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

Page 337

If the battle goes poorly, then the troops here should be depleted as much as possible before attempting a breakout.

Time was of the essence, and the only decisive factor was still within the enemy's encirclement, making this a desperate measure.

"Don't linger in the fight."

Hades succinctly stated that the Silent Order fleet, now freed from the steel hand, was more like a sharp, unstoppable, yet fragile black dagger.

It suddenly stabbed at the anchor point.

Cardia...

Hades realized that he needed to be fast, fast enough, because time was the point that would determine life or death.

If they arrive in time, there is still a chance of survival; but if they don't manage to grasp that last glimmer of hope... the only outcome will be death.

------

【it's over. 】

Peturabo said, and he laughed. Vashtor looked at him silently. Peturabo seemed to be laughing out of anger, or perhaps he was delighted with what was about to happen.

Perturabo's fingers curled imperceptibly as he sensed the presence of the abomination beside him. No, this wasn't his original plan.

But under the pressure from the Steel Hand and the Order of Silence, Perturabo didn't have many options at this moment.

His dark eyes were calm.

They're too late. Let's start the countdown.

As the Lord of Steel spoke, the last few black stone obelisks on the desolate land of Kadia began to resonate faintly.

4.4, that's it, great!

Chapter 402 Kadia, is it open yet?

The earth remained silent, dust billowed up, and the air trembled with an uneasy and restless dryness.

"whee,"

The great demon with purple eyes hunched over, propped up a staff made of stacked human bones, looked up at the sky, and its white membrane, like a toad's eye, blinked, reflecting the sky as if a colorful porridge was beginning to churn.

Ingerser raised his staff, its arms outstretched, wildly waving its bony staff, which scraped across the yellow sand with a rustling sound.

"A new era, hee hee! A new era, eh!"

Behind it, the blood of Ingersel's guards smeared the massive altar, black blood flowing backward from below, coiling like black snakes around the central Primarch's body. Loka knelt there, his eyes reflecting the blazing fire from the Terran cathedral. He also looked up at the sky in ecstasy, a sinister smile spreading across his lips.

[False Emperor... False Emperor... You will pay the price for your deception and hypocrisy.]

A deathly white flash shone from the dome, its white light overshadowing the original sunlight, like a cold sun about to rise.

Perturabo laughed, he even felt a trembling of ecstasy. He would be doing the final step himself. His soul trembled, but his hands, which altered the obelisk's circuit, were more precise than the most intricate machinery. At this moment, he was completely focused.

It's almost healed... it's almost healed...

A low, mournful whisper, a cacophony of sounds lingered in his ear, as a venomous snake slowly crawled up his neck, its scarlet tongue flicking out, gently tempting him.

The master of the furnace held its breath, the eternal flames flickering in its eyes, the cable obediently coiling back to its side. It would witness the overthrow of an era and the true beginning of a new one.

"Hee hee! What a wonderful day! What a wonderful day!"

Ingersoll roared to the sky, drool dripping from its layered fangs. It frantically sniffed the pungent stench of psionic energy in the air, mixed with the discordant smell of burning gunpowder. The sky trembled. Closer, closer!

Luo Jia, kneeling on the ground, began to pray to his god in a low, earnest voice. The primitive people with purple eyes also knelt down and writhed erratically like insects.

Perturabo stopped abruptly, straightened up, and stared at the circuit before him. The alien circuit was now down to its final segment, its last step.

Peturabo's brain trembled.

Vashtor's head moved closer, resting intimately on Peturabo's shoulder, while its other claw gripped Peturabo's hand from behind.

Come on, come on... it's the final step.

"The Lord of the Furnace Fire said excitedly,"

The Lord of Steel sneered, and a chilling and ruthless look began to emerge in Perturabo's trembling eyes.

I will.

Peturabo said,

Let this corrupt empire crumble.

He reached out his hand to complete the final step—

High in the Himalayas, amidst the frigid winds of Terra, on the throne, the Emperor's hand, which had been casually tapping the table, stopped. The Lord of Mankind slowly opened his eyes, golden light surging within them.

Inside the deepest prison cell of the Space Wolf ship, the withered, scarlet sinner shuddered violently.

Under the magnificent sunset over Baal, the archangel, facing the orange-red sun, froze, his colorful feathers trembling slightly in the wind between his outstretched wings.

In the rainy night of Nostramore, the Lord of the Night stared into the darkness with his dark eyes, large drops of acid rain streaming down his nose through his soaked, disheveled hair.

Inside the underground tomb, the metal skeleton sitting on the throne, playing with ancient artifacts, lowered its hand, bewildered, from its grasp of the treasures.

In Barbaros's reception room, Mortarion's hand, which was signing documents, stopped. The Lord of Death silently raised his head from the documents, his heart pounding violently.

Is something wrong?

Mortarian frowned, raised his hand, and casually scribbled a few numbers in the gaps of the scrap paper—

The time is not yet ripe, but the full moon is approaching.

The Lord of Death uttered these words softly.

What does it mean?

What happened?

Peturabo remained silent, as did Vashtor, the crackling firelight burning quietly in Vashtor's eye sockets.

[…It was successful?]

Peturabo's uncertain, even slightly trembling voice rang out. He might despise this wavering version of himself, but not now.

Vashtor remained silent, as if frozen in place, with only the flickering flames of the abomination furnace and the faint sounds of electric arcs.

The long, rough creaking sound of rusty metal echoed as Vasenthor leaned his metal head forward, the firelight illuminating the circuit.

+...That's right.

"The Lord of the Furnace Fire," it said softly, shaking its head, and for the first time speaking with an uncertain tone.

Why don't you try again?

Peturabo turned his head and stared at Vashtor, who also stared silently at the Primarch.

Peturabo abruptly refocused his gaze on the circuit, melting off the last piece of alloy he had welded on, then welding it back on, and furiously trying to reignite the energy several times.

No response.

On the earth, Ingersoll's frenzied dance came to a halt. It stopped in a daze, saliva dripping from the crack in its serpentine mouth and splashing onto the ground. At its feet, the ignorant believers continued to contort their bodies.

"Ah...ah..."

The hideous demon trembled as it slowly extended its hand, its lizard-like sandstone eyes reflecting the distant scenery—

A wisp of smoke rose faintly from the horizon at the very edge of sight.

stab

In an instant, the sky turned black and white, dust rose and settled, and the world fell silent.

Tick, tick.

Tick.

Beside the black helmet and boots, drops of blood fell into the yellow dust, causing dust to rise and cover the black armor.

Hades hunched over, coughing violently. He weakly leaned on the black stone obelisk beside him, which was trembling violently, with dark lightning and verdant arcs of electricity swirling around him.

The resonance surged violently, the tower shrieked, and a polarity completely different from the other black towers unfolded here, extending in a dark and twisted manner.

Hades' vision blurred, darkness enveloped everything, and he made no defensive moves. Hades wiped his mouth, his palm covered in blood.

No...no, Hades could feel the Dark Domain expanding recklessly, greedily devouring the unguided psionic energy.

He could sense the growth of the Black Domain, but the growth was... too fast.

Hades took a deep breath, braced himself against the black tower, and suddenly stood up.

Beside the Black Stone Tower, flames flickered at the bottom of the airdrop pod, whose hatch had been forcibly kicked open, and smoke drifted out from within.

Countless corpses lay in this darkness.

Within this area, only the deceased remain.

Hades took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt the resonance of the black stone obelisks around him. Dark arcs of electricity spread violently, tearing deep ravines into the earth. The abundant, unclaimed psionic energy was the best conductor for the arcs.

Perturabo abruptly stood up and slammed his hand on the circuit. With a bang, the line broke, and the gushing psionic springs across the planet began to dry up.

【—Hades!!!】

The Lord of Steel roared in fury. At that moment, Peturabo, who had been focused on the final step of the great cause, realized that he could not control the steel warriors in the remote region.

Within the scanning array of the Iron Warriors, above the atmosphere of Kadia, a long, almost invisible black river was quietly floating.

Sensing that the source of the psychic energy had been cut off, Hades breathed a sigh of relief, and the rising lightning began to subside.

"Airborne landing site".

Hades spoke calmly, and then countless meteors lit up the sky above his head.

Next, we just have to wait for reinforcements.

Hades wiped the blood from the corners of his eyes and mouth again. He subconsciously touched the Emperor's finger bone on his neck, but the withered bone still did not respond.

The intensity of the disordered and uncontrolled psionic energy was already about to surpass that of the Emperor's finger bone, and it was only without guidance. Hades could only resist it by urgently reversing the polarity of a black stone obelisk.

Hades took a deep breath; if he went all out, he wouldn't last long.

However… Hades sneered, a chilling flame of battle igniting in his eyes. If it came down to a desperate fight…

He has enough strength to outlast Peturabo and Luojia.

Maybe, don't wait.

Chapter 403 Before the First Battle

The sickle plunged straight into the yellow sand and gravel.

On the dark, silent armor, the firelight flickered, reflecting the hazy blue of the horizon, before being dispersed by the smoke of gunpowder.

Silvery tear tracks slid down his shoulder armor, a small, meteor-hammer-like incense burner hung down, and within the arc of a dark iron halo, the giant's expression was obscure and difficult to discern in the shadows.

He held a deep, dark scythe, silver cracks flashing like lightning from the handle to the blade. The blade tip was sharp and smooth, with a faint, shimmering green light emanating from its edge, carrying an ominous, alien glow.

Two large pistols were slung at his waist. One was entirely black with a thick barrel and a heavy charging slot embedded in it. The other was entirely white with a sharp barrel. At the same time, some black and white ammunition was also hanging at his waist.

A massive, half-wrapped broken sword was slung across the back of the black-armored giant, exuding an eerie aura. Its sharp, rough surface was covered with countless densely packed, unique languages. For a moment, Perturabo even thought that this giant sword had something in common with the death of faith that wounded Luo Jia.

Peturabo paused, his gaze shifting.

He stared at the person's face in the image, but the darkness made it difficult to see clearly.

...Is this the Death Guard commander he remembers?

Peturabo remained silent, pondering for a moment, but Vashtor's words interrupted his thoughts.

Stop him.

Vashtor sounded anxious, and sparks from the furnace fire spewed from its mouth, splashing onto Peturabo's shoulder armor.

Peturabo frowned imperceptibly, but as if realizing something, he chuckled.

[Phenus's army is still on its way, and a large-scale landing on Cadia is clearly impossible; only a small force is possible.]

The Silent Order has few warriors, and their combat strength is even weaker than that of the Space Marines.

Now, the Cardia is home to most of the Iron Warriors' forces, a third of the Word Bearers, and countless trenches and fortresses.

[I'm assembling my army; he's chosen a secluded corner, which is merely a delay.]

"Perturabo said, but the Primarch still dared not be careless. Just now... just now, did that Soulless One perform a solo entry into the atmosphere?"