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

Page 269

No one got up, no one spoke.

Above, the sun silently shines upon all things in the world, casting its light upon the earth with equality and justice.

Angelte breathed, feeling his limbs, feeling the acrid air in the wind. Time stretched out, and finally, he slowly stood up.

He was the first to stand up, his power armor creaking.

Angertai looked around blankly. He saw the desolate and wild land, the perfect city whose embers had been extinguished, the vast and clear sky, ashes, and ruins... He saw that they were here, and there was no one else here.

He turned his head and saw their father, motionless. He saw the two straight spears, with the hounds on them baring their teeth and glaring angrily, warning any mortal who dared to approach.

Angertai began to walk, heading towards their father, whom he hadn't seen in a long time. Angertai dragged his feet slowly, the sand rustling softly beneath his feet like the gentle rustling of blankets as people slept.

It all happened so suddenly; they were as if waking from a dream.

As Angeltai walked, Sol, the company commander of the 34th Company, also stood up, followed by the second, the third... They stood up, feeling themselves in a daze.

More and more people stood up, their gray armor gleaming in the sun like a shimmering gray ocean.

Finally, Angertai walked to the front of the line. Behind the last three kneeling men, he saw large patches of blood and flesh spread out beneath Colphalan, whom he despised, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

He saw Eribas—unbelievable, the most respected chief priest of a legion could be… a cultist, the obscenities escaping his mouth as repulsive as dried-out pieces of his entrails.

Iribus's head was held high, and the corpse's bulging, shriveled eyes stared directly at the sun, like the eyes of a dead fish, but far emptier than a dead fish. It was just an empty shell; something like a soul had vanished from within the corpse.

Angelte swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that he was standing... in the place where that being had once stood, facing the kneeling one—standing behind the kneeling person was... a feeling that was hard to describe.

What was He thinking as He walked past thousands of kneeling people?

...who controls everything...

But this thought was quickly banished by Angelte. He should not be disrespectful to the Primarch. He took two quick steps and walked to Luo Jia's side.

Angertai opened his mouth, staring at Aurelion, his father. Luo Jia was dazed, traces of dried blood and tears sliding down his cheeks. He was like a living sculpture, without thought or intention.

"...my father?"

The sculpture moved slightly, and Angerte understood the Primarch's meaning. He reached out and helped the Primarch to his feet.

Luo Jia stood up. The Primarch didn't say anything or reveal anything. He just turned his head and Luo Jia first looked at Colfaren on his right side behind him—the corpse had its head hanging down, nailed to the spot as if atonement.

Colfaren, his former adoptive father, kept calling out Luo Jia's name in the last few hours before he died.

Luo Jia's lips trembled, his eyes were already dry, and in the end he said nothing.

Then he looked at Irebas… The moment his gaze met Irebas's, Luo Jia's eyes felt as if they had been stabbed by a piece of charcoal-roasted torture device. He stared incredulously at the corpse, which had been twisted beyond recognition from its struggle, and heard the roar from the darkness echo in his ears.

This reminded him of darkness, and the Primarch flinched briefly. The connection between his thoughts and body was too awkward; his mental flinch did not elicit any physical reaction from his body.

On the desolate ruins, two corpses were impaled and nailed to the spot, becoming a permanent marker.

Do not……

Luo Jia opened her mouth with difficulty, her chapped lips torn open, and blood trickled out.

No...he needs...he needs...

Take them with you.

Luo Jia said.

This finally drew the Primarch's attention to the Word Bearer beside him, Angletai... His name suddenly popped into the Primarch's unfamiliar mind.

His offspring obediently carried out his orders with an almost imperceptible caution—was he afraid? Was he afraid of Luojia?

Luo Jia's eyes never closed once. They were wide open, bloodshot eyes that almost obscured his golden pupils, which reflected the scene of Angeltai pulling out the black spear.

After a few hissing sounds that tickled the cerebral cortex, the long stick sticking with flesh and blood was pulled out, and Irebas's corpse slowly, slowly fell to the ground, with flesh and blood flowing out from it, accompanied by an astonishing stench.

Angeltai gripped the spear somewhat helplessly, while his offspring turned around, as if asking Luojia what to do next.

A slight smile twitched at the corner of Luo Jia's mouth, and the bloodstains beneath his eyes became even more conspicuous.

“We…we need to repent.”

--------------

"Well,"

Hades was holding a piece of Macurag specialty pastry between two fingers, with several more pieces clearly still in his mouth. He tried to swallow them before speaking.

"They've pulled out those two black spears. Shouldn't we go down and take a look, or at least give Huaiyan a few more instructions?"

Given that the City of Perfection was still burning, the Word Bearers were filled with grief and indignation, the Ultramarines were on the verge of despair, and the one in the know—he and the Emperor—were resting in this small house, eating Macragge specialties—Hades felt a sense of unreality…

But who cares? The emperor is resting here, what can Hades do?

He looked at the Emperor, who was sitting upright, holding a beautifully patterned teacup with a gold rim. He was sipping tea, but Hades felt that even after he had been sipping for a long time, the water level hadn't dropped much.

The Emperor glanced indifferently at Hades, then took another sip of tea.

"Luojia needs no further guidance. As the original body and my offspring, he will repent on his own."

Hades gave him an expression that said, "I just don't believe it."

"I still suggest you say a few more words—or at least confirm that his mental state is stable—before leaving him."

“I have chosen my messenger, and that lady will not disappoint us. Hades, you are too suspicious.”

Hades's expression now could only be described as one of grief and indignation. Was he suspicious? Wouldn't anyone be more cautious? Or was it more accurate to say that the Emperor was too confident? Hades lowered his hand holding the pastries and began to retort.

"Nyos, perhaps you're too arrogant—"

“You should get used to his way of speaking, Hades; that’s not what he meant.”

The door to the small room was pushed open, and a weary-looking Makado strode in. Hades silently withdrew his Dark Domain and moved to the side of the large sofa where he was sitting.

Macardo glanced at him, and Hades suspected that Macardo was going to insult him, but the old man ultimately said nothing; he simply jumped up and sat at the other end of the long sofa.

As it turned out, the furniture that Killieman used to entertain guests was quite comfortable.

The emperor spoke.

"How's Killieman, Makado?"

Macado's deep eyes gazed at the Emperor.

“I insist that you need to talk to him. He is lost, my lord, and he is trying to pull himself out of the quagmire of confusion—I think it would make things much easier if someone gave him a hand at this time.”

The Emperor remained silent. Hades handed Macado a cup of tea, then continued eating snacks and watching the show. A night of vigilance was exhausting. Hades had been listening for strange noises from the Warp, ready to strike at any moment.

“I think you are enough to comfort him, Makado.”

The Emperor spoke slowly, but Macado, holding his teacup, shook his head.

“My identity limits me from going any further. There are some things that only you can say, my lord.”

The emperor's gaze fell upon Hades.

"What about him?"

Macardo slammed his hand on the armrest of the sofa with a loud thud, startling Hades beside him.

“You can’t do this, my lord. Hades may be eloquent and glib, but we should be careful about his position now. Not only will Guilliman not listen to Hades’ advice, but even if Hades were to stand in front of Guilliman now, he would need to spend time and energy to think about and process this matter!”

Makado's voice softened again.

“Killiman is a very good man at heart, but he sometimes overthinks things… He is a competent politician, but reality often cannot accommodate overly rational people… This world is not rational, my lord, you need to reconsider this matter.”

The emperor paused, still looking at Hades.

“I think Hades would be perfect for this… Let’s play a little game, Hades, give me my little finger bone.”

Hades silently wiped his hands, then took out a necklace from his neck and handed it to the Emperor.

“I suggest that if Makado insults me again next time, he should at least avoid me.”

“I also hope you will stop making outrageous statements, Hades.”

Makado said with a sneer, and Hades immediately opened his mouth to retort.

“What did I say? I rarely speak, and what I said was all true—”

"Not as good as Macurag?"

Hades suddenly stopped, and then words like "I'm telling the truth, you're right, old man, you're going too far" came out of his mouth.

Although Hades was still not used to the Emperor's grammar, Macado and the Emperor were already used to it... Perhaps it was because he talked so much. The Emperor silently removed the little finger bone from the wire and placed it on the coffee table in front of the three of them.

"Whoever your fingertip points to, that person will go and counsel Guilliman."

Makado let out a huge sigh, and the old man helplessly slapped his leg.

"You always do this, my lord, you can't—"

The emperor blinked, a rare smile appearing in his eyes. He looked at Hades.

"What do you think of this idea, Hades?"

Hades opened his mouth, "Huh? So casually?"

He glanced at Makado, who was clearly speechless and shut up. Hades paused for a moment...

"Sure—but let me turn the wheel."

"it is good."

The emperor readily ceded it.

"Two against one, Macado, you lost."

He looked at Macado, whose eyes seemed to be choking Hades. He had always thought Hades was the epitome of reason, so why was he acting so recklessly now? Shouldn't he be with Macado trying to persuade the Emperor? Didn't he know that the Emperor would always win these games—that guy had psychic powers?

The psionic being was now confidently holding a cup of tea.

But Hades seemed oblivious to Macado's resentful gaze; he was focused on the little finger bone, his hand resting on it.

"Three, two, one—begin."

His finger bones spun on the coffee table, and the emperor's smile drooped imperceptibly, but he still looked confident of victory.

Macado remained silent, staring solemnly at the Emperor. Crackling psionic lightning began to appear around him, and frost quickly crept onto the surface of the teacup.

Hades, seemingly oblivious to this, continued to watch with tense anticipation the spinning little finger bone, which began to slow down.

“Macado,”

Hades suddenly spoke.

"Don't insult me ​​in front of me next time, or I won't help you anymore."

Makado was taken aback. He instantly understood Hades's meaning. The old man gritted his teeth and snorted in agreement—the next moment, that familiar yet nauseating feeling enveloped them.

The emperor's smile vanished completely, and a faint golden light flashed instantly. Time was running out; he was about to—

Macardo's psionic energy surged instantly, directly suppressing the Emperor's forward-reaching psionic energy.

He looked at Macado, who was now wearing a mocking smile.

The Emperor directly smothered Makado's psionic energy and swiftly moved forward—

"Nyos, it's you."

The finger bone had stopped pointing straight at the Emperor. Hades, seemingly unaware of anything, chuckled as he pointed at the finger bone and looked at the Emperor.

The emperor's lips twitched, but in the end he said nothing. He slammed his teacup down on the coffee table, then got up and left.

Hades and Macado turned to watch him leave.

After the Emperor left, Macardo let out a weak sigh.

"How did you do that, Hades? Your Dark Domain only cuts off psionic energy; it can't do what psionic energy can do, can it? Don't tell me you're just gambling with luck."

Hades slowly wrapped his necklace around himself and then put it on.

“I am a first-rate master foundry, Makado.”

Hades picked up a pastry from the pastry box.

“Give me the shape of the object, its mass, the coefficient of friction of the surface, and the wind speed—and I can calculate how I should play with it. That’s science, Makado.”

"This is science, you two psionic swindlers."

Makado felt his liver throbbing with anger again, but Hades... Makado still couldn't refute Hades as always.

In the end, he could only watch Hades quickly devour Macrag's snacks, unable to utter a single word in rebuttal.

4k words, that's all for today!!!