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

Page 273

Am I the first to know about this, I mean among my brothers?

Guilliman asked abruptly.

"In a way... you're the first."

Makado said quietly,

He was the first, Guilliman thought. Was the Emperor's decision to make him the first a calculated move? Did he think that Guilliman, as his son, could accept this news?

Guilliman was certain that what he was seeing would be an incredible shock to some of his other brothers, and that some Primarchs might not be able to accept it.

...No, Guilliman suddenly recalled the image of the Emperor in his mind. If he considered the Primarchs as tools, then having more tools wouldn't seem to matter.

After all, there was already one Makado, so it wasn't unacceptable, even though most Primarchs loathed the old man.

Guilliman paused, then smiled modestly.

I understand, and I'm glad to see the Empire promoting capable individuals, especially Hades, but it seems we need to reassess our situation.

He stretched out his hand.

[Robert Guilliman, Commander of the 13th Legion's Ultramarines, Lord of Macragge.]

He found it somewhat amusing to see Hades pause for a moment, then glance hesitantly at Macado. As usual, the old man rolled his eyes at him, and Hades, after receiving the old man's glare, smiled helplessly and extended his hand as well.

"Hades, Commander of the Death Guard of the Fourteenth Legion, Lord of the Order of Silence."

After letting go, Guilliman smiled easily.

"So, may I now invite you to visit Makurag, Hades? You were very enlightening for me regarding anti-psychic practices last time, and I'd like to know your thoughts and experiences on deploying anti-psychic techniques in real life."

A light slowly flickered in his eyes as he looked at Hades—

Makado, standing beside them, suddenly coughed violently, interrupting Hades before he could speak.

"Hades still has a mission entrusted to him by the Empire, and he probably won't be able to go to the Five Hundred Worlds for a while. Guilliman, you're too impatient."

Guilliman smiled.

[It was just a joke to lighten the mood.]

"I really hope this isn't a joke."

Hades said solemnly,

"Then it isn't. Macragge will always welcome you, Hades."

Out of the corner of his eye, Guilliman saw Macardo tighten his grip on his scepter again. Why was Macardo reacting this way to Hades's trip to Macurag?

"Thank you for the invitation, Guilliman. I have always dreamed of going to Macurag to see the brilliance of human civilization."

Hades flashed a very bright smile.

It looks like Makado is about to deliver another blow to Hades.

4 words today, that's it! Yay!

Chapter 327 recounts an operation by the Death Guard, but the Eldar...

[War Commander? Not interested.]

"Motalian said slowly, glancing at Fernus and Vulcan beneath his hood before casually looking away," he said.

He seemed to be provoking Phenus, yet he didn't. Vulcan sensed the magma surging beneath Phenus's cold exterior. He sighed and changed the subject.

Perhaps we should look at our next target, planet 154-4, which is called Ibsen in the local people's ancient language.

【Wait a moment. 】

Mortarian opened his arms.

I need to clearly define who is leading this war—that will save me a lot of trouble.

Vulcan opened his mouth,

【I. 】

Before he finished speaking, Mortarian narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting questioningly between Vulcan and Finus, seemingly disbelieving that Vulcan was the mastermind behind the war.

Judging from the auras of the two Primarchs, Fernus seems more like the leader.

In fact, Vulcan did not understand why he was chosen as the leader; Finus was more suitable than him, but the Ministry of War still chose him.

Mortarian remained silent for a moment, silently noting this illogical arrangement. Then, the Lord of Death shifted his sharp gaze and spoke again, his tone casual.

Regardless of whether they are candidates for Warlord—in the upcoming war, as long as the tactics are sound, the Death Guard will cooperate with your plans.

Vulcan pursed his lips, recalling the scene he had witnessed with Mortarion, the burning hive city, and the rumors... of humanity's planet being destroyed by the extinction order.

Even though Mortarian now gives him the feeling of a scythe wrapped in layers of rags, he appears so unassuming overall, but he always reveals a vicious glint in unexpected places.

[Motalian, you cannot... use poison gas weapons, nor can you use weapons that cause regional pollution. Be careful not to harm civilians—although this planet is currently ruled by the Eldar, the Imperium needs it to remain intact; we need its resources.]

Mortarian remained silent, the poisonous fog surrounding him seemingly about to completely envelop him.

They heard two heavy breaths from beneath the gas masks. Mortarian looked like he was about to retort, but the next moment—

【it is good. 】

Mortarian agreed, giving them a gloomy look.

Send me the remaining information and tactics.

The Lord of Death left without a word.

【well said. 】

Fernus patted Vulcan on the shoulder.

He needs to realize that war is not a game where he can do whatever he wants; we need to consider the casualty ratio.

Vulcan smiled, but the next moment—

[Perhaps the Salamanders should also reduce their use of fire elemental weapons. What do you think of this suggestion, Vulcan?]

Vulcan's smile vanished, well, he muttered.

----------

The Death Guard was deployed in the Ibsen ice field. The good news is that apart from some primitive people running around in animal skins, there were no other traces of humans there.

This saved the Lord of Death a considerable amount of trouble. Mortarion still remembered the day he first met Vulcan and Fernus—Fernus was an efficiency-obsessed bastard, and Vulcan's damned empathy was completely at odds with his rugged appearance.

The first meeting of the three Primarchs was a complete disaster. Mortarion didn't want to recall that memory anymore. It was all in the past. Galaspa was fine now, and he needed to face his two damned brothers again. Knowing that was enough.

Their enemy this time was the Eldar. The Eldar, Mortarion slowly chewed on the word. He certainly remembered what the Eldar had done; he was a vengeful man.

He would tear them apart—which somewhat distracted Mortalian from his dissatisfaction with working with these two "brothers".

The Lord of Death cast his gaze upon this icy continent.

The bizarre and enormous Eldar creations rose from the snow-covered ice plains, their obelisks engraved with mysterious runes and inlaid with countless fist-sized gems. Under the detection of the bird servants, a hazy psionic aura enveloped these blasphemous structures, preventing troops from landing directly.

Mortalian knew why the Death Guard had been sent to this planet—psychic powers? He and the Death Guard were experts at it.

He casually scribbled on his pristine white map, connecting the nodes and calculating—Motalian fell silent.

The obelisks guided him to the answer; the core of these nodes lay in the rainforest, in the war zone controlled by the salamanders.

Mortarian briefly recalled the size of the Salamander fleet and the number of its warriors during their recent meeting.

He suddenly realized... Death Guard might need to be moved faster. These nodes are often interconnected, and Mortarion didn't want to witness failure, nor did he want others' failures to interfere with his own.

With the return of the last reconnaissance squad previously dispatched, Mortarian began his war.

As a prelude to the war, flashbangs and low-toxicity stink bombs were first thrown at human tribes along the Death Guard's route.

Mortarian watched expressionlessly as the damned savages howled and ran wildly across the ice plains. Guided by the wind and the stench, most of the savages scurried into corners that the Lord of Death paid no heed to.

This is enough.

Next, when the storm clouds that had shrouded the icy plains on the Bird Servant finally dissipated, the tanks, their armor plating gleaming with six-ringed spiked skulls, charged onto the continent—

The specially widened, rough tracks of the foundry left ruts on the white earth, while the dull bone white of the Death Guard armor occasionally flashed between the vehicles.

The roar of the Stormbird's engines echoed over the ice field, maintaining a 15-kilometer lead over the armored forces on the ground. Their situation was far more dangerous than that of the ground troops, as the reflection of the snow from the ice field would greatly impair the drivers' vision in clear weather.

The sonic waves spread across the vehicle's aviator, and the air force successfully marked any suspicious landmarks and bunkers on the ice plains. Unlike the usual enemies, the cunning Eldar had concealed themselves in the vast ice plains, with only obvious troop deployments at the obelisk nodes, the rest of the area was a white wasteland.

From the safe landing point protected by the orbital fleet, the Death Guard forces are approaching the Legion's first target node at top speed.

On the Endurance, Mortarian stared at the complex real-time map, his withered fingers resting on the channel switch—

In the vast sky, the biting cold wind began to become turbulent.

Mortalian's voice rang out along with the bird-servant alarm of the lead airship.

【Galo, D3.】

After a dazzling spatial distortion, a roaring psionic bolt struck the Death Guard's Stormbird formation. The aircraft immediately scattered, and the lead plane dodged most of the lightning with a beautiful barrel roll, but its wing was still hit. Thick smoke billowed as it began to make an emergency landing.

The Stormbirds behind it immediately filled the gap, aiming at the psionicly distorted space, and unleashed a barrage of heavy explosives.

Blood and screams rang out together, wings flapped against the sky, and a group of pterosaurs suddenly appeared in the sky, their deep red iron scales dense and smooth.

On the back of the largest dragon, a Spirit Priest raised his scepter and chanted a spell in a high-pitched voice.

The Death Guard's Stormbirds began to retreat, hoping to create distance and deal damage from a distance, but the dragons' mobility was clearly superior to the fighters.

In an instant, the pterosaurs' sharp claws tore at the fighter jets, clinging tightly to the outside of the warship. Limited by the angle, the Stormbirds could not directly attack the pterosaurs wrapped around their fuselages. Blinding flashes of light erupted, and several massive metal machines crashed onto the icy plains.

In the sky, fighter jets began dogfights with the Pteranodons, while on the snowfield, Garo stood at the forefront of the armored formation, raising his one-handed sword high. Behind him, tanks slowly raised their cannons. The Death Guards operated in groups of three, with the foremost member carrying a heavy rocket launcher mount.

"emission!"

Missiles roared through the sky, leaving countless white trails of smoke in their wake.

"Foolish monkeys! All you can rely on are your brutal steel monsters!"

The Eldar cursed loudly, waving his scepter and directing the pterosaurs to dodge the missile barrage. The pterosaurs deftly dodged the missiles hurtling towards them, preparing to continue their attack on the Stormbirds.

"boom!"

The first dazzling firework exploded in the sky, and scattered pieces of burnt pterosaur carcass fell down.

The Eldar turned around in astonishment, his trembling pupils reflecting the fiery rain that had turned away.

He would never know that the Death Guard's rocket launcher system was provided by the Greiel Forge World and later modified by Hades Forge Master. And Greiel's most famous technology was its automatic missile tracking system.

The Eldar raised his scepter, chanting incantations. A undulating giant net enveloped the dragon horde centered around him. Gara kept a close eye on the Eldar. Dozens of fireworks struck the target, but the enemy's life markers did not disappear amidst the thick smoke.

Galo spoke, gripping his sword tightly, preparing for the second wave of attack.

"Enrique, hurry up."

"I know, don't rush me!"

The blacksmith's furious voice rang out from the other end of the channel, but Galo ignored it. He raised his sword and shouted.

"emission!"

Fire and rain erupted simultaneously.

At the other end, in the middle of the armored group, Enrique, with a stern face, squatted down, carrying a rocket launcher that was much larger than those used by the Death Guards.

Behind him, Tech Sergeant Pasteur seemed oblivious to everything, staring intently at the Eldar in the sky, constantly adjusting parameters through his eyepiece.

The pterosaurs swarmed through the thick smoke, psionic fluctuations distorted space, and blinding sunlight reflected off the snowfield with a light that was almost blinding.

Pasteur pulled the trigger.

The enormous missile soared into the sky, and even at high speed, the words "Gift of Hades" could be faintly seen hastily written on its body.

Another troublesome missile. The Eldar focused their attention, and the shield, identical to the previous one, appeared.

Then he saw a dog wagging its tail at him, painted on the missile's nose.

And then, for this Elven race, that was the end of it.

Hades' Gift was successfully delivered to Deathguard's "friends." The dust exploded, and the leaderless Pterodactyl swarm was quickly wiped out in a combined attack of missiles and Stormbirds.

Galo felt the warmth emanating from the sky as he pointed his sword forward.

"go ahead!"

His response was the roar of a tank engine.