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

Page 124

“Each child who signs up will receive a week’s worth of food, and those who pass all the selections and become warriors of the Death Guard will have their families’ food supply taken care of by the Death Guard.”

Hades stood beside Mortarion. It must be said that, as the Primarch and as a Barbalusian, Mortarion had indeed taken the Barbalusian situation into full consideration.

A boy who is about to enter his prime is an indispensable source of labor for any family.

In the unique small-scale farming economy of Babaluste, the loss of a able-bodied man is an unbearable thing for a family.

This may lead some families to be unwilling to let their children sign up for the Death Guard, or the children themselves may be unwilling to give up the burden of taking on family responsibilities.

But now, Motalian has directly eliminated these families' worries.

“I know that some of you have come here for food.”

"This is not shameful."

Motalian delivered his verdict.

"In fact, Death Guard welcomes you, who continue to move forward despite the heavy burdens of life."

“You, and the relatives who sent you, represent the cruel reality of Barbarossa.”

"Before we can look up at the tyrant above us, we must first learn to struggle in the poisonous fog."

"The prerequisite for every Barbalusian to survive on this planet is that we dare to face the harsh reality."

"I sincerely hope that you can pass the next test."

"So,"

Mortarian turned to the side, making a welcoming gesture, and pointed to the high mountains behind him.

This is not the highest peak in Barbarus, but it is still high enough that a Space Marine who takes off his helmet will feel a suffocating pain at its summit.

The gas masks issued by the Death Guards were simply not enough to keep them at the required height.

"Let's climb."

"To cut off the enemy's head, one must be resilient enough."

"Back then, the Death Guard's most elite resistance fighters climbed this mountain and beheaded the alien lord."

"Now, it's your turn."

"The higher you climb, the more likely you are to be selected for the next round."

"Only the most resilient among you will survive."

"If you are not resilient enough, you will suffocate in the poison gas and be given death."

A slight commotion arose in the crowd. They had been told that there would be deaths when they first registered, but no one expected the first screening to be so brutal.

Death is too abstract, but every Barbarossa resident has experienced the feeling of suffocating in poison gas.

The Primarch narrowed his eyes in displeasure as he looked at the crowd. His previously peaceful demeanor was instantly replaced by a sinister one. At this moment, Mortarion once again assumed his most adept persona—

grim Reaper.

The queue fell silent instantly.

Hades remained unmoved as he watched Mortarian threaten the candidates.

Because he knew this guy was scaring children.

In reality, Barbarossa was already sparsely populated and could not withstand a conscription system with a high mortality rate.

Moreover, basically an entire generation of Barbalus boys of the right age are here. If we were to select based on survival rate, the Barbalus population would die out in this generation.

Although Mortarian really wanted to put his Seldar's ideas into practice, he wanted to use the name of selection to screen and clean up Barbarus's "inferiority genes".

But reality and Hades wouldn't allow him to do so.

↓

[We can use this screening process to eliminate a small number of weaker individuals.]

Mortarian looked at Hades.

[The later stages of Babaru's development required a large population.]

Hades sat opposite him, refusing to compromise.

↑

So, in fact, there were already pharmacists hiding on the only way up the mountain. If someone couldn't hold on, these pharmacists would appear when no one was around and save the life of the chosen one.

"Therefore, you can withdraw now, and the grain will not be taken back."

"In return, you will lose an opportunity to change your life."

Mortarian slowly uttered his next sentence.

He raised his hand and pulled his hood up again.

"But if you believe you are resilient enough,"

Mortarian put on his breathing mask, and a hoarse, hissing voice came from behind it.

"Then you may begin your climb."

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Chapter 139 Only Climbing

On the gloomy mountain road, thick toxic fumes enveloped them, and these damp droplets clung to their hair, clothes, and breathing tubes.

Ante raised his hand and numbly wiped his breathing tube again. The once resilient tube had become brittle and soft due to the corrosion of the toxic gas.

Barbarossa's experience told him that his gas mask was about to give out.

There may not be much room for him to retreat.

If we go any further, there will be nowhere left to retreat.

From the very beginning, the number of people going up the mountain was constantly decreasing.

They were not defeated by the poison gas; at lower altitudes, the gas masks were not so easily corroded.

But the breathing mask, which becomes increasingly fragile every moment, creaks and groans with every breath, pounding on everyone's heart.

Some wise people realized that the gas mask would eventually break down, so they returned early.

But most people didn't realize this, or perhaps they were taking a chance, or perhaps they genuinely wanted to become a Death Guardian, so the large crowd began to climb towards the top of the mountain.

But now, most people in the crowd realize that they have reached a turning point.

Death was watching them, silent and merciless.

Returning here will allow you to get back to the bottom of the mountain just before your gas mask breaks.

If they go any higher, their gas masks will inevitably break before they reach the summit, at which point they will face the dense toxic fumes at high altitude.

Antaeus managed to take a steady breath, and his respirator emitted a mournful whine.

However, the child in front of him suddenly stopped, and Antaeus almost crashed into him.

The child gave Antaeus a gloomy look, then began to tremble as he looked down.

They passed by sideways, almost bumping into each other.

This was like a call to action, and more and more people began to turn around.

Many of the children who were initially at the forefront, those who were clearly stronger than An Tai and who rushed ahead, also began to turn back.

Antai paused for a moment, then turned his head to look at the small dots descending the mountain.

Their dusty figures quickly disappeared into the dim, flowing poisonous gas.

The originally huge crowd was reduced by two-thirds, and the remaining children continued to climb, wobbling as they went.

The sense of security that had previously enveloped An Tai, and that of following the crowd, had vanished.

Antai also stopped, hesitating whether to continue upwards or return the way he came.

The food they received earlier was enough to feed their family for a week.

If he went any higher, he could really die.

A thin, slender boy passed by Antaeus from behind, interrupting Antaeus's thoughts.

Antai was surprised to see tear stains on the boy's face.

But the boy did not stop for a moment.

The boy glanced at him and smiled.

Antai paused.

"I want to move upwards," Ante thought.

"You must rise up," Antaeus told himself, "rise up, become the Death Guard, and then your younger siblings won't have to work as hard as your parents. They can do other things, as long as Antaeus becomes the Death Guard."

You must climb for your younger siblings.

But is that really what Antaeus thought?

Is he using his family's name to cover up his true desires and impulses?

Is he ashamed to admit that, in a hidden corner of his heart, he desires to become a Death Guard?

Even though Antaeus knew nothing about the Death Guard, the imposing figures of those giants were deeply imprinted in his mind.

They rekindled another spark in An Tai's heart.

That was a path completely different from his previous life, and Antaeus knew he despised his past life.

It would be unwise for him to go up now; he would likely die, and then the burden of life would fall on his younger siblings.

But he'd had enough, enough of all that gloom.

He wasn't actually that selfless; on the contrary, he was selfish.

He just wanted to make a living and climb up the ladder.

Even death was more appealing to him than the bleak future that lay ahead.

He didn't want to just exist anymore.

Ante wanted to make a choice for his life; he wanted to prove himself; he wanted to leave this place.

May I be resilient enough.

he thinks.

So he started climbing again.

A sneer rang in Hades' ears, followed by a hoarse voice, accompanied by static, coming from the communication channel.

“I knew this would happen; you didn’t need to hire pharmacists at all.”

Hades stared helplessly at the image transmitted through his helmet, where a vast crowd of people was descending the mountain.

He knew that Mortarian was definitely mocking him.

Hades sighed softly, making sure the sigh wasn't transmitted to Mortarian via the communication channel.

"But wouldn't this diminish the purpose of the screening process from the outset?"

The other end of the channel went silent.

Hades blinked and refocused his attention on the crowd going up the mountain.

Mortarian only told these people that the summit was the final destination.

But in fact, as long as they reach a sufficient height, they will be automatically deemed qualified.

Hades did not believe that anyone could actually reach the summit; he had spoken with the Legion's apothecary, who said it was physiologically impossible.

The concentration of poison gas at the mountaintop was enough to suffocate a Space Marine.

Mortarion, however, did not think so. As soon as the selection began, the Primarch excitedly climbed to the top of the mountain, waiting for his warriors.

Hades did not follow the Primarch to the mountaintop; instead, he went to the place where the Black Stone Obelisk was placed, just in case something went wrong.

He stared at the crowd going up the mountain; compared to the beginning, the crowd had thinned out considerably.

The sound came from the channel again.