Makado's plate, smiling at him.

"Angron?!"

Makado roared, having been mocking the Lord of Humanity, never expecting that the Lord of Red Sand's dessert contained a hidden secret. Beside him, Neos was listlessly munching on the cake, as if chewing on something tasteless.

Angron smiled warmly at Macado.

[Special flavor.]

He says,

I didn't realize your tolerance level was so low. I'll be more careful next time, but—maybe you could try a piece of the Emperor's.

Macardo frowned, looked at the Emperor, and held out his hand. The Lord of Mankind, like a machine, handed Macardo the half-eaten Smile Cake, then mechanically slammed his head on the table, again and again.

Not many people paid him any attention.

"vomit--"

This was the next sound Macado made; he collapsed beside the dining table.

Macardo, who had channeled all his psionic energy into Guilliman, did not appear to possess the strength to resist Mortarion's curse.

Anglong withdrew his gaze, concealing his accomplishment, and took the plate of food handed to him by his brothers.

【What's wrong? 】

Magnus asked, but Angron just shrugged. He helped the Crimson King put the grilled fish on the table and handed Magnus a sandy-tasting one.

Yes, Angron likes to make harmless little jokes.

Magnus casually took the pastry, and trusting his brothers, the Crimson Lord stuffed it into his mouth without a second thought, after which his expression twitched violently.

[...a very peculiar flavor.]

Magnus spoke slowly, extending his hand to refuse Anglon's next pastry.

No, thank you—one is enough. Yes, the taste is alright.

What a pity.

Anglong said, then took a bite of the chocolate in his hand.

------------

Can I choose a different drink?

Guilliman spoke carefully, a thoughtful glint in his eyes, as he took his seat in the main seat, flanked by Mortalian and Saint Gilles.

【Can't.】

The Pale Lord answered calmly, holding his poisoned wine, from which wisps of white mist gushed. Meanwhile, the archangel's wine bottle emitted a strong, bloody stench.

You're a hero today; you should try both methods.

The archangel offered a gentle suggestion, but his hands deftly poured Guilliman a cup of blood wine. Mortarion grumbled in displeasure, but knowing there would be another chance, he turned and poured wine for Corax.

Raven's brows furrowed tightly. Before Mortalian could finish pouring, Conrad beside Corax shouted, "The Lord of the Night, raise your empty cup!"

I'll drink the red one!

Conrad shouted, choosing the less painful of the two tortures for himself, while Mortalian simply sneered. He was lenient with Guilliman because Guilliman had done a good job, but that didn't mean he was lenient with everyone.

Hades.

Mortarian said calmly. The next moment, Hades, who was frantically eating his pre-dinner dessert, suddenly slammed his hand on the table and stood up, causing the wine glass next to Hades to bounce.

【drink!】

Hades forced himself to swallow, simultaneously fulfilling his duty as a forceful threat, as darkness twisted and emerged from behind him.

【Give him all of it!!!】

[That despicable Mortarian!!!]

Conrad flinched, but no one could help him. He watched as Mortarian snatched his cup in a triumphant gesture, and then a hissing, bubbling liquid returned. Conrad wondered why the cup hadn't been completely corroded.

On the other side, Guilliman, holding a cup of blood-infused wine, coughed awkwardly. As if to ease the awkwardness, the Emperor of the Empire picked up his cup and took a sip.

Killieman suddenly covered his mouth and coughed violently, his pupils dilated, and bright red liquid spilled from the corner of his mouth. He stared at Saint Gilles in disbelief.

The archangel had already sat back down, elegantly swirling the red wine in his hand.

How does anger and desire taste?

Before Guilliman could speak, Mortarian interrupted,

It's far better to endure and suffer.

The Pale Lord retorted that, with Hades' assistance, all the Primarchs in this circle would be able to taste the flavor of Barbarus. Mortarion had already moved to Hades' side and calmly poured the largest cup.

Guilliman silently swallowed the blood wine. He looked at the two who were somewhat at odds. With Guilliman at the center, Mortarian sat at the far left of the long table, and Saint Gilles sat at the far right of the long table, seemingly forming a tripartite balance.

In the dim light, Hades, who had just sat down again, smiled and raised a cup to the Lord of Mankind.

But Guilliman knew who would actually take on most of the Imperial duties at that time.

No matter, the desk and official business will appear at his will. The true slave owner in human history has appeared. This is a manifestation of forced labor and represents supreme power.

I will try them all.

Killieman ended the dispute with a single sentence, and the atmosphere quieted down again. Killieman felt people's eyes on him.

This gave Guilliman a somewhat helpless and amusing feeling; when the Emperor bestowed the crown upon him, not many Primarchs paid him any attention.

After he truly dragged the Lord of Mankind into the abyss, he, who had been described as "boring" by many Primarchs, actually gained attention.

Killieman wasn't angry about it; he just found it somewhat amusing.

His brothers all had a kind of naive innocence. Perhaps only the Emperor or Hades truly didn't care about such things, no matter how war had tested them. Guilliman coughed again, swallowing the metallic taste that rose on his tongue.

He stood up, raised his wine glass high, and the light shone down, illuminating the king like a cluster of burning candles.

I thought I would talk a lot—about the empire, about the future, about…our father.

But when I saw most of us finally sitting together,

Killieman paused for a moment, his eyes gleaming, and the sea rippled.

I think I have nothing more to say; the darkness remains.

But we're back.

Cheers to humanity, to the empire!

----------

Neos is crying.

More precisely, the Emperor was sitting amidst a pile of Primarchs lying scattered on the ground, weeping.

Apart from him and Hades, no one survived. Most people were knocked out by Mortarian or Saint Gilles's drink, while Mortarian and Saint Gilles were unfortunately knocked out by Angron's secret dessert.

Never ask what Anglon put between those two cakes; it may remain a mystery.

In addition, the psionic energy forcibly fed to these Primarchs also made them dizzy and disoriented. After leaving the Dark Realm, the psionic energy that instantly backfired caught up with them, making them feel extremely dazed.

It's like expanding their original souls thousands of times and then making them try to put their souls back into their original bodies.

Amidst the chaos, Hades slowly rose, step by step, past Conrad lying face down, past Mortarion's twitching arm, and it was clear that the Pale Lord was struggling to control his body.

He walked to Neos's side. The Lord of Mankind was sitting on the ground, his long, jet-black hair hanging down, half-covering his face, and on his lap was Robert Guilliman sleeping peacefully.

"I hope you're not changing the contract."

Hades said, raising an eyebrow as he sat down next to the Lord of Man, who looked rather dejected.

"will not."

"He is very smart."

Nios's calm voice rang out as he looked down at Guilliman, tears welling in his eyes, perhaps for his lost freedom.

"To base the contract on the most fundamental and massive foundation of the empire—I underestimated Number Thirteen."

"After all, Makado had taught him a real lesson."

Hades glanced at Macado, whose cloak was wrapped up like a shroud.

"I thought it would be Mortalian or Saint Gilles."

There was no discernible joy or sorrow in Neos's tone.

"But in the end it was him. Now I understand why it was him—because the decision made by Number Thirteen was the most cruel. Death or the angel himself was still trying to escape the fate of bearing the weight of an entire empire."

Hades shook his head, then nodded.

Not all Primarchs are willing to become kings.

Having already been cheated once, Sanguis has a tendency to withdraw from the world, while Mortarion is the least willing to become an exploiter.

On the other hand... in terms of his attitude towards work, Guilliman may indeed be more resolute than all the other Primarchs.

"perhaps."

The emperor said calmly.

“I once fantasized that they had not left Terra’s fate, but unfortunately, that was not the thread I was holding onto.”

"You cultivate the original body?"

Hades coughed.

"Never mind..."

Hades immediately changed the subject.

"You seem to have recovered now? I didn't see any reaction from you while we were eating."