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

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“False gods appear in every corner of human history. Their followers and believers crowd into every unnoticed corner, waiting to tear us to pieces and drag us into a mad hell.”

"Our battle with them is far more protracted and arduous than we imagine. They appeared on the very first page of human history, bewitching souls with lies. Since then, they have instigated betrayal, distorted knowledge, and corrupted souls..."

Time and again, we fight them with psychic power, we fight them with faith, we drive them away with gunpowder and fire! But they always return, in the whispers of loved ones, in the corner of a piece of paper, in the grains of rice on the table; they are everywhere, seeking only to steal our souls!

“I used to think that as long as souls are burning, as long as humanity exists, they will exist forever, no matter how much ammunition we pour out, using lives as the fuse to trigger explosion after explosion, they will still exist and relentlessly erode the world we inhabit.”

Hades was silent for a moment. He glanced again at the endless army. The people were silent. He didn't know what they were thinking, but even in the low concentration of the dark aura, their souls were so dazzling at this moment.

"but,"

Hades said softly,

"Human beings are a fortunate race—we possess faith, and our souls shine so brightly that they are both sustenance for false gods and a sharp sword piercing them. The faith of generation after generation has forged miracles—"

Hades took another breath.

"Generation after generation, countless noble souls, you entrusted your faith and vision to me and the Lord of mankind, using them to forge the sharpest blade in our hands, a weapon forged by the wishes of countless people! The moment I saw it, I realized that the false gods hiding in the warp are not invincible."

"I realized that hundreds of thousands of years of hardship could be put to an end here, and humanity could lift the shadows on the line of destiny! We can take control of our own destiny!"

"—Now, I want to tell you the ultimate goal of this expedition."

Hades said,

"We are going to kill a god."

Hades said,

"We're going to slay the gods!"

“The false gods are not invincible—ten thousand years ago, I began my experiments against them; three thousand years ago, the Pale Lord personally tore open the veil to fight the false gods; six months ago, I severely injured one of them!”

"Now is the best time to slay the false god,"

Hades said,

Slaanesh is weak, and they cannot allow the Grim Reaper within Him to break free, lest the newly born god once again stir up massive waves in the Warp, further strengthening the Warp.

"We must liberate the Misty Starfield from the clutches of the struggling false gods and truly slay one of them—but this is merely the first page of humanity's rebellion against Chaos! We must behead them all! Humanity's destiny will shine in our own hands!"

"Warriors, we will all be etched in human history! We will slay the gods! Mortals also possess such power—as long as we unite! With faith as our sword!"

"Yes, we will sacrifice a lot, many will die, many will lose their lives—but no price is too high! The suffering that humanity has endured for millennia will end in our generation! The fall of a false god will be the greatest reward for all our sacrifices! Its domain will no longer blind us—we will save countless souls afterward!"

Hades said,

"Soldiers, grip your swords and guns tightly, for we are destined to write a glorious chapter!"

"We're going to slay the gods!"

The dark abyss churned and surged, its extremely low concentration only bringing a sense of calm—as emotions faded, the reefs of reason emerged on the shore.

Hades turned to the side, finished speaking, but did not intend to withdraw from the Black Domain. Droplets of liquid gushed out from the Black Tide, solidified into irregularly shaped black stones, and floated in front of everyone.

"Take these, soldiers, this is my blessing to you."

Hades said that with such a large quantity, he couldn't possibly have the energy to create a regular shape. He didn't linger and turned back into the shadow cast by the Gate of Eternity.

People still looked shocked; they should have been overjoyed—but the Dark Domain held them back. They trembled as they put away the floating black stones in front of them. It didn't matter; they would be excited and elated later.

But some people remained deeply emotional. Hades saw someone faint in the Mechanicus ranks, and he saw tears on the faces of some members of the legion; they were too emotional—

Not everyone is born to be cherished and given gifts, especially in this world, where this may be their first "gift".

Hades then saw the political commissar stopping Oglin from swallowing the black stone.

……

He decided to look away, no longer wanting to watch the poor political commissar being manipulated by Oglin, as guards had already rushed up to rescue him.

Hades winked at Mortarian, signaling that it was his turn.

Mortarian looked speechless. Death reluctantly moved his feet, muttering something as he passed Hades.

I don't need to say anything.

But he still stood there. After the archbishop with strong mental fortitude introduced his military rank, Mortarion was the "war commander" of this great expedition. To avoid suspicion, he was now called the "Lord of the Sun".

Motari stood there quietly, waiting for the final commotion and silence in the crowd. Thanks to his makeup, he did look quite convincing.

I am Mortarion, the commander-in-chief of this expedition.

Motalian said, as if it were a merciless loudspeaker,

I'll only say two things.

First, I agree with everything Hades said.

Secondly, I led the Death Guard into the Warp and severely damaged a False God; therefore, I am the overall commander of this expedition.

Mortarian nodded, turned, and left the field.

Hades believes he has seriously wasted what is still a decent look.

5.7, great! That's all!

Chapter 672 The Frontline

[Cardinal John Fabian of the Church of Hades, Ultimate Sector of the Misty Starfield, ID HDSO399470111a.]

Reflection for the Day: Death is the final game.

John could clearly see the black stone dog tag hanging around his neck fluttering in front of him, with enemy aircraft and ships streaking across the azure sky in the background. The line of fire cut through the sky, casting a blinding white line in his dark pupils.

boom! ! !

Explosions rang out around him one after another, and chunks of mud rained down on him, carrying a pungent, fishy smell.

In the slow, suspended feeling, John first cursed, "Damn it, this damn teaching!"

Then he began to feel fortunate that he had been thrown into the sky by the shockwave; if he had remained on the ground, he would probably have already fallen into a coma.

hum-

He was faithfully thrown back to the ground by gravity. John felt dizzy and lightheaded. Most of his protective equipment had already stopped working due to overload. This time, the force field generator saved his life.

“&…%#@& The Bishop!”

John was roughly grabbed by some guy, and the reinforcements started pulling him back. He swore his waist had been cut by the barbed wire, but the reckless guy was still frantically pulling him back.

"Ouch! I'm not dead! I'm not dead! Stop fussing—"

John felt a metallic taste in his mouth, vomited blood, and was successfully dragged into the trench.

Then there was another commotion, and the cardinal heard an annoying mechanical voice before a cold needle was plunged directly into his kidney.

"hiss--"

John's pupils contracted first, then dilated. Cold liquid rushed into his veins, making his scalp tingle and his heart pound. His blurry vision gradually cleared, and he saw a smug face.

"There is no danger to his life."

The geneticist said, withdrawing his hand that had been used to pry open the bishop's eyelids.

"Do you want efficiency or recovery?"

He asked John, but before John could speak, Genes had already made the decision for him.

“I think it’s about efficiency. You can’t fall, Bishop.”

The oil guy bent down, reached out and used his hand as a blade, and with one blow, he chopped off John's lower leg, which was still covered with skin and a little bone!

"Agh!!! What the hell!!!"

The excruciating pain caused John to curl up like a shrimp, but Genes had anticipated this and used his mechanical appendages to hold John down, preventing him from convulsing further.

“Painkillers are in short supply. Analysis shows that your consciousness is four times that of an average person. You won’t faint from this pain, Bishop.”

"You still know I'm a cardinal!"

John wanted to hit Genes on the head with his scepter, but the excruciating pain stopped him. Genes then did something to his broken leg and then got up with satisfaction.

"A temporary prosthesis, without any follow-up treatment, will rot at the cut surface in three to four days. If you live to see that time, remember to come find me or my friend."

Genes said, giving a simple bow to John's guard, Silent Man, who returned the bow and placed something in Genes's upward-facing palm.

"Damn it!!! You bastard, you're still ripping me off! Do you even know I'm a bishop?!"

"Pluto also needs to pay a fee."

The geneticist said, and disappeared around the next bend in the tunnel, carrying the red robe.

"Sir, you need to rest now. I will come to find you in seven minutes."

Silent Wisdom said that after saying that, she assumed the bishop was resting now. Picking up her heavy explosive pistol, she took two steps and kicked off the pit wall, flipping herself back to the ground, leaving John alone groaning in pain.

"Your mother."

John said he took a deep breath.

He wanted to find a deputy to help him, but now all that's left in the trenches are dead or about to die. There aren't many survivors left on the front lines, and the damn local garrison is retreating.

Retreat! Retreat the hell out! We've lost air and sea control! Where can they run to?!

The cardinal trembled as he reached into his breast pocket, where a perfectly preserved black stone, blessed by Hades, lay. Touching it would unleash Hades' power.

"By Hades."

He said that he had successfully reduced his pain a little thanks to Pluto's blessing.

John glanced at his broken leg, his eye twitched, and he decided to stop looking at his poor left leg.

He took seven more deep breaths to calm himself down.

John struggled to reset his communication channel; the explosion had left his communication equipment screaming loudly.

14.7…4.00…John carefully tuned the channel.

His brain, which had been throbbing wildly after being pricked by the Genesis, began to race. He realized that what had just bombed him were Razorwing fighters from the Dark Eldar, and the missiles they had released were some kind of targeted decapitation missiles—all aimed at him!

Oh shit!

John cursed inwardly, "Damn it, he's not dead! Not only is he not dead, he's going to stuff all these alien bastards into the latrine!"

The communicator beeped, and John felt a sudden sense of relief; the communication band hadn't been taken over by those crazy lunatics yet.

He pursed his lips and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"X66300, Y47400, Regate Farm, Cardinal John of the Church of the Underworld, the Eastern Front has collapsed. We will be withdrawing to the East District in ten minutes."

"The losses are heavy, and the number of casualties is not yet clear."

"I'm glad you're still alive, Bishop."

A heavy voice came from the channel, accompanied by the sound of a heavy sword cutting through the air in the background.

"Just now, my brothers in the battle group saw three Eldar machine gun formations loitering on the eastern front. I think they're looking for you."

The Twilight Rebels, a sub-church of the Deathguards, judging from the voice, their chapter leader must have been killed in battle. John recognized the voice as that of the chapter's second-in-command.

"Heh heh, you son of a bitch, you're looking for me—where's Theodore?"

John groaned weakly.

“Our chapter commander has fallen, and we cannot guarantee that we can hold the northern front—the Titans of the Cypra Forged World ahead of the northern front have all lost their fighting capacity. We do not wish to retreat for the time being. Do you have any heavy firepower capable of dealing with the Eldar Titans, Bishop?”

"Of course he didn't."

Another unpleasant voice appeared, a mechanical voice, from the world of Cypra Forging, said the Great Sage Lavie.

“My geneticists have just reported that Bishop John’s vital signs are low. John, you should choose a burial site.”

"Living in the city like you?"

John countered with a question, but the Great Sage was not angered by it.

“I’ve set up a small general’s cannon on the north wall, but it’s in pretty bad shape. The energy storage block is about to explode, and I think it has two shots left. Bishop, this is our last chance.”

"I saw at least three alien Titans still standing!!! Why the hell didn't you take them out earlier?!"

“Bishop, I only managed to revive it one minute and fifty-three seconds ago—you should know that I am the one who suffered the greatest loss this time; my entire Titan Order was wiped out.”

"Sage, can you guarantee the hit rate?"

"We can't be sure; the Eldar Titans are moving too fast, and we need to hold them off."