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

Page 587

But this is Barbarossa, the place furthest from dreams.

No, it's not that Barbarosians don't dream—it's just that everything here is rigorous, down-to-earth, prioritizes the basics, and has little entertainment.

Even though the primary use of this land remains food production, and it can indeed provide some military supplies, here, all interpersonal relationships have been altered by something ancient and solemn. People have adapted to a militarized lifestyle and to less entertainment.

Isha was silent for a moment. The bells of the distant Church of the Underworld rang out, and white birds flew across the sky. She touched her braids and pressed down the corn seedlings in front of her.

A slender black cross stands out from the towering cornfield; it is the grave of the fallen. Every child from Barbarossa is sent back to their hometown after death, and in remembrance, a black cross is erected in their hometown.

But it is not a single cross that represents one deceased person—it is a cross that represents all the deceased within a 49-kilometer radius of it.

Otherwise, Barbarossa would have been covered in crosses long ago.

A few butterflies still lingered on the cross. They were rare native species in Barbalus after the torrential rain. Pale and broken, they had little beauty, but were beloved by the people of Barbalus.

Isha lowered her sickle. She hadn't come here to plant crops; that work had long been handed over to large machines. These people lurking in the fields were "hunting."

There are some animals on Barbarossa that eat crops and are also quite aggressive. The Death Guard did not eliminate them, but instead used them as a way to train people.

The girl lowered her moss-green eyes, wiped her blood-stained hands on her linen apron, and touched the bag at her waist, which was bulging and filled with a small round bone from the skull of a jujube pig.

In Barbarossa, you can exchange certain animal bones for money, supplies, a good gun—and even gain favor with the Legion.

The pouch at Isha's waist was enough to draw the attention of the Death Guard.

But she didn't care much about that, because her grades at the Pass Military Academy were good enough that she had already become a recommended candidate for the academy. She could choose to become the Death Guard's auxiliary commander of the Netherhounds, or the Undead Cavalry (which allows her to control knights, but this depends on her talent), or she could choose to join the Netherworld Cult (but this would mean leaving the Death Guard path).

Of course, the above are the three main and conventional paths, which are also the common choices of the Barbarus people—men will choose to be candidates for the legion, while women will choose cavalry, hound commander, political commissar, maintenance, etc.

In addition, the Death Guard offers exchange opportunities with the Ultramarines, allowing you to apply to continue your studies in the 500 Worlds.

Or perhaps you want to become a "child of the dead".

The term "Child of the Dead" originated from Hades' solitary life on Barbarossa. It later evolved into a tradition: if you are unusual enough, unconventional, enjoy solitude, and are exceptional enough, you can apply to become a "Child of the Dead".

Death Guard will provide you with a mediocre ship, some funds, and a sufficiently large map of the galaxy.

Then you can just get lost.

The Milky Way stretches endlessly; it's time to make a name for ourselves.

The Church of the Dead provides food, lodging, and some assistance to the Children of the Dead. After the initial seven years, the Children of the Dead are also allowed to set foot on Barbaros again.

Over the millennia, many opportunists have emerged from among the children of the dead. Some later converted to the Underworld Cult and became a unique new force among its leaders, while others became excellent traveling merchants and wandering warriors. The rest... most of them disappeared forever into the vast Milky Way.

Perhaps one day, in some corner of the galaxy, a hero uncovers an enemy's plot and saves a planet—or even an entire empire. If he speaks with a Barbarus accent, don't be surprised.

Ishaan's aunt then chose to become a child of the dead. In Ishaan's memory, her aunt seemed to eventually become a pirate.

Of course, the Death Guard won't care at all as long as it's not the Death Guard or its minions that are being robbed.

The embers of the bells dissipated in the sea of ​​corn, and as dusk fell, the sun burned on the horizon, its edges glowing red.

Isha felt her heart pounding.

Today is [Heroes and Couples Day].

This is to commemorate the festival ten thousand years ago, when the Death Guard master craftsman Pasteur and his lover, the sage Nandin, were wiped out in a battle against the Greenskins on Greiel's important subsidiary hive planet, during which the Death Guard's Third Company, Sixth Squad and its attached technical squad were completely destroyed.

At the last moment, Master Foundry Pasteur and his companion, the sage Nandel, decided to detonate the antimatter engine in the hive to slow down the Greenskins' attack and buy time for the Death Guard reinforcements.

Because they did not have the highest key, the two had to go to the site to carry out the operation. The last image they left for people was Pasteur standing in front of the door, covered in blood, while Nantinger jumped into the reaction pool to complete the final explosion.

After the war was won, Pasteur's apprentice went to collect Pasteur's belongings and found a diary among a pile of books.

This diary details the story of Pasteur and Nantinel, from their first meeting when they borrowed Pluto's Mars Notebook, to the "accidental" transfer of the female sage to Pasteur's combat squad, where they fought together.

Undoubtedly, Pasteur's students called the emotions he expressed in this diary "unrequited love," "unrequited love with great revolutionary friendship."

The Death Guard subsequently discovered a similar diary in the sage Nightingale's remaining data, which described how the female sage developed feelings for Pasteur and tried to get herself transferred to Pasteur's combat squad.

However, according to insiders, the two probably never told each other about their feelings for each other, but fought side by side to the very end in the name of protecting humanity.

One was so dull-witted that he didn't understand his own feelings, while the other was timid enough.

But it doesn't matter, since they were eventually buried together.

In the culture of the Death Guard and Barbarossa, death is both the most vividly depicted and the most understatedly mentioned aspect.

This seemed to erase all previous regrets and dissatisfaction.

In any case, people later established "Heroes and Couples Day" to commemorate them—firstly to praise their achievements, and secondly to subtly warn the new generation—especially the Barbarians, who are known for their silence and reserve—that they should express their feelings as soon as possible.

However, reality is cruel. The "Heroes' Couples Day" is approaching the "Conscription Month," and as the sun sets on Heroes' Couples Day, the Conscription Month begins.

Subsequently, countless organizations, including the Death Guard, the Hounds of the Underworld, the Cult of the Underworld, and the Mechanical Guardians, will begin recruiting in Barbaros.

Many young people, having just expressed their feelings, immediately part ways with their lovers and embark on unfamiliar battlefields.

There may be other implications, or it may just be a coincidence, but in any case, life goes on.

On the night of Heroes' Couples, people light grand bonfires, but they do not sing, dance, or gather. They simply light a cluster of flames around the black cross—there is no curfew tonight, so let the spirits of heroes protect those young people about to embark on their journeys, and light a ray of light for them in the darkness.

The young people would find their own places, and each region had its own customs, which the adults did not interfere with.

Isha hurriedly ate at a nearby church dedicated to the Church of the Underworld. The last rays of the sun had set, and the earth grew gloomy. In the distance, on the hazy, flickering horizon, *crack, crack, crack*—

The flames leaped up.

The firelight illuminated the girl's young face, clearly showing her long eyelashes and freckles. She felt flustered yet excited.

She hurried out of the Church of the Underworld. Pairs of figures were already emerging from the darkness, whispered instructions and murmurs drifting through the fields. In the distance, the cold gleam of the armor of the Death Guards on duty could be seen—since there was no curfew, there would be people on guard to ensure safety.

Some people will also go out of their way to stand guard on this day. Some will simply offer them a handful of corn seedlings, while others will be looking for their departed family members. Those who come to stand guard are often new recruits. The person looking for someone may be a mother, a father, or a lover.

Isha thought for a moment, then strode toward a place they both knew well. She ran through cornfields, through woods, and through the academy's training range until she finally arrived there and saw him.

Before that vast lake.

The moon's shadow is faint and pale, rippling across a vast expanse of white light.

She took a deep breath, calming her breath after the long cross-country run.

“Hey,” Isha grinned awkwardly, tugging at her shirt. Her apron had been taken off, washed, and returned to the priest, revealing her training pants and well-tied leg wraps.

She walked over and sat down skillfully next to the young man.

The young man, like her, had a face full of freckles, and his deep blue eyes were particularly dark and melancholic. However, he did not look at her, but stared blankly at the lake.

Isha sat down cross-legged and swayed her body.

"The moon is so beautiful tonight... tonight."

She said, inwardly cursing herself for her stupid opening remarks, and hurriedly tried to make amends.

"I've made up my mind,"

She said, "I plan to join the cavalry, I want to ride a knight - I've asked Sage0567 about it, I might have a talent for it."

A faint smile appeared on the young man's lips; he seemed to have come back to life.

“That’s a good thing,” he said hesitantly. “I’m happy for you, from the bottom of my heart, Isha.”

"A knight is far more important than a warrior on the battlefield."

He said he casually plucked a blade of grass from the ground.

“No,” Isha said, “every soldier has value—we cannot underestimate them.”

Is this what you wanted?

Alu said, seemingly distracted, "Does everyone have value?"

“Yes,” Isha replied firmly, “every soldier has a purpose, even an auxiliary soldier can put a bullet into the enemy’s head.”

This did not seem to be the answer the young man wanted to hear. Alu turned his head and looked at Isha seriously, then turned back and sighed deeply.

Isha didn't notice much; she just felt her face flush. The young man's serious gaze was enough to make her blush—even though she didn't feel this nervous when defusing bombs.

Could this be a conspiracy by Chaos?

Isha thought for a moment, then quickly prayed silently to Hades for protection. The campfire of the black cross in the distance flickered, making her feel weak, but Isha was also certain that this was not a conspiracy of Chaos.

She simply loves him.

Isha's fingers gripped and dug at the grass on the ground.

"You..." she drawled, "Where are you planning to go, Alu?"

Alu's grades at military school were not good—in fact, they were terrible. But in Barbarossa, military school was compulsory education. After that, people could choose to study other things, but between the ages of three and sixteen, you had to go to military school. As a Barbarossa resident, you had to at least learn how to drive a Hellhound.

The young man did not answer, but only looked even more dejected.

Silence, broken only by the chirping of insects.

Isha felt nervous during the unspoken silence. After thinking for a moment, she decided to follow her heart. She took off the hunting bag she had prepared beforehand from her waist. It was full of bones.

The number of bones that would make a person notice the Death Guard.

“Ah—Alu,” Isha said, closing her eyes and shoving the bag she was holding into his hand, knocking the young man to the ground. He fell onto the grass behind him, then struggled to sit up with a gasp.

"I like you—and—this is for you!"

"Do you want to become a Death Guardian? Or a Knight? Or a Bishop of the Underworld? It's all up to you, take it!"

Alu's eyes widened in surprise, but he smiled helplessly, even though the smile on his lips was genuine.

“I—I didn’t mean that, Isha.”

He said gently, “I mean… no… that’s not what I meant.”

The young man was silent for a moment, then spoke as if he had made up his mind.

“I like you too, and that feeling is absolutely sincere—but—but not everyone has to become a Death Guard, a Knight, or a Bishop…”

"Do you wish to be the child of the dead?"

Isha suddenly looked up, her eyes flashing as she stared at the young man.

"No—no, no, no, that's not it."

The young man, on the contrary, became flustered. "I just—I mean—"

“I—I just want to stay in Barbarossa and be a farmer.”

Isha opened her mouth wide in bewilderment.

A sense of sadness welled up in Alu. In Barbalus, staying put was perhaps the most pathetic thing to do. Some of the people in Barbalus were retired hounds—others were those who had “not been chosen for anything.”

Alu sighed deeply.

"Do you understand? — Or do you want to take back what you just said?"

The young man calmly raised an eyebrow and asked,

“You must stay in Barbarossa—this—this—”

Isha smiled. "Then I can come back to see you often."

……

The bushes behind them rustled. Karas, who had come to recruit soldiers and decided to wander around aimlessly, stood up, feeling awkward. He shook the bottle in his hand and realized that he had come here to have some peace and quiet, but had been disturbed by the young couple.

He had originally wanted to hear more—but now, Callas gagged.

Look, anyone he picks is smarter than him. Why didn't he stay in Barbarossa and be a farmer?

With that thought in mind, Karas took another sip of his drink and staggered along the forest path.

Hmm... Barbalus was such a horrible place back then, who knew it would become such a livable place now.

Karas burped. He wasn't exactly stupid back then... He slowly thought about how hard life had been... He really did think he'd rather die than go back to this planet.

A campfire burned in the distance, and Karas knew that in a few days, that idiot would be back to run wild.

So many people—Karas thought drunkenly, so many people—enough for a whole planet's ten thousand years—this guy still did something quite remarkable.

At least now he can listen to the little things chattering about something that doesn't even exist.

Happy Valentine's Day!

But I think most of those still reading this today are single people.

It's okay, even on Valentine's Day, this poor author has to keep writing. All I have is a keyboard for company.

That's it! Yay!