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

Page 289

The Imperial Regent flung open his office door without any regard for decorum. Macardo stared in horror at the Emperor, who was sitting at his usual desk.

But the table in front of him cracked, as if it had been cleaved in two by a tremendous force.

The documents were also divided in two. The emperor silently held the pen, the end of which slid off the body of the pen.

The emperor silently raised his eyes, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say.

Makado looked at him, awaiting the explanation from the Lord of Mankind.

Finally, the emperor's lips moved slightly.

"There are dogs."

thing.

Yay, 3.4k gone!

Chapter 349 The War Between Gods and Mortals

This is the Great Vortex, where the warp and the real universe are disrupted, meaning that psionic beings are better able to interfere with and predict the fate of this place.

They therefore see more clearly.

But these are the Star Gods, and their existence can beat up these old guys who use psychic powers to play with precognition.

Therefore, those in the subspace could not see it so clearly.

But this doesn't mean that these psionic beings can't use their wisdom; their calculations and deductions on the chessboard, and logic, will also be powerful weapons for them.

But this is on the premise that their opponents are also logical.

Unfortunately, some people on this battlefield lack this powerful and admirable quality.

For example, Angron, the Lord of the Red Sands, suddenly interrupted the battle.

Hades' logic was clearly complete and rigorous, although no one but himself had anticipated this outcome.

The angry are angry, the cunning laugh loudly, the inactive look askance, and the greedy are tempted.

The emperor frowned slightly in displeasure, and the long-range psionic contest caused golden flames to blaze around him.

The Lord of Humanity took a deep breath, and then took another deep breath.

From the moment the Emperor bestowed the finger bone upon Hades, he never imagined that this ill-fated little finger bone would meet such an end. Hades had only kept it intact for one year, one hundred and thirty-seven days, four hours, seventeen minutes, and five seconds.

But... the Emperor closed his eyes, frowning as he felt the teetering body of Number Twelve. He had just driven away the raging flames for his unfortunate offspring.

Instead, a force that was not gentle was poured into it, but rather a violent and unreasonable spiritual energy of faith.

The Emperor "looked" at the Star God fragment holding a scythe in front of him; the gift Khorne had chosen was indeed exquisite.

If Hades and Angron were to survive alone, Hades would have no chance of survival, and Angron would be taken away by Khorne after Hades' death.

Even with the Emperor channeling the power of Hades' Void Dragon, their chances of survival against the Nightbringers, who prey on their own kind, were almost nonexistent.

Perhaps Hades had done his best, even if the Emperor did not expect it—he had not anticipated that things would turn out this way.

The Emperor carefully manipulated his psionic energy, ensuring that Number Twelve remained in a fighting-ready state until the battle ended.

Psychic energy is inherently mutually restraining with Hades' Dark Realm, therefore the Emperor cannot directly bless Hades.

This is why the Emperor wanted Hades to keep that nemesis's blade; the broken sword, once blessed by the psychic powers of the four gods, was enough to allow the Emperor's psychic powers to unleash their full power.

But this is far from enough for the Night Embracers.

The dull-witted have not yet come to their senses.

The previously set-up psionic energy forcibly awakened the dulled man's resonance with the warp, which consumed a large amount of psionic energy that had been accumulated—the Lord of the Silent Order finally comprehended a faint power of dragons.

But it's still not enough.

Fate was slowly making its way along its predetermined path. The finger bones, having consumed a great deal of spiritual energy, could hardly support any decent attack, while the distance was too great for the Emperor's hand to reach.

Perhaps Hades and Angron will perish in the Great Whirlpool.

Realizing this, the emperor approved the documents expressionlessly. Before this, the Lord of Humanity had experienced countless failures. He could only do what he could and accept what had already happened.

The finger bones allowed him to sense that Hades was in trouble, but due to Hades' presence, the Emperor could not know the details.

But just as the Emperor's consciousness began to consider how to deal with the failure of the Great Vortex, his body suddenly shuddered!

The flow of faith power abruptly shifted! Psychic perception became clearer, even more intense, in an instant! The Emperor felt an unimaginable resonance—

Is it Angron resonating with his psionic powers?!

In an instant, the Emperor learned what had happened on the battlefield amidst the great vortex.

The finger bone can conduct the Emperor's psionic energy, but it is difficult for Hades to exert its original effect when he is near him. So Hades simply threw the finger bone at Angron—the Primarch has a very high compatibility with the Emperor's psionic energy.

In that instant of contact, the Emperor's more compatible psychic powers with Angron dispelled Khorne's wrath!

Hades… Hades, it's difficult for the Emperor to judge his actions. Objectively, it did save Hades and his companions' lives, but…

The Emperor remained expressionless. He was not concerned about Number Twelve's oral cavity and esophagus problems. Although he understood why Hades wanted the finger bone to be inserted into his stomach, setting aside Hades' own obsession, Angron was not suitable for any other way of wearing a finger bone at this moment.

Hades could have chosen a more normal and acceptable action.

The Lord of Humanity took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself down.

The desk, which had suddenly cracked open, clearly disagreed with his view.

Meanwhile, in the midst of a vortex where fate has been shattered beyond recognition, under the watchful eyes of the gods—

In the cold wind, black mist began to spread from the ruins where Hades had fallen, interspersed with flashes of scorching green light.

The constraints have been removed.

The next moment, the phantom of the dragon rose up.

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This is a war of the gods.

Countless flames fell from the horizon, which was filled with rolling blood clouds. Even the giant knights on the battlefield were just toys for beginners. Only the Titans and the spaceships that were willing to dive into the earth from orbit could barely add a touch of smoke to this battle.

In the center of the shaky vision, the crimson-gold war god roared with his axe raised, each strike carrying earth-shattering fury. He slashed wildly at his enemies, even though his wounds were wide open and his blood was so scarce that it could no longer drip.

The crimson-gold giants clashed and fought with the darkness, while another kind of darkness closely followed the battle, constantly interfering with the Nightbringers' plans to move elsewhere. Metal twisted and pierced into the Nightbringers' darkness, binary language spread layer by layer, and the Empire's war machines roared into the fray, using their massive bodies and explosions to add weight to the victory in this demigod war.

They died without regret, for Om Messiah had returned to the world!

The explosion caused the earth to tremble violently, making it difficult for everyone to stand. Facing Om Messiah, the sage knelt down and kowtowed, then resolutely stood up and began to run forward, towards the very center of the vortex of death.

Faint green arcs of electricity danced around the sage, and he stumbled and staggered.

The ground trembled, and he almost bounced up. A huge shadow loomed over him from behind, and Titans ran over his head, slowly and heavily rushing toward death. Sparks from the cannon barrels ignited craters in his tattered red robe.

Far more sacred and beautiful than the simple binary language resounded in the sage's mind engine, far exceeding its maximum power. However, the insignificant parts within him began to dissolve, and the flowing metal slowly seeped into the mind engine, forcing him to understand.

His thought process was trembling.

Another spaceship, misled by the distorted space, exploded near the sage. The massive shockwave sent him flying, his tattered body tumbling through the air. He saw the vast metal graveyard beneath him, piled high with countless alien and Mechanicus corpses.

He tumbled to the ground, slamming hard, but he successfully entered the more central battlefield, with black metal fragments hovering unconsciously at his feet.

"Oh, O Messiah!"

He shouted and ran forward again. Green lightning suddenly flashed around him, and his world went dark for a brief moment. When he regained his senses, the sage found that his lower body had disappeared, a huge crater was behind him, and the ground looked as if a piece had been scooped out with a spoon.

He was discovered and attacked, but Om Messiah saved his life! Because the gods still needed him!

The sage struggled to crawl forward, the flowing metal forming streams beside him as he crawled, trying to heal him. But with the main body still locked in fierce combat, vying for power and territory, they were clearly unable to perform a true miracle, and could only awkwardly try to stop the gushing oil and blood from flowing out.

The sage crawled over countless corpses, some of them aliens, some of his own. All the sages' corpses had maintained a pilgrimage-like forward posture before they died.

He felt his whole body was ice cold, but his mind engine was burning brightly. He saw the technological creations of the alien race, and the sage knew—he knew how to operate them. Om Messiah had granted him authority!

He pushed aside the heavy corpse in front of him, the one holding the scarlet scythe. The sage struggled to reach the control panel, but after several attempts, his chest pressed against the black stone, and he slowly slid down.

The indicator light flashed a few times and then went out.

The silvery-white liquid metal weakly surrounded him, like Om Messiah's cold tears.

Five seconds later, another sage roughly shoved his corpse aside and slammed his hand on the control panel.

The Nightbringers, who were engaged in fierce combat, let out a piercing scream.

Too much to do today, that's all... I'll try to write more tomorrow... *sigh*

Chapter 350 Rain Falls

The behemoth that is war can only be lashed and tamed by the coldest and hardest metal machinery, forcing it to lower its proud head.

Blood and tears are but a small joke of war; a true king is a miracle forged from alloys and gunpowder.

Grasp the reins of industry, the most glorious and violent warhorse in human history.

From then on, they were invincible.

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An angry storm pounded against him, determined to tear him down from his height.

He remained unmoved, while millions of shouts rose around him.

He could feel the pulse of the metal.

He heard the hum of power armor shattering in the extreme cold, the roar of gears within the sage's skeleton, the explosions of overheated engines among the charging knights, and the screams of pilots within the massive Titan.

The explosive gun buried among the corpses groaned softly, the helmet that had been shot off wept silently, and the chainsaw axe lay idly spinning on the ground, its owner already fallen.

The spaceships in orbit around the planet sent him a clear, ethereal call, as distant as the sound of the tide along the coastline. Stormbirds fell in the gale, struggling against the giant hand of gravity as they crashed to the ground. On the dirty, reddish-brown earth, a small, bright yellow wildflower bloomed and then vanished in an instant.

Hades lowered his eyes, the gears and cables forming the outline of a battlefield for him.

He began to make plans.

Even in a closer dimension of space, an even fiercer war was raging, with radiant golden giants and shattered black-robed death gods, just like the war itself. The crimson light and dim darkness drew the attention of all beings to this point.

But the scale of this war was far greater than that, he thought as he watched the men charging forward.

He raised his hand; the floating metal and lightning were his formal attire, and the radio waves were his conductor's baton.

The first radio wave trembled in the air, and the World Eaters and the Guardians of the Faith, who had been scattered by the Nightbringers and the Space Necromancers, received the coordinate signal. The crowd began to gather and surged forward like a stream, merging into a sea of ​​cannon fire and smoke.

Heavy vehicles, struggling in the mud and blood, roared as the gods pointed them in the right direction: load, aim, fire. Countless shells drew perfect arcs in the air, crashing into the ranks of the space undead.

In the ocean of radio waves, the gods let out a long, drawn-out sigh like that of an ancient whale, and ripples spread outwards. Mechanical behemoths heard his call and roared as they charged into the battle. Some rushed straight into death, while others headed towards more remote battlefields.

There, the space necromancers, scorned by the Nightbringers, are being consumed by a frenzy. The aftershocks of the divine war wipe out countless soldiers. The wisdom of the dragons has rendered the resurrection protocol ineffective. Green lightning rises stealthily and strikes the alien race.

Hades waved his baton, responding to the people's calls to him, his gentle whispers echoing in the ears of every sage. He bestowed the necessary wisdom, even if the price of that wisdom was the shattering of the recipient.

He could not see life and fragile organisms, nor could he hear the cries of the soul and intellect to him, but he saw the gears turning, advancing relentlessly with an unyielding spirit.

This matter must be carried out by them; the dragon is being watched, and the covert actions must be carried out by the despised.

Countless sages fell on the road, but countless others stepped into the forbidden zone of life, broken and shattered, yet they never retreated.

Ultimately, the thirty-seventh sage to touch the black stone creation did it—

Space suddenly distorted, and a violent force gripped the chains of the Night Bearers. With unwavering resolve, the cage began to reclaim its prisoners, slowly and resolutely withdrawing its power.

The Night Bearers let out a mournful wail, and the shattered god began His final, frantic struggle.

Absolutely, overwhelming physical laws descended upon this place, and the king on the skull roared angrily, while the furrowed brows of the Lord of Mankind slowly smoothed out.

Opposite the Nightbringers, Angron, blood streaming from his head, roared in fury. The Son of God raised his battle axe and brought it down on the enemy for the final blow. Then he staggered and fell to the ground.

The floating metal objects caught him.

In the darkness, raging, scorching green arcs of electricity rolled, and a jet-black scythe hung down, its metal melting and dripping onto the blade like teardrops.

Hades raised his scythe without expression.

The sky trembled, and another giant ship crashed heavily into the Nightbringers.

In the distance, Kahn stared incredulously at the center of the battlefield.

A massive mushroom cloud rose, and the next moment, howling darkness erupted amidst the smoke. A magnificent, agonizing phantom appeared in mid-air, its furious, resentful screams piercing the sky. Darkness bared its fangs against darkness, scythe slashing down—

The space suddenly turned black and white, and the screams stopped abruptly.

In the distance, the dragon's roar faded away.