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

Page 193

"Respond to me! Respond to me, my Lord!"

The sage shouted hoarsely, and above the blazing, bright furnace was the great sage's broken and rusty body. The dead hung swaying at the top of the furnace, as if mocking Ra's foolish faith.

La watched all this in despair, his despair pushing his consciousness to the brink of collapse, so much so that he didn't notice the slightest change—the corpse's finger twitched slightly.

The presence of the High Heavens watched over them, the clatter of gears began to resonate, metal wires twisted as if alive, flames struck the steel walls, steam and electric arcs were a beautiful song, and chaotic numbers ticked and danced, His consciousness looking down from the throne of the furnace.

The ignorant outsiders disrupted the established destiny, drawing disgust and disapproval from the gods. However, the laws imprisoned their authority over the physical realm. Since the gamblers changed the rules of the game, they too could drag in new variables.

Whispers arose amidst the chaos. Even in the war of the gods, there was an unspoken understanding, a tacit agreement kept hidden. The Lord of Change naturally delighted in noisy upheavals and reversals. The darkness behind the veil watched the newcomer, his whispers stirring up chaos throughout the entire galaxy.

He is the chosen variable.

No, this is a deal. One side of the scale is a ladder to climb, and the other side is the beginning of a broken empire.

The four highest seats in the subspace were too dangerous, and He was unwilling to agree to such a deal, especially since the ever-changing Demon Lord, who invited Him to sit there, had a sinister smile that spoke volumes about his sincerity.

Perhaps He shouldn't have entered this destiny so early, but the stakes He offered were tempting enough. For Vashtor, it was the first steam engine of the new era. After it, everything in the past was gone, and a new era was slowly unfolding.

The sweet scent tempted Him, and He signed a piece of His soul under the parchment of the transaction, for which the four gods paid the price.

And so He was here. With the guidance of the Lord of Stagnation, the gods on the other side of the transaction also had disagreements. Vashtor keenly sensed the anger beneath the calm surface of this god.

Words possess a unique charm, but names that imbue things with meaning are even more mysterious.

Rust, whose name means "rust."

When the Death Guard's legion arrives, the chord of meaning will reach its perfect peak.

The concept has reached its limit; what I seek may be able to stagnate within it.

"Feel sorry."

The Plague Agent He was speaking to spoke in a slow and polite voice, the Death Guard's bone-white paint already taking on a gorgeous and dreamlike pale color on his armor, like a vision after accidentally eating a poisonous mushroom.

"Please speak like a human being."

【.】

I seek the "Heart of Plague" here; it may be.

Heart of Plague, Ouroboros, Tuchucha.

This is the treasure promised to Him by the four gods, and also a sharp blade capable of overturning the Milky Way.

“Then what can I do for you, in His name?”

Death, rust, spread your rust as far as you can, let it corrode people's hearts. When enough mechanical sages have fallen into madness, my power will flow from the furnace.

"Thank you, I like this plan."

Rodon calmly tidied his potion bottles, while also inspecting the spearhead that could harvest gene seeds. Although it was covered with a thick layer of rust, it was still usable.

Besides spreading the plague, he would also collect some Death Guard gene seeds. With a sense of satisfaction, Rodan thought that he needed to return the Death Guard to its predetermined fate. Even if he couldn't do much now, he could at least save those seeds that hadn't been planted yet.

Having worked as a pharmacist, he knew that in such a chaotic battlefield, the recovery of gene seeds was not 100% guaranteed. The chaos and brutality of war would cause some corpses to be lost in the shadows, carrying the seeds with them.

In return for the seeds, Rodan gifted Mortalon a small boat covered in lush fungi, hoping the Death Guard would receive the gift and develop a great deal of curiosity about it.

Rodan specially collected different fungi from fourteen star systems and forty-nine different types of soil for this purpose. One small red fungus even had a cute little smiley face on it. They were especially beautiful when they emerged from the human body. Rodan hoped that Mortalian would like this gift.

Oh, of course, of course, he will help spread the rust disease, it's just that those who are away from home always miss their hometown the most.

The Three Sacred Treasures: Ouroboros (Caliban's secret), Tuchucha (the engine, the little boy's servant, in the original story it was with the Lion King, Karas tried to steal it but failed and left the scene), and the Plagueheart (the least known, almost none, it is known to have only appeared on a planet corrupted by the Death Guard in 41k, and Nurgle was also looking for this thing).

The three artifacts combine to become the Netway Excavator (known), capable of digging and digging, and has other functions, but these are currently unknown.

Chapter 233 Hello, Alien Race, Your Calamity Has Arrived (Part 5)

That day, Hades brought down death and redemption.

Hades led his armies, tearing open a bloody path to the main city. The flesh and blood of the alien races withered beneath his feet, and their mournful cries fell silent in the underworld. Darkness descended, but hope remained.

The living bear witness to great deeds, and the dead can rest in peace.

May the glory of Ohm Messiah endure forever. We witness miracles; we are His chosen missionaries for this new era.

Black sky and yellow sand, dust storms rising everywhere, the sky a vast expanse of yellow, obscuring the sun.

A violent explosion erupted from their long-lost wasteland, the sky trembled, and the alien fleet assembled, but under the sandstorm, no one knew what was happening there.

Fat mixed with blood and flesh dried up on the sand, every inch filled with corpses, the metal skeletons of the sages, sleeping eternally alongside the metal shells of the alien race.

He huddled tremblingly in the trench. They were all dead. It was all over. The front line he had held firm had collapsed. Tall aliens were searching for the last survivors in the trenches. Screams echoed from the other side of the yellow sand, constantly reminding him that he too was about to die.

Blood and rust mingled together, the pungent smell of rust filling his senses. He felt his inner self becoming chaotic, and bad thoughts were climbing up like madmen.

Footsteps sounded, and he could imagine the four-legged monster walking on the sand. He took a deep breath as silently as possible, clutching the molten bomb tightly to his chest. He was trembling, and the rough sand behind him was grinding against him.

For Om Messiah, for Om Messiah, he kept repeating in his heart, death is not scary, death is not scary.

The footsteps of the alien race grew louder; he was ready.

"boom!"

Gunshots rang out, followed by a sudden, abrupt silence and the whistling of blades cutting through the air.

[Hey, sage, reinforcements have arrived. Put down your bomb.]

The incoming radio waves carried the visitor's data. He opened his mouth, and it was a brand new legion name: Death Guard.

He stood up shakily, and a hand helped him pull him out of the trench. His sensors told him that a wall was standing in front of him.

Bright light shone from the distant wasteland, piercing through the swirling dust and shining against the Space Marine's armor, where the symbols of the Mechanicus and the Death Guard intertwined.

Behind him, the corpses of the alien race were piled up, blood seeping out, dripping, dripping.

An unusual feeling rippled through his soul, and he suddenly became calm, the boiling water subsided, carrying a suppressed chill.

It was as if his soul had breathed a sigh of relief in the deep sea, surrounded by high pressure and suffocation, but the malice above the water had gone far away.

"I am Hades, commander of the Death Guard, ordered to exterminate the alien race. I need your guidance, Sage."

Oh, O Messiah.

As Hades' army advanced, a ragged, battered column appeared on the outer edge of their ranks. These were the surviving sages, most of whom had been crushed in the previous war, which had rolled over them like a millstone. They were dazed and listless.

What troubled Hades was that the souls of these sages all had unstable parts to varying degrees. Just in case, he kept the Dark Domain diluted to the maximum extent possible, which would inevitably make the already fragile souls of those sages even more unstable, but the current situation did not allow for any other options.

The sages in the group would occasionally faint, while their companions continued to drag them forward, their parts and red robes trailing along the ground.

Under the guidance of the sage, Hades led the Seventh Company through the alien army surrounding the main city with ease.

No, that's just what they think.

Hades silently gazed at the skeleton of a manic, the thick rust like a second coat, breathing and growing.

The closer they got to the main city, the more obvious the traces of rust became. The orange-yellow rust even replaced the River of Blood, wriggling and climbing up the metal of the sages and the aliens.

The people and the alien races fighting here are no longer aware of their own consciousness. They fight each other in a daze, unaware that the rust crawling beneath their feet is the real deadly thing. In the areas where the rust is thickest, a single wound can allow the rust to cling to it and eagerly annihilate a soul.

This is why Hades and his forces are advancing so smoothly; both sides in this war are clearly disoriented.

Hades frowned and tried to probe the rust with the Dark Domain—sure enough, a rich aura of the Warp was attached to it.

[Warning: Psionic beings exist.]

Hades spoke up to remind them, while simultaneously spreading the dark domain further. They advanced cautiously, and wherever the troops went, large patches of yellowish rust withered away, leaving only dry remnants.

He looked up, and in the yellow sand, the outline of the main city was blurred, revealing an ominous aura.

Mortarian frowned.

"The armor of troops engaged in combat with the enemy is starting to rust rapidly?"

"Are you in quarantine?"

The apothecary Leo, sitting opposite Mortalian, nodded, giving Mortalian an affirmative answer. The Primarch pondered, "This sounds like some kind of disease, but why spread a disease that doesn't kill people?"

In the footage Leo sent, the isolation room was covered with a thick layer of rust. The spore-like rust even floated up and down in the air, stubbornly growing in the disinfectant prepared by the pharmacist.

Moreover, through battles with the enemy, Mortarian could determine that this was not a disease deliberately spread by the alien races; in fact, those alien races had also suffered greatly from it.

Normally, Mortarian would have left this matter to the apothecaries and technical sergeants, but he remembered the strange ship from before and couldn't afford to be careless at this moment.

"Galo, you are in charge of the current fleet battle. Remember to pay attention to Hades and his forces on Ruster Main Star and do not allow alien ships to provide support to the Main Star."

These alien races still couldn't understand or imagine this tactic of voluntarily sacrificing themselves. Mortarion easily allowed Hades' fleet to break through, at the cost of a small number of light cruisers used to confuse the enemy.

"Call the Zero Company over here. Pharmacist Leo, take me to check on the situation."

The troops responded quickly, or rather, Hades taught the Zero Company very well.

Led by the gravedigger, several towering mechs, a team of silent untouchables, and two strange oil guys, there couldn't be a stranger team.

Ignoring the slightly fearful untouchable mortals, Mortarion silently gazed at the towering mech. A familiar yet strange feeling echoed in his soul—disgust.

Lord Mortarion, we answer your call.

A strange female voice came through, and Mortarian was pleased to feel the boundless rage contained within it.

This one's short, there's one more today. Wait for me to finish writing, *sobs*

Chapter 234 Hello, Alien Race, Your Calamity Has Arrived (Part Six)

Rust is a scar on metal.

Hades raised his hand and fired a shot. The wandering figure in the distance immediately fell down, letting out a dying groan, but soon fell silent.

The battlefield was a scene of devastation, with the bodies of Mechanicus warriors and aliens piled together, blood seeping out and being submerged by layers of rust.

They entered through the corner most severely corroded by rust, because the alien army was weakest there.

The alien army did not immediately pour in from here in large numbers. The reason was simple: the rust prevented them from entering, and these sluggish aliens finally realized that something was wrong with Ruster.

Compared to the human empire they were facing, other things they did not understand entered this region, casting a shadow over the area, and rust indiscriminately slaughtering everything in its path.

Currently, the main force of the Memanic army is trying to bypass the heavily rusted areas near the main city, and the self-destructive Mechanicus has obviously also abandoned these areas.

A blank area appeared on the map, devoid of both friendly and enemy forces, which looked particularly comical.

This reminded Hades of those muddy battlefields, where, in the later stages when both sides were exhausted and logistics were scarce, plague and disease were the true reapers of death.

In a sense, Hades should thank the subspace properties within these rust marks—

As he cleared the way, the rusty marks withered beneath his feet. The Death Guards could ignore this, but the Sages pushed and shoved each other, carefully treading the path cleared by Hades.

As they drew closer to the main city, the harsh radio waves on the channel became more pronounced, and intermittent messages began to emerge.

[Rust Prevention. The Sage of Deva blasted open the oil storage tanks in the West Factory, completely blocking the road on the west side and bringing the spread of rust under control.]

[The Sage Lann used his Guardians to lead the Rusty army to the eastern battlefield, withdrawing the troops from the east.]

[They're using fire to stop them!]

Hades listened silently to the final words of these sages. Amidst the chaotic radio waves, a last vestige of reason emerged: people driven to desperation began to exploit the plague.

Even if the cost is the deaths of both sides.

The alien races also began to consciously prevent the spread of the plague. Their armies avoided the hardest-hit areas as much as possible, while using fire to eradicate the disease.

The situation was extremely chaotic. If the Memaniks did not capture the main city as soon as possible, they would ultimately gain nothing due to the outbreak of disease.

The Mechanicus, on the other hand, is like a dying patient who, even with his last breath, wants to spit infectious saliva on the faces of the alien race.

Without the intervention of the Death Guard, Hades could imagine the hellish scene that unfolded on this battlefield.

That's how war is. In the end, even the most advanced forces will end up wrestling and fighting in the mud. That's why chaos in the warp always wins.

Hades seemed to hear the mockery of the gods.

No, that can't be.

Based on the intelligence provided by the accompanying sage, Hades successfully learned the latest developments—

The western side of the city, where the rust is most severe, has fallen. A small alien squad entered the main city, but there is no news of them in the chaotic city at present, suggesting that they have been wiped out.

This is also the front line that Hades and his men have entered.

The eastern and northern sides of the battlefield were the most intense and also the least corroded by rust.

But the Mechanics had already begun to completely destroy the eastern front with rust, so it was decided to concentrate forces on the northern pass—where the defenses were most complete.

The south side had already fallen, but the Mechanicus had detonated a chemical plant there, and the pervasive radiation and toxic gases directly blocked the front line.