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

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Only a few people caught a glimpse of the Thunder Eagle formation flashing across the horizon.

But everyone felt this sense of powerlessness. After seven seconds of emergency avoidance, people lay peacefully on the ground, clearly realizing that Hades had set foot on this land.

When you lie down, your face in close contact with the earth, feeling the surge of weakness and nausea, and your stomach churning from time to time, you will know that Hades is near you.

This is Hades, your instincts tell you, and it can only be Hades.

The doctrines of the Dark Cult had never been so clear and easy to understand; the words were not deliberate metaphors, but rather realistic descriptions.

People remained conscious, but were unable to do anything.

At 5:05 a.m. on the first day, from the time Hades descended until He appeared in His true form to the world, and the world vaguely awoke from the earth, a total of 5:05 a.m. and 1 day had passed.

Hades stepped from the depths of the palace toward the high platform, followed by a hunched old man hidden in the shadows.

Consciousness gradually returned... Muscles twitched, and people stood up, some bewildered, some terrified, and some devout.

The gangsters who had fought had long since been beheaded by the Space Marines. The surviving civilians emerged from their homes, bewildered, gazing towards the highest peak of the Himalayas, where, besides the biting wind, stood a deity.

"I'm back,"

Hades said,

"Humanity will eventually rise again."

“And,” Hades said, “the High Lords, get out here and see me. Don’t try anything funny. I’ll give you a day.”

Hades squinted and saw the doors of the Cathedral of the Underworld suddenly burst open, and a bald man scrambled out and knelt down, the Death Guards behind him unable to catch up with him.

Yay, it's gone!

Chapter 612 Makado's Table

They may already be dead.

It was all because of the overwhelming rage of the Underworld.

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High Admiral of the Imperial Navy, Pope of the Divine Emperor State Religion, Representative of the Underworld Cult's Market Team, Grand Administrator of the Imperial Ministry of the Interior, Commander of the Astral Army, Representative of the Inquisition, Chief Justice...

And then there's Kirkland-584, the current acting forging general of [Mars], who just stepped off the battlefield, his robes scorched.

The once arrogant high lords, some cowering and others standing tall, stood together in front of the tightly closed restaurant doors.

The Imperial Guards and the Silent Sisters stood in formation on both sides of the corridor, but guarding the gate were two Ultra Warriors.

Samuel swallowed instinctively. The old man straightened his back, hoping to die with as much dignity as possible.

A silence.

Why won't you let us in?

Samuel muttered to himself as he nudged the white-robed, gold-trimmed Archbishop Meslin beside him. The two archbishops were of similar age, but the Archbishop of the State had well-maintained, long white hair and a white beard.

Meslin coughed and silently moved away from Samuel.

“Everyone is not here yet.”

An electronic voice sounded, and the mechanical sage, seemingly hastily assembled, stammered, his mechanical body bowing slightly in pleasure as he extended a hand towards Samuel.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Samuel. I am the newly appointed Forging General, and we will serve Hades together from now on."

Samuel thought to himself, "A religious madman," but that might mean he wouldn't die anytime soon. Samuel put on a smile and let Kirkland squeeze his hands, making a cracking sound.

"Not everyone's here yet?" he said casually. "It's the Star Language Institute, the Navigator, and the Star Torch Institute—"

Heavy footsteps echoed from the other side of the corridor, passing over layers of dark curtains. The blood still wet on the helmet boots was licked by the carpet. A brand-new, gleaming silver plate was covered with a round silver lid, and deep red blood seeped from the gaps between the lid and the plate.

The sweet, pungent smell of blood wafted into their nostrils.

Booz and Black walked over, each carrying a silver platter. Behind them, the Imperial Guards roughly dragged a pale-faced man who was almost completely incapacitated, bleeding from his seven orifices, with empty pupils.

Samuel recognized the living person as Sek, the presiding officer of the Starlight House.

"We've all arrived."

In the deathly silence, Kirkland said lightly, "I can't wait to offer my loyalty and the spoils of war to my lord."

Samuel's modified hearing allowed him to hear the cracking of bones, and some of his former colleagues and political enemies—the high lords—began to tremble.

They were all men with blood on their hands, who had faced countless life-or-death moments, but seeing someone of equal power fall from grace and die without any dignity was a different kind of shock.

They didn't die in the life-or-death political struggles, but were casually and easily erased from history...

They can accept death, but they cannot accept that their once overwhelming power is nothing more than something that can be easily crushed by other beings.

Samuel felt his heart pounding, not from fear of death, but because he had truly witnessed a miracle. These insects… before, many people had died just to trip them up, but now…

The blood dripped down and was quickly absorbed by the carpet.

There will be no warp echoes; the scene is so simple.

"Good evening, everyone."

Booz said casually, his use of High Gothic language and etiquette was impeccable. He walked to the front of the High Lords' procession, holding a silver tray in his left hand.

"I am Booz Bella, son of Hades and former regent of the empire—in Hades' name, I welcome you all to this banquet."

Kirkland bowed slightly, and no one else moved except Samuel. The door slowly opened...

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"Old Ma," Hades muttered under his breath, "isn't choosing a restaurant a bit strange?"

"I am trying to salvage an image that never existed, you ghost."

"Don't be merciful to the executioners—your idea of ​​equality is too deeply ingrained, you dead soul," Makado said calmly.

Hades sighed; he didn't want to make such a fuss about eating.

"You should believe me, Old Ma."

"Then you should understand me—I want to do this."

"It's a bit of my morbid humor," Makado said. "I've put up with these ignorant mortals for too long."

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……dark.

Samuel strained to open his eyes, tears of life welling up, but all he could see was darkness.

Booz gestured for them to proceed, but no one moved. Kirkland was no longer in a hurry, and the Mechanical Sage watched the High Lords with amusement.

Samuel took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he made a prayer gesture, “Praise be to Hades.” He steeled himself and stepped into the darkness, the radiance above him not diminishing the darkness in the slightest.

The Astral Army lord commander followed him; he was the second high lord to enter the dining hall.

The other high lords entered in turn.

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The hall was shrouded in darkness, with a lonely green light burning on the long table, reflecting on the silver plates and successfully killing any appetite.

The main seat was pitch black; the candlelight could not penetrate the absolute darkness. The high lords kept their eyes down, staring timidly at the plates in front of them.

It's very cold here.

Samuel shrank back; he sat second to Hades' right, next to the Imperial Regent, Buzz Bella.

The sound of the stool scraping against the ground could be heard intermittently; it was the nervous twitching of the abbot of Xingju Academy, who looked like he was about to faint.

Opposite and beside him were two empty seats. The silver plate that Mingzi had been holding was now placed in front of the empty seats, with drops of blood seeping through the tablecloth.

Even a fool could guess what's inside.

"Hello, everyone."

A calm, aged voice rang out, and a young, blurry face stepped out from the long table at the other end of the Hades. Samuel caught a glimpse of the Home Office Director's wide-open eyes and mouth—he recognized the brat; he was William, one of the Home Office Director's subordinates.

At this moment, William's red hair was a dull gray.

"It's been a day, and I think you're all getting impatient."

William said, dismissively ignoring the Home Secretary's shocked and wide-eyed gaze, "Then without further ado, let's serve the food."

First came the appetizers.

The son of Hades, hidden in the darkness, emerged and served "appetizers" to the seated high lords.

Samuel felt cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

A folded piece of paper lay quietly on the plate; the size of the paper placed in front of each lord was different.

"Please."

William said that Samuel shakily reached out, picked up the paper, and opened it... Inside were some "little things" he had done before.

He seemed to hear the Director-General of the Interior unconsciously gagging.

"Well... it's alright," Samuel consoled himself, trying to convince himself that his paper wasn't that big compared to others—hopefully Hades used the same font size.

"The second course."

William said, clapping his hands, "The second course is soup, which is something that can be 'drunk,' but it's not exactly a delicacy."

Inside the white porcelain bowl, the pungent-smelling white corn soup resembled an eye, staring intently at them.

"From the homeland of Hades, a specialty of Barbarossa, with a special wine made by the Grim Reaper added to enhance its unique flavor—the amount of wine added to each bowl varies depending on individual preference."

William said that at the other end of the long table, a pair of hands silently stretched out, followed by a pale, stone-carved face, which was illuminated in the dim light.

Cold and unapproachable, yet great and sacred.

Hades picked up the silver spoon and naturally began to drink the soup in front of him. Anyone could tell that the soup in front of Hades was the most "deadly" bowl.

The host had already started, and amidst the cold light of the candles, the pressure seemed to grip everyone's soul, making it hard for them to breathe. In this atmosphere, everyone knew what to do, yet hesitated to pick up the silver spoon.

Booth and Kirkland picked up spoons and began to drink the soup as if it were water.

Samuel swallowed hard, picked up his spoon, and the good news was that the followers of the Underworld were often familiar with the Pale Lord's beverages. For someone of his rank, who was required to drink them at every event, he wasn't worried about that.

Seeing Samuel start eating, some of the other high lords exchanged glances, while others picked up their spoons without hesitation.

As the poisonous soup entered his throat, Samuel felt his tongue festering, then his esophagus. The toxins eroded him from the inside out, like the whisper of death.

His vision began to blur, and the room seemed to brighten. He saw the layout of the dimly lit restaurant, with a Mona Lisa hanging on the main wall, gazing down at them.

Samuel heard violent coughing and vomiting. The Director of the Interior seemed to have vomited, splattering the tablecloth in front of him. He struggled, clutching his chest, and collapsed into his own vomit.

Not only the Director-General of the Interior, but also representatives from the shopping malls and the court collapsed in agony. The others, to varying degrees, clutched their throats and whimpered in pain.

The Astral Army Commander and the State Archbishop were the most similar to Samuel in their behavior, except that they were pale and had their lips tightly pursed.

Hades ignored them; his bowl was already empty. As if urging for the food to be served, Hades looked at William across from him.

"Side dish: The deaths of two psionicists."

William said, "Anwar, the academy's director, and Hillard, the navigator's family representative."

The blood-soaked silver lid was opened, and two human heads stared unblinkingly at the people present.

Some people, however, could only convulse under the influence of the poisonous soup.

“The good news is,” William continued, “that our competent Starlight Academy abbot, Seck, remains dutiful and has not crossed the line—I think the psionicist is in his position and…”

“You don’t need to be so busy,”

Hades, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly spoke, and everyone's gaze instantly shifted from William; they stared at Hades with fear and unease.

“Macado…we should trust the wisdom of future generations; individual abilities are ultimately limited.”

Makado smiled.

"Good good."

“I was too impatient,” Macado said. “Then let’s serve the main course.”

William walked up behind the Home Secretary, who was staring in pain.

"The deaths of the three high lords."

Makado calmly said that he grabbed the high stool and knocked the Director-General of the Interior to the ground. The stool hit the ground with a dull thud, and the Director-General howled, spitting out semi-jelly-like blood. He was then dragged into the darkness by something lurking in the darkness.