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

Page 384

"This tactic won't work, plan B."

Whispers came through the communication channel.

The next moment, the Pale Lord whirled around, white mist swirling around him. He rose into the air, the skull between his wings glaring angrily at Karas's back.

The white mist suddenly surged towards Karas's back.

Karas turned around and saw a dazzling gold that had appeared out of nowhere. Macardo stood there, and the Grey Knights around him were chanting prayers loudly.

"come over!"

Macado shouted, and his voice carried through the silent place. Karas felt as if he were flying, and before Karas could reach Macado and his group, Macado began to run backward, towards a place where the curtain was more stable.

At the same time, without hesitation, Makado grabbed a small Death Guard with his free hand. The little guy, as if he hadn't woken up yet, was silently bouncing around in the running old man's hand.

This action thoroughly enraged the Pale Lord. Karas watched as Mortarian flew straight towards them, his wings fluttering, light and shadow shifting, and a scythe formed from condensed mist gradually took shape in his hand—

The Grey Knight beside Makado held a book in one hand and turned to the appropriate page for the old man with the other.

Makado began to chant loudly, the ancient, warp language emanating from his mouth.

Even though Karas couldn't understand anything, in a daze, he seemed to understand... that was... that was...

That was Mortarion's real name.

The tides of the subspace receded just as they arrived at the fertilizer plant's gate, and Makado finished uttering the last syllable.

"Come here!"

As the old man drank, a huge shockwave exploded from behind them!

"boom!!!"

Vox stared in disbelief at everything before him.

As the fog dissipated, he saw a colossal presence—

By the Emperor... a lying insectoid alien...

But a certain surging presence within his soul and blood told him that he should perhaps show some respect for this being.

Vox knew emotionally what it was, but rationally he couldn't accept it.

Macardo gasped for breath, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, but it didn't help; he continued to vomit large amounts of blood.

You little brat... can't he handle you?

Only then did the Death Guard in his hand begin to struggle, the little creature struggling to wipe the blood from the old man's wounds—Macado sincerely hoped that the little creature was not infected with any kind of plague.

Great!

Chapter 453 Now is fantasy time!

【One month later】

"You can meet now."

"Imperial Regent Macardo said slowly, staring at the two Primarchs before him, who seemed to have mixed feelings about the news."

Killieman frowned.

I've heard some bad rumors. Are our brothers doing well?

Since Yax's return, the Death Guard has maintained a state of high alert and... madness.

They claimed to have found the Primarch, but Mortarion himself never uttered a single word or appeared in public.

Guilliman suspected that something had happened to Mortalian under the control of the Chaos in the warp, which was why he had been unable to show himself for so long.

Meanwhile, after the Death Guard returned to Macragge, a small flu outbreak occurred in Macragge, which could even infect Ultramarines. After what had happened before, Guilliman took this very seriously.

The Lord of Macurag personally organized the lockdown and screening, but the final result was beyond his expectations.

After conducting one-on-one screenings of the patients, Killieman discovered that 80 percent of them were not "themselves".

They share the same origin as those traitors... they are Hydra.

As the saying goes, "A fall into a pit, a thousand times wiser," and from the very beginning of the illness, Guilliman had been proactively reporting the situation to Macardo. The old man had been exhausted for a while, but his condition had recently improved.

After a moment of contemplation, Macardo finally told Killieman to control the patients, adding that the flu was likely to be beneficial to them.

In the past, Guilliman would have laughed it off, thinking the old man's words were biased and did not conform to the truth of the Empire. But now, Guilliman had accepted that perhaps there really was a "good wizard" in the warp who helped them in a way similar to that of their enemies.

He doesn't know yet that this "good wizard" is Mortarion, but that doesn't matter, he'll find out soon enough.

Angron smiled.

It seems our brother is recovering quite well?

He looked at Makado, whose spirits were finally starting to improve.

【Makado, you should relax a bit. With me and Guilliman in charge, plus the soon-to-be-recovered Mortalian, nothing major should happen anytime soon.】

Macardo gave a forced smile, but the two Primarchs were already used to this rather gloomy old politician who liked to satirize others.

"I was indeed quite relaxed—"

Makado said in a strange voice

"Thank your other brother."

As Makado spoke, as if recalling something amusing, even this seasoned politician, who rarely showed his emotions, burst into laughter.

There was nothing more pleasing to Macardo, the psionicist who had previously been called a damned psionicist by Mortalian, than witnessing Mortalian's realization that he was a psionicist.

Haha.

Whenever he thinks of this, Macardo laughs out loud from the bottom of his heart. Rarely has he experienced such pure, self-inflicted pleasure.

To prevent Mortalian's uncontrolled psionic energy from causing contamination, Macardo, along with the Death Guard, "temporarily placed" the newly born Pale Lord in the Zeroth Cell, which the Death Guard used to imprison psionic beings.

Meanwhile, the other anti-psychic devices on the Resilience were shut down or had their power reduced one by one during the month, following Makado's orders.

After all, the Deathguards couldn't banish the Mortari from the Endurance back to the warp.

Haha.

Makado laughed inwardly again.

This joy even overshadowed the sorrow that the incident in Makulag had brought him.

“You need to be mentally prepared; Mortalian lost more than just a portion of his memories,”

"Of course, I think you know that, and with your combined abilities, communicating with him shouldn't be a problem. However, I want to emphasize this beforehand—"

Makado said easily,

“Your brother has a new look. I think you can use the image of Saint Gillespie as a simple reference to imagine it.”

"Okay, let's go."

As the old man spoke, he stepped aside, and seven silent Death Guards stood behind Macado, ready to lead the two Primarchs aboard the Resilient.

Killieman and Anglon exchanged a glance, and they both saw a certain kind of fear in each other's eyes.

Even the Primarchs, with their extraordinary imaginations, would find it difficult to conceive of a "Motalian" like "Saint Gilles".

The two Primarchs walked along the corridor of the Resilient, quietly exchanging messages on their private channels.

[Unbelievable... Could it be that Mortalian now has flowing golden hair?]

Angron muttered, Saint Gilles… He simply couldn’t reconcile Saint Gilles’ handsome appearance with that of Mortalian, who, “though handsome, looked like a leper.”

The Mortarian with his long, flowing hair was the limit of what he could imagine.

Angron thought for a moment, then pictured Mortarian with his long, flowing hair, shaking it.

He'd better not think about it.

Guilliman remained silent.

[Perhaps they are sharp teeth.]

Lord Macragge said, "But I haven't paid much attention to Mortarion's fangs—he always wears a mask."

Angron realized that Killieman had also automatically skipped over the option of Mortalian possibly becoming handsome.

The Lord of Red Sand coughed awkwardly.

Okay, I mean... is it possible that Macardo is referring to Mortalian becoming... more popular, like Sanguis?

[As long as he doesn't have dark circles under his eyes, is a little chubby, his skin isn't rough from the poison gas, has fewer wrinkles, and then starts using a friendly expression—]

I really hope our brother becomes such a popular person.

Killieman said with restraint,

However, I think we should perhaps have lower expectations in this regard.

A Mortarion with a friendly emote is more intimidating than a Mortarion with flowing golden fur.

In the minds of the two Primarchs, Mortarion was the kind of person whose smile was sinister and mocking, and whose wrinkles at the corners of his eyes piled up like those of a wizard.

The two Primarchs walked and talked, and since it was a rare opportunity to see Mortarion, and Macardo had already given his guarantee that there were no problems, the atmosphere was quite relaxed.

Anglong paused slightly.

His gaze subtly swept towards the corner of the corridor, but he saw nothing. However, something must have existed there before—something very small.

They passed through countless death guards, and finally, the seven death guards leading them stopped in front of a large gate.

In front of the door, a fearless machine opened to the side.

Wisps of white mist seeped out from between the cracks in the black stone door, accompanied by frost climbing up from the side of the door.

Gilman paused, then looked at Angron, who was also silent.

Lord Macurag lowered his voice to a minimum, and asked hesitantly, with a hint of doubt in his voice.

[Psychic energy—this is psychic energy, right?]

Of course, this is...

Angron tried with difficulty to speak in a light tone,

Damn it, what the hell is Mortarion like now?

Perhaps we should take a look at Mortarion first.

The Lord of Crimson Sand revealed a friendly smile. He opened the door, his pupils dilated suddenly, and the smile froze on his lips—

【oh,】

Angron said dryly, stepping aside to let Guilliman in, and then Guilliman froze.

[Oh, they were wings.]

Upon hearing Angron's words, Mortarian, who was facing him, wore an expression of utter despair.

This has absolutely nothing to do with... the image of Saint Gilles—they're practically unrelated.

Okay, except for those wings.

Yay! That's all!

Chapter 454 The Old Man's Evil Intentions

Where is he? What should he do—and who is he?

This is the Resilience, he should come and see his brother, and that was a... a Mortarion.

Correction: A Mortarian.

Guilliman instinctively wanted to take a deep breath to calm his heart, which he thought would no longer experience joy or sorrow. But in reality, the warp always has something tough to show this Lord of Macragge.

But he noticed the white mist filling the room, so he politely and awkwardly stopped what he was doing.

Mortarian stood right in front of them, and he was truly...wow...oh my god...By the Emperor.

This is really hard to describe.

If Guilliman were to describe it, he would say that, first and foremost, standing before them was a human being.

Guilliman fell silent.