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

Page 216

"All the lords on Barbarossa, except those who died in the war, will, without exception, sacrifice themselves to the warp in a frenzy, heading towards a blasphemous demise."

"Stay away from psychic and sorcery until you are consumed by them."

Mortarian calmly looked at Magnus's single eye, where fragments of dark gold shimmered, while Magnus's pupils were pale gold.

He repeated it.

“Stay away from him, Magnus, until you are consumed by psychic energy and sorcery.”

“I don’t know—” Why would the emperor inflict such suffering on his son? He may be a tyrant, but you can choose not to listen to him.

Before Mortarian could finish speaking, Magnus suddenly stood up, glaring angrily at Mortarian.

His red sideburns flew through the air, and he seemed to grow even larger, his two massive ebony horns pointing furiously at Mortarion.

"What did you say?"

"You choose to deny everything simply because you only saw the foolish tyrant ruling you with psychic powers?"

Magnus walked up to Mortarian and looked down at him.

A strand of Magnus’s red hair fell into the bean soup in front of Mortarion, and the bean toad shrieked before sinking back into the swamp.

Mortarian took a deep, deep breath, his breathing mask emitting a dying groan.

Magnus was taller and stronger than him, and he could also use psionic powers.

Mortarian wasn't sure he could defeat him; perhaps one of his other brothers disliked psionic beings and could join forces against him.

Mortarian silently stood up from his seat. He was also tall, though not as tall as Magnus, but the oppressive aura of the Lord of Death was not to be underestimated.

Fortunately, he was at the very edge of the long table, and with just one big step, there would be no more obstacles between them.

Someone was screaming, but it didn't matter anymore. The surrounding noise became muffled and faint, and private communication channels crackled. Mortarian stared at Magnus.

Dorn seemed to be roaring at them to stop, and Guilliman's composed voice turned panicked for the first time.

Mortarian didn't hear the birdman's voice, but it didn't matter; he didn't care.

The angel swirled his wine glass and looked over there; now, that seat was empty.

"Apologize to me for insulting psionics and psionics."

A deep, furious roar came from Magnus's throat.

"I shouldn't have had any expectations of you; you're just another primitive man at the very end of the evolutionary spectrum."

"Do not."

"Motalian said softly."

“I stand by my opinion that psionicists deserve to be hanged, even now that we and the Empire still need them.”

His response was a surge of psionic arcs from the tip of Magnus's arm.

Mortarian spread his hands.

Yes, code

Chapter 257 This Demon Is Not That Demon

The moment the psionic spark ignited, everything seemed to slow down.

Mortals screamed and fled, while Space Marines tried to reach their Primarchs, but the distance was too great and time was too short.

Dorn roared, Guilliman shouted something, and the angel sipped his wine, observing everyone's situation.

To everyone's surprise, when faced with Magnus's attack, Mortarian simply raised his hands slowly, making a helpless shrug.

He did not attempt to block, resist, or dodge.

In response to Mortalian's seemingly mocking behavior, Magnus roared, and the brightness of his psionic arcs instantly increased, causing dazzling sparks to erupt throughout the hall.

If he had only intended to give Mortarian a warning earlier, now he needed to make his brother realize that psionic powers could really get him into trouble.

A burst of dazzling lightning erupted instantly, and the serpentine bolt of lightning shot straight toward Mortalian, its sharp fangs hissing as it bit into Mortalian's throat!

At the last moment, a mocking smile appeared on Mortarian's lips beneath his mask.

The angel stood up and grasped the sword at his waist.

—The Dark Domain Descends—

In an instant, or perhaps only an instant, everything in the hall turned gray, dull, and nauseating. All human voices vanished from their senses, and an indescribable sense of exhaustion clung to their souls.

But in an instant, that feeling vanished without a trace, as if everything that had just happened was everyone's illusion. People stopped what they were doing in surprise, looking at each other in disbelief and panic, as if asking what had happened.

No one dared to speak, and the entire banquet hall suddenly fell into a comical silence.

Even the Primarchs seemed to freeze in place. Guilliman and Dorn realized what was happening, but they didn't understand what it was.

His gaze was fixed on the center of the stage.

In front of Mortalian stood a hooded figure, raising a black scythe that emitted a dim light, which blocked the psionic lightning that was rushing towards Mortalian.

People dared not look directly at that presence; an intense sense of hatred prevented them from peeking into the truth. A few who mustered the courage to glance at it were blocked by the hood and the shadows.

They could only vaguely sense that a monster lurked in the shadows beneath the hood.

The giant python that had been hissing and baring its fangs was nowhere to be seen; it had vanished without a trace, leaving not a single mark.

Motarian spread his hands, seemingly recalling something amusing, and chuckled contentedly.

"You just asked me what we would use to kill the psionic species."

"Now you know."

Mortarian looked at Magnus defiantly.

Opposite Mortalian, Magnus trembled as he raised his hand, pointing to the figure before Mortalian.

"What is this?"

Dirty, blasphemous, incomprehensible, negative, and making Magnus want to vomit.

Magnus let out an angry and terrified scream.

"What's this?!"

A black hole, as if drawn in two dimensions, suddenly appeared in the vast ocean, emitting a hollow hum that Magnus found unbearable. He saw it; he had just witnessed it with his own eyes. People's emotions, fear, and panic were all being devoured by that monster.

This was blasphemy that Magnus had never known, that was never recorded in the vast ancient texts, that was a sin that no intelligent person could tolerate, that was scum despised by the gods.

Magnus even sensed the psionic seal emanating from his father around him. No, no, no, was Mortarion manipulating the monster his father had sealed away?

How dare he? How could he possibly dare?!

Magnus roared, his voice filled with boundless rage.

"Motalian, you...you're raising demons?!"

Mortarian raised an eyebrow. Hades seemed to chuckle, but Mortarian didn't know why Hades laughed; he only felt anger.

The Lord of Death's hoarse words were laced with rage.

"What the hell did you say?"

"What else could it be?! That's a demon! What are you doing?! Mortarian!"

Mortarian took a deep breath.

The anger in his eyes subsided, like the calm before a storm.

Mortarian lowered his head and grasped Hades' scythe in his hand.

The Lord of Death spoke to Hades,

"Lend me a moment."

Then Mortarion, with an undeniable force, snatched the obituary scythe from Hades' hand.

Hades looked at him in surprise, and the Primarch muttered something under his breath.

"You can just open the Black Domain."

Hades blinked, looking at his empty hands in surprise. No, huh?

But Mortarian, scythe in hand, strode toward Magnus. Surprisingly, Magnus retreated in the face of Mortarian's silent advance.

Mortarian took a step forward, and Magnus cursed as he took a step back, while the psionic sparks around Magnus grew brighter and brighter, as if as a warning.

Mortarian remained unmoved, his scythe pointing directly at Magnus, imbued with immense power.

Ahriman rushed over, leading the remaining few panicked Thousand Sons, but to Hades' surprise, they did not help Magnus, but instead surrounded Hades.

Hades swallowed hard, estimating the distance. If he wanted to cripple Magnus's fighting ability, the Thousand Sons around him could simply be forced to respawn.

Wait, someone help me! Where's Galo?!

Oh, Gara went to help Mortarion.

Hey!

Hades quickly assessed the situation. He couldn't fire his gun, and without the War Scythe, he was afraid that if he used the Dark Domain directly, he might accidentally kill Ahriman and the others, since psionicists still relied heavily on the integrity of their souls.

Hmm. Hades looked up and saw that the remaining three Primarchs had already begun to act. Well then, Mortalian, good luck!

Psychic energy flickered around Ahriman, who spoke calmly, but Hades could hear a faint tremor in his voice.

"You can't hurt my father, monster, what are you?"

Hades sighed.

"Just an ordinary untouchable."

The next moment, the lightning around Ahriman instantly dimmed, and a fist imbued with a dark aura rushed towards Ahriman.

"Calm down, you two, calm down."

The angel pressed Magnus down; the archangel's wings were fully spread, radiating a dazzling light throughout the hall.

"That's a monster! Sanguielles! You saw it too! Let me go! I'm going to catch it!"

“I don’t think Mortarion would be happy with your assessment of his offspring.”

Dorn and Guilliman held Mortalian down. Compared to Magnus, Mortalian was still struggling desperately, seemingly wanting to crawl over and slap Magnus across the face.

"What the hell did you say?! You filthy wizard?! You have the right to judge my commander?!"

"Shut up! Arguing over such trivial matters brings shame upon the Primarch!"

"You also represent the Empire!!!"

Dorn roared in fury, seemingly wanting to strike each of the two Primarchs with a sword.

At the last moment before Mortarion's scythe struck, the angel acted, parrying Mortarion's scythe with his sword and simultaneously flapping his wing to interrupt Magnus's spell.

Dorne and Guilliman followed closely behind Saint Gilles. The angel entrusted Mortalian to the two of them with peace of mind. Mortalian, who was only interested in killing Magnus and had nothing else in his eyes, was knocked down from behind by Dorne and then held down by the two Primarchs.

Magnus was also struggling, but the angel sensed that his struggles were not very strong. Saint Gilles seemed not to notice this and easily held Magnus down.

Guilliman sighed. The exhausted Lord of Macragge had no interest in joining his brothers' angry and childish trash talk. Through the communication channel, the Lord of Macragge directed the remaining panicked mortals.

The Ultramarines he brought, at his behest, restored and maintained order throughout the arena, minimizing the impact of the two Primarchs' fight.

On the other side, Hades looked at the fallen Senko with embarrassment. He scratched his head and gave an awkward smile to the Imperial Fist and the Holy Blood Angels who had originally come to break up the fight.

"Um... I didn't provoke them first."

Hades reached out, trying to show his sincerity as much as possible; he didn't even have a weapon.

He is innocent, forced to retaliate, has a legitimate reason, and should be acquitted.

However, he was still surrounded by Imperial Fist and Holy Blood Angel, like a prisoner caught on the spot, even though the victim was not dead and was still lying on the ground groaning.

"Stop yelling," Hades muttered to himself. He hadn't used his full strength, but these Thousand Sons were too reliant on psychic energy.

. . . .

Chapter 258 Farce (45K)

Many years later, when Horus sees a disgruntled, disheveled, and injured Mortarian and Coz, he will remember that distant afternoon when he pushed open the banquet doors and saw the chaotic scene.

At that time, Mortarian also had this expression.