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

Page 572

Cecilia looked up uneasily at their destination—the cathedral on the Himalayan ridge, which resembled a withered tree branch reaching towards the sky, its gaunt shape terrifying.

"...You are fortunate, blessed by God, but also suffering. You do not have to be lambs; the flock will spontaneously drive out those with sharp teeth and claws among them."

The whispers of the cultist, along with the dim light from his scepter, pierced through the air, making Cecilia somewhat irritated. She could vaguely understand the meaning of those words—she was not welcomed by the crowd.

She is a "soulless person".

Cecilia remembers her childhood. She was born on Kazimierz, a nesting planet. As soon as she was born, her factory worker mother stuffed her into a gap in the assembly line. She cried out for the first time to the sound of machinery, a cry that was not appreciated by anyone.

Her mother didn't like her either. She was raised hastily and was thrown onto the assembly line when she was no longer able to work. When her hands were able to hold a shovel, she was sent to the most remote areas to shovel soil.

No one wanted to approach her. People looked at her with disgust and threw clods of dirt stained with sewage at her. This made her personality mature precocious. She began to consciously avoid crowds and hide in places where rodents gathered.

Perhaps she should have died young, but no one had ever taught Cecilia this concept. Most people in Hive City were mediocre, and sometimes she envied those who joined gangs; at least they seemed happier.

She thought that life would continue like this, in a corner of the city where she could never see the sky, far from people, she had no relatives, friends, and no humans willing to approach her.

—Until that day.

"Hades needs you."

A black-robed missionary of the Underworld and a person with the same physique as her appeared before her, followed by bowing and scraping Nest Managers. Cecilia stood beside the mound, shovel in hand, speechless.

Unexpectedly, they did not take her away directly. The missionary of the Underworld walked to her side—his clothes looked simple, not as luxurious as those of an important person, but unusually serious.

The missionary solemnly took out a small black notebook, which Cecilia later learned was the Holy Word of the Underworld. He began to explain something to her in a cacophony of words, but Cecilia didn't hear a single word clearly, completely immersed in immense shock.

The assembly line at birth, the blurry crowd, a shovel, and an endless mound of earth—that was her world.

She doesn't understand anything else.

All she remembered was that after the missionary finished speaking, the woman smiled and nodded at her, asking if she was willing to fight for humanity. Cecilia nodded in a daze; it was the first time someone had been willing to talk to her so much. Then she was pulled onto the spaceship.

It was a huge assembly line with many people on it. Some were friendly, some were serious, but generally speaking, they were all friendlier than the people Cecilia had met before. She saw people covered in machines and giants. She had no idea that there were so many strange and wonderful creatures in the world.

The priests, dressed in black robes, led them to bathe, change clothes, and learn. Each person had a different learning plan based on their situation. Cecilia entered Class E, the last class, to learn to read and write, and incidentally, to choose a name for herself.

Of course, before she even named herself, the first high Gothic word she was taught was "Pluto".

Hades.

The word appeared on the lips of the priests, on paper, on sculptures, on plates, on clothes—it was everywhere, as if it were the very air of this dark church.

Through her studies in exorcism, Cecilia learns that the world is corrupt, and Hades is the most "efficient" being to expel this corruption. She is the chosen one, hated by the people because she was born with fangs. She is meant to be a guardian, to drive away chaos.

But the large ship assembly line didn't teach her what "chaos" was.

This will be learned on Terra, her cult teacher said.

Terra, Cecilia thought, that word was much older... This was not something for someone as insignificant as her to consider.

In reality, Cecilia remained confused. Thinking was even more difficult for her. People who stayed away from people had not learned how to think much; they were closer to beasts than to humans.

“That’s why we started this preschool,” the missionary in front of her said calmly as he closed his book. “I know you don’t understand, but I just ask that you don’t embarrass yourself when you go to see Hades, and that you don’t let them know that I taught you.”

The missionary sighed, a hint of weariness in his eyes. He looked up at the listless Oglin, who was swinging a table in the back of the classroom.

"Soulless! Stop! Stop!!"

The missionary shouted, "If you want to get dinner, put down the student you're holding!"

Oglin ignored the missionary's words. The man sighed, waved his hand, and two silent nuns rushed over. Cecilia heard Oglin's screams.

"Oh! Oh! I surrender! Don't hit me! It hurts!"

“I really hope that education can be made more widespread,” the missionary said calmly, looking at Oglin who was being beaten. “It would save a lot of trouble, but it’s too difficult… Education can only be carried out where there are churches… Let’s leave it at that for now.”

The missionary seemed to be talking to himself. He shook his head; his neatly trimmed nails didn't suggest he was poor.

"Let's solve the food problem first... It's tough, really tough."

The missionary waved his hand, signaling Cecilia to go back, and then began to sigh deeply again.

"Go back and continue reading page two."

When Cecilia was on page seven, their ship arrived in Terra.

They first gathered on the vast, seemingly endless port, along with other people dressed in black robes. They were then shuffled and regrouped according to their size.

Cecia was very tall, so she was assigned to the last group and stayed with Oglin. While they waited and underwent medical examinations, countless missionaries from different star systems came specifically to see the missing soul.

"Holy crap, Soulless Eugrim."

Every missionary who walked by would make a comment, to the point that even those without souls learned to answer first. Before these black-robed men could speak, Oglin would say, "Holy crap, Oglin without souls."

Cecilia also saw the missionaries huddled together, joking and teasing each other. The missionary who taught her seemed to be the only one in good health among them. The rest of the teaching missionaries looked like they had been through a severe battle, so much so that they could only do light work, such as teaching.

"Oh, here comes the little guy who's been sighing and lamenting."

The missionaries clamored around the man, saying, "Hurry up and go down to the grassroots, brother—oh, you're all talk, the grassroots don't want you."

“I was thinking about the bigger picture,” the man said angrily, his red hair trailing from his neck to behind his ears. “I’m better suited for management, not the lower levels.”

The audience burst into laughter.

"Even Hades made his fortune in the fields, what are you dreaming about, kid?"

"This is the ultimate test!" shouted the missionary, who was being ridiculed by the crowd. "The King of the Underworld will be judging me personally! You all watch—I'm sure I'll be appreciated!"

Cecilia didn't hear what came after that. The line had reached her, and she was standing next to a machine that pierced a string of numbers and barcodes onto her wrist. This meant that "Cecilia" had been entered into a much larger system.

Cecilia heard that this was the result of some data-driven and information-based policy, but she didn't understand.

There were still many things she didn't understand, such as Eugen and Hades. What exactly was Hades? Cecilia thought he would be some tall, unimaginable being. The limit of her imagination was the size of Eugen, a giant dressed like a nobleman from the Nest City, wielding a scythe.

But you don't have to understand everything in life. If you don't understand something, you don't have to think about it. The missionary didn't set a goal that everyone had to understand. On the contrary, he told them that it was okay to be confused.

Now you can be oblivious.

But once you see Hades, you can't act recklessly.

The stars in the sky watched them as queues of people climbed toward the church on the ridge. The Church of the Dead did not allow vehicles to travel in the holy land, and the people moved like ants.

They arrived when Cecilia felt pain in her ankle.

On the red carpet in front of the church, the missionaries began to direct them to line up. Monks, deacons, and others from other areas, dressed in black robes, walked solemnly and hurriedly through their ranks. Under the cathedral of the Church of the Underworld, everyone subconsciously became serious, for no one should be disrespectful at the feet of the gods.

Even Oglin sensed this strange atmosphere, and Quehun'er started counting to ease his tension.

"One, one, three... I'm nervous, you big girl."

Cecilia swallowed hard. “Don’t be nervous,” she said, recalling what the missionary had said. “Don’t burp, don’t fart, act like a dead person. Dead people don’t make a sound.”

Cecilia tried to appease Oglin so much that she overlooked the subtle shift in the atmosphere, as the cult members hurrying along the red carpet stopped, stood on either side, and bowed to those who came later.

"Oh, the soulless Oglin?"

A somewhat flirtatious female voice rang out, startling Cecilia, as the people here were generally very serious. Gears clattered as a female sage appeared beside them.

"So big?"

This was said to Cecia, who stared nervously at the sage and nodded.

“Hmm,” Belinda said, “Interested in coming over here? I can take you over, and you can join me in teasing Mingzi and his gang—little one, don’t be afraid, I have connections.”

The female sage winked and smiled at Cecilia.

Before Cecilia's brain could process what was happening, another electronic voice rang out.

"Belinda, stop fooling around."

The massive body of the Great Sage King-306 approached, grabbed Belinda from beside Cecilia, and slowly walked toward the door.

"There are relationships?"

Kim said, "You've only met him once, you brat."

“But he approves of you, Father.”

"..."

Belinda said with a grin, glancing back at Cecilia, making a face, and mouthing "Don't worry."

It seems she can choose this sage?

Cecilia vaguely remembered that, after all, the woman had spoken to her first and seemed quite enthusiastic—but according to the missionary, they would choose their own destiny.

The two mechanical sages departed, and Cecilia's group began to move on. Cecilia heard the heavy breathing of the Soulless One and hoped that Oglin wouldn't burst into tears later.

They entered the Cathedral of the Church of the Underworld, a space comparable to a large square, with black teardrops hanging from its sharp dome. The space was dim, with slivers of light shining through the dark glass, the light and shadows like a black ocean lapping against their trouser legs.

The missionaries arranged for them to stand in the very center of the hall, near the front. Cecilia realized with unease that their group seemed to be in the most important position.

The crowd fell silent.

"clang--"

As the clock struck midnight, the muffled sound of the bells echoed through the silent cathedral, carried by the cold wind of the palace. Standing opposite the crowd, a bald man stepped forward from among the seven people who appeared to be of the highest rank. He looked at the various departments of the Underworld Church who had traveled from afar and began his speech.

"Cough, cough cough cough," the bald man coughed a few times.

"First of all, welcome to Terra,"

He opened his arms in welcome.

The silent crowd did not applaud him, but the atmosphere visibly relaxed.

"We all know that this is the first gathering of the Central Underworld Cult since Hades returned."

"But please rest assured, the Underworld is benevolent. Hades has fully affirmed and supported the process of our previous meeting, so your schedules for the past month have not deviated much. Let me explain briefly."

"First is the opening ceremony, which will be attended by Hades and the Pale Lord. In addition to the various departments of the Underworld Cult, the delegation of Hades' Son, the delegation of Faos, the delegation of Mars—the Gray Knight delegation, and other departments will also be present."

Cecilia sensed a commotion, not after the word "Pluto," but after the word "Grey Knight."

"Grey Knight?" "Psionicist?" "Huh?"

A low, hushed whisper began.

"Don't be impatient."

Archbishop Samuel said, frowning.

"I know there are quite a few people attending this time, but there won't be many speakers, so it won't take up your time. After the opening ceremony, those who want to visit the sights can visit the sights, those who want to prepare for their exams can prepare for their exams, and those who want to go can go wherever they want. It won't delay your work."

The crowd let out a sigh of relief, and even the missionaries' side received a few scattered claps.

"Silence!" Samuel roared. "Those clapping, put your hands down!"

The sparse applause subsided, and the bald bishop smacked his lips in satisfaction.

"In short, we did not prepare any drinks or food for this opening ceremony—but moved it to tomorrow afternoon's gathering, which means our previous opening ceremony was moved to tomorrow noon. And we are gathering tonight to celebrate the arrival of Hades."

If Hades didn't come, these bastards wouldn't give him a good look at all, Samuel thought. He looked at the trembling new recruits of the Soulless Ones, and realized that these recruits were the ones who made him proud.

The doctrine of the Underworld Cult emphasizes flexibility. Apart from those who came for promotion exams, most of the people who came this time were prominent figures in the Underworld Cult in the region. Those who have reached their positions have mostly developed their own unique understanding of how the Underworld Cult operates.

A strange phenomenon is that the higher one's status in the cult of Hades, the less one believes in Hades.

The Ming Cult does not govern local areas from a central perspective, but rather through local self-government. The central government is responsible for overall coordination and communication with local areas, as well as acting as a mascot.

That's about it,"

Samuel concluded that he had received word that Pluto, who had been glued to his desk, was finished and rushing to the cathedral, while Death Guard and the Grey Knight had arrived as well. He no longer needed to be the unpopular mascot.

"On this pilgrimage to Terra, I wish you all a steadfast commitment to your humanity and hope you have a wonderful time—but one last reminder: at the behest of Hades himself, we have included the Soulless newcomers in this gathering, and I hope you will all set an example for these future hopes."

Samuel said through gritted teeth,

"There's no need to let them 'grow up' too fast."

He finished speaking the last word and immediately slipped away, just in time for the white mist to drift in from the gate.

The once slightly noisy queue fell silent instantly. "Those opportunistic bastards," Samuel thought to himself.

Two giants stepped in, one after the other.

Mortalian breathed heavily, his wings draped over the ground like a cloak. The Cathedral of the Underworld made him feel breathless, but the Primarch felt it was necessary for him to come.

He needed to help Hades maintain a calm atmosphere. The Pale Lord knew all too well what kind of people the higher-ups of the Underworld were, but there were clearly other forces watching from the shadows at this gathering. Hades needed to keep the atmosphere serious, or perhaps he could do it for Hades.

This is also a symbol; no matter how kind Hades is to these people, the Death Guard will always be watching them from behind.

Behind him was Magnus, who "also considered himself important and wanted to help Hades, but was actually completely insignificant."

Clearly, Magnus believed that having psionicists participate in a cult gathering would be beneficial for the understanding between the soulless and the psionic, and Hades approved it.

If Mortarian hadn't been "lying" in the black coffin and refusing to come out, he would have had a good talk with Hades.