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

Page 611

The metal creaked as it was slowly twisted, and the silver-gray rod burst open, as if a giant hand of pitch-black liquid from a different dimension was flowing out from the gaps in the metal.

Keep pushing, keep pushing.

Pitch blackness hissed out from every gap, meandering and waving towards the distance. The supercube was deforming, and its reactor emitted ominous popping sounds as a series of small chain explosions erupted within it.

No, the Void Dragon's liquid metal is under control, but the abilities from the Nightwalkers and Deceivers are still effective.

The dazzling bright orange explosion signaled the end of this Hypercube.

call……

The River Styx surged, and something slowly emerged from its depths, black liquid flowing down and over Hades' armor.

Hades stood up and looked around as the metal shell melted into the earth.

To his surprise, the war was already over.

The gray sky was now empty. The swarms of aircraft that had been dogfighting among the clouds had vanished. The hideous fragments of the Star God were imprisoned in a hypercube that had been hastily smashed onto the ground. The army stood silently, no longer moving.

Tarahin lost?

This was Hades' first thought, but since the army did not attack him, Tarasim at least did not lose.

Thinking about this, Hades found it both amusing and exasperating; Tarasin was truly a novice in martial arts.

I've maxed out all the specs, and it still manages to go toe-to-toe with the opponent.

He looked up and saw Tarachin standing blankly atop a mountain made of the wrecked bodies of space necromancers, looking as if he had just survived a fierce battle.

Even though the space necromancer's metallic body was slowly healing, the damage and dents were still conspicuous.

At Tarasin's feet was Obi-Long's upper body, which was tightly gripping the silent old general.

?

Hades had a question mark in his mind. At the same time he saw Tarasim, Tarasim also saw Hades. Tarasim opened his mouth, stared blankly for a moment, and then suddenly swung his staff.

"We won! We won!"

"Come here quickly, Hades!"

"coming!"

Hades took off and teleported through the metal ruins. Before leaving, Hades took a special look at the lower half of Wang Wei Obi-Long that had landed on his side.

A long drag mark extended from near Wang Wei's lower body all the way to the mountain peak where Tarasin stood.

Did this guy crawl over there?

Hades thought for a moment, and then space tore open, revealing him standing beside Tarasin, holding a silver scythe.

"What's going on?"

Hades looked at the Crowned One and Obi-Long at Tarasin's feet. To his surprise, the Personality Matrix inside the two space necromancers' bodies was still working, which meant that they were not "dead".

Tarasin opened his mouth again, seemingly a little confused himself.

"Zandreik has just gone mad."

The Endless One said,

"It marked everything on the field as an enemy and began to attack indiscriminately. Its army started killing each other as a result, and its turrets even aimed at itself—you should have seen what happened just now, I recorded it."

"so?"

Tarasin spread his hands.

"I won—alongside its guard, Obi-Long. Should I be thankful that our lucid Mr. Obi-Long didn't directly take orders from it?"

A series of metallic clicks rang out as bright green sparks flashed from the severed upper body of Obi-Dragon. Hades was astonished that, despite the extent of the damage, this royal guard still retained his will.

"The lord did not give me any orders."

It said hoarsely,

“I believe this is its order to me, hoping I will stop it—the adult must be having a memory lapse, thinking it is still in the military academy in Sotek.”

"?"

Hades didn't quite understand, but fortunately Taracin quickly added more details.

"Some military academies make their students fight each other, even if they are nobles."

Obi-Long nodded.

"...In any case, thank you for not continuing to kick me when I'm down. Your war with the lord can continue after this, or we can pay you a ransom—I swear we will prepare these soon—or I can sell my territory and pay you double the ransom."

"But please—don't spread this around."

How do you know I'm not planning to kick someone when they're down?

Obi-Long made no mention of their reasons for starting the war, seemingly wanting Tara-Sin to let them go.

Tarasin muttered to himself, after all, Obi-Long had put in a lot of effort to subdue Zandrek.

Taracin bowed, seemingly wanting to utter some harsh words, but the Space Overlord saw Wang Wei's exhaustion and suddenly felt a sense of emotion.

Tarasin waved his hand.

"Forget it, don't spread what happened here."

This puzzled Obi-Dragon. In its view, this was just a normal war between royal families, something they had dealt with many times before.

But it also nodded silently.

What will you do next?

Hades suddenly asked, and Obi-Long glanced at him cautiously. Hades sensed the space necromancer's disgust towards him.

This is much better than the psionicists' disdainful attitude towards him.

Obi-Long hesitated for a moment.

"I will instruct the technicians in the palace to look after you and let you rest for a while."

Do you think this will be useful?

Tarasin suddenly asked, looking at the sleeping Zandrek, who was sleeping soundly—though the radio waves were weak.

"You just clamped it down... I guess Zandreek has done this more than once?"

Obi-Long froze, then nodded heavily.

"The lord has never made a mistake on the battlefield before,"

It said hesitantly,

"Even if it mistakes other races for its own kind, refuses to accept its current body, pretends it can still eat, ignores assassins within ten paces, issues strange commands and meaningless chants, disregards assassinations by other lords, and makes useless disguises, it—"

Obi-Dragon made a series of clicking sounds, as if it wanted to take a deep breath, but its metal body could only produce a series of ear-piercing clicking sounds.

"But it always remembers me, trusts me, and—never makes a mistake in the war."

"But it made a mistake this time."

Tarasin said that the plight of its kind seemed to evoke its sympathy, and the Endless One crouched down, looking Obi-Dragon in the eye.

"Zandreuk the Crowned One has made a mistake in this war."

Obi-Long fell silent. For the first time, Hades sensed despair in the space necromancer, and he even felt a part of the Nightbringer within his own body become excited.

Hades remained silent, suppressing his emotions, and continued to serve as a backdrop for Tarachin.

As a result of misfortune, he seems to be able to perceive other people's emotions more keenly, although it's not very useful.

"You probably know better than I what those who wear the crown will face afterward."

Tarasin said that it believed it was forcing Obi-Long to choose it, but for some reason, it always felt a stinging pain somewhere in its body, which was pitiful, extremely pitiful for a fear of death.

It is also pathetic that a compassionate ruler cannot command an army.

The arcs of electricity crackled at the cross-section of Obi-Dragon's body; it was perfectly aware of this—

The Storm King ignored Zandreuk's madness and rudeness because the Crowned One had never lost a game.

Meanwhile, the nobles below Zandrek, the crowned general, were all eyeing him covetously. They watched as the old general went mad, pacing around him like a hungry tiger, waiting for Zandrek to make a mistake so they could pull him down from his high position and tear him to pieces.

Obi-long lowered its head and stared at its master. A good royal guard should not have its own thoughts and be ready to die for its master at any time, but Zandrek deliberately cultivated its autonomy, taught it how to fight, and sometimes even handed over the command of the war to it.

Although Obi-Rong's first time commanding a war burned away much of its memories.

Obi-Long suddenly realized that perhaps the Crowned One had long anticipated this day, which was why it had handed over command to it and to Obi-Long.

Wang Wei felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

It is utterly inadequate; it lacks Zandreuk's war talent—the Crowned Ones are second to none in war prowess—and it also lacks Zandreuk's decisiveness and intuition. It cannot.

Their fate is nothing more than to perish in self-destruction, becoming "the isolated," and then abandoned by the Storm King.

The remaining madmen rose to power by stepping on their corpses, and although the race had no future, they were still obsessed with endless wars, infighting and expansion.

Obi-Long recalled how, in his prime, he had told Zandrek that he was enjoying the immortal war.

It wanted to cry but had no tears; that was just self-deception. Space necromancers were never favored by immortals, and they too were wearing down.

Without the bio-transformation ritual, Obi-Dragon realized it should have died on some battlefield long ago.

Or perhaps the old general will take pity on it and let it go back. Obi-Long will then be granted a territory based on its military achievements. It can choose to be a minor lord, form a family with another healthy and strong Fear of Death, raise several children, one of whom will inherit its position. It will personally send it to the battlefield, and then it will spend its short twenty-odd years of life before finally dying from the torment of multiple concurrent cancers.

but now……

Obi-Long looked around blankly. The hot wind that would have charred the skin of a carbon-based creature was nothing more than a warm breeze to its naked body. It collapsed on the corpse of its kin who should have died long ago, and in its arms was Zandrek, who was slowly dying.

The biotransformation ritual is another, more protracted and cruel form of cancer, like the last breath of a dying person, stretched infinitely to its limit—

But you know it will die sooner or later; nothing is eternal.

"what can I do?"

The electronically simulated sounds were intermittent; without a special module, the Space Necromancer couldn't even produce a relatively vivid sound.

What else can I do?

Obi-Long asked,

"I am but a commoner who rose to power through luck and the favor of a lord. I was bestowed with the best equipment, and I successfully thwarted 3,765 assassination attempts for the lord—countless Death Seal soldiers died under my command, and I successfully protected the Crowned Lord countless times. I have been obedient and loyal—but—but—but—"

"but……"

Obi-Long lowered his head.

“But what else can I do? Perhaps death is a good ending, but I cannot make decisions for the crowned one. The crowned one will not choose death—it would rather go mad than accept reality. And I cannot die prematurely; that would be incompetent.”

Silence fell, broken only by the sound of the wind mixed with the roar of the star god.

"Perhaps I can think of a way."

Tarasin spoke heavily.

“I have a star god here who is willing to cooperate with me—if you want to stop a rushing river, you need to find its source.”

Tarachin looked at Hades, and Obi-Ron also looked at him warily. Hades blinked and opened his arms.

"I will follow your arrangements, but I have a question."

"You said."

"Obi-Long said hoarsely."

Hades remains true to its original aspiration.

Why have you come to see Magnus?

he asked.

"..."

"According to the inhabitants of nearby star systems, there is a kind and benevolent alien sage here."

Obi-Long said,

“Ever since our last argument with another crowned person, the adult has been trying to comfort me—it wants to save me from the illusion that we are ‘metallic creations,’ and it thinks I’m too stressed.”

Obi-Long paused.

"But actually, I also wanted to ask him if there were any ways to recover the data, the personality, or slow down the wear and tear."

Did he give you an answer?