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

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Motalian persisted; he knew what he had to do, and he persisted in speaking out.

"Suspend the state religion, Saint Gilles," he said firmly. "It's too late. He needs power—but these powers are too mixed; no one can remain true to themselves in the face of such mixed forces."

As he spoke, Mortarion saw the golden star dim, a fact confirmed by the revelation he received from the warp, and he and his Deathguard would become the main force to stop it.

The more resolute he became, the dimmer the planet grew.

Beside Mortalian, Saint Gilles stopped, the smile vanishing from his lips. The archangel looked solemnly at this…blasphemous… ugly being, and spread his hands.

"Motalian," Saint Gilles asked, disappointed, "must we discuss this now? And—why?"

【why? 】

Saint Gilles said that Mortalian opened his eyes wide and saw a creation of pure white feathers, with golden rings encircling its wings, and countless eyes staring unblinkingly at him from within those wings.

Mortarian remained silent for a moment.

"Stop," Mortarian said in his most sincere voice, "Sanguielles, didn't you notice something was wrong? That feeling of being attacked?"

Saint Gilles simply shook his head, looking at Mortalian with a firm yet somewhat pitying gaze, then glancing back at the astonished Gilliman and Angron.

"I don't," said Sanguielles, "Motalian...you're probably just too tired."

..............................

Broke up unhappily.

Before the humming shuttle, Mortalian looked back one last time and saw Saint Gilles completely corrupted. But why was Saint Gilles in a normal state? Why hadn't his mind and personality been corrupted?

Mortarian was in pain. Was he really all alone?

No—it absolutely cannot be like that.

The Pale Lord reaffirmed his conviction, looking sadly at Angron and Guilliman behind Saint Gilles' wings. Angron's old wounds had not yet healed, while Guilliman...

Mortarian opened his eyes, and in a daze, he seemed to see something.

what is that?

No... we can't let other trivial matters distract us now.

Mortarian boarded the shuttle. Since words couldn't persuade them, he would use the scythe.

Humanity cannot be destroyed.

Chapter 622 Motalian: I'm Back, I'm Working Overtime

【That's it. 】

Mortarian said wearily that the long-standing past had left him exhausted and in pain... Hades had taught him to communicate with words first, and only resort to force if that failed.

But over the years, Mortarian has come to believe more and more in the importance of striking first.

If you can kill with one blow, don't waste your breath.

Hades didn't reply. Mortarian looked up in surprise and saw Hades, who was serious and silent.

When Hades saw Mortarian looking at him, he blinked.

"……Thanks for your hard work."

Hades said that perhaps Mortarion's words were problematic, but considering the Pale Lord's state at the time... he shouldn't have been so harsh on the Death Lord.

Mortarian spread his hands. "It's all in the past."

"They at least..." The Pale Lord paused for a moment, "I don't want to gloat over their misfortune; after all, Angron and Guilliman have helped me a lot—but in this matter, they have indeed received their punishment."

"At least..." He shifted his gaze to the relief sculpture of the God Emperor and the King of the Underworld on the wall. "The outcome was good."

Motalian then added another sentence,

Do you find these things offensive, Hades?

Hades laughed. "I'm a pragmatist. As long as it works, that's enough."

[...Did you feel unwell because of this?]

"Nothing is as disgusting as a Star God saying something to me," Hades chuckled. "Don't worry, if I really lose control, I'll just go and destroy Chaos."

Mortarian smiled too.

"Then I will go and kill the remaining three."

? !

"Wait?!" Hades shouted, "Three???"

Mortarian coughed up white mist,

【emperor.】

He said, "Macado has fallen; the sacred number five occupies the first position."

He stared at Hades as if frozen in place, his face a fascinating mix of emotions, a mixture of confusion and uncertainty.

Finally, Hades's gaze wandered, and he chuckled awkwardly.

"I do feel like Old Ma is acting a bit strange, but it hasn't gotten to that point yet?"

Mortarian slowly straightened up, looking solemnly at Hades. The Pale Lord suddenly realized something was amiss.

Macardo... Macardo... Hades had brought up Macardo himself before, and it was his full name. Hades mentioned Macardo more often than he mentioned Guilliman!

However, Hades continued speaking.

“Macado, I remember he once made me believe in him, and…” Hades’ voice trailed off, “If it weren’t for Macado, I might have been deceived by the fraudsters.”

Motalian remained silent, simply staring at Hades. There were two possibilities… either Hades was truly foolish, or…

You shouldn't have trusted him.

Mortarian said, uttering words he had repeated a thousand times: "No being can retain its self under the corrupting influence of the warp's forces."

At the same time, white mist spread rapidly, filling the entire space not shrouded in darkness, and then he discovered—

The monitors and listening devices were completely different models and operated on completely different principles. There were a total of 556, but 555 of them were destroyed by Hades's Dark Domain and Star God Lightning.

Without hesitation, Mortarian shut down the last monitor.

Hades, standing before him, gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry,” Hades said, “he’s too eager to gain my trust, he’s too cautious.”

Mortarian narrowed his eyes, staring at Hades in front of him.

“I’m trying to remind you,” Hades said, glancing at the last monitor, “that he’s keeping a close eye on me. I haven’t even had a chance to be alone with the Lord of Man. He has eyes and ears everywhere.”

Mortarion was silent for a moment.

In the end, he just sighed and collapsed again.

I'm so glad I didn't actually carry you away just now.

"So you really can carry me?"

The white mist surrounding Hades transformed into a Grim Reaper wielding a scythe, preparing to strike Hades directly. Hades abruptly recoiled.

"Fine, fine, I won't let you carry me anymore!"

Aren't you worried that I might reveal some important information?

"I believe you can understand what I mean before that."

Hades said seriously, "Didn't you notice that the little scythe on your sofa was pointing at that monitor? I... I thought you had noticed it back then. I'm just handing the decision over to you."

A long plume of mist billowed from Mortarian's mask, instantly dispelling the negative emotions that had just arisen.

The Primarch wiped his face; he hadn't felt speechless in a long time.

What else could he say to a psionic Muggle?

Let's not place any expectations on our mutual understanding.

"Next time you try this trick on Karas," Mortalian said, "he understands these things better than I do."

Hades showed a look of great disappointment.

"Then how did you figure out what I was hinting at?"

Because you're generally not that stupid.

Motalian said calmly, "Macardo has a problem; you and I can both see it."

He is currently the empire's biggest problem.

Where...where was he exposed?

“Caliban,” Hades said frankly, “I believe that Macado has concealed the three sacred artifacts from me, and his attitude toward the lion is also worth considering.”

[The Three Sacred Artifacts?]

Mortarian asked, "What is that?"

"The technology of some ancient race, the Ouroboros, the Heart of Plague, and the Tuchucha Engine, combined together, can excavate the Web."

Hades truthfully stated that the descriptions of these three artifacts in the original work were actually too vague. They seemed to have the function of traveling through time, but... it was not clear.

Motari settled in for a while.

"That's the lion's business," the Primarch said cautiously. "The Emperor's fondness for collecting treasures might just be one of his hobbies."

"Or perhaps..." Motalian said, "we can leave this to Robert Guilliman."

Hades sat up straight.

"So...where exactly are the former rulers of the five hundred worlds?"

Mortarian smiled. "I think he really suffered a lot, but—he deserved it."

"No..." Mortarian said, "This is necessary training. Since he hasn't been discovered by the Emperor for so long, I think we can trust him."

..............................

This is a remote, marginal world where a small number of uncivilized humans have built a civilization. They have built dirty and noisy markets, established city-states, and driven the poor into slums.

Wizards still hold an important place on this planet, offering divination for those in power and warding off evil and bringing good fortune.

The ravens cawed.

A giant clad in a plain robe emerged from a dark corner of the slums. He had already removed his crown, and his steps were light, leaving frost on the rugged ground with each step.

He turned left, went straight, and then turned right, and he noticed the faint raven eye on the wall.

The white-haired giant chanted a spell, then placed his hand, which had once been accustomed to wielding swords and pens, on the wall. A corner of the wall peeked out, and he took the note.

He took a different route back to his temporary lodging. Along the way, people encountered him, but they acted as if they couldn't see him.

The cramped, shabby room was crammed with books, a blazing candle, strangely colored liquids, an astrological instrument, rulers and compasses, and parchment.

This is a period of rigorous self-cultivation.

If you want to completely defeat it and prevent it from ever recovering, then you must be more patient, more cunning, and more shrewd than it.

The final blow kills.

Killieman unfolded the note, dripped his own blood onto it, and the words appeared.

+Prepare for revenge. +

It says this on it.

The Primarch looked up and saw a map of the Empire hanging on the wall, its edges blackened by parchment, with a small dot moving around.

The lion is about to be discovered.

as well as……

He is back.

The action is gone.

..............................

The light from the Star God's lightning crackled and popped in the room.

I can contact him.