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

Page 224

Hades pulled out a stack of documents and patted it lightly on Gara's shoulder.

“I know you don’t like crowds, but we have to do it this way. It has to have both a cleansing and an educational effect.”

Galo took the relevant information from Hades, nodded silently, and left.

Hades stared thoughtfully in the direction Garo had gone, already able to foresee the bloodstains splattered on the combat company commander's power armor.

To be honest, compared to Vox, Garo is not good at handling political documents, but the Death Guard's management only has a few people, and they lost a lot of people after the Battle of Galaspa, so Garo knows that he has to step up.

Hades could still sense that Galo had a temper at the beginning, but now, for some reason, she had probably worn down her temper in the office and no longer had that outward ferocity.

Well... let Hades train the next batch of managers, and let Galo go out and experience the battlefield more.

Fortunately, the administrative staff recruited in Galaspa have been able to select a group to join the legion after experiencing several years of combat.

Hades pondered Barbalus's next move; he still had to meet those people and do those things.

Hades finished the bread quickly, clapped his hands, stood up, and turned to look at Mortarian.

Mortarian was still looking at the documents, but Hades couldn't help but think he was daydreaming.

"Motalian, what did you want? I was just too busy."

Beneath the shadow of the hood, in the deep-set eye sockets, those eyes shifted from the official documents and stared thoughtfully at Hades.

"fine."

Finally, Mortarian said slowly.

He had been listening to Hades' conversation with the Death Guardians; Hades was telling those little brats about the history of Barbaros.

To the Primarch's surprise, Barbaros's current situation does not seem to be what he expected.

Most people came to Barbarostos on dangerous civilian ships, risking the perils of subspace travel, in order to survive and further develop.

Most of the humans who want to settle in the Barbarus system come from nearby dead worlds or planets that have just been ravaged by war.

Some were adventurers hoping to achieve something; some wanted to travel the world with wandering merchants, some wanted to cooperate with mechanical sages, and some even came to Barbarus hoping to join a legion.

Joining a legion is a widely held belief in human settlements here.

After all, the gravediggers responsible for maintaining order and security here are too mysterious and too powerful. In the years before the Death Guard Legion arrived, these taciturn individuals had become the embodiment of the legion in the hearts of ordinary people.

While Mortarion doesn't want those who live in greenhouses, the Lord of Death might consider it if it's a world of death.

Mortalian thought irritably, "Those fleets just now were also welcoming the arrival of the Legion. Most of them had never even seen or known the Death Guard's actions, yet they dared to rush up to welcome us so rashly."

But at least they weren't hostile; perhaps that's just human recklessness. He forgave them.

Apart from those high-ranking officials and nobles.

Mortalian is inherently at odds with those who wield power and money; according to the Primarch's likes and dislikes, these guys should be hanged immediately.

But Galaspa's atrocities brutally revealed the truth to Mortalian: if they wanted to develop, instead of struggling in ruins, then the existence of those people was necessary and inevitable.

If the Primarch still hoped that humanity's future would arrive in peace and tranquility, then he could not send them all to the gallows.

According to Hades' explanation to the Death Guards, the nobles had come here aimlessly, mainly to discuss technology with the Mechanicians and engage in trade.

The main purpose was still to see the legion's attitude.

Mortarian recalled Hades's words from earlier.

"Compared to more benefits, those who have already controlled a region are more worried about the overthrow of their power. Therefore, when they face the army of the empire, which is hundreds of times more powerful than them, most rulers choose to surrender directly and obediently pay tithes in exchange for the consolidation of their power."

"But to be honest, when the imperial armies conquer and go far away, leaving behind uneasy rulers, their hearts will always be hanging over them—"

"—Until a clear regional power emerges, representing the Empire, teaching them how to submit step by step, instructing them on the rules called the Empire, and guaranteeing their safety."

"And this being will be the Death Guard, it will be Barbaros."

“The powerful have privileges. They will try to figure out the Death Guard’s attitude. They will give way. The Death Guard has supreme power before the bottom line they set in the first place.”

"We can even test their bottom line and force them to back down step by step."

Hades gave a friendly smile to the Death Guards around him.

"After all, power and money are byproducts of violence. As a legion, we are the most violent force in the empire."

Although Hades did not hang those people, Mortalian felt that Hades had already mentally sentenced them to death.

But Hades is right, those people will submit to the Death Guard, and if Mortarion dislikes a certain trait of theirs, then they will change.

Mortarian pondered Hades' words slowly. Compared to the justice the Empire had taught him, the Lord of Death found it easier to accept the naked, cold truth.

If you put a sickle to everyone's neck, everyone will listen to you.

Mortalian knew this well, he thought, and the relationship between planets was nothing more than an extension of this concept.

But Mortarion was misled by appearances, entangled by deliberately complex and obscure words, and deceived by the smiling faces of the rulers. This gave the Lord of Death the illusion that everything was out of control.

But no, beneath the chaotic surface, the underlying logic is that Barbaros is the homeworld of the Death Guard, and the Death Guard possesses the most powerful violence in the region.

This means the Death Guard can do whatever they want here, and Mortarion controls the Legion, which means Mortarion can do whatever he wants.

But Mortalian didn't want to act rashly again. Galaspa's "atrocities" constantly reminded him that he couldn't turn Barbalus back into ruins.

Perhaps he should go and see for himself, instead of sitting here and relying solely on his own thoughts.

Mortalian sat there, pale-faced. Hades had just been encouraging those Death Guard brats to investigate, and perhaps he should go and see what was going on.

However, Mortarian glanced at Hades, who was humming a tune and organizing the documents scattered on the floor.

Hades, who could utter those words about power and violence, was terrifying. Terrifying in another dimension.

Fortunately, Hades was a Death Guardian and had no ill intentions towards Mortarion.

Yes, code

Chapter 269 Returning Home, Street Strollers, Scaring the Kids

The corn in the field is growing very lushly.

Walking along the ridge of the field, Hades thoughtfully stretched out his hand, and the corn leaves brushed against his arm, making a rustling sound.

The corn seedlings, after being transformed by the sages, have grown noticeably taller. These originally short white corn plants are now taller than a person. They used to reach Hades' chest, and now they still do.

The fields were quiet and deserted. Barbarosians were as few as ever. In the distance, a large agricultural trailer was rumbling, and further still, at the edge of the field of vision, a sickle silently gleamed.

That is the sculpture of Mortarion. It was entirely a spontaneous proposal by the Barbarus. While the Death Guards were fighting in foreign lands, the Barbarus, who were gradually becoming wealthy, launched a crowdfunding campaign and used the funds raised to erect a tall statue.

This towering Mortarian stands in the heart of Barbarossa's most prosperous city.

Hades and Mortalian, who have no artistic talent whatsoever, could never have produced something like this.

Hades narrowed his eyes and stared at the sculpture.

This is not the Legion's Mortarion; he is not wearing power armor. On the contrary, he is the Barbarus Mortarion. This tall, withered scarecrow wears light armor crafted by Barbarus artisans, and a linen hood covers his eyes, obscuring the true face of the Lord of Death.

He held a sickle, pointing it at the highest mountain peak.

"A very good idea," Hades thought, remembering the blank expression on Mortarion's face when they had just descended in the Stormbirds, saying they wanted to investigate him.

Hades stood beside Mortalian, pointing at the large sculpture, and he was certain he was trying his best to suppress a laugh.

"Motalian, this is the symbol of the Barbarians' love for you!"

The Lord of Death seemed to want to say something, but Mortarion stared at the sculpture for a long time before finally managing to utter only a few words.

"Unnecessary and useless"

But that didn't stop Mortalian from circling the large sculpture several times, then staring at the flowers offered by people at the foot of the sculpture and talking to himself for a while.

The Primarch, looking dazed, strolled beneath his massive sculpture, completely unaware that the Barbarus were gathering in increasing numbers in the plaza. It seemed Mortalian would have to deal with the trouble he had caused himself. The astute Hades made a quick escape; with Vox and the Gravekeeper by his side, Mortalian would be safe.

He didn't want to watch the massive fan meet-and-greet for Mortalian that was coming up; he'd seen enough of that back in Barbaros.

So Hades left a few words and then ran away.

Hades is more suited to deserted wastelands than populated areas, even though Barbarus no longer has any nominal wastelands; it's either grassland or farmland.

Anyway, Hades didn't interact with people much when he was on Barbarossa.

Having escaped Mortarion and his group, Hades enjoyed a rare moment of leisure. He first went to the site of the former cemetery based on his memory. Due to the change in terrain, it had now become a lake. The azure lake water calmly reflected the clouds in the sky and also calmly watched Hades.

It's nice; this place is quite quiet.

Hades squatted down and stirred the lake water with his hand. The ripples slowly spread out and soon calmed down again.

Hades looked at his reflection in the lake. War is a waste of time; before you know it, another person's life has passed.

Lysa also died on the Barbarus Ring. As a pioneer of community healthcare on the Ring, her body was preserved in the largest hospital on the Ring.

He even considered burying Lysa with her, but little Lysa had her own plans.

Hades thought about it and realized that what he had done was also inhumane. He had taken both of Lysa's children to the battlefield and left none behind. It was as if he had cut off Lysa's lineage, and Lysa's old age would be a problem.

Lysa didn't scold him either; she probably didn't dare to.

If she didn't scold him then, she won't have the chance to scold him now.

Hades idly splashed around in the water for a while longer, finding it pointless to linger with the dead, so he left.

Although it was nice not to have to listen to speeches by Mortalian, Hades didn't really know what to do when he slipped away. He just stayed in the Legion, working like a beast of burden, and apart from eating, he didn't develop any hobbies.

Hades glanced thoughtfully at the white corn beside him; although it wasn't ripe, he could...

No, that won't do. He can't just pluck and eat someone else's crops. Hades still has some sense of shame, integrity, and manners.

So Hades continued to wander around the fields, which served as a way to digest his food, even though he hadn't eaten.

Hades thought to himself, "If only the corn had grown this big back then, I wouldn't have to worry about what Mortalian would eat every day."

Look at how little Mortalian eats in the Legion now. Back then, he devoured the surplus food of an entire village and forced Hades and Karas to beg for food from other villages for him. Now he complains that Hades eats too much!

Hades strongly condemned this.

As Hades walked, he smelled a familiar aroma of roasted grains.

Uh?

Since he had nothing else to do, Hades strolled over and then suffered a shocking pupil dilation.

Is that another statue?

Damn it? !

The life-size statue carved from black stone is dim and lackluster. A tattered cloak covers his body. The statue sits hunched over on a stone, holding a tall sickle in both hands, as if he is watching over the fields, or as if he is simply asleep.

The familiar scent to Hades came from a small bag hanging on the scythe.

Is this him? Is this a statue of Hades?

Although much simpler than Mortarion's sculpture and only the size of an adult, it was still enough to shock Hades.

Mocking Mortarion, becoming Mortarion, thankfully Mortarion isn't here.

Hades clicked his tongue in amazement and circled his statue several times. He couldn't understand why he had a statue too.

Hades' initial reputation in Barbaros was so low that he was universally disliked; only a few people pitied him and were willing to chat with him.

Hades reached out and touched it. His sculpture's face was covered by a cloak, so there was no face sculpted. Tsk tsk, Hades wanted to see how handsome they could imagine Hades to be.

Hades indulged in a moment of self-admiration, then decisively removed the grain sack from his sickle. He was familiar with this method; the villagers used to give him rations this way back then, though they usually hung it on a wooden stick.

He didn't stand on ceremony; since it was all for Hades anyway, he would personally sign for the sculpture on his behalf.

The bag of cooked grains was soon empty. Hades pursed his lips, emptied the bag, and confirmed that it was indeed gone.

A rustling sound rang out, and Hades turned his head out of boredom, seeing a chubby-faced little boy carrying a stick emerge from the cornfield beside him. He looked to be about six or seven years old.

The boy saw Hades squatting next to the sculpture, looking like a street urchin, holding an empty grain sack. He pointed at Hades and then looked at the Hades sculpture with a shocked expression.

"Hmph," Hades thought, "little brat, worship him! Hades himself has arrived."

Then he saw tears welling up in the boy's eyes—

Hey, no! Why are you crying?!

"Don't cry, little one! What's wrong?"

Hades swore he used the gentlest voice and the calmest expression. He dared not stand up; with his size, standing up might frighten the other side.

"Brother is the Death Guardian. Tell me what's wrong, and I'll help you."

"Pah," Hades thought to himself, "You're an old man in your fifties, yet you still call yourself 'brother,' shameless."