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

Page 551

“The Death Guard and Hades’ son will also help,” Hades said. “Don’t worry, old man, with me here, they won’t do anything reckless.”

Macardo breathed heavily, while the Emperor skipped over his own question and looked at Hades with approval.

"I'm afraid it's you who'll do something reckless."

Makado said,

“You and Neos keep an eye on things for me too,” Hades said. “Don’t you have me too? Old Ma, I’m just worried it’ll be too tiring for you to manage alone.”

Makado sneered.

"Listen to you."

Hades smiled, looked at Neos, and spoke, glancing at the Magnus Stone at Hades's waist.

"It's alright, I'm tired, Hades. The rest is up to you... and the Primarchs... at your beck and call."

Hades' smile turned into a bitter one.

“The Primarch?” he said. “We don’t have any now, except for me and Old Horse. Where are we going to get cattle and horses to drive?... Maybe we should just get Guilliman—”

Macado stretched out his hand, and a scepter of just the right size grew out.

“Guilliman needs a rest,” Makado said. “Ghost…I sometimes wonder if you were a Macurag in your past life.”

Hades smiled.

“Barbarus,” he said, “still cannot forget its roots.”

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Motalian, still in the garden, sneezed.

【…】

Is this what sneezing feels like?

----------

[Cough...cough...vomit—]

The gaunt ghost, clinging to the blood-stained ground, struggled to its feet, its pale hand grabbing a long pearl chain and tossing it aside along with its black hair.

[That unpredictable old man...]

Koz bared his teeth, revealing bony fangs, and looked at the dead fallen angel before him...

This is no ordinary Space Marine; he is more than twice the size of a regular Space Marine, and his reflexes and strength far surpass those of his kind… It will take a lot of effort to capture such a fallen angel.

Koz raised his hand, licking the dried blood from his wrist, and let down the diamond bracelet that had bled the Primarch's wrist... The old man wasn't in a hurry at all... Otherwise, He wouldn't have interrupted Koz's interrogation time, causing the Primarch to miss some information.

Koz stepped forward, tore open the flesh with his hands, and prepared to physically extract the memory.

The fallen angel's crudely pieced-together black armor still bore the indelible dark spirit race patterns, and strange growths burst forth from it, like an inhuman curse.

The lion still hadn't given up on his plan. That stubborn "filial son," in the name of the false emperor, retrieved the Tongtian gene from beneath the Himalayas, only to bring shame upon himself by being corrupted by the beings on Caliban.

Blood trickled from the corner of Koz's mouth. He smiled. What did ten thousand years of perseverance amount to? They were nothing more than toys for the higher-dimensional beings and the narratives of the upper levels.

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A pristine white tablecloth covered the long table, and the silver cutlery gleamed. Hades sat at the head of the table, awaiting the meal.

Opposite him, however, was still Macado, swirling the wine.

"Karl?"

Hades turned his head, and Kirkland's voice came through the communication channel, with booming explosions in the background. Hades hoped that the sages who had been torn apart on Mars hadn't brought out their general cannons.

The sages of the Underworld received news that the Great Sage Kaul had led the Eighth Underworld to surrender, and that they would arrive in the Solar System about seven Terra days later.

boom!

Another deafening explosion erupted in the background. Hades frowned as he listened to Kirkland's tirade across the street, while simultaneously discussing matters with the Sage.

“…No rush,” Hades said. “Once the application is approved, let Caul come over first.”

He sighed. "Alright... academic discussion, Kirkland."

Hades turned off the communication and sniffed the air.

Kaur...

Hades pondered that the army could indeed be upgraded.

In the original timeline, the Great Sage Belisarius Caul, in the name of Guilliman, developed the Primitive Space Marines, and when Guilliman awoke, he pulled out a bunch of Primitive Marines from a mysterious corner.

The Proto-Forged are stronger, bigger, and better than the average Space Marine—yet they are also ostracized by the average Space Marine.

In fact, the only way to upgrade Space Marines is through the original forging of Caul. In the original story, Corax accepted the Emperor's name and obtained the Supergenome from beneath the dungeon, thus establishing the Super Ravenguard.

It is more powerful than the original casting.

【Super Ravenguard】, true war machines, possessing strength and agility far surpassing Space Marines, with a highly efficient maturation time, and even greater loyalty and rationality…

But Alpha, who had infiltrated the Ravenguards, intervened, contaminating their genome and causing severe mutations in these Super Ravenguards. Primarch Corax was forced to personally eliminate these offspring.

This also severely affected the Primarch's mind. Unable to accept personally annihilating his offspring, the Primarch ultimately chose to enter the Warp, vowing to kill the leader of the Great Rebellion, Loka.

As for now...

Hades pondered, then held up his knife, watching his face reflected in its silvery blade.

Corax was the founder of the Inquisition, while the Ravenguard and the Midnight Lord, who nominally wiped out the entire party, were both affiliated with the Inquisition.

Did the Corax in this timeline also receive that genome and create the Super Raven Guardians? But if they did, why did it leave no trace?

Corax is not one of those bizarre Primarchs. In this timeline where the Ravenguard is doing well, Hades believes that if the Primarchs obtained that genome, they would have left behind documentation.

So... what if it wasn't Kolax who got that genome, but someone else?

Why didn't the Emperor tell him just now? Was it unnecessary, or...?

"Don't want to eat?"

Macado's voice interrupted Hades, who was startled and looked past the knife at Macado, who was tasting wine across from him.

“Well,” Hades said honestly, “Old Ma, I’m not feeling very hungry.”

He watched as Macado's expression crumbled.

"You no longer like these foods?"

Macado wore a forced smile, still engrossed in his anger over the Blue Mountains and Blue Sea.

Perhaps Ultraman Blue and Hades Black are even more effective counters to him than Imperial Gold.

"Do you prefer a purer form of energy?"

“Is it just empty talk?” Hades suddenly said. “How could you slander me like that? Old Ma, I just…”

His words slowed, tinged with resentment: "I don't want to eat in front of you; I have a psychological aversion to it."

Makado paused for a moment, then his smile became more genuine, and he laughed.

"So you don't want to eat anymore?"

“Eat,” Hades said decisively. “It is not gentlemanly to refuse a free meal. Whether there is food or not, take a bite—but don’t look at me, or I will call you Old Yellow Head.”

“Wait a minute—” Makado suddenly said, “What did you call the Emperor? Old Yellow Head??? Okay, okay—!”

Makado laughed so hard he almost fell over. Even the Lord of Humanity had met his end! This was perhaps the most relaxed and joyful moment he'd had in a while.

Hades looked at Makado and laughed, bewildered. Then Makado stopped laughing and looked at Hades with a serious expression.

"Dead soul, promise me you won't call him Neos anymore."

“Please call him—” Macado laughed, “Old Yellow Head.”

He decisively ignored the rage emanating from the black, golden sun within the underground palace beneath his feet.

He was really happy.

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When do you think He will come out?

Archbishop Samuel of the Church of the Underworld stood on the shoulder armor of the Death Guard, peering out through the detection port for a while. His smooth forehead reflected the bright white light from the Himalayas.

"Well,"

Seeing that there was still no movement outside, Samuel shook his head and shrank back inside, patting the Death Guard to tell him to leave.

"It doesn't matter anymore, but those nonsense doctrines actually say it's true: when Hades descends, all things perish. That's true, that's for sure."

Internal strife, factional wars, backstabbing—when Hades arrives, he'll knock them all out with a single, dizzying knockout.

Samuel was still unsure whether they were dead or simply unconscious.

This is why Hades has the right not to talk to them beforehand; it's a pure case of overwhelming them with his superiority. The gods simply don't care about their petty schemes.

Samuel liked this approach: to cut through the mess quickly and decisively.

Getting entangled with these powerful and wealthy people will only drag you into an endless cesspool with their words and schemes. Take Samuel, for example. He went from desperate screams covered in excrement to swimming in the cesspool and throwing shit at anyone he didn't like. It only took him about a week to get used to it.

The war is now largely over, Samuel thought, without a doubt.

When Hades descended to earth, he first met with the God Emperor. After the two gods finished their discussion, they realized that once Hades emerged, he would be unstoppable, killing any god or Buddha in his way.

Samuel walked to the front of the map and watched the small dots move on it.

At least for now, the only individuals still moving, besides the few who are still hiding in the deepest secret chamber of the Cathedral of the Underworld, are the Space Marines falling like dumplings from the sky and the Imperial Fist on the ground.

Ultramarines, World Eaters, and Imperial Fists are taking control of key structures on Terra, while the Son of Hades is purging the insectoids. Samuel is relieved that his political rivals will die before him.

But—but!

Samuel thought angrily, "If Hades has come, why aren't his men coming to find him?"

Have you forgotten about them?!

How could this be?! Although he and some others often skip early classes, there are also devout believers in their cathedral, and they are not all scoundrels.

There's also the possibility that their strategic position is relatively peripheral—but that's unnecessary! There's no need to concern ourselves with it now!

Samuel's bald head turned red. How could Hades do this?

—Never mind, it's none of his business.

Samuel immediately lost his temper. Perhaps he should admit that, as a later religion, the Church of the Underworld did indeed have a somewhat marginal status.

The archbishop mentally reviewed his dying wishes once more.

Forty-nine wills have been delivered to his wife, lover, and children by reliable Silent Guardians; the nomination list for the next Archbishop of the Underworld has been written; all the Underworld's documents have been categorized and backed up; and the list of Underworld forces in various regions has been prepared and is ready to be viewed.

The Necropolis's strength on Terra has been preserved to the maximum extent possible: the Silent Guard composed of Soulless Ones, the Penitentiary composed of Necropolis combat bishops, and Space Marines sent by the Fourteenth Legion and other Death Guard chapters to learn and provide support...

His head and neck were washed too.

Samuel hummed a little tune as he walked past the unconscious Grand Steward of the Interior. The High Lord was still fantasizing about how to play a political game; it was all for naught.

One entity can instantly paralyze all human resources, unless it's those Martian sages unleashing their Abomination Intelligence, nothing else will work.

Everyone has witnessed Hades's power. For the nobles and dignitaries on Terra, the next step is to see who can kneel down faster and lick the ground better!

Let whoever wants to lick him! Samuel's bald head was still red with anger at Hades's absence. Anyway, the doctrine said that he, Samuel, would not kneel!

Even if Hades himself came, I wouldn't kneel!

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On that day, humanity witnessed the divine.

This made many people realize that the real gods might be somewhat different from what they imagined.

There was no towering giant descending to earth, soaring straight into the sky; no rolling sea of ​​black clouds stretching for thousands of miles; no earth-shattering collapses, no thunderous roars and tsunamis, nothing, nothing...

Some are just...

Can't move.

Like a gentle breeze or sunlight falling on the earth, it is not some unnatural or strange existence—it is as simple as a law that exists naturally.

Rather than the imagined gods, he wielded a golden, flaming sword to stab the ugly, pus-filled black monster.

The true Hades is closer to the laws of nature.

More abstract, more macroscopic.