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

Page 372

Angron made Killieman realize that the person standing in front of him now was the real Angron.

Angron dodged Guilliman's short sword again, and Guilliman immediately swung it, which Angron blocked with his battle axe.

The deafening clang of metal clashing echoed as both Primarchs stared intently at each other.

Normally, Angron would feel his blood boiling with excitement because of the battle.

But not now. The battle between the Primarchs did not arouse any fighting spirit in him. He was unusually clear-headed and relaxed.

Perhaps he was still savoring the taste of the strategic retreat he had just experienced.

Angron stared into Killieman's eyes.

[Killiman—Think of Motarian, he's still waiting for you in Makurag!]

Angron roared,

And how did Hades teach you to recognize chaos back then?!

Killieman's eye twitched.

He briefly detached himself from the inertia of a certain kind of fighting—fighting, observing, analyzing, fighting, changing—a routine he had repeated for so long that he no longer invested much effort in it.

It's like a machine on an assembly line.

This was the method Guilliman had discovered that best reduced his anger and fighting spirit.

At first, thousands of demonic troops emerged from the blood mist. Robert Guilliman fought against them, becoming exceptionally belligerent and angry, but he always kept his emotions under control before the red lines he had set for himself.

Time stretched on endlessly, perhaps because the illusions Killieman faced changed after the other side realized that this would never be enough to defeat him.

He saw the Emperor, Horus, Korachos, his Lady Yoton, and that bastard who killed his foster father…

He saw everything, logical and absurd, all the people he knew and didn't know. He fell into one illusion after another, which tried to defeat Guilliman with words.

It usually starts with a scene that's hard to let go of, followed by an argument, throwing out those unacceptable facts, and then a fight, yelling at Guilliman as they fight, shattering his understanding step by step.

Killieman has already summarized a template for this.

At first, he knew it was a hallucination, and he tried to argue with the person opposite him, Robert Guilliman shouting out all sorts of logical and reasoned words.

Guilliman pondered and argued.

He proved to the other side that creatures and races do not depend on war for survival, and that, under certain conditions, the probability of war breaking out in this world would be reduced to an extremely low level.

But his enemies did not respond with direct confrontation; they bypassed that and instead attacked Robert Guilliman himself directly, rather than the views he upheld.

They simply wanted to provoke Robert Guilliman's anger and drive him to madness.

Guilliman could feel his energy being helplessly worn down. Perhaps he could stand and fight for another thousand years, but would this illusion last for a thousand years?

In those hallucinations, Robert Guilliman nearly fell into the abyss, futilely clinging to Euton's corpse while listening to Coz's broken, sharp laughter and mockery.

They urged him to give up, to give up, shattering Robert Guilliman's underlying logic with one illogical "fact" after another.

Finally, after countless attempts at persuasion from "Angron," Robert Guilliman, expressionless, stretched out his hands and slapped them hard against his ears!

His whole world buzzed.

Guilliman raised his sword and launched an attack on the illusion!

As long as he doesn't listen, he will never be corrupted.

Robert Guilliman's battle returned to its beginning: fight, observe, analyze, fight, change. Whenever the blood on his ear dried, Guilliman would repeat the process, destroying his own hearing.

Logically, since he had lost his hearing and could not hear sounds, all the words of persuasion would be useless. And with his mind undisturbed by external factors, Guilliman believed he would not waver.

If Guilliman "heard" those voices, then he was in a hallucination, and Robert Guilliman would be even less swayed.

He shut down his thoughts, fighting solely on the Primarch's instincts. He saw the slowly rising sea of ​​blood, its crimson waves crashing against him—

But Robert Guilliman would only follow the process he had initially set for himself: fight, observe, analyze, fight, change. He executed it and avoided as much as possible the accumulation of anger as the cycle continued.

In the end, all he remembered was that he had to fight, observe, analyze, fight, and change—those distant, beautiful memories, which had been distorted and exploited countless times, were long gone.

【Killiman!】

Angron's roar exploded countless times, and Guilliman knew his hearing had returned. He quickly retreated, trying to disrupt his hearing again.

A hand suddenly reached out and grabbed Killieman's hand.

Guilliman glanced sharply at Angron—something was wrong?! In his calculations, 0.003 milliseconds wasn't enough for Angron to get close?!

The sound of breaking bones rang out. Guilliman swiftly swung his sword, but the blade missed its mark. Angron stared at him and let out another roar.

[Killiman, how did Hades teach you to identify chaos?!]

Hades.

Guilliman's long-dormant thoughts began to stir. As he retrieved his memories, he suddenly realized that there was only one person he knew who had not appeared in Guilliman's angry recollections.

It's Hades.

Angron grinned as he watched Gilliman's attack speed slow down; he had guessed right.

Hades is someone who would never appear in the illusion.

Those cowards are afraid to mention him, afraid to let people remember him; they want them, they want humanity to forget him.

But for those of them who knew Hades, it was too difficult to forget such a memorable person.

Who is Hades?

Killieman spoke in a hoarse voice, staring incredulously at Angron, and slowed his attack frequency.

Angron voluntarily put down his axe, spreading his arms out as if trying something.

You know him, Guilliman.

His eyes flickered with leaping firelight, and Angron felt a stinging pain in his brain without even noticing. It seemed that he had not yet reached the "brain-using period" that Hades had instructed him to go through.

Angron wanted to try something, just like he had tried a tactical retreat.

He took a deep breath, sensing Robert Guilliman's emotions.

Robert began to think again, an instinct of the Lord of Macragge. His multi-threaded, complex thought process kicked in, and he began to vaguely recall the past: Who is Hades?

Robert's instincts saved him.

As Guilliman focused on his memories rather than resisting his anger, Angron touched Guilliman's emotions and began to pull him away from the raging sea of ​​blood.

He succeeded.

Recommend books

Game modeler Sean travels into the game he created and becomes the villainous boss.

So, do you want to reach the center of the world above the wasteland?

No, I want to solve all the bosses, darken all the positive characters, and make the world more chaotic.

"I'm not extreme at all, and I never play with human nature - I'm just a little villain, not a devil who confuses people's hearts."

Chapter 439 This Mortarian is unexpectedly cautious

Is there no news from the support team either?

Mortarian spoke slowly, and the Ultramariner before him gave him an affirmative answer.

Mortalian pondered for a moment the possibility that Angron and Guilliman had died on the World Eater warship.

Finally, the Lord of Death concluded that they were not dead, nor... corrupted.

If they die or fall into depravity, then at least...

Mortarian glanced discreetly at Gage, the Ultramariner standing in front of him.

Then at least their offspring will react.

【…】

Although there are no World Eaters here, Mortarion believes that Angron will not be a big problem.

If Angron still doesn't have the proper understanding and concept of chaos... then Hades saved him in vain.

No, Mortarian was certain that anyone would become wary of Chaos given enough time with Hades.

Even if they don't actively seek out trouble with Chaos and the Warp, with Hades around, those troubles will come to you.

As if recalling something amusing, Mortarian chuckled softly, a self-deprecating recollection of how he had been terrified by the hallucinations.

And the culprit, Hades.

Even now, that unforgettable illusion is still etched deep in Mortalian's soul, as well as... that word that was sealed away layer by layer.

Mortarian couldn't remember what the word was, so Makado used psionic energy to force him to forget it.

This was the only thing Macardo did that didn't offend Mortarian.

No, it should be the second item.

The first thing that came to Motalian's mind was that Makado was on his way to Macurag.

He hoped the Imperial Regent would arrive quickly so he could understand the situation clearly—who the enemy was, who the friend was, and where the enemy was.

Then he went to put the enemy to sleep.

Mortarian remained silent, calculating once more the fates of Angron and Guilliman; it seemed they wouldn't die anytime soon.

At least for the Mortarion now, this is a good thing.

Although it has been a week.

The Death Guard has been deployed. Under Mortarion's orders, most of the Death Guard and the entire Zero Company went to the exploded spaceport to provide support, while another part landed in Macragge.

Without Robert Guilliman's personal orders, the Death Guard could not obtain the authority to guard Macurag, and Mortarion silently allowed the Death Guard to be stationed near the palace.

He always felt that something was about to happen.

What could it be?

Mortarian thought, recalling Guilliman, that dullard who never seemed to understand Mortarian's vigilance, but Mortarian would prove him right.

For Mortarian, there are only two things this world does.

Attack him, and prepare to attack him.

Mortarian remained silent. He waved for Gage to leave, then picked up the star map on the table and began to examine it.

Mortalian has recently been trying to apply numerology to warp navigation, as he's had enough of the useless navigators who constantly cover their eyes and wail in despair.

He tried to figure out where the original location was.

Now, Mortarian knows the location of Macurag, and he can also observe a massive rift in the Milky Way.

The bad news is that, since Mortarian doesn't know the exact location of the crack or its three-dimensional tilt, the crack is of almost no help to his deductions.

Mortalian needs another star to provide positioning.

……

Unfortunately, he can't meet him now.

Footsteps sounded, and Mortarian put down her worksheets. Yodon had arrived, followed by her Ultramariner guards.

Yodon walked briskly to Motalian's temporary office in Macurag.

The mortal woman looked very tired, and Mortarian knew what she was worried about—he had already advised her about it four days ago.

To put it simply and powerfully, Primarchs are not creatures that die easily; even if thrown into space, they can still bounce around freely, though they might get a little cold.

And Yodon didn't seem to be complaining to Mortalian again; she was a strong woman, something Mortalian admired.

He had seen too many people break down because of the loss of loved ones or friends, to the point that they were unable to continue fighting.

“Makula has been rather unstable lately.”

【Um. 】

Mortarian grunted in agreement. A spaceport had exploded over the heads of these pampered Macragans, and their Primarchs were still missing. Mortarian could imagine their panic and helplessness.

They were treated so well that they were afraid of death.

"I hope to step forward and comfort people soon. I plan to visit a hospital to comfort children and veterans."

Yodon said, and Mortarian looked at Yodon, whose face was covered in fine wrinkles.