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

Page 509

Fugen blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering. [It seemed he had failed.]

Conrad chuckled dryly. [A lose-lose situation. He chose the wrong god. The first to perish won't be 7. Why cling to an "eternal" god?]

"Foolish," Fugen said, "or perhaps there's another motive."

"Let's wait and see what he has in store," Conrad said casually, scooping up some kind of liquid with one hand—a thick, greenish liquid that made a small popping sound, waagh.

The Primarch braced himself against the armrest, rose slightly, and splashed the liquid onto the chessboard.

The Emperor wouldn't want the Pale Lord to join forces with monsters; the most suitable place for the Pale Lord is the garden. He's too rebellious and too radical.

Fugen said he picked up a piece, of exotic style, and placed it in the garden.

Upon hearing this, Conrad frowned imperceptibly, causing the various jewels on his body to sparkle even more.

"That was His scheme," Coates said. "Since He didn't instruct us, we'll continue to watch this farce unfold."

Moreover, He was also observing this farce performed by the Lord of Death—even if the Lord of Death failed, this act of killing a god would provide Him with considerable inspiration.

I reckon the emperor will start to take the alien gods seriously; perhaps he'll try to control the greenskins. Given his personality, it's not impossible...

Fugen remained silent, giving Conrad a cold glance.

[You didn't tell us... Did you find the lion?]

Conrad's lips twitched a few times.

"He's not in a hurry to question us," Conrad said, "His mind is probably entirely on the garden and the monster."

Fugen shook his head helplessly.

"We're about to accelerate," Fugen said, staring at Conrad, who raised his chin and remained silent.

After a long silence, Fugen sighed, and listlessly picked up the chess pieces.

Next up is Octarius, a typical Apocalypse-level battlefield.

He placed the Bonecrusher's pieces on the board; the battle itself wasn't particularly noteworthy.

Although there may be other things hidden within this,

"I'm actually looking forward to Faos's debut," Conrad suddenly laughed, tapping his temple with his fingers. "I remember them, the ones measuring bullets, right?"

Conrad chuckled. "He learned his lesson the hard way. He underestimated those 'oil guys.' Did his experience helping the Lord of Man deceive them make him careless?"

The jewels on Conrad's body became even more dazzling. Fugen stared at Conrad nervously and silently as he watched the long pearl necklace Conrad wore begin to grow, with each pearl producing a lustrous sheen.

The Lord of the Night stopped speaking, pursed his lips in displeasure, then picked up the chess pieces of Hades' Son and Phaeus and put them down.

"[Stingy.]" Conrad commented, casually lifting those long chains. They were nothing more than chains strung together with jewels, a cruel and insulting act for the Lord of the Night.

"You should put down your sarcastic remarks about Him," Fugen said aptly, pushing the star-god-like chess piece to the dark side.

"Since He is now the emperor," Conrad said sarcastically, "then I am His courtier."

Fugen leaned back slightly, calmly to avoid getting blood on him, while opposite him, Conrad made a gurgling sound as if his throat had been slit.

Large, pristine white pearls were stained with blood, and dazzling diamonds were soaked in blood. The jewels adorning the Lord of the Night constricted him, squeezed him, and embedded themselves deeply into his flesh. Yellowish-white fat was squeezed out, filling the gaps between the full pearl chains. The sound of bones breaking rang out as gold, like blunt knives, embedded itself within.

Conrad struggled subconsciously for a small amount, but something held him back, pinning him to the spot, preventing him from ever breaking free.

After a long while, Fugen silently sat up straight, staring at Conrad, who was messily arranging the jewelry. Conrad was coughing up blood as he struggled to rearrange the gold and silver jewelry.

【……mean.】

Conrad said hoarsely,

"You've touched a nerve," Fugen said. "You know perfectly well that He used to call me that..."

Self-praise.

I don't deserve it, do I?

Conrad sarcastically remarked, "You and I are merely one of His fancy toys; He never expects anything from us. I am just a toy He uses for his amusement."

Fugen's eyes were as calm as still water.

So what kind of ending are you hoping for, Conrad?

Conrad was suddenly speechless. He fell silent, a rare occurrence for him. The dripping blood on the jewels gradually faded, absorbed by the greedy treasures, making the gold and silver shine even brighter.

After a long silence, Conrad said something in a muffled tone.

【All right. 】

He picked up the chess piece symbolizing Hades—it could hardly be called a chess piece, but rather an industrial waste, like slag from smelting, without any order or shape, shimmering with different luster.

Let's see how the monster performs.

Conrad placed Hades into the boundless expanse of greenskins, while the Terrans, who were almost overflowing the chessboard, stood against the Greenskin Empire.

The chessboard couldn't even contain the size of the Tyranids; Leviathan was expanding and evolving at a terrifying speed.

Perhaps the Chaos should thank Tyran for not being interested in the warp.

[...a fierce battle.]

Conrad said in a low voice, staring thoughtfully at Hades.

This is the being He desires to recruit—but can He truly seduce him?

Fugen's gaze, however, darted subtly over the cheater's pieces.

"He will always try," Fugen said cautiously, "but which time will it be?"

【…】

Conrad was silent for a moment, then a hissing sound rang out, like a curse.

All of this is predicated on the fact that it can actually defeat Tyronn—but I'm not optimistic about it...

As if to accommodate the sheer size of the swarm, the chessboard stretched out laboriously, exposing the endless Terran forces to their sight.

This is no small amount.

The two Primarchs looked at each other in bewilderment.

Then, Conrad laughed incredulously.

The farce He desired, before it even began, was destined to perish among the swarm of insects.

The forces that had been locked in combat for thousands of years found their cleverness pale and powerless in the face of a true visitor from beyond the river.

All the calculations seem to have overlooked one fact: an elephant in the room. They stubbornly remained in their own game until the elephant appeared before them with a snort.

That is to say, the size of this Terran fleet is really large.

So big that it's unimaginable.

At this moment, the two Primarchs suddenly realized where the monster's most pressing crisis truly came from.

And what will the galaxy face if the monster fails?

------------

Euclius

This will be a tough battle.

It requires a lot of sacrifice.

In the largest, tallest, and most magnificent building on the planet Hades, Hades stood in the supreme command room, staring solemnly at the star map before him.

The building's exterior resembles a giant, overturned green structure, or perhaps a massive garbage dump.

On the head of the big green skin, countless antennas were erected, and the Mag Kids stood below the antennas to keep up with the battlefield situation and transmit information.

But he couldn't be the only one in command. Knowing that the Greenskin Empire operated around a core, Tyrion deliberately stretched out the battle lines.

The long and arduous front of prediction stretched out, almost covering one side of this emerging empire.

Based on the frequency of Licarte's movements, Hades estimated that Tyron was about to launch an attack.

Licarta, a kind of Terran vanguard, will appear on the planets that the Terrans choose to attack.

But there's another possibility: Tyrion is playing him. In any case, Hades is prepared for Tyrion to be playing him.

He divided the Greenskin Empire into seven parts, and the army into seven groups. Each group had a commanding Greenskin Warlord, who was the leader of Group Two of the Five Departments.

Beneath the seven great green-skinned warlords, there also exist countless green-skinned warbosses. Hades rigorously examined them to ensure that each warboss possessed extraordinary skills and unique abilities.

This is to ensure victory in every small battle; in addition, it will also reduce Tyrande's efficiency.

The Tyranids liked to evolve and produce specific armies to counter their enemies, so Hades let them evolve to their heart's content.

Once the Tyranids form a specific army, the greenskin armies in each district will be immediately replaced.

Thanks to Magnus and Magkid, and the tech department, the Greenskins' mobility has been greatly improved, and all their ships have been painted red.

But that wasn't the main point. Next to a massive map that took up an entire wall of the room, Hades paced slowly.

He had to lure the Tyranids deep into the Empire, which meant there had to be defeats and military losses, and it had to be so realistic that the Tyranids would believe it—but not so realistic that Hades' plan would actually fail.

One wrong move and you could lose everything.

Hades felt a rare sense of pressure. Compared to the previous minor skirmishes, the Tyren were more numerous and evolved faster than he had imagined. They were a perfect race for expansion.

If this force were released, the human empire might face annihilation.

Now, without losing a single soldier of the human empire, Hades will lead the Greenskin Empire to severely damage, or even wipe out, this Terran force through deception.

"drop--"

A piercing alarm sounded, and Hades looked up to see a small, glowing green dot turn red—this meant the Tyranids had begun their operation.

"Beep be ...

Alarms rained down incessantly, their crimson hues flashing rapidly across Hades' armor, the red lines twisting and tearing the massive map apart in an instant.

Even within the Greenskin Empire, dense red dots have appeared.

coming.

--------

The deep Milky Way is cold and devoid of warmth; distant stars blink, falling to the far side, gazing at this end.

The swarm of insects is moving.

More numerous than the stars, colder than the Milky Way, they came from beyond the river, seeking sustenance.

Long, greedy tentacles extended from the bow of the warship, writhing with the scent of hunting prey.

What is an insect sea?

The boundless waves, like real ocean waves, surged and crashed in.

This is a vast nervous system, with pulses measured in nanoseconds rapidly emanating from the mothership and being transferred to its peripheral nerve endings by tens of thousands of nodes.

Devouring, growing stronger, devouring, growing stronger; they are pure to the extreme, using war as their teeth to bite off every planet.

The narwhal worm ship slowly emerged from the swarm of worms, its gravity began to collapse, and space began to fold and distort.

……

On the target planet, the greens looked up in confusion. They saw unusual colorful clouds, long howls emanating from the earth, and the coastline abruptly dropping.

Inside the exploration station, the young detectives all rushed to the biggest and reddest button and pressed it!

drop!

The alarms sounded almost simultaneously on the planet and in Hades' command center.

First, the planet's gravitational field was distorted, a byproduct of the Tyranids' faster-than-light travel.

The Zerg fleet is a purely biological force that does not generate any electromagnetic signals when not in combat, meaning it cannot be detected by conventional means.

Space stations orbiting the planet went into combat readiness mode, their detection beacons standing tall, with screaming Maggi boys strapped to the very top.

The warship sailed out of the spaceport, flames spewing from the ends of its engines as it swam wildly. However, the vacuum of space could not hear the green-skinned waaagh.

In the silent darkness, those twisted creatures came ashore.

The enormous creature, resembling a conch shell, was covered by a thick, sturdy carapace. Spikes protruded from its back, forming Tyrannosaurus Rex's living torpedoes. Thick, predatory tentacles extended from its front end, waving about.

One, two, three... one hundred and three... one thousand seven hundred and fifty-four... fourteen thousand five hundred and twenty-three... twenty thousand... thirty thousand... four...

This is a level of incomparability that would put any intelligent being to shame. Perhaps the Chaos should once again thank Tyron for his indifference to the warp.