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

Page 460

Anyway, those weird things aren't inedible.

Hades could also go hungry... he might be able to endure without food or water until the Empire came to power—but Hades could not guarantee his mental state at that time.

Here, Hades once again remarked that he was fortunate to be a defensive character with maxed-out poison resistance.

Mortarion thought for a moment. He wanted to say that some people could die—but he also didn't want them to die. He looked at Hades, who didn't seem to have thought of this either—the Primarch didn't intend to remind Hades.

So Mortarian nodded, watching Hades devour corn one after another, realizing the urgency of the matter.

Hades continued,

“We also need to share technology with the villagers. I have summarized six technologies, and I will draw up the blueprints later and give them to the villagers—the Nacre territory. The transport planes at the bottom level can also be distributed to the villagers, but we should not share weapons.”

[Not sharing weapons?]

"They don't need it now."

Hades said that in a turbulent situation, it's inevitable that some people will have ulterior motives, but in a place like Barbarossa, even if you want to build a hedonistic class, you need sufficient productivity to support it. Fighting... what are you fighting for? The corn storage at the east end of the village?

But that's Hades's opinion. For the people living here... if they take a gun, they might actually be fighting over the corn storage at the east end of the village.

With the external enemies eliminated and the village itself possessing certain defensive capabilities, there's no need to waste energy on military development at this stage. Let's focus on increasing agriculture and population first!

Hades thought for a moment and decided to speak more seriously.

"Do you crave war, Mortarian?"

[I do not crave it.]

Mortalian answered almost instantly.

Hades laughed. "I don't want you and I to be the most powerful forces on this planet right now—so we will do everything we can to prevent war."

Mortarion stared at Hades, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. The Primarch hesitated before asking, "[Dictatorship?]"

Hades thought for a moment, "Perhaps it's possible in the future, but we don't even have a proper administrative body, so what's the point of this? Your civilization is progressing too fast."

“And…” Hades said, “If anyone’s going to be a dictator, it’s you. I don’t want to do any work.”

Mortalian pupil earthquake.

“However,” Hades suddenly said, “if you don’t want war, then strive to become the most powerful force, and then you won’t need to want war anymore. That’s for sure!”

Before Mortarian could reply, Hades continued,

"Once productivity increases, we'll find a base to develop, build a city-state, and advance technology... Then you'll see bustling crowds on the stone-paved roads, and there will be street vendors—that's free trade. People will be able to escape the struggle for survival and do what they want..."

【Then what? 】

Motalian suddenly asked, as if a scene had appeared before his eyes, but strangely, he had never encountered such things before.

It's really good...

He envisioned a prosperous scene, with orderly stone houses and a high castle protecting the settlement, its flags hanging down, each bearing a six-spined skull on its pale green surface.

Motarian suddenly became fully awake.

What are you planning to do then? Dictatorship?

Hades rolled his eyes. He was just making empty promises to Mortalian, why wasn't the kid taking them?

"This is your job!"

Hades declared righteously, "The nascent human civilization needs a leader—and that person is you!"

Mortarion looked at Hades with suspicion, and the Primarch asked cautiously, as if he couldn't believe such a good thing could exist.

[Shouldn't it be you...?]

Hades sighed. What was the point of being the supreme ruler? Was it the coarse cloth or the corn on the Tubabalus? Responsibility always comes with power—he had seen and taken enough in his previous life. Now he just wanted to find a beautiful place to retire.

Hades said heavily, "Because I... um... because I observed the stars last night, and a star of imperial power flashed across the south! Tell me it was you!"

Hades raised his hand.

“Alright,” he said helplessly, “Motalian, don’t you think you’re exceptionally gifted, with extraordinary bone structure and meridians that are unlike those of ordinary people?”

I'm not as good as you.

Motarian was telling the truth.

The cold reality slapped Hades in the face, and after thinking about it, Hades realized that Mortarian probably wouldn't be able to catch up with him in this lifetime.

"You still need more experience."

Hades concluded by saying, “I have already mastered my divine skills and am invincible. You are not yet—you need to hone your skills and refine yourself, not only in combat but also in leadership—and then when you have also mastered them, heavenly soldiers and generals will descend from the sky to take you to a grander battlefield.”

On that very day, Mortarian believed Hades was ill.

Perhaps a nerve in his brain is compressed, or worse, it's necrotic.

Mortarian stared calmly at Hades, half of whose head was mechanical... or perhaps the mechanical thing had driven him mad.

To get full attendance bonus, I'll get a VIP membership. That's all, great!

Chapter 539 Extra: Sorry, but this is my second playthrough (4)

Motalian sat calmly in the room, reviewing documents without any emotional fluctuation.

He sat in what could be considered the best room in the entire Barbarossa, reviewing what could be described as the most documents in the entire Barbarossa.

Two years have passed since Nacre's death. After spending a year in the heart of the central region and accumulating a batch of food, he and Hades chose to leave that area and come to "Safe Haven".

They, along with the Barbarians who had voluntarily followed them, began to build a new home.

Contrary to popular belief, after instructing Mortalian for a period of time, Hades decisively put Mortalian in charge of the construction of the safe haven.

On ordinary days, Hades was responsible for teaching the craftsmen mechanical skills, as well as letting out a roar and lunging to the ground.

Today, Hades went out to plow the fields with great enthusiasm. His goal for the day was to hoe over a hill.

He just doesn't want to work.

It's not that there's really not enough food.

Mortarian was acutely aware of this.

After finishing his daily task of tilling the land, Hades would space out, space out for a long time. He liked to sit by the river and stay there all day.

They don't seem to have a passion for construction or their work at all.

In fact, Mortarian didn't love paperwork either; deep down, he knew he wasn't cut out for it.

However, since he couldn't defeat Hades or outrun him, he was always left behind to oversee construction.

For example, today, Mortarian planned to go out first to collect plants from Barbarus. He quietly got up, packed his things, and prepared to leave. But just as he was standing at the city gate, meeting with several doctors,

A terrifying laugh echoed behind him, and a dark shadow flashed before his eyes—

boom!

The next moment, Mortarion's vision was reversed. Hades delivered an over-the-shoulder throw, and the Primarch successfully fell to the ground, seeing stars.

When the medic beside him pulled him out of the human-shaped crater more than a meter deep in the ground, Mortarian could only see a laughing figure walking away into the distance.

Hades will probably be away for another four or five days.

A safe haven must be guarded. Mortarian stared expressionlessly at Hades, who had skipped class and was walking away, vowing that he would one day pile Hades up with documents and kill him.

So, today's overtime worker was Mortarian. Mortarian calmly and listlessly reviewed the documents—in less than an hour, the pile of documents on the table was cleared out. Next came patrols, training the army, and moving bricks at the construction site…

Mortalian paused slightly as he wrote, the Primarch's keen hearing picking up on something.

Something finally happened.

The Primarch put down his pen with a sigh of relief, stood up and left. Before leaving, Mortarion glanced at the table. The important documents had been approved, and there weren't many left—no problem.

Mortarian strode to the city gate, where a large crowd had gathered. He saw a patrol pushing and shoving someone. As Mortarian walked over, people immediately made way for him. He saw a thin, youthful boy.

【what happened? 】

Mortarian asked, and the patrolmen bowed as he arrived.

The patrol captain, Morag, stepped forward to explain the situation to Motarian, who listened while keeping an eye on the boy's expression.

Upon seeing Mortarian, the boy was clearly frightened—but he managed to control it well.

Mortarian didn't care. People who met him or Hades for the first time were afraid—especially him. Some people would admire and respect Hades, but for Mortarian, everyone's first reaction was fear.

“He wanted to force his way into the city,” Morag said hesitantly. “We stopped him.”

Mortarian glanced at Morag, and from the faces of the people, he could tell there was more to the story.

"You can come in once you've registered," the Primarch said calmly. "The city is short of people, especially labor."

"I can go to a construction site to carry bricks! I can also go to haul manure!"

Upon hearing the Primarch speak, the boy suddenly shouted, "I don't need much food—I just—I want to see a doctor in the city, my mother is very ill!"

The boy's voice trembled slightly at the end, and he was almost crying. After shouting his last words, he knelt down in front of Mortarian with a thud, burying his face deep in the ground.

Mortarian's eyes widened. He had indeed never experienced anything like this before; after all, he had only been out of Nacre Castle for two years.

But the Primarch keenly noticed that after the boy finished speaking, everyone around him frowned and took a step back.

What is going on?

Don't panic, Mortarion. Think about what Hades will do.

What are you hiding?

The boy remained silent, kneeling on the ground, and appeared to be crying.

Morag frowned and spoke.

“My lord, he is Karas Typhon, the son of his mother and the alien lord—both he and his mother are cursed because of this.”

Karas, who had been burying his head on the ground, suddenly raised his head. His face was streaked with tears, and he stared at Morag with eyes that seemed to want to kill.

Despite his strength, Morag, wielding the long scythe, felt uncomfortable under Karas's gaze.

I see……

Mortarian thought.

Bring me my herbal medicine bag and two weeks' worth of food.

Motari paused for a moment, then thought of Hades. Hades had saved him from the clutches of the alien lord Nacre. Hades was also known for taking care of the weak. So…

Go to the third earthen jar behind Hades' room and take three strips of meat from it.

He probably won't care.

The Primarch's words practically told those around him what he was going to do. People stared at him in astonishment. Morag seemed to want to step forward and dissuade him—Mottarian waved his hand.

"I am the adopted son of the alien Nacre, but that doesn't prove anything..."

Mortarian looked at Karas, who seemed about to cry again.

Was he in this sorry state when Hades rescued him? Mortalian couldn't help but wonder—but at least he didn't cry, right?

But if you do anything even slightly out of line, I will kill you with my own hands.

The Primarch's voice turned cold, and Mortarion raised his voice.

Talent must be utilized, merit must be rewarded, and crimes must be punished—these are the rules of the Death Guard! Since no one has committed a crime, anyone can get a chance.

Seeing that Karas was about to kowtow again, Mortarian quickly added,

[Don't kneel. Prove your worth to me, prove that I didn't save a piece of trash.]

Karas stopped immediately, and the boy wiped away his tears and stubbornly stood up.

Motalian took the medical kit, and with one hand he stuffed the sack of grain into Karas's arms.

Tell me where your mother is?

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After exchanging a few words with the patrol, Mortarian followed Karas away from the safe haven.

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That night

Outside a thatched hut,