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

Page 139

what happened?

[In the deepest part of Tomb No. 106, it opened its eyes.]

—This is the first time the Necromancer has intercepted Hades's message—

[Above, its gaze swept over with interest.]

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Chapter 156 Peturabo is also unhappy today.

Within the steel-blooded abyss, there was a deathly silence. The ticking of instruments continued, but the usually noisy conversations had all turned into quiet breathing.

The data was extremely poor. Peturabo was as silent as a dormant volcano, the cooled and accumulated dark gray rocks coating his surface with an expressionless mask.

But everyone knows that beneath that thick layer of rock lies a surging, erupting magma.

Although under Peturabo's command, the Iron Warriors had greatly reduced ship losses, apart from the initial cruiser fleet, most of the ships lost afterward were low-class and old types.

But this still cannot mask his failure.

With the Primarch's astonishing insight, Perturabo understood that in his countless calculations, if the opposing ships had not paused for that final moment, then the Steelblood's ammunition would have rained down at the last instant.

The Primarch was confident that Lady Glorious's firepower would tear these ships apart, but what if...

Realizing that his thoughts were slowly sliding toward the edge of this vortex, Peturabo felt his breathing becoming heavier. He managed to control his breathing because he couldn't; everyone else would always be happy to see him fail.

Therefore, he cannot reveal his failure.

A sudden communication request struck Peturabo's temples like a heavy blow; it was an unexpected request from the Death Guard.

it is as expected.

Peturabo chuckled inwardly. His brothers were always like this, climbing over each other's corpses to get ahead, seemingly harmonious on the surface but secretly mocking each other.

Moreover, this Primarch from an agricultural planet lacked even the most basic outward manners; Peturabo could already imagine Mortarion speaking in a cryptic, rural accent, speaking in a sarcastic tone.

The thought of what he was about to face filled Peturabo with anger and humiliation, like a surging wave washing over his soul.

He cursed under his breath. Peturabo wanted to smash something, tear something apart, rip off the ugly face on the other side, smash it, and make it cease to exist in reality.

Just like when he smashed that statue.

A clown trying to teach a fish to swim.

Just as Deathguard's communication request was about to reach the end of the timeline, the frozen Peturabo finally approved the request.

A crackling sound of electricity rang out, and the unstable figure characteristic of holographic projection appeared.

Peturabo hated the sound of the electricity; it was a symbol of instability, unpredictability, change, and fragility.

Fragile.

However, Mortarian's repulsive figure did not appear in the center of the image; his foul-smelling fumes lingered slowly at the edge of the picture.

The figure in the death shroud is in the center of the image. Unlike other death shrouds, his shoulder armor is engraved with the symbol of the Mechanicus, silently proclaiming his identity as a technical sergeant.

Perturabo frowned; he recognized it as the shroud of a dead man that Mortalian had brought to the Blood of Steel.

Apart from the Iron Hand and the Iron Warriors, these Mechanicus Space Marines do not hold high positions in other Legions.

In the Iron Hand, Phenus Manus allowed his men to follow the Mechanicus, which fostered good relations between the legion and the Martian Mechanicus.

In Iron Warriors, Perturabo despises the shabby, modified sages of the Mechanicus. Under Perturabo's instructions, the Iron Warriors have been working hard to develop their legion's technology in order to get rid of the restrictions these villains place on the legion.

Although he outwardly maintained good relations with many members of the Mechanicus, those "outsiders" were more likely to gain Peturabo's favor than the orthodox Mechanicus sages.

After a brief salute, the technical sergeant in the holographic projection spoke.

"Hello, Commander of the Iron Warriors Legion, I am Chief Death Shroud Hades."

The moment Hades spoke, Peturabo realized that the voice belonged to the person who had previously communicated privately with Danteok.

Peturabo's eyes narrowed, a sign that anyone familiar with the Primarch would recognize as dangerous.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the communication line, Hades was extremely cautious, as if walking on thin ice.

He tried to keep his voice calm and cold, like a machine... or like a space necromancer.

After experiencing the attack by the undead fleet, and seeing that the undead did not immediately launch a second wave of attacks, Hades quickly took advantage of this brief gap to contact the Iron Warriors, inquire about and discuss the next steps.

Mortarian readily allowed Hades to communicate, after all, he didn't want to see Perturabo or speak with him.

After witnessing the fleet led by Peturabo, Hades realized that Mortarion was somewhat depressed.

He wasn't quite sure, after all, it was almost impossible to discern any expression from the "face" of Mortalian, who was hiding his face like an autistic person.

He could only judge based on the Primarch's behavior. Since Mortarian did not immediately mock or "praise" Perturabo, Hades assumed that Mortarian was in a so-so mood.

Of course, it would be best to prevent the two Primarchs from meeting and speaking again. Hades was certain that during their previous meeting, Mortarion had genuinely considered whether or not to strike Perturabo with his scythe.

The movements of the Necromancers in space are still unclear, and the Death Guardians, which are lurking on the satellites of Mining Planet 106, are unable to detect the situation on Planet 106. The Iron Warriors still hold the reins of the war.

What Hades didn't know was that after the "pause," no new undead soldiers emerged from Unit 106, and the undead warriors who were standing on the ground were quickly eliminated by the Iron Warriors who had reacted.

For a moment, the entire battlefield became unusually quiet.

Apart from the occasional follow-up shots from the Iron Warriors and the metallic scraping sound of feet stepping on undead corpses, there was no other sound at the moment.

After the naval battle, Peturabo did not allow the Iron Warriors to continue their advance. Instead, he began to deploy medium- and high-altitude defenses, as well as trenches, and more trenches.

The reconnaissance team was released to take advantage of the brief gap to gather intelligence on the enemy.

These tasks consumed a portion of Peturabo's thinking, while his current focus and computing power were allocated to communications with the Death Guard.

Looking at Hades opposite him, he did not intend to speak.

Is this an insult? Mortarian's use of his subordinates to consult with him is a clear act of offense.

Although in some cases, the Primarch does indeed delegate deliberations between Legions to trusted offspring.

But Peturab still suspected Mortarian’s slow and sluggish malice, which was like a swamp bubbling with scum that made Peturab want to vomit.

He wouldn't speak first, wouldn't give the other side a chance to insult him. Perturabo hated that they weren't there so he could walk up to this audacious Death Guard, stand threateningly in front of him, and listen to the Death Guard's arrogant words.

"I am currently entrusted by Legion Commander Mortarion to be responsible for communication and coordination with your legion."

Hades spoke with neither humility nor arrogance, and Peturab could not detect any emotion in his voice.

"The situation is urgent, so please excuse me for skipping the pleasantries."

Of course, we still have to praise him; Hades knows this.

"I truly admire the Iron Warriors' naval battle just now. Such meticulous and large-scale command is truly breathtaking."

"It's hard to imagine that such meticulous operations could be carried out on such a complex and vast battlefield."

"I think most ordinary people probably wouldn't realize how ingenious this operation was."

Peturabo crossed his arms and stared at the other side.

It was just a compliment from an ordinary Space Marine. As the Primarch, he had heard it far too many times. This was something he deserved; it was unnecessary.

"As the commander-in-chief of this campaign, you must have a much better understanding of the enemy's situation than the Death Guard, after such a brilliant battle. Therefore, the Death Guard hopes to share information with the Iron Warriors and discuss the next tactics."

Although Hades sensed that Mortarion was quite displeased when he said that, in a sense, aside from Hades' knowledge of the spoilers, the Death Guard really knew very little about this alien.

This was the truth, the truth without sarcasm or malice, so Mortarian did not refute it.

Perturabo, still with his arms crossed, shifted his thoughts and went to deploy the trenches on ground 106.

He “watched” his offspring travel through the dusty mining area, their metal armor dimmed by the yellow sand.

Then Perturabo looked again at the Death Guard projection opposite him, its white and green paint job resembling those fragile and easily broken plants.

"In the upcoming battle, Deathguards will need to listen to me."

Peturabo delivered his verdict and then immediately shut down communications.

On the other end, Peturabo's projected image disappeared with a crackling sound of electricity.

Hades was certain that Mortarion had directly cursed Barbarus, and that Mortarion now most likely wanted to give Perturabo that unfinished scythe.

Of course, Hades also wanted to swear.

In reality, due to the limited number of battles they participated in (insufficient Legion seniority, late return of Mortarion), and the absence of the main fleet, the Death Guard was likely to play a supporting role in the upcoming battles anyway.

But Peturabo's statement was quite unpleasant.

However, less than a second later, Death Guard received a message stream from Iron Warrior.

The complex and detailed data was meticulously organized, marking the intelligence on the space zombies.

Numbers and high Gothic language leap across Death Guard's screen, calculating the image of an alien race.

Not only that, the topographical map of No. 106, as well as the cross-sectional view of the trenches that were under repair, were also sent over.

The information that followed was completely unexpected for Hades. He temporarily put aside his useless emotions and began to carefully study the information.

He blinked in surprise.

This means that Death Guard will most likely be going to fight on the ground.

After all, the Death Guard's current fleet is indeed no match for the space necromancers' ships, but on the ground, the Death Guard possesses formidable strength.

The data transmission from the Iron Warriors hasn't stopped yet.

A red dot located far behind the map of Mine Area 106 was marked by Peturabo.

Hades inquired in confusion.

Damn, it's Morag and his gang.

These Death Guards were placed in the rear by the Iron Warriors, where they stayed with Grei's forgemen.

Had it not been for Perturabo's reminder, Hades would have almost forgotten that there were still a few Death Guard recruits on board 106.

Even the previously quiet Mortalian coughed awkwardly.

Hades bet he had forgotten too.

This somewhat mitigated their anger.

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Chapter 157 The Exiles

106. No, deep within Wenmas, Nas knelt silently on the steps of the pyramid.

Gatheros was looking down at its ruler.

The Necromancer Lord's body is much larger than that of a regular Necromancer slave. Gatheros is composed of smooth, flawless living metal, and the patterns of the Necromancer of the cosmos adorn its body to highlight its noble status.

But Nash knew it was all over.

The long period of hibernation, coupled with the sudden interruption of his dormancy, left Nass with little hope.

But it remained kneeling there faithfully.

"Consul"

Gatherus's voice slowly echoed through the Black Stone Tomb, a dark and dry place devoid of life.

This is good news for Nass; perhaps the king is still sane.

Gatherus blinked slowly.

It was sitting in the audience seats of the military training ground, with slaves pouring it wine. Gatheros looked at its brother Orthyx, who was still too cowardly and valued life too much, no matter what kind of life it was.

This makes its younger brother seem rude and lacking in manners.

Those who fear death need only die; their short lives can only embrace death.

Gatheros needs to teach its brother a lesson.

It looked at the warriors training in the military training grounds, these elites who would form the powerful army of the Deathbringers.

"stop."