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

Page 423

The aura of death is shrouding this place.

Wearing a heavy gas mask, Macardo stood before a pile of burning ashes, countless corpses with their throats slit turning to ash in the glowing green phosphorescence.

The old man's gas mask, with its dark goggles, reflected a drawing of hell in front of him.

Poisonous fire ignited, and suffocating mist rose from the flames of the corpses. Countless aliens and human traitors, whose vocal organs had been rendered mute by the poison, were silently slit by the Death Guards and then pushed into the seven bonfires burning fiercely in the hall.

Fearless Karas held Mortarion's scythe mistletoe in his hand, standing in a circle of seven bonfires. Seven aliens of different races were bound before him.

People waited quietly.

Finally, as if sensing something, a strange light flashed across Makado's glasses, and the old man lowered his scepter, the golden flames on it turning a layer of emerald green.

Macardo placed the head of the scepter into the phosphorescent fire of the burning corpse in front of him.

Seven seconds later, Makado suddenly raised his scepter and chanted an ancient incantation. Green flames rose up and burned fiercely, spewing out billowing smoke.

Like a wizard performing a ritual, Makado, whose entire body began to convulse from the incantation, screamed.

"It's now!!!"

The fearless, silent in the center of the altar, raised the mistletoe; the scythe was sharp, blood splattered, death, death, death again, seven deaths, calling upon their Lord.

Amidst the firelight, distorted moth shadows twisted and writhed on the walls of the Resilient, as the monsters of the warp were summoned and revealed their true forms from the physical world.

A hoarse, dying sound rose from the silence.

+...fuck it. +

The Pale Lord's drowning curses rose weakly, and Mortarian, who had been prostrate on the ground, slowly rose to his feet. His drooping wings began to fold back together as he stood up.

But Makado saw it: in Mortarion's outstretched wings, there was a pierced wound. The Pale Lord's armor was broken there, revealing hideous flesh and blood. The swollen, oily wound oozed out thick, black venom.

Mortarian let out a loud gasp and folded his wings, now completely concealing the wound beneath them.

Mortarian took a deep breath, white mist billowing from beneath his gas mask. Standing amidst the highly toxic fog, the Pale Lord stood relaxed, as if he thoroughly enjoyed the environment.

Wearing a heavy gas mask, Macardo walked over, scepter in hand.

"You've been exiled?"

The old man pointed out bluntly,

Beneath the hood, Mortalian, now fully established in the physical world, glanced disapprovingly at Macado, but after taking seven breaths, he finally spoke.

I voluntarily requested to be exiled.

Primitive theory,

He is vying with me for authority... I cannot defeat Him, unless...

"impossible,"

Makado said calmly,

"Stop thinking about summoning the deceased. Your psionic abilities are too conspicuous to the deceased. Others might remember him by chance—but you won't."

"Unless the empire no longer needs you, you can die anywhere you like, and then you can summon him however you like."

A muffled cough came from beneath the gas mask, and Mortarian frowned.

"Shortcuts are always tempting, but you need to be clear about the price you have to pay for taking them—Magnus is a prime example."

As always, Mortarian ignored Makado's sermon.

You've become weak, Makado?

Mortarian frowned. "I don't think summoning me will waste too much of your psionic energy."

Makado coughed and shook his head.

"There is no distinction of time in the subspace—the future can also influence the present. I am getting closer and closer to my anchor point, which is inevitable."

“What I am about to do, at least I know what I am doing, Mortarian.”

Beneath the mask, Makado's eyes were sharp.

"You should also know what you should be doing."

I understand.

"Motalian said sullenly," the old man said, but the old man, hunched over, went around to Motalian's back.

"You're still too hasty."

The old man calmly pointed this out.

"Then let's see if your urgency is worth the price you pay."

Mortarian paused for a moment, then spoke again.

Horus,

He said, "Horus betrayed me. I fought him; he was slightly stronger than me—but it's hard to say what happened after that. After seeing the Khan, he seemed more willing to accept the power of Chaos."

"It was foreseeable."

"Continue," Macado said.

[Alpha, two Alphas. I can't tell which one is the Primarch, but they've both fallen. One has fallen into the Blood Pool, and the other... has taken my place.]

Makado fell silent. The old man remained silent for a long time, as if deep in thought.

Finally, Macardo sighed.

"Alpha was raised by me personally,"

He said, "I misled him."

Mortarian's gaze subtly drifted towards Macado.

[Is it about fate and the part about secrecy?]

Makado nodded heavily. "He misunderstood."

"It doesn't matter," Mortarian said. "No matter what, Alpha's adoptive father is better than mine. I only know that the next time we meet, I will bring him death."

Macado nodded.

[And then there are Fugen and Magnus,]

Mortarian continued, "Horus mentioned them when he was trying to persuade the Khan to surrender; it sounds like they've betrayed us too."

"Has the Khan betrayed us?"

Makado suddenly asked,

【No,】

Mortarian replied, "I sensed the same aura emanating from him as I do."

Macado paused, then the old man finally managed to laugh.

"Hate the Empire, but hate Chaos even more?"

【right. 】

Motarian said nonchalantly.

At least he was loyal.

“Good,” Makado nodded, “The Khan knows…this is a good thing—”

"—Where's Corax?"

Motalian paused for a moment, which was uncommon for him.

【he……】

Mortarian said slowly, "I threw him onto Whitescar's ship in the final moments before I was banished—but my domain was suddenly severed. I was fighting Him with all my might at the time, and I don't know where in the physical world he returned to."

Makado paused for a moment, then said decisively,

"Alright, so this operation resulted in the loss of Corax. How is his legion doing?"

[It was scattered by Horus's fleet, but one-third of it remains.]

Makado shook his head.

"The Ravenguard ships will be incorporated into Whitescar, so we can stop considering the Ravenguard from now on."

Mortarion seemed taken aback by Makado's answer. The Pale Lord lowered his head, looking at Makado in disbelief.

[Were the Raven Guards not important in your original plan?]

The Pale Lord asked,

“No,” Macado said, “the Empire is simply prepared to lose, to sacrifice, any legion, any Primarch, any person at any time.”

"Any other news?"

Makado said the old man was silent for a moment, recalling the emperor's last words.

"For example, a mechanical alien, the Mortalian, have you encountered anything similar?"

Motarian looked at Makado in surprise.

I did encounter a mechanical sage who was completely soulless—I'm not sure, I was planning to teleport back and question him.

But the plan failed, and Mortarian was forced to choose exile.

He also...

Motalian paused, as if only then realizing something.

He was swept away with one of my familias in the last moments, but I can no longer sense my familias.

He could no longer feel his power. Each small Death Guard was an extension of the Pale Lord's power, but now, Mortarian could not feel it at all.

What is that?!

"Motalian shouted angrily."

--------

"A small, slightly altered Death Guard."

Tarasin said that after a brief rest with the Khan, he returned to his private room in the Silent Order, where he poked with interest the little Death Guard that was struggling desperately in his hand.

The little death guard let out a soft, shrill cry, sounding like a distorted war howl, and drew a small dagger from its waist, attempting to stab Tarasin.

Tarasin thought it was a lot of fun.

"I've isolated the warp; no matter how much you call, it won't work."

Tarasin let out a mechanical laugh, lifted his mechanical robe, and stuffed the little Deathguard into the shadow of his robe. The little Deathguard's voice faded away, silenced by the static force within his robe.

They escaped death for now.

Tarasin thought that at least he wouldn't have to face Mortarian anymore. Mortarian was more troublesome than he had imagined, and it seemed he still needed to prepare.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the Primarch's dagger; it disappeared along with Corax.

...Corax, Tarasin's thoughts dimmed for a moment.

Hopefully he's alright, the Space Overlord thought. He could use another body to try and find Corax; perhaps Corax would need his help.

The physical location corresponding to the last subspace coordinates where the Raven Lord fell is—

The green indicator light on Taracin's face flashed as his spies, planted throughout the galaxy, simultaneously sprang into action, searching for the Primarch that the space tyrant desired.

—Near the fleet of the Son of Heaven?!

That's it! Great!

Chapter 497 The audience members below the stage reached out their hands.

Humanity.

Throughout the vast river of history, humanity has not been the true, complete master of this galaxy.

The ancient saints who had completely disappeared underwent bio-transformation and collectively entered hibernation as space undead. The celestial gods, who once fed on stars and souls, were created by the ancient saints to fight against the Orcs and Eldar.

These races have all left their mark on this slowly flowing galaxy, but as time has passed, those races that once dominated the galaxy have left, disappeared, fallen silent, or gone into hibernation. Newly born races have emerged from their home planets in bewilderment and set foot on this vast sea of ​​stars once more.

Humans are one of them.