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

Page 619

Go back and sit down and rest! I'll pay for whatever you want to buy!

Ilan took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one for himself, and tossed one to the missionary of the Underworld Church.

The political commissar is the only non-Krieg person in the Krieg Legion. These unfortunate guys are assigned by the Ministry of Military Affairs. For the political commissars, the Krieg Death Legion is not a good place.

The priest stood with one hand on his hip and the other smoking.

“What does our little political commissar want? Although I came to Krieg today to sell things, I brought a few books for your enjoyment, as well as chocolate and candy, just to take care of you.”

Ilan waved his hand roughly.

"Messages, I need messages—and can I get a tattoo here?"

These petty thieves are also responsible for relaying messages, and the fact that the Underworld Cult covers all the empire's territory makes it even more convenient for these bastards. But the only good news is that if the Underworld Cult's Grand Bishop speaks out, or if it involves a war between the empire and alien races, then the Underworld Cult's messages will be free.

The woman frowned, took a deep drag on her cigarette, and scoffed, "Inferior product."

"Get a tattoo here?"

"Sure, I'll get this tattooed here. Which one is the most effective at protecting against pollution? How much Terran does it cost?"

"free."

Sparks flew from the cigarette near the priest's mouth, the paper burned to its shortest length, and long strands of tobacco peeked out, as if they were about to fall off at any moment.

"free?"

Commissar Yilan was a little incredulous. He looked at Priest Ming, who smiled and took out a tattoo pen from the box.

"The task of preaching to Lord Hades is of course free, otherwise why would we make money?"

She raised an eyebrow and handed the tattoo design provided by the Underworld Sect to the political commissar.

"Take it off, take off your shirt."

While cursing these lazy and irresponsible cultists in his heart, the political commissar chose the pattern he wanted. He had heard some rumors from other political commissars that the next war would likely be a matter of life and death.

Ilan never intended to leave alive after being assigned to the Krieg Legion, but—with the Emperor above, Hades above, and the Lord of Pale above—he didn't want to become neither human nor ghost.

He heard from other veterans that the tattoos provided by the Underworld Cult were somewhat useful, although the effect was negligible, but something was better than nothing.

Ilan gritted her teeth.

"I want this."

He pointed to a half-body image of Hades on a crumpled piece of paper. The black lines resembled flowing water, giving rise to a viscous demigod. One hand covered his face, with a scarlet left eye peeking out from between his fingers. Below the half-body image were the words "HADES" in cursive script.

The priest whistled, and a bottle of alcohol was splashed directly onto the political commissar's chest, making Ilan shudder.

"Good choice."

The red-haired woman took out a small bottle containing an ominous mixture of bone white and black powder. She carefully opened it and poured some into the tattoo pen.

She dragged the supply box over and sat down on it, then roughly took the paper from the political commissar's hand and shoved another piece of paper into his hand.

"read,"

The priest said,

"You have to keep reciting the prayer while getting the tattoo, but you can also just say Hades directly. My advice is that the word 'Hades' must appear once every three seconds."

After saying that, Priestess Ming immediately began reciting. She was expressionless, and Ilan noticed that she was quickly reciting the contents of these few sheets of paper.

"Okay, okay—"

The political commissar took a deep breath.

"Praise Hades—Awooo!!!"

"Don't scream!"

"By Hades! This hurts more than a regular tattoo!"

"Your soul is weak! Hades is corrupting your spirit—this is His test for your soul! Endure!"

"By Hades!"

The political commissar felt tears welling up in his eyes; it wasn't just physical pain, but also a profound sense of powerlessness.

"So what is Hades planning to do when he first assembles his army after returning?"

"Conquest? Have you forgotten the chaotic expedition of Hades's close friend, the God of Death, a thousand years ago? Political Commissar! This is not a required course for you!"

Ilan gasped.

"Me? We're going to the warp?"

"It's about the same, but I heard the environment is better than there. I don't know the specifics. I'll have to wait until my colleague who went to the Salamander to sell craft materials comes back to find out."

"Pluto! How many legions will participate in this expedition?!"

"At least three large legions will have to be mobilized."

The woman said, pressing down hard on the skin of the political commissar that was trembling with pain.

"Only Hades can mobilize these arrogant behemoths, as well as countless warbands."

"By the Emperor—by Hades, I feel I am about to see an army I've never seen before in my life—hiss—"

"Don't assume that just because there are many Space Marines, we're safe."

The priest sneered.

“We have already started mobilizing retirees here. The estimated attrition rate of the Ming Cult is over 85 percent.”

Ilan glanced at the red-haired woman in astonishment.

"You want to go too?"

"All the Hades priests you meet in these three months will be fighting alongside you—not on the outskirts, but deep inside the battlefield."

Ilan was extremely surprised. He realized more and more that they were going to fight a pretty formidable monster, but so far only the highest command level knew what they were facing.

"What exactly are we supposed to fight?!"

You'll find out in a few days.

The woman laughed.

"Either Hades or the Pale Lord will mobilize the army. Take a good look at your eyes these next few days—this may be the only time in your lives you'll ever see such a big shot."

"Then, what will my team face?"

Ilan felt the tattoo pen pause for a moment.

"Your siege regiment has been assigned to the Church of the Underworld, not the Church of the State. You will most likely be deployed on the battlefield in coordination with the Death Guards. The Church of the Mechanic has the priority of acquiring new equipment for the Krieg 94th and 37th Siege Regiments. Your priority is after theirs, so you may not necessarily be in the very center and may be coordinating with the Church of the Underworld."

"and,"

The priest said,

"Pluto is merciful, so there's no need to worry that he'll use you as filler soldiers—I know what you're thinking, Commissar. There is indeed a lot of prejudice against the Death Legion, but Pluto is not among them."

"alright--"

The woman patted the political commissar, and with her other hand, she skillfully stuffed a piece of candy into Yilan's mouth, which was about to speak, effectively silencing the commissar's doubts.

"Generally speaking, for ordinary people, praying to Hades for more than three minutes can cause dizziness and hypoglycemia."

The red-haired woman put away her weapons.

"You're about to receive new equipment, get ready, those guys from the Mechanicus have gone crazy."

Will there be new entrenching tools?

Among the piles of Krieg lying on either side of the aisle, one guy asked, "They look like they're resting, but maybe they're not actually asleep at all, but are listening intently to see who's next to be attacked."

"have,"

The priest laughed.

"New protective suits, melee weapons that glow green, self-repairing systems, vehicles that don't require many drivers... You have no idea what the Mechanicus has pulled out."

“I hope you will be polite to the mechanics, madam.”

A metallic sound rang out, and the people who had just finished their discussion dispersed. The sage then walked over and took out an entrenching tool from under his robe, the model that Krieg used most often.

“Look,”

The sage said he felt all the Kriegs around him staring at him, so he pressed the button.

Buzz—energy activated, and a mesmerizing green light enveloped the shovel blade.

This is a phase entrenching tool.

"His warriors!"

The sage roared with fervor, raising his entrenching green shovel high like a prize.

On the other side, the disdainful priest was pulled aside by the political commissar.

"and many more,"

Ilan asked in a low voice,

"Shouldn't preaching about gods be the job of your missionaries in the underworld?"

"The Dark Sect advocates keeping a low profile."

The priest's eye twitched as he watched the sage put on a brave face.

"In the name of Hades! Great Om Messiah! Each of you will be guaranteed a beautiful and dazzling entrenching tool! It can cut through anything! Soldiers! Before Hades returns, this weapon is more valuable than an entire company of you!"

"But now! Each of you can have a shovel like this!"

It's not just technological iteration; the research and production privileges granted by Hades, along with the resource integration brought about by the application of the Nirvana System, enable the Mechanicus to produce these weapons on a large scale.

Even though no one spoke, Ilan felt that all the Kriegs in the lounge were ablaze with energy.

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

"The Emperor is above..."

The dark-skinned warrior stood amidst the flames, his eyes filled with anguish as he gazed at the scene before him—countless young and mutilated Eldar corpses collapsed in the flames, turning to ashes with the tongues of fire.

"Blasphemy, utterly blasphemous."

The fire salamander shook its head.

Why did they send young children to the battlefield?

Beside the salamander company commander, a person wearing a full set of protective clothing, with the words of the Netherworld Church engraved on the clothing, walked over and carefully examined the charred corpses.

This was clearly different from the usual Eldar. At least the usual Eldar did not grow scales, had long and sharp tongues, and had dark and eerie eyes. The bishop felt his eyes burning as he saw the Slaanesh symbol tattooed on the corpse's skin.

Among the tens of thousands of corpses, similar faces always flash by.

"These are all failures."

The bishop of the Church of the Underworld gritted his teeth and said...

"He is testing us! Report this immediately! Our current Soulless forces are insufficient; this area needs to be eradicated—otherwise, the warp will soon become indistinguishable from the physical world!"

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

"The meeting decided,"

Buz said calmly, but his voice carried an air of authority.

"The Pale Lord will serve as the Sun Lord, leading the Imperial Army in a counterattack against the Eldar's routed army."

"Now, those who disagree, please raise your hands. This is the last time you will object."

At the long table, Mortarion, who had just returned from Barbarossa, glanced at the others with a deathly expression. Macardo, who was opposite him, remained silent with a cold look in his eyes. The other high lords, except for a few who advocated war, all kept their eyes down and shrank back like quails.

"Then the meeting is adjourned."

5.1k, great, that's it!

Chapter 667 Rampage Karas

Barbarossa

"Tarrazin?"

"Trazyn!"