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

Page 625

Therefore, she was directly assigned to the Soulless Unit, and the Underworld Cult deployed these people as needed, with more lenient approval processes.

"But it'll only be a little while."

She comforted him.

"After that, we'll go to the battlefield. All you need to do is kill the enemy. Nobody cares if we lose face."

After the parade, their unit will disperse under the command of the Nirvana System and stand at attention at different locations in the corridor in front of the Eternal Gate—until the legion or corps they are to follow arrives.

"Which squad have we been assigned to? The female leader?"

"It looks like Krieg."

Cecilia scratched her head.

"I heard they also like to use shovels—that's a good thing, big oaf, that way they won't look down on us."

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 671 Terra Military Parade

Hades wrinkled his nose at the heavy incense. He looked up and glanced once more at the towering gate.

It was almost dawn.

According to the parade procedure arranged by the master of ceremonies, first Hades spoke on behalf of divine authority, then the Pale Lord—basically, he gave a speech—and finally the people walked around the long square before heading to the battlefield.

He never liked to embellish something with too many words. Hades tended to simplify and minimize the computational power consumed, but to others, his simplification might be too sacrilegious.

Hades lowered his eyes.

This may seem a bit formalistic, but it is necessary. In this world, honor and loyalty are often more valuable than gold and more precious than life itself.

He wants to reward the warriors, give the brave a sword, encourage the cowards to take up arms, and witness mortals slaying dragons.

Behind the gate, in that long line, each of them might face chaos head-on, becoming ants piled up beneath the throne of a false god, pulling down the deity with their own bodies.

Even Hades or the God Emperor... could not complete the path of god-slaying alone. They could severely injure Him and cause Him pain—but they could never eliminate that vast chaos on their own.

This will be an unimaginable war, but they must seize this rare opportunity.

All he can do is achieve victory at the lowest cost, stripping away personal interests; on the battlefield, no one can be a chess player alone.

Outside the door, a mournful wind howled through the night.

Hades clenched his fist, his chiseled face expressionless; he was ready.

He stood there, like a solid piece of black stone sculpted by nature's divine hand. He ignited lightning, and tiny silver dragons clung to his body, dimming the Milky Way because of him.

He is not the constant sun, but a darkness that craves the sun.

Behind Hades, the towering, sharp-featured Grim Reaper silently bowed his head. Life stood still here. He was the embodiment of countless hardships, and every protruding bone was a rebellion against fate. A slight hissing sound proclaimed that he was still a living being.

Beside Death, the guard Vox wore a ruthless expression, his eyes, half-hidden by wrinkles, revealing a disdain for life and death.

The velvet robes trailed to the ground. Macardo, understated yet indifferent, revealed an impatient gaze beneath his hood. His lips were pursed, and his withered hands had once determined the rise and fall of an empire, capable of destroying a kingdom with a mere flick of the wrist.

On the scepter held high by the believer, the incense burner swayed, releasing a hazy mist. The two archbishops of the state religion and the underworld religion exuded an imposing aura without anger. The former revered figures, who were above all others, were now nothing more than insignificant figures, like dust.

I don't think you'd ask me to boost morale... Hades.

Death spoke quietly, and Hades smiled, thinking he wouldn't make things difficult for this Primarch who was naturally difficult to talk to.

Although he knew that Mortarian wasn't incapable, but simply didn't want to.

"I will."

Meanwhile, his words were drowned out by the dull blast of the bugle.

The deep sound of cannon salutes came from behind the door, and in the biting cold wind, the first rays of morning light pierced the white snow.

Rarely opened, the towering gate, as tall as a hundred people, slowly swung open—

The smoke of battle mingled with the dawn.

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

boom! ! !

Thick smoke billowed up as fighter jets, like daggers, streaked across the sky. In an instant, three sparks exploded again, and huge dark clouds descended.

Hold the line!!!

The cardinal roared and raised his scepter. The force generator in the scepter was already humming at maximum power, and the flesh minced by the hammering was charred before it could fall off.

Before him, a vast army stretched out in a single line, blasphemous banners fluttering, and the enemy's massive divine machines stepped onto the battlefield, the alien mountains surging toward him.

But he never flinched.

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

The double-headed eagle banners fluttered in the wind, their gold gleaming at dawn. The Imperial Guards stood in formation on both sides of the square, their red tassels fluttering in the air.

Hades stepped onto the high platform and looked into the distance. He saw an endless army, some high and some low, and people were also looking up at him, hoping to see a "god" clearly.

The ceremony was presided over by the Archbishop of the Church of the Underworld. His enormous voice boomed, but the words he spoke had long since dissipated into the wind, turning into a sweltering silence among the troops waiting for the parade.

The Archbishop of Hades stepped back, standing in the light, and respectfully made way for Hades.

The sun continues to move, the only true "sun" in human civilization, bringing light and heat, brightness and hope to this civilization. It casts its light, shining on the very center of the marble.

Beside the light lay an eternal, unchanging darkness, a void that seemed to steal one's soul, and there stood he.

People looked up.

Those who are foolish, wise, weathered and conservative, those who are stepping onto the battlefield for the first time; the resolute can still maintain their composure, subtly shifting their peripheral vision, while the others raise their heads, wanting to see something, yet unable to articulate what they hope to see—their hearts are gripped tightly.

Perhaps what is truly being stirred up is the soul.

The wind that squeezed through the heavens and earth took everything away. The blazing sun scorched the gates of eternity. They watched as the gilded drops flowed down, a hazy golden light spreading, and the sculptures on them looked back at them.

despair.

Strangely, it wasn't quiet here; on the contrary, there was the howling wind, the roar of engines, and the pounding of hearts—but that faint sound was so clear, as if it weighed a ton.

Hades saw all sorts of people. He saw the proud forest green armor of the Dark Angels, the slightly dull bone white of the Death Guards, and the golden yellow of the Imperial Fists.

These transformed warriors stand proudly, like a precious sword displaying its power; they will be the empire's sharpest weapon to plunge into chaos.

He also saw other soldiers: the Mordian Iron Guard in their neat uniforms, the Ventrilian nobles with white feathers on their heads, the somewhat somber Krieg Death Legion... and the Oglin team pushing and shoving each other. Perhaps the Oglin team was the one that was working the hardest to train their formations.

The Mechanicus sages still held their scepters aloft, their glaring crimson and incense a testament to their exclusion and discrimination against the rest. Binary prayers and gears worked in unison, and Hades saw Kirkland.

The divine machinery followed these devout sages. The magnificent machinery, as large as a mountain, the perfect creation, could not stand here. Only a huge corner of it could be seen in the distance.

Now, they are all watching him.

It is perhaps rare in the history of the Empire to assemble an army of such a size—vast, chaotic, and even containing technological creations of other races—but they have finally reached this point, thanks to the efforts of Hades and others.

They all stand here, gathered from alien planets millions of light-years away, simply because they are all warriors of the Empire, simply because they share the same blood.

So, what should he promise them?

Emperors promise them glory, Death promises them death, so what will he promise them?

What will Hades promise?

Hades stopped, but did not command the Dark Domain. The darkness, like a tamed beast, lay prostrate beside him. He let everyone see him clearly, without a mask, without emptiness; he was simply himself.

The faceless sculptures that have existed for a thousand years now have faces.

He has a human face and eyebrows, and his pupils contain the ruthlessness and compassion unique to humans. Without a doubt, he is a human being, and gods are human beings.

He will promise them... truth and reality.

This is a privilege unique to Hades.

At this moment, he has no desire to engage in deception. The biggest reason that has supported him to this point is honesty and truthfulness. He uses the truth as a sharp sword to shatter the falsehoods of language.

He doesn't need to embellish himself with lies. All his previous efforts, perseverance, work, and countless sleepless nights of paperwork were for the sake of having the confidence to speak the truth.

He gave each soldier a new gun and brand-new armor, set the logistics behemoth in motion, and ensured the operation of the medical system; he provided a comfortable environment for their families back home; he re-selected officers, applied the Nirvana System, and vowed not to let incompetent commanders waste their lives in vain.

At the same time, he wanted people to see why they were fighting, why the war was necessary, and why they wanted to win.

All he needs to do is state the truth.

After all the glory, fame, and money, they were promised the truth alone.

At Hades' feet, darkness began to surge forth, instantly flowing like a gurgling stream, cascading down the steps and overflowing the feet of the people.

The sun still shone directly overhead, but he did not block it out; he simply provided them with a solid foothold.

This world is full of falsehoods and lies, and chaos uses them to toy with their souls, causing them pain and plunging them into an abyss.

The darkness spread extremely quickly, and some commotion began to emerge among the crowd, mainly between the various corps. However, the political commissar immediately took action to quell the unrest within the ranks.

Hades was not offended by this; he was not a master of formalism, and if he had proposed it—perhaps everyone would have been sitting and listening.

He felt the River Styx washing over every soul, every shining and burning soul, each person born pure and radiant.

Hades took a soft breath.

He is still not good at giving speeches in large venues. When will the emperor step down from his seat?

“Respectable soldiers,”

He said that the exam-oriented education system still makes him start with phrases like "respected leader".

The slightly noisy crowd instantly fell silent, and the huge square became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"I am so glad to see you, to see your pure and noble souls—especially to see you here."

"Terra, we are standing on the cradle of human civilization. From this very soil, humanity took its first step."

"What followed was a long and arduous journey spanning tens of thousands of years. After escaping gravity, our civilization experienced both glory and decline, and was on the verge of destruction."

"We have created unimaginable miracles and ignited wars powerful enough to burn down the galaxy. No power in the galaxy is willing to fight an empire that is going all out."

"But when I look at you, at the Empire, at human civilization, in the vast Milky Way, I clearly see this flickering candlelight—I have never understood why such a great civilization is still shrouded in a shadow?"

"I have been searching for the answer to this question. I hope to sweep away the gloom on the fate of mankind. I hope that mankind will be glorious and prosperous. So, what is the answer to this question?"

Is it because we didn't work hard enough?

"But I see the sweat of every worker in the factory, hear the panting of every miner in the mine, and touch the calluses left on soldiers from pulling the trigger. Humans are a hardworking race, although there are occasionally parasites among us—but most of us are not, and they deserve a more glorious and better future."

Is it because we're not smart enough?

"But I see scholars burying themselves in ancient texts, and sages seeking knowledge in the vast Milky Way. Humanity is a race that loves knowledge. Although war and conflict may burn our books and behead the wise, those who come after will still embark on the path of seeking knowledge with unwavering determination—they should freely learn what they want and freely apply what they have learned."

Hades was silent for a moment. He looked at the people, his dark eyes seeming to scrutinize them as well as to express pity.

"Is it... because we have no faith?"

Hades said, ignoring the barely perceptible tremor of the two archbishops behind him.

"But I look into your souls, and your souls are so pure and radiant, so real and vibrant. I listen to your prayers, I hear the believers' supplications to me, I hear the believers' prayers to the Lord of mankind. You are all striving to walk your own paths. Among you are those who hope to sacrifice for the Empire, those who fight for a better life... You each have your own faith to fight for—humanity has never been a race lacking faith."

"What exactly is it?"

"I have walked a long way in search of answers. I have punished sinners and broken off the dead branches of humanity. I have established academies to allow scholars to speak freely. I have promised everyone a better life and I have answered every prayer."

"But I still haven't found the answer."

Hades asked,

So what exactly is it?

"What is it that has become the inescapable shadow over human destiny? What causes us to fall suddenly just before we reach glory? What taints our souls, leading us toward blasphemy and madness?"

The River Styx surged on, ensuring that everyone was submerged in shallow water.

"Finally, I found the answer,"

Hades said,

"False gods."

He sensed something looking at Tyra, but Hades calmly banished those gazes.

Even without his intervention, the light of the star torches would be enough to dispel them.

“In the subspace,” he said, “there exist four false gods who are beyond our imagination and completely contrary to reality—they feed on the fluctuations of our souls, devour human extreme emotions, they are the embodiment of absolute malice, and they take pleasure in human suffering.”

"I have personally witnessed noble souls sink into depravity under the seduction of false gods, manipulating souls who longed to live with lies. They turn effort into laziness, knowledge into poison, and faith into absurdity."