bookbashuk Page 584
Page 584
"Oh my god!" Tarachin innocently raised his hand. "He needs to grow up. He keeps complaining of being hungry in my museum. What can I do?!"
"I didn't shout!"
"You shouted! You've disrupted the static state of my collection at least four times! Do you know how time-consuming and laborious it is to recapture them?!"
【…】
“So the key point is willpower,” the space necromancer pointed to his head. “The willpower of the physical world… is completely indescribable… We also have no way to judge the extent of his willpower through the subspace, and naturally we have no way to judge whether Hades can continue to devour.”
“Perhaps I can completely shatter the original will of the Star God fragment before devouring it,” Hades said, “and then eat it.”
He understood. It was a case of big fish eating small fish, and eating them made you stronger. If all else failed... you could carry one with you like the Burner, and in a moment of crisis, you could use it to instantly become stronger, just like taking a drug.
However... Hades isn't in a hurry right now, because in terms of individual strength, he's already capable of going up against Chaos, so there's no need for him to take any more risks.
“It’s up to you,” Tarasin said, spreading his hands, then paused. “But I can help.”
The Necromancer glanced at the Primarch, who seemed lost in thought. It was time.
Tarachin looked at Hades.
Since the one who fears death is truly beyond redemption... Tarasin felt a pang of sadness... then... then let it be...
It no longer wishes to submit to the King of Silence.
In fact, this free will has long been unwilling to bow to any authority.
It was precisely the rigid class structure of those who feared death that ultimately led to their tragedy.
Tarachin asked itself, could it possibly bow to a king who had led its entire race to destruction? Would it be happy to see the remains of its people continue to carry out foolish orders?
Compared to the Silent King, how is Tarasin inferior?! It's just that the bed where they were born was slightly different hundreds of thousands of years ago.
Since our ultimate fate is destruction, why not make our lives more comfortable?
"Hades, since I'm going to have to clean up your mess no matter what... then... how about we talk about some new cooperation?"
........................
small theater:
The Primarch remained silent for a moment, then walked somewhat guiltily into Karas's private lounge. The room had a somewhat dated feel to it, with a slightly large bed, a desk, and a workbench.
Hanging on the wall were talismans written and drawn by Karas himself, and neatly arranged on the desk were books on politics and psychic powers. Mortalian also saw a photo of Karas and Grugol together. The second company commander from ten thousand years ago had long since sacrificed himself.
The Primarch crouched down, tapped the third drawer of the desk with his bony fingers, and the lock, covered in curses, fell open. He opened the drawer and took out a diary.
The Death Guard has a penchant for writing, not only Karas, but also Vox.
Mortalian knew that Karas had always kept a diary, and Karas allowed the Primarch to read it, but Mortalian always felt there was no need to read it, and later... Karas locked the diary.
He carefully opened the diary, which was filled with curses and extremely vulgar language. Mortarian even saw the words Karas used to insult him.
But that wasn't his purpose for coming. Squatting beside the number line, Mortarian quickly flipped through it, and finally, he found it—
"shit.
It was a huge, rolling, tentacled pile of shit, but what ultimately made me vomit wasn't that, but the stupid voices that came out of it.
Lord of mankind, is it too late for me to convert to your faith? But I have already sold my soul to a fly willing to work with shit, God—shit and flies are so intimately connected, what am I then?
"
Mortarian felt a little angry and looked back at his wings.
“He is more annoying than politics, more stinky than a toilet, and more bloated than ‘that bastard.’ Sometimes I hate that I am still alive and have psychic gifts—no one should suffer like this. I would rather drink from the rivers in the garden.”
"That idiot seems to be overworked lately, which is a good thing. I'm already celebrating."
“…Karas, if you keep taking on more work for yourself, I’ll look down on you.”
"Idiot, I've said it again and again, stop trying to talk to me, stop radiating your bright, noble, kind, and warm personality charm—I know you're just greeting me out of your damn healthy, disgusting personality. You could put that energy into someone else, instead of a pathetic person who can't even die."
Actually—I'm perfectly fine, the only problem is that my willpower is entirely focused on preventing myself from vomiting—rather than reporting it to you.
If I leave this place, I will recover quickly, as refreshed as a tuberculosis patient breathing fresh air for the first time—now that I am committing suicide beneath the statue of the Lord of Mankind, will I be able to reunite with Gara?
"Sometimes I envy that kid Vox's complete lack of talent."
“The original body has been in poor condition lately, it’s time to remind him to stay away from poop.”
"How could I have been so foolish as to hang out with them?"
"Maybe that's why I'm destined to fail, to be a huge failure."
Mortarion slowly closed the book, the Primarch feeling it necessary to check on the mental state of his most capable lieutenant.
Even though he was still very angry.
5.2k, great! That's all!
Chapter 641 It Decides to Rebel
【past】
Temporary Museum outside the Tarachin River
Tarasin swung its legs, which were propped up on the table, its eyes fixed straight ahead—where it was now pitch black, pure darkness, with faint flashes of lightning emanating from the clouds.
……
Hmm… Tarasin put a finger to his head. Had he gone too far? Even if he had promised Hades, he had promised the Empire, and he had even teased a Primarch—
But even the wealthy Tarachin felt his purse was starting to feel strained from feeding Hades so much.
Disregarding the three fragments fed to Hades, Talasi now has five Star God fragments left—it can't be fed any more. If the Emperor comes and asks it for support, and it can't produce any Star God fragments, then it's doomed.
Ok……
Tarasin pondered, beginning to search for new details in the mental engine of his mind. Perhaps it was time to start capturing the Star God fragments again... Maybe Hades would need to eat a few more.
Tarasin's thoughts were momentarily dazed. It felt that its actions were somewhat wrong, but watching those Star God fragments completely disappear into the darkness... completely disappear... the Endless One had to admit that there was a little ulterior motive in throwing the Deceitful One's fragments.
It truly despises the fragments of fraudsters.
Even if it saw that fragment—
Taracin sat up abruptly, keenly aware that the museum's gravity had shifted slightly, and time itself seemed to vibrate.
—Eurican?
The Endless One immediately stood up, brandishing its weapon. It cautiously peered between the display cases, searching for any movement.
"Eurican?!"
----------
【now】
[At the foot of the Himalayas]
"Time is precise and perfect—but you are playing with time."
Orikan said that golden light shone down on it, coating the space necromancer's dark gray shell with a shimmering gold.
This was not initiated by us.
Euricane closed its eyes, then slowly opened its large single eye, its gaze seemingly reflecting the river of time.
“But you kept your promise,” it said, “and hoped to win.”
"greedy."
Astrologers commented, "Absurd, incomprehensible—arrogant."
You can understand it that way.
The figure said, "Then, Star Master of the alien race, are you willing to keep the appointment?"
Eurycan frowned. He had misspoken; it was not "ruler" but "diviner"—but he knew what He was talking about—the promise was already contained in the question.
Euricen pretended not to understand.
What are you willing to offer?
"Eurican asked."
The Lord of Humanity paused briefly.
I can only promise you the Tuchucha engine at this time.
A glint flashed in Eurican's eyes, and the Necromancer's engine began to operate violently. The Tuchucha Engine? That was the technology of the Ancient Ones, completely beyond the comprehension of all living beings, transcending physics and the subspace, a true means of time travel.
The device consisting of the Tuchucha Engine, Ouroboros, and the Heart of Plague will be even larger... These apes won't understand its true purpose; they'll only know that it can dig web tunnels.
No...it's not just that.
Orican felt its engine begin to hum, and it was certain that it was truly tempted; the Tuchucha engine alone was enough to entice it.
The Tuchucha engine is one of the few remaining technologies that are still intact and have undergone significant changes from the past.
If it possessed the Tuchucha engine… Euricane knew, “Astrologer”? No, no, no, it would become “Star Master”.
But why did the Lord of Mankind only promise the Tuchucha Engine?
It remained silent for a moment, but it was aware of the infamy of the Lord of Mankind.
The emperor was not a man of integrity; his credibility, like Tarachin's morality, was nonexistent.
How can you guarantee that?
Eurican raised an eyebrow, making his voice sound malicious. "Your Excellency, we've all heard some unpleasant rumors..."
+My friend who traverses time,+The Emperor lowered his eyes, concealing the golden light within. The space warriors, whom He had already instructed, were traversing the underground palace.
+When you arrived here, I believe you had already made your choice.
+……+
The Emperor knew that Orikan also had his own abilities. The astrologer proposed this time to meet. At this moment, the stars shrouding Terra were dim and scattered, temporarily avoiding the gaze of the Warp.
Moreover, the Lord of Humanity slowly raised his eyes, gazing thoughtfully into the distance, his gaze piercing through the Milky Way, as if he were witnessing a farce unfolding on the other side.
+The Milky Way is vast, and our choices include more than just you, astrologer.+
Eurycan's eyes widened abruptly, almost instinctively, the astrologer's mind conjuring up that damned bastard—
Tower—Tarasin?!
----------
【now】
【Chanshan】
"I get eight, you get two."
Tarachin leaned his upper body closer to Hades, and the space necromancer grinned, making a two with his hand.
"The troops that come out, I get eight and you get two."
Opposite him stood Hades, his face contorted in a frown and a distorted expression. Tarasin's face was reflected in Hades's dark eyes.
"You're being a bit too greedy,"
Hades said, "So, I get six and you get four."
Tarasin abruptly stepped back, waving his hands, "Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
The space necromancer cried out, "Hades! Hades! Remember how I fed you with a Star God and a Star God back then, and even took you on the run—is this how you repay your benefactor?! The first thing you do when you have free time is to shove dirt on my head?!"
The Endless One let out an extremely human-like wail, which Hades suspected was a skill it had learned from the oil enthusiast, capable of producing a crying scene without any emotion or vocal cords.
"Split in half!"
Hades shouted, "We can't go any lower! We'll cover the bulk of it—personnel losses and material losses, it's just a matter of you saying a few words."
“You’re a technician!” Tarachin shouted. “Don’t you know how much your silver tongue is worth?! You wouldn’t have come to this tomb without me. All I did was intellectual labor, and I’m paid for it!”
"Split in half!"
Hades shouted, "It can't be any less! I have to report back to my men—Tarachin—have pity on me!"
Beside them, Mortarion silently pushed the small Death Guard that had come out to check the situation back into the white mist.
Tarachin knew perfectly well what Hades was thinking—a 50/50 split meant Hades wouldn't allow the Endless Ones' power to threaten them, but that was impossible!