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

Page 613

"That sounds really painful."

The Endless One said,

"I'm starting to feel pessimistic too."

Hades glanced at Tarasin, but didn't detect any despair, though perhaps there was some pessimism.

"It doesn't look like it."

Tarachin made a face. "What the hell? Why are the Endless Ones' expressions so much richer than other space undead?"

"Perhaps I was born optimistic,"

The Endless One spoke in a relaxed tone.

"Actually, during the same year of my biological transformation, I was diagnosed with skin cancer. Fortunately, before I even had a chance to feel the pain, the astrologer grabbed me and threw me into the furnace."

"……Congratulations?"

Hades said somewhat hesitantly,

"Congratulations, congratulations, of course it's a happy occasion."

Tarasin said with relief.

"I've told this joke a thousand times, but only you are congratulating me, Hades."

Hades sighed heavily. The fate facing the space necromancer was cruel enough. If he were the space necromancer, he might just become a hermit or find a place to die.

But Tarasim was still able to stand up and continue to face the situation, and was even willing to cause trouble again, which makes him a hero among the undead.

Hades abruptly stopped himself from sighing and joked,

"Tarasin, you seem so relaxed... how about I increase your intensity? In the last match, your performance was 4.6 times that of the opponent, how come it was still a 50/50?"

"That--"

"Is that my problem?!"

Tarasin shouted,

"It's because Zandrek is too strong! I'm just a scholar—"

"You just need to practice more."

Hades interrupted the skill directly, and with one sentence, Tarasin turned red.

Looking at the red-skinned Tarasin, Hades suddenly remembered that there was another red-skinned fellow he had almost forgotten about.

He exchanged a few more words with Tarasim, and finally Hades signaled Tarasim to retreat first. The exhausted Endermen, after a fierce battle, threw down a curse from the Fearless and led the space undead back.

Gazing at the ravaged earth, Hades silently pulled out the red Magnus from the multidimensional space.

"I hope you don't think I'm abusing you? This happened suddenly, see for yourself—"

Hades said, tenderly untying Magnus, and pointed to the desert where the original terrain was almost unrecognizable. The Primarch's small library was still intact, like a lone boat floating on a sea of ​​tar.

【…】

What exactly happened?

"It's obvious, a war."

Hades said casually,

"Your alien friends don't seem to trust you much, so they've brought a lot of ambushes."

But they didn't attack me.

Magnus said, enunciating each word clearly.

Your arrival disrupted the balance.

"You can think so."

Hades said he had no intention of debating with a bookish person who was good at nitpicking.

"But this is the reality now. I'm giving you two choices: pack your bags and come with me. I'll go back and have your descendants help you—your oversight will be handed over to your descendants; the empire won't overstep them."

What is the second option?

“The second option is for us to have another match, then I’ll beat you down, tie you up, and hand you over to your offspring.”

This isn't a choice at all!

Magnus said somewhat angrily,

This is not fair.

"I think you want to choose the second option?"

【Do not! 】

Magnus remained noble.

I choose the first one.

"Okay, then go and get ready."

But this is still unfair.

"..."

Hades was furious, but the Primarch didn't give him a chance to persuade him by force. Even though he still condemned Hades's atrocities, Magnus dutifully went back to pack his bags.

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

not right...

Tarasin sat alone in the command room, sitting upright, but the fingers he kept fidgeting with betrayed his inner unease.

Something is definitely wrong...

Tarasin thought back to every detail of the battle with the old general.

The crowned man charged forward, followed by a perfect and impeccable slash. Tarasin dodged it with a dog roll. Zandrek seemed to pause for a moment. Was that when?

No, Tarasin thought, Zandrek was probably stunned by the Endless Ones' unique evasion technique, after all, the Crowned One was a professionally trained one.

Then came a relentless onslaught. Although Hades had enhanced Tarasin's reflexes, Zandrek, through anticipation and positioning, gradually pushed Tarasin into a corner.

But—at that very moment.

Tarasin rummaged through fragments of his mind, frame by frame, and squinted to spot that tiny fluctuation.

That was the moment!

The Endless One abruptly stood up, certain that something had happened to the Crowned One for a moment—Zandrek had aged even more, worn even more—and then came the massive uprising of the Crowned One's army!

What exactly is that?

Tarachin wondered, was it Hades? No, it wasn't Hades. Some other being had intervened in the battle, and it seemed to be there to help them for the time being.

What exactly is it?

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

"Looks like we're late."

The big-toothed guy spoke in a gruff voice, but no green-skinned guy responded. The little magpie beside him stood in surprise at the porthole, staring at their destination.

Stuart Q05

The planet, which should have been a reddish-brown expanse, was now scorching hot and scarred. Active volcanoes visible to the naked eye covered an entire continent, and towering mountains, completely contrary to geography and physics, rose from the ground and were scattered across the continent like building blocks carelessly thrown by a child.

A massive scar runs across the planet, devoid of any sign of life.

"incredible……"

Mag said slowly.

"I'm sure this isn't the power of a sage; the fluctuations in psychic energy are very weak."

"..."

"Hades?"

Big Tooth and Mag Kid exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.

"Yes...or no..."

Mag said,

"He... no... Had the King of the Underworld has cooperated with races other than humans or orcs again?"

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

Damn Tarachin.

Orikan wiped his face, and the time rift shimmered on its metallic shell.

No one knew that it had just saved the Milky Way from the Greenskin.

But—it wasn't originally there to rescue the idiot Tarahim.

Orikan sat wearily in his chair, feeling dizzy from the rapid loss of energy, while on the other side of the alien race, the Heavenly Khan stood silently, his hand resting on the White Tiger Blade at his waist.

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 663 The Prophet Angron

Barbarossa

Hades pushed open the door, looking travel-worn.

He looked up and saw Magnus and Motalian talking animatedly. Magnus was very emotional, and Ahriman, who seemed to be drunk, was hugging Karas and crying. Chiko and Karas looked like some kind of middle-aged people who had lost their way.

"..."

Hades silently closed the door.

He paused for a second, then pushed the door open again.

Mortarian and Magnus stopped at the same time, silently turning back to look at Hades, who was giving him the middle finger.

?

Where did Callas learn it from?

Hades coughed twice, and because he had some knowledge of metal molding, his armor now looked brand new—showing no sign of the fierce battle he had just gone through.

It wasn't exactly a fierce battle, but watching Tarasin's clumsy maneuvers was infuriating. Hades watched as Tarasin, with his fully geared setup, managed to hold his own against Zandrek, who had just started with his initial gear.

“I brought another Magnus with me; he’s in another dimension.”

boom!

Magnus abruptly stood up, and the Primarch's massive figure instantly made the entire space feel cramped.

[Where does his path lead—that of Magnus?!]

Magnus tensed up, his sideburns flying wildly.

"I didn't have a deep conversation with him, so I'll categorize him as..."

Hades pondered for a moment,

"Neutral good? Neutral evil?"

"unimportant,"

Hades said,

"The decision is yours; I'm just a laborer."

He didn't have a deep understanding of psionics, and these psionicists would know better than him what the product of the fusion of the two Magnus fragments would be.

A soft laugh came from Mortarian's side.

[To underestimate oneself.]

Primitive theory,

You could easily pull the Lord of Humanity off that chair and sit in it yourself... or I could.

"Your thinking is a bit too dangerous."