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

Page 644

I wish you all the best.

Son of Vengeance

】

Guilliman's tone became much gentler and more subdued, a stark contrast to his sharp handwriting. The psionic knowledge in his writing made Hades think he was talking to Magnus, but Magnus would never be so humble.

"..."

Hades fell silent. He raised his eyes again and read the letter once more, word by word, until the very end. Just as Guilliman had written, dealing with the corpse of a god was no small problem.

He knew what Mortarian wanted to discuss with him.

So what is your answer?

Hades looked up at Mortarian, who had remained silent.

What do you think my answer would be?

During Hades' brainstorming session, Mortarion? The Pale Lord couldn't possibly be a power-hungry Primarch—

Hades knew perfectly well that Mortarion had once been extremely obsessed with power, but after the suffering had passed, Hades could no longer see much of that obsession with power in the Primarch.

Mortarian seemed more like someone who wanted to abandon all duties and the army at any moment and return to Barbaros to stay quietly, not intending to do anything—like a butterfly perched on a branch, or mist lingering in a field.

Once you truly reach the T0 level of combat power in this world, you realize that too much power is not a good thing.

"Take some, throw some away?"

Hades asked tentatively, and Mortarian laughed instead, wrinkles accumulating at the corners of his eyes.

[A vague answer—it reminds me of how you often fooled me like that before.]

"fool?"

Hades shouted,

"That's a wise answer. You were so prone to depression back then!"

Was it my fault?

Death sneered.

I often feel depressed now too. No one can avoid feeling pessimistic and frustrated under that workload—except for Guilliman. I miss Guilliman, even though he made quite a few mistakes.

"I miss Guilliman too."

They exchanged a glance and reached a consensus: the empire could not exist without Guilliman.

Ten thousand years later, they both came to terms with it.

It's no longer about being inferior to Guilliman or Macurag; the Primarch has long since stopped worrying about that Macurag tapestry in the office.

The more Mortalian worked, the more he realized one thing: why Hades had tried to win over Guilliman in the first place.

Despite his previous wildly wrong approach to psionics, the empire can do without Saint Gilles, without Angron, without Lemanrus... but it must never lose Robert Guilliman.

He even began to suspect that the Makurag tapestry might enhance the efficiency of government affairs through psionic means—perhaps he should hang one of the Makurag tapestries behind his office.

...No, never mind. Ten thousand years later, Mortarion thought he was slow-witted enough, but he was still not as shameless as Hades was at the beginning.

It's best not to compete with Hades in this area.

"So what exactly do you want?"

【…】

This is an opportunity.

[Slay the Eldar Death God, and reclaim the concept of extinction He wields for me... the authority to annihilate my race.]

【and,】

The Primarch paused.

[There's another possibility, Hades: do you think the "Grim Reaper" in the prophecy could be me?]

Hades' expression hardened.

"To replace the prophesied Grim Reaper?"

Yes, you will shatter Slaanesh's twin brother, Death, while I will seize the fragment of Death's authority from the Eldar, kill Slaanesh, and fulfill the prophecy—in accordance with the prophecy, the Warp will assist us to the fullest extent.

Their first priority now is to guard against Makado, followed by Slaanesh, and then Death, who was born after Slaanesh's death. Even with Hades and Mortarion, a war of attrition would still be extremely disadvantageous for them.

And... will other chaotic entities turn their attention here?

Mortarion turned his head and stared into deep space. Nurgle... no, He wouldn't come. As a "pawn" He had once loved deeply, Mortarion knew that Nurgle wouldn't come.

So, what about the remaining two?

Lord of Humanity... what are you doing now?

"But I have a question,"

Hades said,

"Where can I find the Spirit Race's Death God to kill Him first?"

【…】

Oh, he seems to have forgotten about that too.

Yay! That's it! 6k!

Chapter 686 Loyalty and Repentance!!

They woke up.

The dull sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor, and the candlelight on the walls cast Luther's shadow long. In a secluded spot where no dark angel could find him, Luther walked.

The group of people who had been sent out of the Comoros by the Lion King woke up, and he went to ask them for the Lion's last message.

After another turn—

"You are disloyal, Luther."

The mad interrogating priest had been waiting there for a long time. He held a priest's scepter as heavy as a warhammer, and the blade of reason, almost as tall as a mortal, gleamed coldly against the blood-stained wall.

Luther stopped, his deep-set eyes fixed intently on Asmody, the sound that rolled from his throat like the muffled growl of a lion threatened.

"You found your way here?"

“I was banished from the pride by you, but I have returned, traitor, fallen angel.”

Luther laughed, incredulous. Influenced by the lion, the Dark Angels remained a legion with complex interpersonal relationships. Sometimes he would wonder in the dead of night if this was a curse.

Because of this curse, many loyal lunatics have emerged within the legion.

Asmodée is one of them.

This damned new generation has no idea what happened in Caliban back then—or rather, perhaps none of them did—yet he stubbornly believes that fallen angels are guilty and deserve to be judged.

Yes, when Caliban fell, some of them did indeed turn to the dark side, but that was only a very small fraction.

After that, in order to avoid Makado's gaze, Luther had to hide the greater truth in the shadows, but the fallen angels were by no means the evil group that was outwardly portrayed.

Luther stepped forward and grabbed Asmodeus by the collar of his robe. Asmodeus was no match for him; that was a fact.

Asmody let out a low growl of threat, gripping Luther's forearm with one hand, the gauntlet rattling.

"I hope you didn't do anything to those people?"

Luther muttered, "These are the messengers the Lion King painstakingly sent out of the Comoros. He finally managed to find them."

The thought of what Asmodeus might do chilled the blood coursing through his veins.

"I will judge you first, traitor, the darkest of beings."

That is no.

Luther suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. He loosened Asmodian's collar, his gaze icy.

Asmody is a "loyal" warrior, but he has an extraordinary fanaticism for fallen angels, leading Luther to wonder if he might have been misled by the Inquisition's records.

This could even be the work of Makado, using vague and interconnected information to lure the new generation of lion cubs into finding the truth on their own, and then falling into his trap.

“I don’t want to fight you, Asmodel—I have only one goal: to bring the Lion King back.”

"Only one person can decide my loyalty, and that is Leon Johnson."

He also wanted to ask the Lion King what he had meant at the time.

Luther opened his arms,

“I see the confusion in your heart, Asmodel. Let me tell you a story, a story of why a pride of lions… fell apart.”

"You will then realize how foolish you are in your current actions."

He bared his fangs, plunging himself back into painful memories.

“We found him at the edge of the dense forest. When I saw him, I noticed a shadow receding from the hem of his robe, but I ignored it afterward—this was the most foolish mistake I ever made.”

He, like those giant beasts, was corrupted by Caliban.

"Because his first words were so shocking, I will always remember that scene."

The hunched old man, his robes stained with blood, looked up at me. His eyes held a light that only emperors and Leon could understand—it was the Imperial Regent, the Demon-Wearing Macado. He said—"

"Leon Johnson has betrayed us."

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

"what?!"

Luther's body moved before his mind could process it; he practically flew to block Macado's path, stopping the old man from continuing.

"Be on guard! Be on guard! Spread out and be on guard!"

Luther roared, and his knights immediately scattered, giving Luther and Macado enough space. He hoped that no one had heard anything, but that was obviously unrealistic.

After the people had dispersed enough space, Luther turned his attention back to Macado, the Imperial Regent in a very disheveled state.

"Please forgive my rudeness, Lord Macado,"

Luther's tone softened.

"Do you understand what you just said?"

Makado also looked confused; his aura was unstable, and tiny flashes of psionic energy exploded haphazardly around him.

“…Leon betrayed him,”

Makado spoke slowly, a light gradually appearing in his eyes.

“I remember now, Union Killman, he attacked me and took my Old Woman’s Sword.”

Macado raised his hand, showing Luther his blood-stained arm.

"They united with darkness and evil, interrupting my attack on Chaos...and then..."

Makado suddenly bent over, coughing violently, vomiting large chunks of foul-smelling blood from his mouth.

"I shouldn't be here..."

Makado's breath was weak.

“I should be on the battlefield, until I die and vanish completely… Why am I here? I’m sorry, child, I need rest. My psychic powers are interfering with me.”

Luther was in a state of great shock. He could understand each word Macardo said, but when the words were put together, he couldn't understand them at all.

Leon teamed up with Killieman, but Leon betrayed them, and Killieman betrayed them too?!

Luther was shocked; he could never believe the Lion's betrayal—but in fact, the Lion King had kept the Dark Angels and the Caliban in Caliban for nearly a century, and Luther had been waiting for his return. But… could the Lion really…?

What's more, there's Guilliman. Luther was seething with anger. During the years he worked with Leon, the Lion had repeatedly emphasized that they needed to be wary of the Thirteenth Legion.

Now Leon is with Killieman...?

But was Caliban truly the Emperor's slave? If Leon betrayed the Emperor, why didn't he come looking for his Caliban, or did he simply not care about Caliban at all?

No, stay calm, Luther.

Makado's words were only one side of the story, and besides, the old man was already in a state of some kind of psionic disorder. In an instant, Luther had already made up his mind.

"Collect the team."