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

Page 358

However, he would never know that the first legion to arrive in Macragge would not be the World Eaters.

Guilliman took a sip of tea, pondering that once the Ultramarines' navigators recovered, he would first send troops to Terra. In any case, the extinction of the Star Torch was still an unimaginable thing.

But at this moment, Killieman did indeed lack sufficient intelligence to assess the situation.

Regardless, Guilliman thought that the Ultramarines wouldn't be able to undertake long-distance voyages in the short term, so what he could do now was clear.

He needed to first calm the people who were terrified by the galactic anomaly, as well as the psionicists who were wailing in pain.

Guilliman sighed almost imperceptibly, lamenting the lack of anti-psy talent like Hades among the Ultramarines.

Emperor...

Guilliman thought, "Please grant me a professional anti-psychic."

He looked up, his azure eyes reflecting the clear sky of Macurag.

--------

Bar is burning.

"Shoot those sons of bitches out!!!"

The Holy Blood Angel Amit roared, his spittle hissing as it sprayed onto the microphone inside his helmet.

That son of a bitch was breathing hot air at him, and without hesitation, Amit swung his empty bomb pistol at the monster's head.

One! Two! Three!

Blood splattered onto Amit's helmet along with fragments of bone, and the helmet immediately stopped being called "Blood and Skull."

Amit kicked the still writhing, twitching lump of rotten flesh back, hurled the explosive pistol in his hand at it, and then roared as he drew his barbed skinning knife from his waist.

"We will not betray the blood of Saint Gillespie!! Charge with me, you son of a bitch!!!"

He was the first to charge out as the company commander of the Fifth Company of the Holy Blood Angels, crashing into the Great Demon Khorne's formation like a raging bull.

His curses of "son of a bitch" and his battle cries of "unworthy of the blood of Saint Gilles" even drowned out the shouts of those offering skulls.

Bloodthirsty, enraged figures clashed among the great demons, their blood staining their already vibrant armor. Behind Amit, the Holy Blood Angels of the Fifth Company also fought bravely against the great demons.

For a moment, the communication channels of these Holy Blood Angels were filled with the roars and howls of the warriors.

Amit chopped off the giant demon head that looked like it had four hangings on its head with a single blow. He then used the knife to push the hanging head aside. The roars coming from the communication channel made him frown.

Among them, one soldier's roar stood out; he no longer shouted the glorious battle cry, but instead let out a frenzied, ear-piercing scream.

Of all times!

Damn it, thirsty for blood!

Enraged, Amit plunged another knife into the chest of the demon that charged at him, roaring as his commands echoed through the channel.

"John, come here!! You fucking come here!!!"

The Blood Angel known as John was currently grabbing a great demon haphazardly and banging his head against the demon's head. The demon was clearly incapacitated, but John continued to frantically headbutt it.

"Come here, John!! Or I'll fucking kill you!!!"

John turned his head sharply, ripped off his helmet, and the helmet, which had been thrown off by its owner, thudded to the ground.

Beneath the blindingly beautiful sunset, John's pale face was handsome yet contorted, blood flowing from beneath his curly blond hair—

It was like the blood slowly flowing from the corner of his mouth.

John bared his fangs, which were excessively long and sharp, even for a blood angel.

He slowly took a few steps forward, then suddenly began to sprint towards Amit at the forefront!

Amit, who was confronting a Khorne demon a meter taller than himself, let out a furious growl.

"Come over here and see clearly who you're hitting!"

However, John rushed towards the nearest person without hesitation, Amit. Amit cursed under his breath, then roared as he reached out and grabbed the great demon's arm.

"drink!!!"

He stumbled backward with the Great Demon, and the next moment, John roared and pounced on the Great Demon that Amit had pulled down and covered him.

Amit cursed as he felt the writhing demon, who was so unlucky he might as well have died, convulse. He plunged the knife in his hand straight into the demon's abdomen.

The Great Demon haphazardly gnawed at Amit's helmet with his teeth, and he could hear the clear sound of the armor breaking.

Blood flowed down, but it wasn't Amit's; the great demon was bleeding. This was John's doing.

Soon after, the great demon fell silent.

Amit shoved the Great Demon's corpse aside and, cursing, hacked down the blind creature that charged at him again.

He looked up and saw John's figure disappear deeper into the array of great demons, blood and fragments of his power helmet splattering everywhere. He heard a beast-like roar—

But it wasn't emitted by those monsters.

Amit removed his shattered mask with one hand, spat blood at the great demon on the ground, and blood flowed from the places where the demon had bitten him.

"Continue the attack! Maintain formation! Use melee weapons as much as possible!!!"

He roared, determined to ignore the poor bastard, but then, the sound of wind from high above came from behind him.

"grown ups!"

"We will live up to the blood of Saint Gilles!!!"

His comrades behind him shouted, and Amit knew who was coming, of course. He casually brushed away the bits of flesh obscuring his shoulder armor badge and continued charging forward.

A huge, rapidly moving shadow fell upon him, and in a daze, Amit seemed to feel a slight, soft touch on his face—

The next moment, an archangel descended from the sky!

The true angel of wrath descended from the sky, landing in the very center of the enemy ranks. The immense impact of its descent instantly overturned the great demons near the landing point!

The angel raised his golden spear high, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. The mighty demons were now nothing more than laughable puppets beside the Primarch. The spear swept across the battlefield with a sharp, rustling sound.

A golden arc illuminated the angel's body, then its wings fluttered, and the sudden burst of circular blood mist couldn't even catch up with the swift angel's last white feather.

As the great demon Khorne descended from the heavens, the archangel Saint Gilles was now like a true god of death.

Blood and heads splattered everywhere. In an instant, the Khorne's Great Demon array, which had just been locked in combat with the Fifth Company, was reduced to a desolate pool of blood. The severed limbs steamed and emitted blood mist, twitching on the muddy and blood-stained ground.

When the last great demon's head fell to the ground, the angel laid down his spear.

The wings that had been flapping throughout the battle slowly closed, and blood flowed down from the white feathers, without staining them crimson.

The angel lowered his eyes, and Amit followed the gaze of his original self, seeing John's barely discernible corpse.

The archangel blinked, then raised his head to look at Amit. His crimson eyes churned with countless complex emotions that Amit could not decipher.

A dry smile appeared on Amit's lips.

“Father, this is the optimal solution. I’m sorry.”

The archangel left no word, a fierce wind arose, and Saint Gilles' wings took flight.

He needed to immediately go to other battlefields to support his offspring.

Amit and his Fifth Company were left standing in a pool of blood.

Amit's facial muscles twitched as he strode forward to the deepest part of the corpses.

He saw a single white feather on the mangled corpse.

Amit reached out and fiercely wiped the blood from his face.

"damn it,"

He cursed and continued to command the Fifth Company in preparation for battle. Ever since the day the Milky Way suddenly cracked open, many blood-red monsters had inexplicably sprung up on Baal, and they would come up and slash at people.

The incident happened suddenly; due to the abrupt loss of communication, most people had no idea what had happened.

Baal was immediately engulfed in the melee.

Unable to contact Terra or Warmaster, they are now isolated and helpless.

4.2k, great!

Then the group was created, as shown in the introduction.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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Chapter 422: Knowing the Small Things

[Star Ring Above Barbaros, Space Marine Medical Quarter]

Death Guardian Pharmacist Io is standing in front of the lab table, preparing a new batch of implantation drugs.

By order of Legion Commander Mortarian, the entire Barbarus star system was placed on high alert and a large-scale conscription was immediately initiated.

At this very moment, countless planets that had previously made pacts with the Death Guard are transporting ships full of recruit candidates toward Barbarus.

Other planets offered countless reserves of resources to the Death Guard.

In the world of metalworking, factories roar as weapons and ammunition flow from assembly lines that seem to stretch as far as the eye can see.

Under the leadership of the Death Guard, the productivity of the Barbarus star system has now been pushed to its limit.

Moreover, after the Nicaea Conference, the Lord of Death, Mortarion, personally returned to Barbarus to guard the city, unusually taking charge of many matters related to the construction of the star system every day.

From a distance, Mortarion's leadership appeared to harbor even deeper resentment.

But this is not something that the apothecary Io can get involved in. As one of the first people conscripted from Barbarossa, he has now become a qualified apothecary and has begun to take charge of things such as new recruit surgery.

Previously, he had also participated in Commander Hades' emergency rescue and post-operative recovery.

Unfortunately, that easy-going commander is no longer with the Death Guard.

As Yi thought of this, he paused in his work of preparing the reagents.

As if sensing something, Io put down the test tube, turned his head, and let his hand fall naturally to the position of the explosive gun at his waist.

"Io!"

A familiar voice rang out, and Io let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. He spoke, his eyes filled with utter contempt, telling him to get lost.

"Lena, you shouldn't be here right now. Lord Mortalian is making urgent dispatches. You should report to the Endurance."

Lena sidled closer with a grin, his eyes gleaming as he stared at Io's lab table.

"Aren't you leaving?"

He spoke abruptly, and Io sighed. He picked up the test tube again, but it wasn't the same one he had before.

"I have to take charge of the new recruit surgery after Barbarossa, so I can't leave."

Iran and Russia said seriously,

“If you still want to joke around with those little brats, then you should leave, Lena.”

It has to be said that after Mortarian banned the Death Guard's lame jokes in the competition, Lena, who had won nine consecutive championships, was disappointed for a while, but afterwards, he went on to harass the recruits.

Lena sighed, and Io heard a faint sound.

Then--

Io's pupils dilated sharply, as if foreshadowing something. In the final moment, he turned around and saw the blade hurtling towards his neck.

Without hesitation, Io hurled the test tube in his hand at Lena. The test tube shattered, and the liquid inside hissed.

A sharp scream erupted as Io clutched his bleeding neck, turned on the communication channel, and shouted for reinforcements.

At the same time, Io picked up the machete at his waist and brandished the blade at Lena.

"What are you doing, Lena?"

Io asked, gasping for breath, only to be met with an empty response on the communication channel, followed by Lena's loud laughter.

Lena laughed loudly, his eyes reflecting Io's face.

He recalled the time they had fought side by side, the camaraderie forged in countless battles, and his mind trembled with pain.

But at this moment—they are nothing more than stumbling blocks preventing him from remaining loyal to the empire.

The Death Guard will betray you, and he is the one who will stop them from falling into the abyss!

"Long live Hydra!!!"