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

Page 495

Hades slapped Blake hard, and Blake shut up.

Hades thought silently that the young man wasn't very clever.

Hades would never admit that he had actually wanted to shout that for a long time, because it was really exciting.

He was even a little disappointed. Hades' dark domain prevented him from resonating with WAAAAAGH's stance. Otherwise, Hades imagined himself standing on the mountaintop, and after WAAAAAGH, all the greens would follow him with WAAAAAGH. What an exhilarating scene that would be!

Hades had barely finished speaking when he stared at Magnus before him, almost fainting. The red glow on the crimson king's skin kept changing, becoming lighter and darker, like a red, iridescent, chameleon.

"Fine..." Magnus said almost through gritted teeth, "I reluctantly accept your point of view, Eugen, but—"

The Crimson King abruptly changed the subject, glancing with one eye at Black behind Hades.

Why is he shouting too?! This little guy is one of the few beings we can positively communicate with in the subspace!

Hades righteously stepped aside, making way for Blake, and looked at Blake sideways, cutting with righteous indignation.

“Blake, you really shouldn’t have shouted that. You should have shouted Mortalian and Death.”

The two giants stared at the Space Marine at the same time. Blake Butcher stood there, like a statue, looking extremely out of place.

After a long while, a barely audible "Oh..." came from inside Blake's helmet.

Seeing this, Magnus wanted to press his advantage, angrily rebuking the two Oglins, one big and one small, for their unreliability, but Hades immediately stepped back in front of Black, blocking him.

“Oh dear, the child is still young and doesn’t understand—Magnus, you’re over ten thousand years old, have some consideration for this young man in the 40K.”

Magnus was so angry he felt like his lungs were about to explode! If he weren't currently without a body, Magnus suspected he would have coughed up blood from anger.

What is this giant axe-wielding Oglin saying?!

He calls a guy who's over a hundred years old and has killed at least six figures and aliens a "youngster"?!

Magnus's deep breathing grew more and more rapid, just as Hades thought Magnus could be a disco ball.

With a loud bang, Magnus's illusion vanished, replaced by a bright red stone.

Hades was shocked and rushed forward to retrieve the stone.

"Little Mag! Little Mag! What's wrong with you!"

【Shut up! 】

Don't argue with the barbarians of this primitive world... True wisdom only shines in the conversations of wise men. Don't argue... Take a deep breath... Meditate...

True wisdom lies in not engaging in debate with fools.

Magnus’s vision appeared once again, this time appearing much calmer.

Magnus exhaled a breath of stale air. "Oglin, I sincerely regret the respect I showed you back then."

Seeing that Magnus was alright and just angry, Hades waved his hand proudly, "Don't be obsessed with me, I'm just a legend."

Magnus fell silent, his disdain almost palpable in his single eye. He shook his head silently, deciding not to argue with the negative psychic Oglin any longer.

The Primarch sighed, then said solemnly, "From now on, you must obey my orders. The ritual for contacting the warp is complex, subtle, and exquisitely delicate; not a single mistake can be tolerated—"

Magnus looked at Hades and, as if anticipating his words, said in advance, "I know what you're going to say, High Heaven's Despiser. If other warp beings interfere with the ritual, you can simply send them back—but that will greatly slow down our search for Mortalian."

Hades in front of him finally put away his smug expression.

"it is good."

Magnus continued, "Now that we have gathered the initial death, I will first try to anchor Mortarion in the High Heavens, and then, depending on the situation, decide whether to contact him."

"Quite meticulous," Hades remarked, arms crossed and chin in hand.

These words seemed to reignite Magnus's anger. Hades watched with interest as Magnus's hair rose and fell, and finally, the Crimson King spoke calmly.

"I don't expect Oglin to understand what true subtlety is," Magnus said. "You only see the rigor and order of the steps and logic—but the vast ocean is not like that; it is composed of emotions and soul. When a great psychic performs a ritual, every emotion should be perfectly aligned—don't judge, I know you cannot understand, Negative Psychic Oglin."

Hades looked away guiltily. "Okay, I really can't understand."

His ability is more like throwing bricks with tremendous force in the subspace.

Magnus raised his hand, signaling the two Eugens to be quiet.

Give me fourteen minutes; I need to determine if now is the right time to begin the ceremony.

Magnus said, "You two, arrange these alien corpses—in the shape of the Death Guard's emblem, and make sure the number of corpses in each section is a multiple of seven. It's better to waste extra corpses than to break the rule of seven."

They needed to establish contact with Mortalian as much as possible. During the voyage, Magnus asked Black about the Death Guard's detailed procedure for summoning Mortalian.

However, they lacked the rigorous and abundant conditions of the Death Guard, so Magnus had to make adjustments.

But it doesn't matter, the Death Guard doesn't have a psionicist as powerful as Magnus.

"It's all set here, Father!"

Magnus plunged himself into the vast ocean, observing whether other High Celestial beings would be paying attention to this area at this moment—but thanks to the Tyranids and the Greenskins, apart from the Greenskins' psionic storms violently pounding against Magnus, the Primarch found no trace of other beings in this star system.

Magnus sensed the flow of water in the High Heavens; their existence would inevitably attract the attention of the Greenskin-related subspace beings.

But if he wants to successfully link himself to the Mortarion, rather than the Greenskins... perhaps he really should let Hades keep shouting WAAAAAGH.

For some reason, when Magnus’s soul touched upon this idea, the Crimson King felt a moment of discouragement and inexplicable displeasure. He felt a dim glow emanating from himself, who was immersed in the highest heavens.

"Hey! Blake, catch!"

This summoning will inevitably be mixed with the psionic energy of the Greenskins; there's no way to avoid it.

The Crimson King thought that all he could do was to artificially mark the Mortarion as much as possible, and to separate the green-skinned psionics who led to the Pale Lord from their main force.

Wow! It's bursting with juice!

Magnus angrily pulled a portion of his thoughts from the High Heavens and looked at Meogrin, who was busily working amidst the pile of green-skinned corpses. [Shut up!]

Hades, who was standing in the middle of the pile of corpses, made a zipping motion with his mouth, signaling Magnus to ignore them.

Magnus gave Hades a warning look, and once he was sure the idiot was done, he returned to the warp that had welcomed him.

And Mortalian's location...

Amidst countless bright green psionic energy, Magnus struggled to control his consciousness, trying to float upwards and distance himself as far away as possible from this green, ever-present sun.

According to Hades' intelligence, Mortarion should now be deeply entrenched in the domain of the Lord of Stagnation.

"Idiot," Magnus cursed, recalling the disdainful look in that Nicaea Council, the discrimination against psionicists? Now it was him, the great psionic Magnus, who had come to seek out Mortalian.

At one point, Magnus lamented the Pale Lord's feat of leading his army into the Warp—what was his true purpose?

Does he really want to defeat that being...? Magnus was almost in astonishment and regret. It was pure wishful thinking; it was unrealistic.

Did Mortarian not realize that his psionic origins were remarkably similar to that being's—they were destined to be unable to completely destroy each other, only to submit to one another and be submitted to, to assimilate and be assimilated?

Within the vast ocean, the boundaries of each type of psionic energy are not so clearly defined, let alone similar existences.

Mortarian, Mortarian… Magnus was completely absorbed in discerning the tactile sensations of psychic energy, releasing all his emotions and perceptions. Billions of threads passed through the gaps in his soul, playing a discordant yet resonant melody.

Magnus has no intention of helping Mortarion—never, he will never forgive Mortarion unless he himself is being genuinely threatened by some negative psychic Oglin.

He only wanted to restore the empire's former glory. The Crimson King never gave up on clearing his name, nor did he ever abandon those people and things he had wronged in the past.

I also repaid the trust I had shown back then.

A very fine thread barely touched the crimson light of the Crimson King. Magnus noticed it; it was a dim line, like a thread made of ash, with a faint dark green hanging on it.

This must be the aura of Mortarion, the Pale Lord, highly distinctive.

If Hades were to describe it, he would say it's a kind of temperament like someone with kidney deficiency.

found it.

Magnus flashed an excited bright red light, and he quickly sank into the bright green River of Time, returning to his original position.

Magnus opened his eyes and saw the green-skinned corpses arranged in an orderly fashion before him.

Hades and Black were crouching on the ground, furtively fiddling with the green-skinned corpses, doing something unknown.

Having just emerged from the vast ocean, Magnus, still somewhat agitated, flew over with a frown. "What are you doing?!"

Hades clenched his green fingers in a fist.

"After I finished setting them up, I saw you weren't reacting for a long time, so I got bored and chopped all the green fingers down to seven."

Magnus was deeply shocked.

For the first time, the Crimson King was speechless, his face pale. He thought that the Negative Psionic Oglin seemed to have done the right thing, but it was still extremely strange.

"No need," Magnus paused for a moment, "My power is sufficient to offset such an oversight."

“It’s finished,” Hades said. “Float up and see if we’ve arranged it neatly, little magician Mag?”

Magnus stammered as if he wanted to say something, but everything he said was rendered powerless by Hades's hands, which were gripping a bunch of green fingers.

【……OK. 】

Magnus, who was already an illusion, began to rise. He saw a huge six-ringed skull neatly arranged on the blood-stained ground, silently watching him under the blood-red setting sun.

But what silenced Magnus the most was that the two Oglins used their broken green fingers to piece together a bunch of "Motalian" characters, which formed a circle around the altar.

Heresy, so heretical.

This was Magnus's only remaining thought.

Magnus's silence nearly caused him internal injury; he could no longer bear it. His single eye could not withstand the strain, and the Primarch hastily descended.

"Well done..." Magnus felt his own words were beating him. "Not bad..."

Just before Hades could grin, Magnus quickly added, "[But adjustments are still needed—you must not enter this area!]"

Hades scratched his head, ran back a bit, and then left the altar.

"You, little Oglin," Magnus said, looking at Blake, "come here."

He instructed Blake to stand in the center of the altar, right on top of the massive, heavily armored boss's corpse. Blake stiffly obeyed Magnus's command and stood at attention.

Magnus stared at Blake for a while before finally deciding to take the power axe from his hand.

Blake tried to resist, but eventually succumbed to the pressure from the powerful psychic.

"You!" Magnus then turned and shouted to Hades, who was watching the commotion from a distance, "Get away from here now. Make sure the greenskins on this planet don't invade. Also, use your abilities to keep watch over this area. If anything seems amiss, remember to stop them immediately!"

【as well as……】

Magnus gritted his teeth, feeling the veins in his head throbbing with rage, wishing he could immediately unleash a bolt of lightning upon Eugen.

[—Remember to shout your WAAAAAGH!!! Don't stop!!!]

Hades happily waved his two axes at him.

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

Hades responded in this way, while also catching the power axe that Magnus threw at him, which belonged to Black.

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 568 Don't Stop

Hades raised his axe, pursed his lips, and glanced into the distance.

The last full sun slowly set before him, the cold wind blowing through his disheveled hair. Hades remembered Magnus's instructions; he needed to continue chanting "WAAAAAGH" and, incidentally, keep watch on his surroundings.

Unfortunately, perhaps because Hades had been too aggressive in the past, no greenskin is now willing to challenge Hades to a fight.

Hades could only sit bored on the small mound, controlling the Dark Domain and carefully touching the psychic boundary Magnus had created—if anything went wrong, Hades would immediately stop the ritual.

“waaagh…”

Hades murmured, turning back repeatedly to look at the distant horizon, where night fell on the straight, dry line, and Magnus's bright red dot could be faintly seen.

"[Black Butcher,]" Magnus cleared his throat. "[I need you to focus intently on Mortarion. Remember, absolutely do not think of...]" Magnus lowered his voice, glancing nervously in Hades' direction. "[Absolutely do not recall the deceased. I know this is very difficult for you, but the great psionicist will help you with his psychic powers.]"

Blake stared at Magnus for a moment, then spoke in a hoarse voice, "Are you sure this is reliable?"

Magnus gave a knowing smile. "You don't believe me, but you should believe your father," Magnus straightened up. "He knows that even if I fail, he can immediately rescue us from this vast ocean."

In other words, if you ignore the Dark Realm that makes psionicists scream, vomit, faint, or even die, then the Dark Realm is actually a very good tool to assist psionic spells.

After all, many spells fail because of incorrect casting and the inability to stop the spell.

Thinking of this, Magnus laughed again. "I know, little Oglin, you don't believe me," Magnus said proudly, "People may question my decisions—but believe me, Magnus never fails in magic."

Moreover, the three greatest psionicists in the Empire back then, now... Magnus's expression suddenly darkened again.

Makado... He still doesn't know Makado's whereabouts.