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

Page 345

At the same time, Fernus spotted Peturabo.

Amidst the chaos and confusion of the battlefield, Fernus's world went blank for a brief moment, leaving only the buzzing sound in his mind.

Peturabo... was standing there.

The Lord of Steel was standing there, right beside Vashtor, shoulder to shoulder with the monster.

Perturabo had grown even larger; he was not originally a tall Primarch, but now Fernus was certain that Perturabo's size had surpassed his own.

Perturabo wore a brand-new Terminator suit, which was wrapped with twisted cables similar to those of Vashtor, and dazzling white arcs of electricity rose around him. Bright yellow lights shone in his eyes.

He has become... different.

Fernús stared at Peturab, and Peturab stared back at him, then Peturab's lips curled into a mocking laugh.

My brother,

He said the sound came from all directions, and Finus realized with astonishment and nausea that it was coming from the mouths of every steel warrior.

Long time no see. You're still so willing to be a tool in someone else's hands.

I have nothing to talk to a traitor!

Fernus roared, staring angrily at Perturabo, his precision-engineered backpack unfurling countless deep cannon barrels.

What did you do to the Iron Warriors?! How did you treat them?!

Fenus angrily rebuked Perturabo, his words accompanied by the fierce advance of the Steel Hand. Perturabo and Vashtor had appeared, and the Steel Hand's artillery fire rushed towards them like an endless mountain range.

【And you?】

Perturabo spoke slowly as he began to walk slowly toward Fenus within the ranks of the Iron Warriors. The sea of ​​Iron Warriors parted and closed automatically, as if they were in sync with the heartbeat and pulse of a single person.

Immediately afterward, the assault team, which had already pierced the ranks of the Iron Warriors like a wedge, began to send out death messages. Countless death messages flooded towards Fenus like snowflakes—in an instant, the Iron Warriors they faced became stronger, more agile, and more skilled in combat.

Peturabo smiled and stared at Fernus as he spoke.

I thought you and I were very similar.

Fenus spat on the ground beside him, and the ground, soaked with blood and flesh, hissed.

Why are you so obsessed with serving him, Fernus?

Peturabo spoke calmly, his eyes holding a deep, dangerous glint, as if he had experienced a great deal.

What has he given us? We could be much more free and independent, masters of our own lives, instead of puppets in his bloated empire.

For the sake of his empire's integrity, the Iron Warriors had to wage war against those worthless alien civilizations, ignite battles on peaceful human planets, and build trenches on countless inhospitable worlds—all to defend those so-called fortresses.

Peturabo chuckled, as if mocking his past self.

And he...

Peturabo said softly,

There's no place for us, no place for the Legion, in the future he envisions. He's already begun to abandon us, hasn't he?

Why remain so stubbornly ignorant?

Peturab said that he had already entered the direct fire range of the Finus Precision Backpack, so Finus chose to answer Peturab's question with artillery fire.

He raised the Broken Forge, the weapon forged for him by Fugan gleaming.

The next moment, the Titans, blasphemous creations of flesh and machine, charged toward Phenus together with Perturabo.

--------

【traitor!!!】

Fenus roared, and a deafening explosion rang in his ears. In his boundless rage, the Furnace Breaker created a sonic boom in the air, and the resulting white wave instantly engulfed the two who were locked in combat. However, Perturabo and Fenus did not slow down in the slightest.

Perturabo's previous mocking expression was gone. The Lord of Steel tightened his face, gritting his teeth and fighting against the Lord of Medusa's attacks with all his might. The short-range firepower on the Fenus craftsmanship backpack was being fully directed at Perturabo, who had to dodge the attacks embarrassingly time and time again.

Beside the two locked in combat, the demonic machine, blasted to pieces by the Precision Backpack's firepower, lay sprawled on the ground like a rag doll. Meanwhile, the Titan of the Steel Warrior served as a long-range fire support platform, holding back the remaining firepower of the Precision Backpack. Fenus had to divert some of his own firepower to counter and eliminate the Titan's barrage of fire aimed at him.

The two Primarchs were locked in a fierce battle, and no one could intervene in their conflict. Fenus was no longer able to attend to the battle around him. The Iron Warriors began to push back, and the Iron Hands around Fenus, who had charged into the Iron Warriors' ranks with him, began to falter.

Standing beneath the black stone obelisk, Vashtor chanted incantations aloud. Beside him, rifts in the warp began to open, and the Lord of the Hearthfire was enveloped by a faint, ineffable power of faith.

As the Vashtor craftsman's hammer swung, worm-like steel cables and white arcs of electricity flashed, and tides of psionic energy washed over the battlefield, pounding the souls of every living being.

+……+

I am the master of all machines!

Some of the sages and the Guardians of the Faith suddenly began to scream in agony. In the Iron Clan closest to the front lines, the Iron Father was horrified to see metallic worms bursting open from the heads of the sages.

"For... Ohm... Messiah..."

The words came out of the sage's mouth in a broken, intermittent manner.

The Steel Hands immediately aimed their bomb guns at the fallen Sage, and after a burst of fire, the Sage's body slumped to the ground.

Behind the battle line, Hades, standing atop a galloping knight, took a deep breath.

He gripped the obituary tightly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Hades unconsciously touched the middle finger bone bestowed upon him by the Emperor in his neck, recalling... recalling that day.

The next moment, a violent green arc of electricity exploded!

"False God,"

The radio waves echoed far and wide, flowing like a stream into the minds of every believer in the God of All Machines.

Hades spoke calmly, surrounded by silver, anti-gravity teardrops.

"This is heresy, you who believe in the truth, kill it."

The next moment, the Steel Hands witnessed in astonishment the Great Sages' clothes being torn apart by the unfolding of countless hidden weapons.

"For Om Messiah! For Hades!!!"

Deadly! Deadly! Deadly!

Chapter 411 The Iron Holy War (Part 2)

Above the smoke-filled wasteland, radio waves surged, and a faint dragon's roar tore through the raging wind.

Stormbirds weave through the dark clouds. Looking down, on the reddish-brown plains, silvery-white spiderwebs stretch outwards in dense patterns, metal crawls across the brown soil, and emerald lightning flashes.

"Praise be to Hades!!!"

With engines roaring, the iron cavalry charged straight into the enemy ranks. The machines, flashing with pale green lightning, collided with the flesh-and-blood machines wrapped in abominable arcs of electricity, and a deafening explosion erupted.

Shouting praises, the Great Sage hurled the Machine God's Axe at the enemy. Its bloated, sharp legs, like those of a crawling worm, pierced the opponent, and the torn strips of red robe turned into blood as they twisted in the joints.

"heresy!!!"

The Great Sage shouted, and with another axe blow to the raw, mechanical construct pinned down by its spikes, it struck the monster squarely in the head. The imprisoned demon shrieked; her microphone was destroyed, and worms made of twisted metal cables burst from its body, lunging at her—

A brilliant green light illuminated her face, contorted with hatred, and the stench of burning filled the air as cables lay scattered on the ground.

A tremendous thud resounded as an Iron Warrior charged toward the Sage, who was still examining the enemy's body. The next moment, a warhammer was thrown from behind the Sage, accompanied by a barrage of fire. The Iron Father charged forward with his hammer, smashing it down on the attacking Iron Warrior.

The great sage was startled and immediately turned his gun on the next enemy.

In the distance, ancient and blasphemous chants rise, numbers accompanied by characters, the rage of machinery. Vastor spreads its wings and ascends into the sky, every cable baring its fangs and claws. It stands on the horizon illuminated by hellfire, loudly calling out to its followers.

Flames ignited at its feet, snaking into the array like venomous snakes. The furnace fire from the Creator ignited on every steel warrior and blasphemous creation, and metal cables rose up, baring their fangs.

The soldiers roared and charged toward the enemy, their flames shooting toward the other side.

The flames that burned the sky illuminated every steel warrior fighting against the steel hand, the scorching, twisted hellfire burning hatefully.

And on that distant other shore—

The earth was silent under the cover of darkness, absolute darkness and silence descended, and every now and then, a burst of verdant lightning would suddenly explode, and for a moment, living beings could glimpse the eerie metal sculpture slowly rising on the horizon.

In the darkness, the faint silvery-white specks resembled stars in the night.

A deep, chilling coldness shone in the eyes of every steel warrior; their pupils were pitch black.

In the dark, churning River Styx, specks of starlight burst forth—the last glimmer of light from a soul. The light explodes, then sinks back into the rolling River Styx, plunging into eternal slumber.

Some of the blasphemous flames were extinguished in the waters of the River Styx, and finally a desperate scream was heard.

Hades took a deep breath, hovering in mid-air, his face illuminated by a faint, pure white glow. He heard every prayer, and the radio waves materialized, flowing before him like the strings of a musical instrument.

The wind howled rapidly in his ears, as if it wasn't him moving, but rather the space suddenly shrinking. Hades remained expressionless. Closer, closer and closer.

His eyes reflected the two people locked in combat, and the expanding mechanical monster.

Perturabo blinked uncomfortably, trying to shake off the chill that sent shivers down his spine. He clenched his teeth, blood seeping from between them.

The furnace-breaker that Phenus had chopped down suddenly magnified in his eyes!

clang!

Sparks exploded, and Fernus immediately raised his hammer to strike again. Hellfire raged behind Perturabo, its stench assaulting the nasal passages of the Medusa lord.

The two Primarchs were entangled at an unimaginable speed, their figures turning into afterimages in the air, and two wisps of gray mist moving swiftly.

Vashtor murmured softly, raising its craftsman's hammer, its fingertips pointing towards the location of the Primarch's battle.

Behind Perturabo, concealed metallic spikes, like venomous snakes, suddenly lunged at Fernus, their spikes flashing with a poisonous light capable of piercing armor.

Hades shouted, suddenly raising his hand and opening his palm. Lightning gathered in his palm, and he clenched! Emerald green arcs of electricity exploded like dazzling fireworks, and on the Terminator armor that Fenus was attached to by silver threads, emerald green lightning bolts shot straight to the spikes like dragons.

In a split second, spikes met arcs of electricity; the blades of the Lord of Medusa and the Lord of Steel clashed once more. In a flash, Phenus crackled a mocking smile, staring at Perturabo, veins bulging.

clang! ! !

Perturab's arm went limp, and at the same time, the Furnace Breaker slammed down. Perturab hurriedly dodged, and the Furnace Breaker grazed past him. Perturab gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, and clenched his fist to smash towards Fenus's breastplate!

Flames leaped onto the gauntlet, carrying a pungent stench.

Tiny, silvery-white droplets gathered around Phenus and rushed toward the raging flames.

Hades coughed up blood. He was too far away!

The iron fist shattered the defense, and Fenus coughed violently, but the Lord of Medusa did not flinch and took the punch head-on. Then, as Perturabo closed the distance, the Furnace Breaker tripped Perturabo's weapon. After a shrill metallic clang, the Furnace Breaker and the blade fell to the ground together.

Fernus raised his iron hand, which shimmered with a silvery light, and charged toward Peturabo!

Vashtor called out, his hoarse voice like the roar of a factory.

Believers, return to the embrace of the Machine God! Accept the breath of machinery!!!

In the illusion of the tidal ocean, the colossal metal behemoth creaks and groans as it moves, a testament to faith, faith—the unwavering pursuit of the mechanical path, the path of the craftsman!

Research and development, design, forging! The demigod is gathering its authority; this is its function, and no being who has devoted themselves to the path of the machine god can escape it!

The sages screamed in agony, but none of them flinched; they preferred to ignite the detonation program and crank up the engine to maximum—

The Iron Hands also stiffened for a moment, their mechanical prosthetics burning hot, searing their heartbeats.

The title of Hades seemed like the last glimmer of hope, and some even trembled as they abandoned the praise of Om Messiah and turned to Hades' throne instead.

A pale green arc of electricity rose, carrying an absolute, icy rationality, cooling the souls of people who were boiling over by the subspace, and dancing with the crimson flames.

Pluto! Pluto!!!

The creatures cried out.

Va, Sh, To, Er.

Hades silently repeated the word to himself, feeling the harmonious symphony of mechanical rhythms—a perfect harmony that no chaotic entity in the warp could control. It was an aesthetic unique to physics! A romance rooted in the truth of the universe! Not merely the idealistic illusion of a warp being!

The truth about the physical universe belongs to humankind!

Hades exhaled a breath of foul, bloody air, and the space around him began to subtly distort.

On a grander, more expansive battlefield, the stardust of concepts gathers and disperses, turbulent currents swirl and flow in the lake, and the brilliance called [Mechanics] and [Rationality] slowly flows into the unfathomable abyss.

"No—no!!!" Vashtor screamed. That monster didn't know how to use these things at all; it was nothing but a greedy and foolish glutton!

The Hades, known as Taotie, took a deep breath, a twisted smile appearing on his lips. Blood turned into silvery liquid gold, which enveloped his body. He felt the authority of the Void Dragon, and memories of observing the Night Embracers in the past began to surface.

The River Styx surged and churned.

Black water drips down.

Vashtor instinctively touched its face, and in a daze, it saw its hands covered in black, murky sewage.

But in an instant, only its own hellish flames remained on its fingertips.

Vashtor shook his head sharply, refocusing his thoughts on the battlefield. Fernus and Peturabo were locked in a fierce and evenly matched battle, but Vashtor knew that Peturabo only needed a tiny bit of help.