bookbashuk Page 457
Page 457
The following section, Magnus the Fool, also only used six thousand words.
My dramatic moments can't be written in long, so I can't use word count to create a grand or slow-paced effect.
I also despair that I can't write long.
It was a complete failure.
So I apologize again.
I'm sorry I couldn't perform better.
But at least… with a weak exhale… at least the great rebellion was recounted in a relatively clear and complete manner…
At least—this volume is finished!
Okay, I know the root of the problem myself.
First, the style of this volume, "The Great Rebellion," is different from the previous volumes. It's not just about ensemble casts; it also has a rather oppressive style.
Secondly, it was my own mistake that I made, and that cannot be excused.
Thirdly, the updates are shoddy and poorly made, and it's even more of a parcel within a parcel.
It's a triple whammy of decision-making errors, capability failures, and update mistakes.
However... this volume of mine... feels like walking on thin ice... this is the best solution I can think of.
In terms of the style of this book, this is the best solution I can think of.
My whole life has been like walking on thin ice! But I've finally reached the other side!!!
Ugh... Ahh ...
A desperate cry
But it's over! It's over! It's over!
it's over!
Next, I will outline the plot and timeline of the 40k story (the timeline will definitely be significantly altered). I will first update some side stories to keep things going, as well as some important events after the Great Rebellion.
I'll update this section when I announce the new release.
At 40k, the story returns to the protagonist's perspective, and while it might use a semi-ensemble cast depending on the pacing, it will definitely not be that long.
And the 40k-word story is tentatively set as a pure, enjoyable read.
This is a book review section where we're looking for warbands and some tech trees.
Beep beep beep—See you tomorrow! (ω)
Sorry for the extra chapter, but this is my second playthrough (1)
[The previous bonus chapter has been moved to a different location]
Warnings before reading: [Schrödinger's cat-like connection to the main plot] [Character inconsistencies] [Purely wish-fulfillment story] [Mindless narrative]
This chapter is also known as:
Help! I completed the game perfectly on my first playthrough, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself back in the starting village with max level and god-tier gear.
My own father is actually me.
I'll beat up whoever I don't like, and I'll hit anyone who looks at me.
"You brat, yes, you, Mortarian, come here and call me 'Dad'."
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Barbarossa
On the vast wilderness, shrouded in mist that obscures the surroundings, it never dissipates.
A hazy, gray fog swirled and radiated outwards from scattered human settlements. The poisonous fog grew thicker and thicker, draping the interspersed vegetation in a deathly white veil. Occasionally, strange, tall creatures would appear from the fog, only to vanish again in the white expanse.
The Barbarosians do not easily venture into the fog. Generations of people who have lived here know that it is a forbidden zone for human life. Even the strongest young men in the village only dare to explore the truth of the wilderness in broad daylight, in groups, wearing the most protective gas masks.
That's how it should have been, until—
The man working in the field looked up, as if sensing something. He looked towards the distant wasteland but found nothing.
Following his gaze, we passed through billowing white mist, through withered branches, and amidst a dense thicket, the branches trembled slightly…
...A peaceful snore could be heard during this time.
A small black dot drifted across the sky, as if it had discovered something. The dot hovered in the air, growing larger and larger. The flying vulture lowered its neck, its eyes fixed on the unusual color among the trees.
It caught a glimpse of human color.
The lone human on its menu in the wilderness, the carrion vulture squinted, folded its wings, and swooped straight down toward its prey—
"suck!!!!!"
The screams shattered the surrounding tranquility, startling the creatures dwelling among the trees into scattering in all directions, instantly turning the once quiet field into a bustling scene.
However, the initial scream had already disappeared.
"...What the hell?"
Hades sat up in a daze, his face covered in bushes as soon as he stood up. He looked around blankly, clutching a squashed chick in his right hand.
He remembered that he died peacefully, so how come he was still alive when he opened his eyes?
Hades was full of questions. His body reacted before his brain could process what was happening. Hades stood up and took a deep, deep breath.
Ah! Hassan, this is the air of my homeland!!!
The familiar and wonderful air instantly sobered Hades. He tried to inhale deeply the poisonous fog while searching for his scythe and gun among the bushes.
Hades stepped out of the bushes and saw the familiar sight of Barbaros.
Because of the existence of the Underworld, Hades knew that this was not an illusion from the Warp—besides, he and the Emperor had already beaten up everyone in the Warp who didn't like them, so what little devil would dare to fool him with an illusion?
Staring at the familiar surroundings, Hades realized something—
He seems to have been reborn.
But fate did not take away the experience and divine equipment he had painstakingly earned.
After confirming repeatedly and spying on the local villagers, Hades became certain of his idea: he had been reborn, and reborn in the years when he first arrived in Barbaros.
But this time, Barbalus was not facing a level 0 Hades, but a level 100 Hades.
Hades' smile grew increasingly unrestrained.
You mean to harbor filth?
------------
A superman appeared on Barbarossa.
Initially, the giants, who were more than two times the height of the two people, appeared not far from the village. The bewildered people set up defenses in fear and hid in their homes.
But the giant merely stood at the edge of the field, glanced at the panicked people from afar, broke off a white corncob, and then left.
The people breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the giant leave, but then, that very night, they witnessed a real nightmare.
Above the fog-shrouded wilderness, wild, untamed laughter echoed, mingling with the howls and screams of countless monsters.
The Pale Laughers and Carrion Eaters fled frantically from the side of the village into the distance, but the giant that appeared from the mist pointed at the creatures from afar, and the monsters fell straight down, like soulless puppets.
At the same time, everyone huddled at home felt a chilling sense of helplessness.
The next day, when the sun rose again, the daring young men went out to investigate and witnessed an unbelievable scene.
Monsters, once regarded as murderous beasts, lay dead in the wasteland in droves. Some were unharmed, while others were torn apart in an extremely brutal manner. They even found human-like teeth marks on some of the monsters' corpses.
The giant killed the monster.
The news spread like wildfire, as rapidly as the footsteps of a giant.
He seemed to be consciously and systematically eliminating those man-eating beasts. Countless monsters fell on the wasteland with mournful cries, and every few dozen steps there was a new pile of bones.
He even ventured to the lord's stronghold near the village and, amidst the lord's terrifying psionic white light, twisted off the alien's head.
For most of the native creatures on Barbalus, their real nightmare has arrived.
But to the people's surprise, they found that the giant seemed to be kind to them.
Whenever the giant passed through a village, he would simply pick a fruit from a crop, without harming anyone or damaging the village.
Gradually, some daring individuals began to approach the giant.
Those who searched for the giant all returned with surprise and stammering. According to them, the giant was in the thick fog, but he did not wear a mask. His face was not like that of a typical giant, which was foolish. His face was as hard as a knife-cut rock, handsome and imposing, and his scarlet mechanical eyes were full of murderous intent.
The giant said his name was Hades.
Hades treated humans very well. When someone tried to invite him to a village, Hades, sitting atop a pile of alien skeletons and leaning against his scythe, simply waved them off.
"Let me plow the land once first."
He said it casually, while throwing the white corn, husk and all, that the villagers had voluntarily given him into his mouth.
Plow the land once?
The people of Barbarossa, who made their living by farming, looked at each other in bewilderment. They had never imagined that the word "plowing" could be used here.
He said he was plowing the field!
And Hades was indeed doing just that, setting off from the lowest-lying wasteland of Barbaros and heading towards the high mountains, the King of the Underworld's scythe meticulously scraping every patch of soil.
Compared to Hades's pace, a massive biological migration occurred on Barbarossa. Led by alien lords fleeing their own territories, countless creatures, whom Hades considered "targets for extermination," were relentlessly fleeing into the distance.
They didn't even have time to stop and rest or forage, because the monster chasing them didn't need to rest!
That eerie, nightmarish laughter bit them hard!
The monsters fled toward the mountains, begging Nacre, the true master of Barbarus, to take them in.
The alien lord Nacre lives atop the highest mountain in Barbarus, possesses the most advanced sorcery, and commands countless puppets and armies.
No matter how strong that giant is—he can't win against the combined attack of all the monsters of Barbarus and the Nacre!
----------
A commotion arose from the dark outside.
Sitting silently in the room, Mortalian, who was quietly wrapping the bandages around his arm, seemed not to have heard the sounds.
However, they were just another group of desperate people who came to curry favor with the powerful.
A monster has descended upon Barbaros.
A dark, unreadable light shone in Mortarion's brown eyes. Since a week ago, countless lords and monsters fleeing from the south had come to seek refuge with his foster father, Nacre.
They knelt down tremblingly, eagerly offering their loyalty to their former mortal enemy, Nacre, hoping that Nacre would take them in and provide them with a way to survive.
Just to... survive.
Mortarian scoffed at this behavior.
But what he didn't want to see was that Nacre's army was expanding with the addition of other forces.
Mortarion wanted to kill his adoptive father... The Primarch was naturally unwilling to see the Nacre's power grow.
The Primarch finished bandaging his arm, touched the dagger hidden at his waist, and stood up. Head bowed, he obediently followed his puppets as they waited for him to leave.
The monster was getting closer and closer to Nacre's territory. Mortarion climbed into the carriage and slowly started the convoy toward the mountaintop. His foster father had deployed most of the army on the mountainside, while he and a few highly powerful psychic lords guarded the fortress at the summit, hoping the poisonous fog would weaken the monster's strength.
Meanwhile, Nacre also decided to bring Mortarian, whom he had imprisoned on the mountainside, to the summit—the damned alien didn't want to waste a good card in its hand too soon.
Sitting cross-legged in the bumpy carriage, Mortarian remained silent. In Nacre's castle, the concentration of poisonous fog was not very high, and he could move around and fight within it.
This is……
Mortarian lowered his head, touched the dagger at his waist again, and a determined light flashed in his eyes.
This was a good opportunity for him to kill Nacre.
If that monster were to arrive here, Mortarion thought, and somehow, the Primarch realized that the Nacre was no match for the monster.
If that monster comes—it will kill both Nacre and Mortarion.
Mortarian thought.
The Primarch calmly accepted his impending death. Mortarion might try to escape, but only after he kills Nacre.