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

Page 340

Me, a traitor?

Peturabo said flippantly,

Who betrayed humanity? Who concealed the truth with lies, and feigned deception of my brothers, attempting to ascend to godhood through the Primarchs?

Hades roared, and the Titans beneath him roared with him. A bolt of dark lightning exploded, and in the midst of the tank formation, the deep space tore apart the powerless war toys.

"So this is the truth behind your servitude as a lackey of Chaos?! What right do you have to criticize him for willingly becoming a slave?! At least he wouldn't enslave humanity—the Empire has never betrayed humanity! The Emperor has never let humanity down!!!"

"And you?! And you?! Perturab—tyrant! Is this how you treat the sons who trust you?!"

Perturabo chuckled softly as he awaited the arrival of warp forces on the battlefield. His thoughts lingered for a moment on the word "slave," but the Iron Lord quickly shifted his focus away from it.

I am not anyone's puppet.

Peturabo spoke softly, listening to the ticking sound of the pipes connected to his head transmitting information.

But when have I ever had a choice?

The Lord of Steel's eyes glazed over for a moment, but then he laughed again. Perturabo raised his voice mockingly.

I merely gave them the best life possible. Rather than letting them waste their lives as worthless vain, I would rather they become the foundation of a great undertaking. Mortals with shallow minds cannot comprehend grand ambitions; they are nothing but fools who only know how to serve their own pleasure.

As if giving an example, Peturabo casually extended one of his hands, and at the same time, he opened the Torturer's hatch, the wind whipping at him with sand and grit.

Empty military achievements, pointless praise from superiors, so-called loyalty—all of this is just a game of war, and we are all players.

Three Titans stepped onto the blood-soaked ground amidst Perturabo's lighthearted words. Massive cutting machines roared, volcanic cannons flashed, and countless knights surrounded the iron-gray Titans.

In Peturabo's view, they rushed toward the Titan that had stormed deep into the Iron Warriors.

Perturabo felt the slight lag in the data transmission, like an attack on a firewall; something was trying to seize his control over the Titans. Perturabo strode forward, then suddenly burst into laughter, his words tinged with madness.

[And you?! Hades—you've also gotten tired of this game, so you've chosen to directly control them? What's the difference between you and me—]

Peturabo's tone shifted at the end,

No! At least I won't deceive them with false faith! Those charlatans!

Hades remained expressionless as he tried to seize control of the opposing force, but these Titans clearly possessed their own machine spirits.

Under Hades' control, the Ominous-class psionic titan beneath him charged forward, its tattered engine on its left arm piercing the oncoming titan's cockpit like a blade. The sound of shattering steel rang out, and fine blood trickled down, forming faint crimson patterns.

The Ominous-class psionic titans abruptly withdrew their hands, and after a huge, long roar, the titans in front of them fell straight to their sides. At the same time, two meters in front of Hades, the ripples of the Void Shield fluctuated violently, and a blinding plasma slowly disappeared on it.

The stench of burning cables wafted by. On the volcano cannon of another Ominous-class psionic titan behind Hades, the smoke had just dissipated. Hades glanced casually at the side of the titan in front of him, which had just fired plasma at him, and saw that the left frame was engulfed in flames.

Lift your foot,

Hades thought to himself, and the Titan beneath him took a step forward. A storm of violent arcs of electricity suddenly rose up, like a crown for Hades. The pieces of the fallen Titan's body were blown away, and ripples of fear spread out in layers. Powerless knights drifted and scattered within the dark lake.

In the darkness, Hades looked down from his vantage point, about to enter direct fire range... Hades stared coldly at the figure standing in front of the dark gray tank.

The shadow of the Titan machine descended, enveloping the Lord of Steel along with the darkness.

"Who gave you the courage, Peturabo?"

A red light flashed, and Hades spoke softly.

Peturabo smiled.

The truly cowardly one is you, Hades.

Hades looked up, and the next moment, a storm of psionic energy raged violently in the distance. Unsurprisingly, Hades heard the last scream of the Alpha Psionicist, who was already overwhelmed beneath his feet, as he lay dying.

The battery is dead.

Hades stared calmly at Perturabo, the Knights of the Order of Silent marching forward behind him; Fernus was almost there… but—

"You think I can't beat you?"

Great!

Chapter 406 Run? You're going to run again?!

Without any hesitation, Hades raised his hand and fired a shot. The black scythe tore through space, and Hades leaped straight toward Perturabo from above the Titan.

Darkness enveloped him, and amidst the crackling lightning, he saw Perturabo trying to move the turrets on the back of his armor, but after a few soft clicks, Perturabo's eyes flickered with panic, and his attempt failed.

But Peturabo raised his weapon almost simultaneously.

Hades raised his scythe, simultaneously compressing the dark domain; one strike, just one strike—

clang! ! !

Sparks flew from between the raised warhammer and scythe, illuminating their faces. Hades's hand went numb as he clearly saw the sharp tip of the obituary's blade touch Peturabo's head, the emerald green blade piercing the skin and drawing blood.

But Perturabau had already lost. Hades felt the long shaft of his warhammer, which had been blocking his scythe, lose its force. Perturabau stood almost dead inside his armor, supported only by it. His body was exhausted. Hades exerted force downwards—

? !

On the scale of nanoseconds, Hades suddenly looked up, his dark pupils reflecting a chaotic and erratic pattern as the demon army and psionic storm surged toward him.

Accompanied by a devastating curse, the psionic storm whipped up Hades's disheveled hair, lifting him off his feet! The scythe pressed against the Iron Lord's head was a fraction of a second away, but just a fraction of a second short—

Vashtor, who was rushing in the distance, burst into laughter.

boom!

Hades crashed straight into the body of the Titan behind him, followed by a tank overturned by a hurricane crashing into it!

boom! ! !

Smoke billowed up, and the massive machine roared endlessly as it irreversibly fell backward, crashing into the wreckage of the vehicle.

The sudden departure of darkness gave Peturabo a chance to catch his breath, and he began to breathe heavily like a fish out of the desert.

Light returned to his eyes, and in that instant he seemed to truly understand death; the fiercely flickering flame of his soul seemed to vanish briefly at that moment.

Perturabo coughed violently, and in that instant his whole world went dark. The vast sea of ​​data no longer descended; there was only himself, and only himself left.

Just as Perturabo was coughing and vomiting, regaining control of his body, eerie, pale green arcs of electricity leaped up and crackled around the Iron Lord's armor atop the smoke-filled Titan's body, growing increasingly intense. The width of the lightning bolts increased from the thickness of a thumb to the thickness of an arm in the blink of an eye.

A cold voice rang out from the smoke and dust, carrying a hint of anger.

"You should be glad you're in Cardia."

Hades rose from the Titan's remains, fragments of the tank scattering from his body, yet gleaming with an eerie silver light. Perturabo's pupils trembled, the solid steel transforming into something resembling semi-soft silk, shimmering in the darkness as it slid off Hades' black armor.

Blood trickled from Hades's lips as he compressed the dark domain that enveloped the area. A massive, trembling psychic light illuminated the edge of the darkness, making it difficult to discern which was eroding which.

But Hades' eyes remained unmoved; he stared intently at Perturab, seeing blood trickling down his forehead.

The concentration of psionic energy here is extremely high, and it's specifically targeted at Hades. Otherwise, Perturabo would have been dead long ago.

But it didn't matter. Hades listened to the shouts of the demon army that were constantly approaching from afar, and felt the heavy pressure that was squeezing him all the time. He found it hard to breathe, as if he was no longer in the air, but in the deep sea filled with a vast ocean.

It doesn't matter, it's just a matter of being a few seconds away from dying.

Hades lifted his foot from the broken wall of steel and stared at Perturabo, whose armor was now locked. The Lord of Steel was clearly aware of this as well, and he looked at his armor in a panic. Silver tears were streaming down the armor that the Lord of Steel was so proud of, as if it were repenting for its sins.

Liquid gold dripped down, then floated up against gravity amidst the surrounding pale green lightning, slowly condensing into slender, half-meter-long spikes that trembled and floated in the air, seemingly undisturbed by the gale.

Hades took a deep breath, and through the thin mist of Kadia, he seemed to see the enormous eye of terror slowly watching over them, its light a strange, chaotic mix of colors.

Darkness enveloped them, and even a moment seemed to stretch out endlessly. The whole world resembled a tilted ocean floor, where time slowed down, and their panting breaths also slowed.

Chi Chi.

A faint piercing sound rang out from the dead of night, accompanied by screams of agony as the adamantium shattered. Tears transformed into sharp spikes, piercing the adamantium armor, and drops of blood seeped out, flowing into Peturabo's feet amidst the steel encirclement.

The long needle pierced straight into the body of the Lord of Steel, while the imprisoned beast was unable to move.

Hades's lips curled into a maniacal smile. Unfortunately, he couldn't yet precisely control these droplets; otherwise, he would have aimed for his brain. Hades waited for the psionic storm to weaken, and then his forelegs, planted firmly on the ground, began to exert force—

Hades charged out suddenly.

The emerald green edge of the obituary blade pierced the darkness around him, and the scythe went straight for the head of the imprisoned Peturabo!

At the same time, the long scythe pierced Petura Bottoli's body, cracking his hard armor and filling his nostrils with the stench of blood.

Hades stared intently at Perturabo, and he saw that Perturabo was also staring back at him. The Primarch's face was contorted in a grotesque and terrifying manner, while Perturabo's eyes were bloodshot, with tiny beads of blood seeping from his eye sockets.

Crackling sounds echoed from around the Lord of Steel.

"Repent, you traitor!"

At the last moment, Hades roared, but at the same time, the sound of steel bars snapping suddenly reached Hades' ears—

It was almost a dark gray wind.

The sickle, unable to turn in time, suddenly missed its target!

Hades used the momentum to sidestep almost the instant his feet touched the ground, and the warhammer that slammed into his side made a heavy sound, leaving a noticeable dent in Hades' breastplate.

Hades immediately turned around and spun his scythe. The emerald light around him transformed into a circle of death. He heard the sound of metal hitting the ground, but the tactile sensation from the scythe told him that he had missed.

Hades' gaze returned to Perturabo in the distance. He stared in astonishment at the Lord of Steel, who stood there, still teetering on the brink of collapse.

Using the spikes to break through the armor, the Iron Lord broke free from his armor!

Now, Peturabo was only wearing a light combat suit in the style of Olympia. He was half-naked, holding the warhammer in his hand. The broken spikes bulged from his chest muscles, abdomen and arms, pointing straight out.

Peturabo smiled faintly as he felt... felt the sense of unfamiliarity. In this darkness, everything fell silent, including—

It seems my guess was correct.

Including the feeling of being watched.

Peturabo knew that something had broken, something that was gone forever. In this dark ocean, he could no longer feel the control lines—the ones he used to command the Iron Warriors, and the ones that pointed back at him.

This is true freedom.

Perturabo laughed. No, not quite. He could feel the disgust in his soul, not just the recent filth and rust, but also the golden light from long ago.

They coexisted within his soul, and to Peturabo's amusement, in a way, these outer rays of light protected his true soul within this dark ocean.

He even glanced somewhat frivolously at Hades, whom he had been using. Even though he felt a vague fear and unease, and his soul trembled and screamed, a frenzied excitement and ecstasy kept him standing there.

【You, Hades—】

Why did you become a pawn? You possess absolute freedom; you should be the one in control.

Perturabo said that his soul was fading and burning, but he tried to gather his flames together. The Lord of Steel carefully controlled the distance between himself and Hades. His soul fire was getting smaller, but after the impurities were removed, it became brighter and brighter.

Even in complete darkness, a light shone in Peturabo's eyes, a dangerous bright yellow gleaming against the deep gray.

He turned sideways with some difficulty, and two streaks of fire grazed past him, leaving scorched marks on his shoulder.

Perturabo licked his lips. He could hear Vashtor calling him. He looked at Hades, who also looked disheveled. He was fighting against something—against unseen beings. Perturabo knew that this was all thanks to Vashtor and Loka.

Peturabo slightly opened his arms, tilted his body back, and blood flowed from his chest, forming the pattern of his battle armor.

【I can be your ally, Hades!】

Hades fired another shot into Perturabo's mouth. Perturabo was panting. He seemed to know what the Four Gods were doing. A force similar to the Emperor's finger bone, but even more violent and savage, was pressing down on him.

But Hades was also resisting, he was resisting fiercely, he could feel that they were also paying a considerable price, so much so that the psychic energy that was suppressing him had changed to two different colors in a few moments.

"fart!"

Hades shouted and charged at Perturabo, but Perturabo was clearly prepared not to engage him in close combat again, and he was obviously more agile now that he had shed his heavy armor.

Without hesitation, the Lord of Steel turned around. His goal had been achieved, and he began—

Run back.

Sparks flew from the ground beside him as they began their chase through the concrete jungle.

Hades was furious. He was running out of time. Perturab was fooling him—he wasn’t even prepared to confront Hades!

Or did he realize he couldn't defeat Hades after receiving the next attack?

But that's not important. What's important is that Hades' opponent once again chose to run away.

In a daze, Hades seemed to return to that afternoon, running on the alien flagship, but this time there was no Lord of Death to help him stop these damned lackeys.

"Coward! Don't run!!!"

Hades shouted as he held the obituary high, the black stone chains wrapped around his right arm.

Peturabo's words kept echoing in his ears.

[You willingly become a lackey, a hypocrite and false god, what grounds do you have to condemn me?!]

Hades stared at the fleeing figure, blood still trickling from the corner of his mouth, and aimed—