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

Page 696

I originally wanted to question you—question you with many questions, but now all that remains in my heart is emptiness.

The Lord of Mankind's expression was indifferent, or rather, he had no expression at all. He simply looked at Saint Gilles, as if he were looking at... something.

“You are my child, and I cannot do my best for you. That’s all. It’s not your fault, my child.”

Upon hearing the Emperor's words, Saint Gilles seemed to shatter for a fleeting moment, but the next instant—Saint Gilles' fist slammed directly into the face of the Lord of Mankind!

call!

The fist's force passed through the Emperor's previous position; Saint Gilles's hands were empty. The Lord of Mankind had hidden himself. The Archangel, enraged, slowly released his grip. Beneath his feet, the golden flames on Mortarion's body faded. Death rose—

The archangel helped him up, and Mortarion merely glanced at the birdman, choosing to let the birdman's help go unchecked.

I think you and I both know who our common enemy is.

Mortarion's hoarse voice rang out. The Lord of Mankind had not used his full strength in exchange for Hades' inaction. But Death had been angry for too long, and he was looking forward to the moment when he would truly strike the Emperor.

Saint Gilles' face returned to calm, and the angel returning to the mortal world lowered his eyelashes.

Then he stretched out a hand toward Mortarian.

Without a word, Mortarian grasped Saint Gilles' hand without hesitation. Their hands were clenched tightly, their hatred and anger towards someone palpable in their gaze.

This was a kind of revolutionary camaraderie—even though they didn't work together for very long.

【Killiman, Angron, if you still believe in me… please help me this one time. This is my only request of you.】

Saint Gilles spoke slowly, and Angron walked over laughing, casually placing his hand on top of Mortarian's clenched hands. Mortarian felt uncomfortable and wanted to pull his hand away, but after a moment's hesitation, he silently accepted it.

He didn't want to miss today.

Guilliman watched them from behind; the Primarch longed to leave, the sight making him feel suffocated.

But at this moment, looking at the harmonious scene before him, Guilliman felt a strange calling, a call from human instinct, or perhaps from the blood ties between them.

So he silently stepped forward, forcing a smile.

I hope that going back won't cause any unnecessary trouble.

Even so, Guilliman also joined in, and unlike the others, he was already prepared to accept punishment.

Mortarian sneered. He sensed a power descending from Hades.

Conrad!

Death casually uttered a word, and a shrill scream rang out. Conrad grinned and came over, wiping his blood-stained hands on the blade.

Today's strategic objective is to severely damage the Lord of Humanity.

"It's a little embarrassing, but it's the best we can do," Mortarian said seriously.

At the same time, he felt a nauseating blackness clinging to their hands—a highly pure, almost perfect blackness surging up.

Hey! Wait! We're here too!!!

A cry of surprise rang out, and a red-skinned giant rushed out from beside the gate. Magnus's red hair was flying wildly, and it lashed out at Corax behind him, making it almost impossible for Corax to see where he was going.

Magnus pulled Corax and hurriedly ran this way.

Hades, watching from above, knew that Magnus's restraint of Corax might not be out of kindness, but rather to have another person share the blame and alleviate his own worries.

Wait, what's this?!

Just as he was about to reach the crowd, Magnus yelled and slammed on the brakes. He stared at the darkness and vowed never to run into it again.

I've decided to use my psionic powers to assist you—I won't be coming.

Corax was now trapped, so Magnus released Raven's hand with relief and took a few steps back, moving away from the Dark Domain.

After an awkward silence, Corax silently chose a spot next to Killieman and gently placed his hand on him.

So Mortarian continued.

The Lord of Mankind has not left—Hades has imprisoned him in the dungeon. It is time, time for him to pay the price… Whatever our past conflicts may have held, I, Mortarion, in the name of the Pale Lord, swear that you shall fight alongside me.

This was my own choice.

Saint Gilles spoke in a hoarse voice, while the others had various expressions but no objection.

……

"The harmony of the Primitives truly depends on the Emperor."

Hades couldn't help but exclaim that at this moment, in the face of dissatisfaction, anger and hatred towards the Lord of Man, all the Primarchs present put aside their prejudices, discontent and worldly views.

Even the most loyal and reliable Guilliman would have the urge to beat up Neos on some afternoon when he was tricked by the Lord of Man.

Hades had already locked down a section of the palace grounds; he sensed the soul of the Lord of Mankind moving within it—

Neos did not leave; perhaps he was also curious about what his offspring could achieve.

Macardo, standing next to Hades, sneered. Then, Hades' pupils trembled as he saw Macardo and Orl Persson also stand up.

Makado cracked his neck.

"Wait, what are you doing—"

"Beat Neos."

Macado grinned maliciously, and behind him, Or finally revealed a smile full of malice. The Lord of Mankind had yet to mention how to compensate Or Persson for the house destroyed by his psionic powers.

"Then why am I—"

"You can't right now."

Macado suddenly used his scepter as a club and pointed it at Hades.

"Let us go first."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, then jumped out of the window right in front of the shocked Hades. Or also jumped down smoothly. Hades stared wide-eyed as he watched Macado and Or walk towards the Primarch pile.

Before Macardo and Orl even got close, the mere appearance of the Primarchs caused them to scatter, as if ashamed to let people see what had just happened.

Motalian then bowed slowly and with a complex expression to Macado and Orl Persson.

Then Mortarian said through gritted teeth, clearly disgusted with his actions, but forced to do so for a higher purpose.

I believe we share the same goal—I do not wish for conflict to occur here.

The Pale Lord abruptly blocked Robert from stepping forward with one hand. Robert stared intently at Macado, seemingly unaffected by the previous beheading.

"It's natural."

Makado avoided Kiliman's gaze, and the old man gave a cold laugh.

“But now we should act—I don’t think you want to learn Neos’s trap-making skills.”

Then Macardo slammed his staff down, and in the next instant, the Primarchs who had just gathered in the hall vanished.

It was psionic teleportation! They were all teleported to different corners of the palace.

Hades frowned, thinking that Makado must have exhausted his life force this time, because he had forcibly teleported while resisting Hades' power.

Hades took a deep breath, picked up his tea, and decided to see what would happen next—it looked like Neos was in for a rough time today.

But the door behind him suddenly creaked open.

Hades turned around and saw a "mechanical sage" with a rat-like face sneaking in.

"I'm just here to record this scene, ignore me."

Tarasin said, then naturally jumped onto the chair next to Hades and sat down.

Everyone was now filled with determination, except for Hades, who was full of questions.

……

In a corner of the palace, thinking of how united his descendants were, just as he had set out for them, Neos couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 727 is too despicable.

Standing in a dusty corner beneath the palace.

He felt an unprecedented sense of determination.

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

【? ! 】

Killieman stumbled backward and, five minutes into the farce, bumped into his first brother in the long-abandoned study of the palace.

【Greetings—Regent of the Great Empire.】

A gaunt figure emerged from the shadows, his black hair hanging low. Koz licked his chapped lips and stared with amusement at the slightly wary Killieman.

【Hello,】

Guilliman replied calmly, his hand resting on the sword at his waist, his eyes fixed on Koz.

But I hope I meet Corax.

Robert Guilliman did not intend to give Kurtz too much dignity; both he and Conrad knew that the Midnight Prince did not need this concept.

Koz chuckled coldly, then darted to Guilliman's side like a ghost, lightly tapping Guilliman's armor with his long fingernails, making a soft clicking sound.

[A funny lame joke, but you're not planning on rejecting me?]

I don't want to meet our father alone.

Guilliman truthfully stated that he was unsure how to face the Lord of Man now that he was on the wrong side of the ship, so he might as well bring Conrad along and let the bat take the initiative to attack.

To be honest, even though Guilliman had just agreed to Saint Gilles's request, he was still not ready to fight the Emperor—Guilliman was still psychologically resistant, and he was trying to convince himself that this was just a rehearsal.

But now, a thin mist drifted across the floor, and Guilliman could feel the power emanating from the Pale Lord; clearly, someone was planning to get serious.

Killieman began to walk cautiously again, and after a chilling chuckle, Conrad followed, looking particularly happy now.

【Do you know, my little Lawful Regent—I truly grieve for our brothers who cannot participate in this event.】

Koz said cheerfully, but the real meaning behind his words was that he was glad he had made it this far and was able to participate in the competition—but clearly neither of the Primarchs realized this.

I find it hard to imagine Dorn participating in an event like this.

Guilliman judged fairly that if Dorn were still awake, this mountain-like Primarch would have thrown a punch the moment the Primarchs decided to beat up the Emperor—at the masterminds of the rebellion.

Rogue Dorn would not hesitate to stop them, and Guilliman was certain that Dorn would say something extremely unpleasant, and they would have to defeat Rogue Dorn before they could fight the Emperor.

Koz booed, clearly agreeing with Guilliman's assessment.

[But the good news is that Mortarion is back now, and Dorn will wake up soon—wait.]

Killieman stopped abruptly, his gaze sweeping through corridor after corridor until a huge commotion erupted in the area where the golden dome gathered, in what resembled a restaurant.

Killieman's expression suddenly changed.

It's Makado.

He said, but his steps faltered.

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

"I am heartbroken, my friend."

The dark-haired, brown-eyed man spoke calmly, opening his arms as if to embrace his dearest friend as he always had.

"I feel quite comfortable."

Makado said, pointing his scepter firmly at the Emperor, from which violent psionic lightning surged.

"How long has it been since we last fought? Ten years? One hundred years? Three thousand years? Or ten thousand years—not counting the match your son played for you."

"If you want to spar, you can come find me anytime."

Neos said calmly, the lightning on the Macado Scepter brought up a storm, blowing wildly through the Lord of Man's long hair. Such powerful spiritual pressure would even make the Primarch feel pressured, but the Lord of Man merely blinked.

He then turned his gaze to Olpeson beside Macardo, his expression showing even more sorrow—or rather, resentment.

"And what is your reason, my commander?"

"Don't mention that disgusting name,"

Or said, enunciating each word clearly.

“I don’t want to share a name with a child who has an Oedipus complex—but I sympathize with him because I was once deceived by you too.”