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

Page 381

The emperor glanced at the screen, paused for a moment,

"Go to the palace archives then; I've already finalized three different plans."

Hades uttered a sound of disgust, saying that Macado was always the one who did his job well, and even now he declared that he would carry out the task diligently.

As the Emperor and Hades were speaking, the camera zoomed in, revealing several passages inscribed on the tombstone in both High Gothic and Barbalusian languages.

Hades, a great Barbarian, a true man.

Hadeston paused, his hand holding the sunflower seeds hovering in mid-air. The image remained there, playing the usual polite phrases used by servitude personnel, phrases that could be used at a fraudster's funeral as well as an old lady's.

“Alright…” Hades said, he could feel the Emperor’s amusement-filled psychic gaze fixed on him.

"I didn't expect them to have such a high opinion of me."

Makado frowned.

“You should have a clear understanding of yourself. In fact, if this is really your funeral, I think it’s a bit too simple—it’s far from enough.”

Hades continued eating sunflower seeds.

"Old Ma, you don't understand Death Guard."

He says,

"For the Death Guard, who is not good with words, this is the highest praise. I doubt that even if Mortarian came, he would not be able to get the titles of 'Great' and 'True Man'."

Makado gave a fake laugh.

“Motalian—you mean that inhuman guy? How could he possibly get a second opinion?”

The emperor, intrigued, spoke up, interrupting the two.

Hades,

He asked with great interest,

"You should leave yourself an epitaph—what would you like to have engraved on it?"

Hades stared at the Emperor.

“I remember someone had already prepared their burial arrangements—I'll listen to you first.”

"No words."

The emperor answered crisply and decisively.

"Alright, it's your turn."

Given that he was the emperor, his answer could be true or it could simply be a joke to Hades. But because he was the emperor, Hades could not go further to verify whether it was true or false.

Hades stopped talking, thought for a moment,

"I'm writing this ad—ad space for rent. Interested parties please contact the Death Guard Legion."

Makado, who was drinking water, suddenly coughed violently. The Emperor and Hades turned their gazes to the old man. Golden light shone, and Makado sat down properly again, looking speechless.

The emperor smiled and looked at Hades.

"A novel perspective, but I'm hoping for a normal answer."

Hades was silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"When you see this message, you've already stepped on me. Please move your foot."

Makado roared in anger.

"I now believe that the best thing you could have done was to leave no last words or epitaph before you died, because I would have had to keep your words hidden afterward no matter what!"

Hades laughed.

"Old Ma, what are you planning to write for me?"

Macado took a deep breath; he was truly beginning to think about this matter. Hades and the Emperor exchanged a glance; this was their innate fate of being busy.

“First of all,” Makado said.

“I will respect the origins and legion you value, even though you should rightfully belong to the Empire. I will prioritize inscribing the glorious titles you earned within the Death Guard.”

"The cafeteria's giant devourer?"

Hades asked tentatively, but Makado rolled his eyes at him and didn't say anything.

"Then came the titles bestowed by the Emperor, and then, depending on the relationship between the Mechanicus and the Empire at the time, we selectively listened to the Mechanicus's proposals."

"Don't,"

Hades waved his hand.

"You can't put [Om Messiah] after [The Great Devourer of the Dining Hall]."

Makado looked like he was about to explode, so Hades skillfully changed the subject, pointing to the screen with the hand he was holding a bag of potato chips.

"—Look, Guilliman has appeared, and so has Angron."

Hades' words began to falter, his tone shifting from relaxed to serious as he frowned and stared at the screen.

"...Angron...something's not right?"

After spending several days with Angron, Hades realized that Angron shouldn't be like this.

Makado gave a forced, insincere smile.

"Because he knows you're not dead."

? !

Hades was shocked; he stared at Macado.

"...You tricked him?"

"He's just too smart."

Macado smiled rather slyly.

"He has only just come out of that state of anger and is in a state of unbridled perception of his own abilities. He needs to know that this state is wrong—at the very least, he needs to be more careful in this regard."

"what,"

Hades spoke,

"I understand, Angron was trying to gauge your emotions?"

Makado ignored Hades and continued staring at the screen. Seeing that Makado was ignoring him, Hades got bored and also continued watching the video with his head turned upside down.

He saw Guilliman standing before his tombstone, his face filled with grief, unable to find peace for a long time. It was the first time Hades had seen Guilliman so sorrowful and weary, and there was a rare sight of snow-white hair in his blond hair.

Guilliman nodded to Gara, who returned the gesture briefly. Then, Mrs. Eudon, who was standing next to Guilliman, placed three white flowers in front of the tombstone.

Gilman gave a brief introduction to the flower, which Hades found uninteresting; it was something that grew only on the steepest cliffs of Macurag and only bloomed after stormy weather.

Lord Macragge seemed to want to say something, but the atmosphere on the Resilience was too heavy, too silent, and he appeared unable to raise his voice to express his deepest apologies and most heartfelt promises.

Finally, Guilliman could only whisper a few words to Galo.

Hades opened his mouth, and in those few words, Guilliman promised the Death Guard quite a few benefits.

Perhaps Guilliman was also trying to atone for his mistakes, which led to the Lord of Death's "enlightenment."

Next up was Angron, and it was the same routine. Kahn, who was next to the Lord of Red Sand, stepped forward and placed two small glass bottles that looked like sand.

Hades identified one bottle as the red sand from the arena... and the other white one as something else.

As if hearing Hades's question, the Emperor stretched out his hand, his palm holding a speck of white sand.

Their eyes met, and Hades instantly understood that this was the sacrifice Angron had given him.

His nose told him that this was—

White sugar!

Hades burst into laughter.

"I understand what Anglong means. He knows I'm not dead and is waiting to invite me to dinner later!"

The emperor smiled and withdrew his hand.

"...Number twelve."

The emperor spoke softly, then shook his head.

“My lord, you don’t need to be so hard on yourself.”

Makado immediately spoke up, and Hades quickly followed suit.

"That's right, Old Huang, you see, even if you don't take care of him, he's still alive and well."

Perhaps it was the fact that Hades' words implied that the Emperor had successfully gotten something for free that inspired him, and the Emperor was indeed no longer sad—or perhaps he hadn't been that sad before.

The emperor clapped his hands and stood up.

"I'm going to talk to Angron."

He spoke resolutely, as if he had decided to launch a great expedition today.

The Emperor turned his head and stared at Hades.

"You are not allowed to go."

Just as Hades was about to stand up, he obediently sat back down, enjoying the daily life of the royal family's loving father and filial son.

Seeing that the Emperor was about to leave, Macado also got up and followed. The happy movie-watching event instantly turned into Hades' daily routine of eating snacks alone. Hades simply held three buckets of popcorn in one hand and frantically fast-forwarded with the other.

It's not very interesting. This is usually all there is to a formal funeral. Mortarion isn't there, and Hades won't be able to see the Lord of Death suddenly go mad.

Hades watched for a while as Guilliman showed his sadness, then looked at Angron standing beside Guilliman, his expression a mixture of tension and eventual sadness.

Angron, thank you for your hard work.

Fast forward, and then fast forward again.

The representatives of the Mechanical Cult arrived. One of the techies got so excited that he caused an electrical leak that burned through the motherboard. He was carried off the stage by his companion, who looked like he was about to have an epileptic seizure.

Hades decided to treat the Mechanicus a little better.

The memorial service was over, but the video was still going on; on the contrary, Hades realized that the progress bar still had a long way to go.

Hades frowned, realizing that things were not so simple.

People left, and the candles went out one by one in the teardrops, plunging the entire empty hall into complete darkness, with only faint white mist drifting by.

Creak—the side door opened, and a scarlet light shone in the darkness.

Hades straightened up and saw Pasteur, along with the foundry workers and the technical sergeants who stood in a circle around his tombstone, bowing their heads in mourning.

A few minutes later, they quietly left and placed a universal Phillips head screw, a common tool used by technical sergeants, in front of Hades' tombstone.

Hades stared at it for a while and finally determined that the screw only looked like a screw and was actually some kind of pastry.

About half an hour later, the second group of people crept in. This time they were not Space Marines, but the Zero Company. The Soulless Ones kept vigil for Hades for a while, and then quietly left.

They laid out a pile of white stuff, which couldn't possibly be white sugar anymore; Hades speculated that it was the ashes of a psionicist.

Okay... he can eat the remaining psionic energy in the ashes.

Ten minutes later, Hades' political cadets of the Death Guard entered. From their shoulder armor, Hades could tell that they were all doing quite well and had achieved considerable political status within the Death Guard.

After this group left, a handwritten book appeared at Hades' grave.

……

Hades watched silently. His tombstone was bustling with activity, with a constant stream of visitors, yet they all managed to avoid bumping into each other. There were even people of different statuses who came to pay their respects twice! What was going on?

Auxiliary troops, Barbalusian Death Guards, Galaspaese, mess hall logistics, sages, command center, apothecaries...

Hades felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the densely packed offerings that had already been laid out.

For the first time, he directly realized how popular he was.

Even though Mortarion sealed away most of the legends about Hades, those who witnessed Hades' "glory" were not yet dead. There were Galapasians who came specifically because of his policies, or new legions who had never seen him but simply wanted to pay homage to the hero.

Thinking about it this way, Hades realized that the internal classification of the Death Guard was quite complex.

As the progress bar neared its end, silence finally fell over his grave.

Hades let out a long sigh of relief. He felt distressed looking at the ever-increasing number of offerings, the fact that the recipients had not received them—this inexplicably frustrated him.

A tiny flame appeared, followed by a muffled sound.