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

Page 396

The lion muttered a curse in Caliban, raised his hand, and from the shadows of the building emerged a group of angels with winged helmets.

【go back.】

The Lion King said that he and his dark angels also disappeared into the darkness.

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The weather is nice today.

"Angron said with a smile, peeking out of Guilliman's office. The bright sunlight streamed down from the blue sky. The Lord of Red Sand was in a good mood today, and he smiled as he watched the birds flying in the sky."

Or rather, most of the time, Angron was in a good mood.

Even though the situation wasn't very optimistic, Killieman sighed and put down the documents he was approving.

The Star Torch has not yet been reignited, and wars large and small are raging in the world of Ultramarine, with the Ultramarines joining forces with the Death Guard to cleanse the plague-ridden planets.

Having learned from past mistakes, Lord Macragge could no longer afford to relax for even a moment. In a short time, four new hospital planets were built in the Altrama region. At the same time, in order to prevent agricultural planets from being attacked again, Guilliman approved the construction of five backup agricultural planets.

Guilliman also took the opportunity to conduct a temporary conscription, recruiting those in the preparatory academy who could perform surgery immediately. Soon, 10,000 new recruits would join the legion.

At the same time, he lowered the academy's pass rate by ten percentage points, and the Extreme Legion will expand its forces once again in the future.

Unlike other legions, Robert Guilliman, backed by the Kingdom of Altramor Five Hundred, did not require resources from the Empire—especially equipment from Mars.

Therefore, Guilliman can now expand his army at will without worrying about supply issues or Terra's approval process.

For some political reasons, Killieman tried to discuss the matter with Macardo, to which Macardo responded with an eye roll.

Upon returning, Guilliman immediately began recruiting soldiers.

With the expansion of the Limitless Legion and the passage through the relatively chaotic early stages, the territory of the 500 kingdoms of Alteramar began to expand further on the map.

With the Pale Lord guarding it, the Altrama Starfield is relatively stable.

The Death Guard's clearing of those plague planets went smoothly. Although the Ultramarines observed some casualties within the Death Guard, the Fourteenth Legion did not complain much about it.

Guilliman sighed softly, picked up the steaming teacup, and took a sip—it was a tribute from a hive planet they had just rescued.

Enveloped in white mist, the Ultramarines, together with the Death Guard, beheaded the crazed cultists and psykers, who were still bewildered as to why they could no longer communicate with their gods.

Motalian's assessment of this was,

Those who believe in God are fools—(censored).

Amidst the white mist, the Pale Lord's weak assessment echoed. The accompanying Ultramarines glanced at their companions: the Death Guardians, who carried seven spare daggers each, and the Pale Lord, who could appear and disappear into the mist at any moment…

They tacitly maintained a high level of political awareness and held their own views on the matter.

Guilliman sighed again. New battlefield, new enemies—the Ultramarines would adapt to it quickly.

Angron's voice rang out.

"You've been feeling down lately, Killieman?"

Killieman frowned and took another sip of tea.

I'm still quite worried that what happened last time will happen again.

Angron raised an eyebrow; he knew Guilliman was referring to the illusion.

You're too nervous.

Anglong said with a smile,

Two of the top five psionicists in this empire are with us. If we can't handle this, I can't even imagine how bad things will be on the other battlefields.

Guilliman sighed.

May our brothers be well, and may humanity's glory endure forever.

Angron's expression immediately turned serious.

"The glory of humanity endures," he said. "We should believe in our brothers, who, like us, are Primarchs."

Angron relaxed.

Be optimistic, Guilliman.

The Lord of Red Sand said, "You've become quite the pessimist lately—no one will blame you; Mortarion and I both trust you completely."

The sheer volume of documents across an entire star system means that only one person in the entire galaxy can approve them all within the allotted time and ensure their smooth operation.

This was an ocean of documents that Angron never dared to imagine. Guilliman spent a whole day reviewing them without sleeping. In a daze, Angron seemed to see Hades roaring as he reviewed documents in the whirlpool back then.

However, Hades displayed grief and indignation, while Guilliman exuded a relaxed confidence.

They cannot leave Guilliman, Anglon was acutely aware of this, otherwise they would be governing the country with slow, corrupt, and even occasionally degenerate mortal officials.

Logistics cannot go wrong; not every war can be turned around by a single act of bluffing.

Killieman laughed, took another sip of tea, as if taking a halftime break.

[Makado has approved the interim government.]

Angron, supporting his back, yawned.

Unsurprisingly, we've been doing just that; we just need a name for it.

Kiliman paused,

What do you think?

Angron opened his arms.

I lack the political acumen to give you a satisfactory answer—however, I sincerely hope you can give me a different title; in terms of appearance, I think you're more suitable to be a mascot than I am.

Are you here to approve the documents?

It's alright now.

Angron chuckled and decisively skipped the humiliating part.

But you still have to persuade Mortarion to come. Won't Mortarion's appearance frighten the mortals?

Killian crossed his arms and propped up his chin.

Macado has agreed that Mortarian will appear... As for how he will appear, I think that's a question for Macado and him.

Angron squinted, looking at Guilliman in disbelief.

You really are—

The Lord of Red Sand drew out his voice.

Do you think Mortalian would care about his personal image?

Makado will help him with what he cares about.

Killman replied nonchalantly that the break was over and he would start reviewing the documents again.

Anglon sighed deeply. That's what politicians are like.

He casually wrote the number "seven" on the windowsill, and a wisp of white mist rose from the fingertip of the Lord of Red Sand. Angron poked the mist, which had been dissipating since it appeared, out of boredom.

Great!

Chapter 466 A facade project is still necessary.

"Hey, isn't this the commander of the Eighth Legion? Hello, Commander."

Amit's extremely provocative voice rose and fell in pitch.

The Holy Blood Angel swaggered over to Sevita's side, placing one hand directly on Sevita's shoulder armor while showing off his chainsaw sword, still stained with blood, at his waist with the other.

Sevita's face was so gloomy it was almost dripping with water; his eyes, which had been working on documents all night, were dark circles under them, even more bluish than a corpse that had been dead for three months.

"Leave far away."

Sevita said with a straight face, clearly not even in the mood to slap Amit's hand away.

Beside the two, Coswayne, who was standing ramrod straight, hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward.

"This is not the time to fool around."

The knight briefly stated that the inauguration ceremony was about to begin, and the three of them, as security personnel for their respective legions, were responsible for the ceremony's security and were currently in the underground preparation room.

But nobody listened to him.

Amit continued to taunt Sevita with a grin, the Holy Blood Angel seemingly still resentful that he hadn't taken a bite of Sevita.

If it were the original Sevita, he would have engaged Amit in a fight after a series of cleverly chosen profanities and gestures. If it were the newly appointed legion commander, he would have punched him directly. But now, this current Sevita...

He just gave Amit a disapproving look and rolled his eyes.

"Praise be to the God-King, praise be to the Archangel."

Sevita said expressionlessly, and Amit spat on the ground and shoved Sevita hard.

"That's how you play, right?"

Does he think he can't understand? This guy saying something like that is an insult to them.

If even a single hair on this guy's body thinks the same thing as him when he says that, then Amit will lose!

Sevita remained expressionless.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, Amit.”

Amit let out a low growl, "I should have bitten you a long time ago to shut you up."

The Holy Blood Angel grinned defiantly and roared, but this dispelled his boredom and desire to continue having fun or start a fight.

Having witnessed the whole thing, Koswayne secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "God Emperor above," he murmured to himself.

He wasn't used to this, but it was more like a phrase with replaced keywords, and the person praying didn't feel much different about it.

He thought that perhaps most soldiers were like that, but some, like Sevita, did not believe in these things, while others were more devout.

This is... useful.

He heard the rapidly spreading news from the mouths of ordinary people and the auxiliary army, about Saint Gilles, who shone with golden light on the battlefield.

The rumors were exaggerated, but Cosway was certain that this was beyond the reach of an archangel with only a smattering of psionic knowledge.

this means……

Faith really works.

They have proven that hell and demons truly exist, and now, Coswayne begins to doubt the possibility of heaven's existence.

After all—angels really do exist.

And right before their eyes.

The archangel smiled as always, his wings emitting a faint golden light in the spacious preparation room—by the God-King! It wasn't reflected light; Koswayne was certain it was the light emanating from those wings themselves!

The archangel entered the preparation room first, and the people who were already prepared rushed forward. The archangel sat down on the sofa, looked at the people, and gestured for them to make way.

Then he spread his wings, which were stained with blood and had knotted feathers.

The people who had just dispersed instantly became fully armed and rushed to the angel's side. They combed his knotted feathers, washed away the blood scabs with warm water, and trimmed the outline of his wings.

The makeup artist bowed, and after receiving an encouraging look from the archangel, the mortal devoutly recited a verse of praise to the archangel before beginning to apply makeup to him.

Angels also like to use makeup to symbolize something; Coswayne once saw Saint Gilles' teardrop makeup.

But the archangel wouldn't draw this today; he would be more radiant and majestic.

Amit grinned, nudged Sevita with his leg again, and then happily ran over to help wax the angel's armor.

Koss heard Sevita's cold laugh.

Koss sighed inwardly, hoping the angels weren't under too much pressure.

Even if the archangel behaves perfectly.

People were still stroking the angel's fur. Koss stared at the scene, and the scene... gave him a strange sense of peace and tranquility.

But this peace was soon shattered.

A strong, pungent smell of blood, mixed with the stench of decay, filled the room.

People cried out in terror.

Almost instantly, Sevita, who was next to Koss, sprang into action. He saw Sevita, as if anticipating something, jog to another sofa and shout towards the darkness.