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

Page 697

"But I think our feud is over."

Neos spread his hands, looking rather innocently at Macardo and Olpeson, who seemed to be facing a formidable enemy.

"Guilt and forgiveness, I just want you to come back and see the future we once discussed."

Or coughed.

"To be honest, the future is actually pretty bad,"

The ancients commented in this way, and it's not his fault, because Orl had truly experienced glory. When the prosperity faded, he could no longer appreciate the new life built on the ruins.

Just before the Emperor was about to genuinely express his grief, Orl abruptly changed the subject.

“But I know this is your achievement, which is quite good—I’m not praising you, I’m praising the people who did things for you.”

A smile returned to the face of the Lord of Humanity, and the silent Makado let out a cold laugh. The delayed magic circle was finally complete.

The conversation just now was all stalling for time. Neos knew they were stalling for time, but the Emperor didn't care.

Without a word of nonsense, Makado deftly and efficiently deployed the magic circle, and at the same time, Or immediately uttered a strange and absurd string of words.

It's a coded message.

Olpeson and Nyos—this involves an even older story, so ancient that most immortals were never even born, but that doesn't matter. What matters is the ending of the story—

All those who cooperated with the Emperor and other immortals met the same end: betrayal, downfall, and parting ways.

The Tower of Babel, which the Emperor and All had worked together to build, collapsed, leaving behind the Emperor to continue on his journey and All to live in anonymity.

Orl inherited that power from before, implying that language possesses power, a separate and uncontaminated power, at the cost of damage to the tongue, but which is entirely beneficial compared to the benefits it brings.

Orl stared intently at the Emperor, silently activating the spell. The presence of the Lord of Humanity suddenly became abrupt, as if some powerful force stood around him, preventing his departure.

At the same time, a dazzling burst of light erupted inside the restaurant!

A massive eight-pointed star array flickered and emerged from the floor. The Lord of Humanity glanced almost imperceptibly at the complex array and, unsurprisingly, spotted some clues in the fifth point.

"You haven't given up yet?"

"No, I gave up—but it's the mark it left on me."

Makado said, "Swing your bat decisively!"

Explode it!!!

A light capable of annihilating everyone exploded at that moment, like hundreds of small nuclear bombs detonating at the same point! The enormous sound made everything else quiet down, with only a faint hum.

The air pressure almost blew the two spellcasters away. Macardo held his staff horizontally to protect himself and Orl Persson. Blood and dark clots of blood kept spilling from Orl's mouth. He raised his hand to wipe the blood from his mouth.

Fifty-five seconds later, the light slowly dissipated. The tinnitus persisted. Makado squinted at the spot where he stood. To his surprise, the Lord of Humanity did not choose to dodge.

The man stood there quietly, without a single mark on his body.

At the same time, there was no trace of an explosion in the entire restaurant, as if it had just been a huge illusory sphere of light that exploded.

"Then it's my turn."

"run!!!"

Without hesitation, Makado roared and almost took off running. The cold light of psionic energy flashed around him and Or, who was running in the opposite direction. Makado activated psionic teleportation!

The Emperor did not chase after his close friends. On the contrary, he stood still. The Lord of Humanity raised an eyebrow and smiled. He was silent for a moment, seemingly considering which skill to use next.

This seemed to cause him more distress, so Neos casually found a chair and sat down. Finally, he decided—

"Detention".

The Lord of Mankind said that he was not tired recently, and that the return of Saint Gilles and Macado had brought some power.

Well, the main thing is that he's not mentally fed up with it.

A moment before, Guilliman stared wide-eyed at Macado, who was running toward him for his life. The mage, disregarding all decorum, was running at top speed, his robes billowing in the air.

Hey, wait a minute!

Killieman stretched out his hand and shouted.

But the next moment, something even more immense entered the scene, as if it had existed since the birth of the Earth. Guilliman watched helplessly as Macardo's position right under his nose vanished into thin air.

If Conrad’s shrill laughter mocking Macardo hadn’t still been ringing in his ears, Killieman would have thought it was all an illusion!

Neos poured himself a cup of black tea, and steam rose from the cup. Through the fragrant steam, Neos saw two corpses lying on the ground.

They seemed to be bound by some invisible rope, unable to move.

"Are you really playing?"

Macado's hoarse voice rang out. The old man was glaring at the smug Emperor through gritted teeth, but Macado was never one to give up easily. His psionic energy was regrouping, and he could break free in the chaos once the next challenger arrived.

"I want to see just how far you've all come."

"The Lord of Mankind said calmly. He took a sip of tea and saw Guilliman and Conrad frozen in place, while Mortalian and Saint Gilles were rushing toward him at high speed.

"By the way, let me tell you how much I've regressed."

Macardo started cursing loudly.

………………

[Angron and Corax are also heading that way; if that old thing doesn't move, they'll arrive about a minute after us.]

"Motalian said, at that moment, he spread his wings and followed behind Saint Gilles," Mortarian said.

Out of some inexplicable aversion, the Pale Lord doesn't use his wings much; he's not familiar with flying, while Saint Gilles is the opposite.

This was the first time Mortarian had flown in such narrow terrain, and several times he felt his wings scrape against the walls, leaving deep dents.

Saint Gilles lost many feathers, and his once fluffy wings shrank considerably, the gray feathers becoming messy, but just enough for Mortarion to keep up with Saint Gilles.

Saint Gilles's flight also aided Mortalian's flight by generating air currents.

We need to hold out by ourselves for one minute.

The archangel blinked. Despite his disheveled appearance, his holy face remained perfect, with long, curled eyelashes and piercing gaze.

【uncertain,】

Motalian added,

[The souls of Macardo and Orl Perez are also there, bound by the old man. We can take advantage of the chaos to release them.]

Mortarian had gone to any lengths to beat Neos up; he just wanted to beat him up, it was that simple.

To paraphrase Hades, it's about making that arrogant, pretentious peddler who's always showing off come down and suffer.

Neos is so annoying.

Mortarian's words caused the archangel to fall silent for a moment, before a soft, hoarse voice rang out.

[After all these years, you're more open-minded than I imagined, Mortarian.]

Mortarian sneered.

The narrow-minded cannot survive, but I will be the last one standing—I will kill everyone I dislike.

I hope I'm not on your hate list.

Saint Gilles said it casually.

【No,】

He suddenly added, a smile playing on his lips.

Being on your hate list isn't so bad—at least I never think about what happened after that day; I shouldn't even exist.

Death knew what Saint Gilles was referring to; the archangel was purely going to sacrifice himself, but was saved by the old man.

Seven silent breaths escaped from Death's gas mask, then Mortarian spoke again.

At least we now have one chance to draw our swords against him, something those who fell into premature slumber could never have imagined.

The space fell silent again, with only the sound of the air currents created by the flapping of the archangel's wings remaining. Mortalian was also silent, and Death occasionally brushed away the gray feathers that flew onto his face, long hair, and hood—he hated birds, and that was why.

[Motalian, has anyone ever told you that you're not very good at comforting people?]

Saint Gilles' voice suddenly rang out.

Just as Mortarion was about to attack, the archangel immediately added another sentence.

But I appreciate your words; I know you did your best.

Saint Gilles forced a smile. He didn't want to delve into those complicated topics anymore. The pain of the past was like boulders beneath a calm lake; if you insisted on sinking to the bottom, you would be hurt by them.

Only the mad and those who have given up on the past can barely survive in this painful and desperate world.

Saint Gilles witnessed how Conrad transformed from a desperate madness to an indifferent madness, and also witnessed Mortalian's change—

The current Mortalian is almost unrecognizable from the original, but can he say that the Mortalian of the past is dead?

Saint Gilles didn't know the answer; he stood before his own grave, feeling a helpless sorrow.

But the act of beating the emperor filled his body with power.

The archangel was in extreme mental turmoil, but his body was not obeying him; the feedback from his flesh was being transmitted directly to the depths of his soul.

His body told him he wanted to beat Neos up.

【arrive. 】

Saint Gilles said calmly, then smoothly changed his forward-charging stance into a flying kick, without uttering a single unnecessary word.

Beneath the dazzling crystal chandelier in the restaurant, a gray birdman kicked at the Lord of Humanity.

boom! ! ! !

Nios smiled slightly as he sat steadily on the table, holding his tea. His original spot had been dented by the charging behemoth.

Thick dust billowed up, and a tall figure slowly appeared amidst the dust, his fist clenched.

“I am so glad to see you so energetic, Saint Gilles.”

Neos smiled and greeted his offspring politely, while behind him, the gaunt figure blocking the other path had an eerie glint in its eyes.

………………

"Don't send it! Don't send it!!!"

Hades slammed his fist on the table and yelled, almost running around in circles in his anxiety.

"I have a feeling they're going to give it to me?!"

"Don't make any noise!"

Tarasin roared,

"Your voice carries the power of the Star God, Hades! It's interfering with my recording! Trust Mortarion and Saint Gilles, okay? Don't think it's easy to beat them—they're really weak!!!"

Yay, it's gone!

------

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Chapter 728: Releasing the Sea or Running Away?

He is right in front of you.

This supreme, magnificent, indescribable bastard.

Can you punch him?

But first, you need to touch him.

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

Forgive my bluntness, but you seem unusually excited, my friend.

Whispers slipped through the writhing shadows, Corax judged cautiously, while Angron grinned.

Why shouldn't we be excited? Finally, we have a duel where we can set aside political and reputational considerations; we can finally have a real test against him.

The raven ruffled its feathers nervously, wanting to ask if it was really necessary to fight the Lord of Mankind.

In that vast subspace, the sun still slowly rotated; it had long since dimmed, but it was still the eternal sun.

That scorching, stinging light fell upon everyone's soul; his light was everywhere and all-encompassing.