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

Page 595

"But I still have to marvel at your appearance. You are even more exquisite than Nurgle. Lucius, what? Without your Primarch personally applying white skin cream to your noble little face, you have aged so quickly?"

With each pause, Karas would chant rapidly, but this didn't stop him from continuing to unleash his attacks.

Lucius had completely abandoned Vox and, utterly losing his mind, charged toward Karas.

The second most powerful wizard of the Death Guard glanced at him, and in a flash of white light, Lucius's head exploded again like a watermelon.

"You should ask your master, who's too lazy to even fuck you, to give you a few more psionic shields."

Karas chuckled dismissively and gestured for Vox to go after the charging army. He said that Karas and the remaining troops were enough; Karas could beat them to a pulp.

This is the power of psionicists—it serves Mortalian right for restricting the development of Death Guard psionicists every day. When it really comes down to it, Karas rolled his eyes; it's still up to him.

"And you,"

Karas looked at the demonic calamity.

"Shalasi the Demonic Calamity, is it?"

Typhon said, as he swung his long scythe, creating countless white mists.

“You’re just a substitute,”

Karas said,

"The truly perfect Demonic Calamity has long since entered Hades's belly. You're nothing but a replica, a memory artifact casually crafted by your master. You really think you're something special? The original Demonic Calamity could at least hold its own against Hades—"

"Now……"

Karas chuckled.

"Just fight with a nobody like me, don't embarrass yourself."

Vox opened his mouth, but when he saw that the Demon Lord had also put him down, he almost flew into a rage and charged at Karas. Karas, however, gave him an impatient glance and gestured for him to hurry up and help inside.

Vox nodded and immediately ordered men to chase after Fabius and his party.

In terms of pure combat, Karas is inferior to Vox—but Karas can use psionic powers.

In this kind of setting, Karas would be far more useful than him, Vox thought.

Karas waved his hand, and raging flames immediately erupted, white flames climbing up the bodies of the drug addicts, causing them to scream in agony.

The demonic calamity charged forward with a piercing scream, at a speed completely imperceptible to the naked eye—

But Karas only took a small step to the left, and the Great Keeper of Secrets passed right by him.

Karas suddenly slammed the mistletoe in his hand behind him!

**Splash!** This was immediately followed by the demon's furious scream.

“I’m different from these people,”

Karas said, kicking Lucius, who was stunned by his psionic powers, to the ground again, and started cursing.

"I not only know how to curse you bunch of bastards, I also know a little bit about numerology and numerology, specifically in the form of prophecy."

"What kind of curse have I been living with?"

Karas cursed, his body still enveloped in ever-flowing mist. The fallen Death Guard rose again, its magic similar to the sorcery Mortarion had used in the garden. Karas, too, possessed a smattering of psychic abilities.

“Fighting against a bunch of ugly bastards, even Nurgle looks better than you.”

"besides,"

Karas clenched his fist, unleashing a burst of psionic lightning. Typhon thought it wasn't as flashy or powerful as Hades's, but it was enough to deal with the addicts.

But he knew it wasn't that simple. Slaanesh was here. Karas could figure it out with his toes (even though he no longer had the original). Because the Void Dragons had blocked Mortarion's communication with the idiots, Slaanesh took advantage of the situation to sneak in.

The Dark Prince's desires were immense, and Karas judged that the Chosen One had unleashed almost all of His power—what was He about to do?

By forcibly breaking through the veil and forcibly bestowing blessings, they will no longer need to lift a finger. Slaanesh will automatically decline and may even become weaker than Nurgle, who is currently weeping.

But no matter what… Karas thought,

"Salamu!!!"

He shouted, and almost simultaneously coughed up a mouthful of blood. He even felt himself about to kneel down, but Karas, trembling, propped himself up with the mistletoe to keep standing.

"That's powerful enough," Karas chuckled self-deprecatingly, but he wasn't afraid. That kid Mortarion had even beaten Nurgle.

Since Slaanesh is destined to unleash all his power anyway, I might as well let him expend some of it—and see if I can find a way to die.

But he wasn't brainless. Under immense psionic pressure, Karas looked around and saw that almost all the soldiers froze for a moment because of his shout.

Karas had collected historical records of the ships of the Son of the Emperor during the Great Rebellion.

Furthermore, he had wanted to curse for a long time.

"You think you'd be favored by Hades?! I swear as Hades's best friend! Hades can watch Nurgle get hard—but he won't do it to you! You're more repulsive to him than Nurgle!"

Karas cursed.

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 650 is getting increasingly chaotic!

The Death Guard has very few outstanding psionicists.

It's no secret that the Death Guardians, who are often on the front lines fighting against Chaos, resent these unstable beings. Once psionic energy becomes unstable, they become the most dangerous bombs.

Moreover, the Primarch himself refused to introduce the most commonly used psionic education system, and recruits with psionic talent would be taught numerology.

Therefore, under Mortarion's leadership, the Deathguard had a group of Undertaker think tanks, but they were rarely given critical missions, serving only as substitutes for the Soulless Army and as tools to summon the Primarch himself.

They believe in the Death Guard, but the psionicists seem less credible.

But this does not mean that there are no true psionic masters within the Death Guard.

There is one exception, an extremely special case—

Karas Typhon.

Within the Death Guard, with only numerology-based information, no one knew how he cultivated himself, and no one knew exactly how far this volatile Barbarus had progressed.

Like other psionicists, he did not actively participate in important combat missions.

Please note that before people met Karas Typhon, it was generally said that there were no outstanding psykers within the Death Guard.

And upon meeting Callas Typhon, they would say,

"Karas!!! You are the ugliest creature in the galaxy—!!!"

With a snap of his fingers, Karas sent Lucius's狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious/hideous) face exploding into a dazzling display of fireworks once more.

"Don't scream,"

The wizard wore a classic villainous smile; he was practically vomiting blood, blood gushing from his mouth, his teeth glistening with crimson.

"I'm scolding your master, you should behave yourself."

Karas felt Slaanesh's gaze upon them, and he was now absolutely certain that Slaanesh was watching him—the gaze of the false god was firmly fixed on a mortal.

This is certainly his...honor?

Unfortunately, this wasn't Callas's first time.

Karas flicked his wrist, the mistletoe in Primarch form rustling between his fingers, white flames spewing from the scythe blade, instantly covering most of the battlefield.

Mist drifted amidst the white flames, and the Death Guard remained unharmed.

"Stop thinking about that bullshit Mortalian," Karas thought, "and Hades—oh no, he's still going to disgust them."

"I know what you're thinking, Hades, Hades, Hades—but unfortunately, he never even looks at you, does he?"

Callas burst into laughter.

"You pathetic wretches!"

His free hand suddenly clenched around Lucius, who was struggling to his feet. Frost climbed onto his gauntlets, the armor creaked, and the immortal's body twisted violently in mid-air, as if crushed by an invisible pressure, before falling silent once more.

Karas took a step back, perfectly dodging the next stab from the demon. He paced leisurely within a seven-step circle, each movement perfectly avoiding the demon's enraged attack.

This further enraged the demon, and now Karas no longer needed to hurl insults at the boring little fellow.

Karas began to concentrate on casting the spell.

Under the watchful eyes of the gods, casting spells became slightly more difficult; with each mobilization of spiritual energy, countless streams of Desire Heaven's spiritual energy shrieked, attempting to force their way into Karas's body and corrupt him—

Unfortunately, Callas experienced far worse scenarios.

"Don't waste your energy,"

Karas scoffed, gripping the scythe handle and casually making a weeding motion in front of him. Suddenly, a phantom demonic calamity danced before him!

The opportunity is coming!

"Pooh!"

Karas coughed up a mouthful of phlegm in the direction in front of him.

The thick liquid struck its target squarely, and the demon shrieked in agony, its one eye hissing as a wisp of white mist rose from it.

Now that the one-eyed demon looks much better.

These idiots wouldn't understand the extent to which Karas, as a veteran of the Death Guard, had invested in his poison resistance and toxicity, not to mention—

Karas suppressed the chaotic external psychic energy that was disrupting him, but the energy grew stronger and more frenzied.

"I'm not some virgin territory, you false god!"

Callas laughed, feeling pleased, and incidentally delivered another painful death to Lucius.

"I'm someone who survived Nurgle's curse—even if I really had to choose, it would be Nurgle! After all, he's the false god that Hades so desperately wanted!"

Typhon drew out the last syllable, and he deliberately turned on the recording. The veteran had already begun to imagine whether, when the real protagonist arrived on the battlefield, he should look at his corpse and cry, or listen to this video and whip his corpse.

But he was already relaxed by then.

The Endurance seemed to let out a long, mournful cry under the immense force of Slaanesh. Karas blinked, no longer mocking. A gentle breeze rose from the water, and after a light gust, a storm swirled around him!

He didn't have a cloak to show off.

The demonic attack was temporarily suppressed. Karas steadied himself and slammed his scythe into the deck.

clang!

As a continuous stream of power flowed into the Perseverance, the corridor, which had been gradually heating up and changing color, suddenly began to cool down and turn gray!

This area is now almost entirely surrounded by Slaanesh's psychic energy, and if psychics borrow power from the vast ocean, they will only be corrupted by Slaanesh.

But until now, Karas Typhon has not drawn upon any of the power of the warp.

Death Guard's numerology researchers seem to have no influence whatsoever.

As Typhon looked up, a series of explosions, accompanied by white flames, erupted within the Slaanesh army, providing a kind of accompaniment for the noise-making warriors.

Up to now, in the face of Lucius, who has died countless times, and the demon calamity with one eye blind,

Karas had not yet suffered a decent attack, but he was bleeding profusely, the blood kept flowing and never stopped.

Within a circle with a diameter of seven steps, Karas almost completely covered the area with blood. His blood seeped in, adding a unique psychic boost to the battlefield.

He didn't radiate golden light like a typical great psychic, but Karas didn't need that. Compared to Hades and Death, who created their own backstories, he was clearly more genuine.

Karas grinned again. His stubble, which he hadn't shaved in ages, made him look like a disheveled vagrant, but it was this very vagrant who was cursing Hades here.

Unfortunately, few people can understand his sincerity and hypocrisy.

He, Callas, does have some tricks up his sleeve.

The true secret lies in the mistletoe in his hand, a weapon that Death received from the Lord of Fire Dragons, later given to Typhon by Mortarion as an anchor point for Death in the mortal realm.

But Callas added a little something extra to this mistletoe.

As for what it was... Karas took all of Aisha's tears that Mortalian didn't want, the kind that didn't need Hades' approval.

Only Karas, who had held mistletoe for a long time, knew that beneath its withered exterior, this old scythe contained a new bud!

Unlike the Primarch, unlike that lucky idiot, Karas gradually built up his confidence, but unfortunately no one ever saw it.

He doesn't need anyone to notice.

As long as there's enough to hit the people you want to hit, and enough to curse the people you want to curse, that's enough.

Karas felt Slaanesh's gaze shift slightly—were they coming back, or over there? Either way—