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

Page 386

Makado was practically laughing himself silly; after all, he was a psionicist, not a warp creature.

This is a sad story, but Macardo will only laugh.

Mortarian's face darkened.

He will attack me.

He explained to Anglongkiliman that it was Makado who told him that.

[Unforgettable, unmentionable, ineffable.]

Mortarian remained silent for a long time.

Unless I wish to destroy myself.

The even sadder news is that he may not be able to withstand the current unconscious rampage, drifting through the dark domain in the warp.

In a way, Mortarion should thank the four gods, who are now doing their best to keep the Dark Realm pinned to Kadia, allowing it to leak out only slightly when summoned.

...He's just asking for his own destruction.

Angron took a deep breath.

This sounds very sad.

But at least we got some good news: he's not dead, right?

Guilliman swallowed hard.

This is good news, but I mean, on the Endurance, his tombstone... that should be...

He and Yoton even offered flowers, which gave it a certain aesthetic appeal, like offering sacrifices to the living.

Mortarian let out a deep sigh.

【I have no idea,】

For the first time, the Lord of Death spoke candidly, and after everything he had gone through, especially after Macado's month-long memory recovery therapy, he seemed to have become more sincere.

All I know is that we need to go to the battlefield—right there, where he fell.

[...as long as there is even one chance...]

【Then what? 】

Angron stared intently at Mortarian.

[...Macado didn't tell me the rest.]

Motalian said, stating it succinctly,

But I sensed other beings like us there.

They were there, giving him a glimmer of hope.

Mortalian's gaze drifted blankly into the distance.

After this... I should thank them.

His gaze shifted to Killieman and Anglon, sluggishly.

Just like you.

Angronton stayed.

Brother, we've slowed you down.

Mortarian stared at him, and finally,

【you're right. 】

Mortarian spoke again, his words crisp and clear.

You should know more about warp space. I think... Makado would be happy to teach you, just as he taught me.

Motalian took a few more breaths, and after the seventh, he spoke, opening his arms.

I am trying to revert to my original form. I will go out when Makado deems me safe from unintentionally harming mortals.

[You too may call upon me—the Pale Lord—by calling upon me seven times through death, and I will bestow my power.]

Motari settled in.

But I would prefer you to call upon... the Emperor, or that person; they are effective, far more powerful than we imagine.

Mortarian turned and sat back down, staring at the two visitors through the darkness and white mist.

That's all. I still exist and will continue to exist. Thank you for visiting.

Having received the hint to leave, Anglon and Gilliman couldn't linger any longer. They exchanged glances, exchanged a few pleasantries and words of concern, and then disappeared back into the corridor behind the door.

The black stone gate slammed shut.

Motalian sat there, motionless, like an insect perched on a branch.

After a long while, a rustling sound rose from the mist.

The smaller Death Guards emerged, spontaneously gathering around Mortalian, some even trying to pull him up by his cloak.

Mortarion bent down and lowered his hands, letting the two fallen small Death Guards stand up. He casually stared at the two small Death Guards in his hands who were tilting their heads and looking at him.

[...They didn't realize I didn't recognize them, did they?]

Mortarian remained silent.

Who is Saint Gilles?

He said, muttering to himself,

[Makado...that damned...the old man definitely didn't tell me everything; he deliberately told me to compare him to alien humans.]

That's it! Great!

Chapter 455 The Other Side of Losing

Macardo coughed twice, then slammed his scepter on the floor with a dull thud. The black stone gate in front of him opened, revealing a crack.

Mortarian remained seated behind him, silently staring at the old man.

Can you see over there?

Macado asked, shoving aside a small Death Guard that tried to approach him.

It’s very difficult.

In the dim fog, a hissing sound rang out, like the sound of insects rubbing their wings.

A scar, enough to pierce any soul, ran there; I couldn't gaze at it for long.

Macado paused, then once again shoved the little Death Guard that had come closer away with his foot. This time it didn't move, standing there looking up at Macado.

The old man sighed softly.

"...They were indeed enraged...that was the real battlefield."

Two bright yellow dots in the white mist narrowed.

[Didn't you say there were at least three powerful legions on that side? Or are you worried about the Corruption?]

Macardo reached out and pulled his hat down, hiding himself back in the shadow of the hood.

"You know what I'm talking about, Pale Lord."

Makado paused.

"If you want to be more secure, then you should try using your new abilities."

"At the very least, we need to hold this place and stabilize our rear."

"...Then, you can try something else."

I will.

A hoarse voice rang out, and the silent black figure vanished into the mist.

Makado sighed. The storm hadn't subsided, making it difficult to find their bearings and set sail. Should they wait for the rekindling of the Star Torch—or, another miracle?

"Stay a while before you leave."

The old man suddenly spoke again.

"To maintain regional stability, Guilliman plans to establish a temporary autonomous state, and he intends to make you the War Marshal..."

"...You need to at least show your face."

There was no response. Macado stared at the little Death Guard at his feet. The little guy had stopped after failing to climb onto Macado on his second attempt and was now standing there staring at him.

Not interested!

The little guy screamed.

------------

General Zhan.

A beautiful word that represents power, responsibility, the submission of billions, and the dominion over countless stars...

But these are not the most important things.

Most importantly, it represents his trust in the chosen one.

But the lion knows that true trust needs no reward.

Leon Johnson stood with his head held high, the lion standing silently at the bow of the Unyielding Truth, the glow of an exploding star slowly flowing from the porthole to his feet.

The dark angels, who were originally lingering near the Midnight Lord, preparing to guard against and judge the Eighth Legion, encountered some minor difficulties in this star system.

This was supposed to be a casual act of redress, in a galaxy of moderate size, with countless industrial planets and a vast casting world.

But the starlight went out just as they began to wield the sword of war.

Then, madness descended.

Perhaps any Primarch would be confused and driven mad by what he saw, realized, and thought about after seeing all this.

But he is Leon Johnson.

Thus, after the fleet was reduced by a quarter, the Icarus Protocol was activated, and a star in a potentially habitable system was detonated,

The Dark Angel has once again become the Lion's sword, even though the blade is worn, stained with blood, and reeks of foul stench.

The sound of light footsteps rang out, and the lion knew it was Coswayne without turning around.

"Father, the fleet is ready to set sail again."

Have they found my brother?

"According to the information from the Surveillance Matrix, there is an 83 percent probability that the Midnight Lord of the Eighth Legion's final warp jump is heading towards Baal."

"but,"

Koswayne paused.

"According to the prediction, their voyage should not be too smooth. The monitoring matrix detected other psionic fluctuations and headed straight for the Eighth Legion."

The lion's eyes calmly reflected a blazing galaxy, where billions of lives would be reduced to ashes. Any creature with a conscience would hesitate and waver, but the lion would not.

Because he knew it was the right thing to do.

Get ready!

Leon said,

If my brother had suffered the same fate as me... then I think we could have a trial.

He doesn't think Conrad Coz will be able to weather this storm.

Now all hope is gone, the starlight has been extinguished, the emperor, the war general—all have vanished. Chaos is everywhere, but thankfully, the lion never relies on those battles.

He fights only for loyalty.

--------

I want to see Conrad Coates.

Phoenix bent down, his long, silvery-white hair cascading over Severta's shoulder armor, while Severta's dark eyes stared unblinkingly at Fugen.