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

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An elderly couple came over and stood before a cross. The mother wept, and the father smiled. They did not regret that their child had sacrificed himself for the greater good.

Even as they stand here right now, before their son's tombstone, their hearts are overwhelmed with grief.

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A still-naive boy stood beside another cross, holding a crude scythe issued by the Death Guard, and swore a vow in a low voice.

He vowed revenge for his brother and was about to join the Deathguard's official operations department.

A spark of revenge burned in the boy's dim eyes.

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A tall soldier stood silently before a cross.

Speechless.

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A weary woman held her two children tightly, crying with restraint.

A family still needs support; she cannot afford to collapse.

Your father fought for a future free from oppression for you.

Children, remember this, remember all of this.

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A young girl burst into tears, cursing the alien and her lover who was eager to go to the front lines.

Why did you abandon me?!

"We agreed to go together! I was supposed to get my order to go to the front lines in three days, why did you run away first?!"

She screamed, desperately covering her head with her hands, and knelt down, her disheveled hair standing on end between her fingers.

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There are also several graves where no living people are found.

The person lying here is the last one in a family.

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The dull sound of footsteps rang out, clearly audible even on the soft black soil.

Please accept my condolences.

The Primarch's towering figure came into view.

Mortarian wore a grey half-length cloak, beneath which was a simple, unadorned combat suit, entirely in plain color.

He was followed by Carrastiphon and two other Death Guard guards.

Whenever a Deathguard is killed, Mortarion always makes time to comfort the family.

If he was too busy to take the task himself, he would have his personal guards do it.

The people in the cemetery were all drawn to this tall and solemn Primarch, whose aura added a touch of solemnity to the otherwise somber scene.

The Primarch's inherent charm was indescribable; the people on the tomb spontaneously came to Mortarion's side, waiting with heavy hearts for his solace.

They need to be told that all of this makes sense.

It was all worth it.

"The soldiers bravely completed their mission."

"Even when faced with the cunning ambush of the aliens, they remained calm and accomplished their mission to the best of their ability."

"For this, I offer my deepest condolences and respect to the soldiers who lie here."

Mortarian closed his eyes, facing the cluster of tombstones standing on this vast land, placed one hand on his chest, and silently mourned.

The three guards behind him also closed their eyes and saluted.

The bereaved families suppressed their overflowing grief and began to mourn.

A sad and bewildered child, a grief-stricken and hysterical girl, a desperate yet resilient woman, an angry and strong boy, an indifferent yet dutiful soldier, and a heartbroken yet self-aware couple.

Barbarosians, be silent.

As a tiny part of this vast and boundless universe, as a speck in this grand and romantic story,

As insignificant as an ant, as lowly as dirt.

You bow your heads, weary from your daily toil, yet you forge ahead with unwavering resolve.

No sacrifice is too small to be taken lightly, and no effort is too insignificant to be despised.

After all, the fighting spirit of resistance burns in your humble yet unyielding hearts!

The living remain silent, paying the highest respect to the fearless dead.

The silence ended, and Mortarian knelt down to speak carefully with the families of the deceased.

He comforted the crying child, encouraged the warrior about to depart, and made promises to the haggard woman.

The hope was small, yet like tiny ripples, it began to spread outwards from Mortarion, layer by layer.

Sadness, yet still hope.

Because they know that it all has meaning and is worthwhile.

Mortarian promised them the future they longed for.

After hope comes fighting spirit.

In order not to let down the deceased, and in order to look forward to the tomorrow we all hope for.

Hades stood there, stunned.

The image of Herrera struggling before her death still echoed in his mind.

There was no resentment as one might have imagined, only the tenacity of a soldier determined to complete the mission.

Hades was aware of Herrera's feelings for him.

He knew perfectly well.

However, the girl's gratitude to her savior did not evolve into romantic feelings; instead, it became the driving force that supported her in her fight.

Thank you, I'll take one last look at you.

"Keep going! I believe Hades can lead everyone to liberate this land."

The warriors of Barbaros were so confident in the bright future.

Herrera is just an inconspicuous microcosm among the thousands of them.

Despite her own personal feelings, she was still fearless in sacrificing herself for the liberation of this land.

Hades felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

The aliens must be destroyed, and oppression must be overthrown.

With the strategic map delivered, Deathguard's full-scale preparations are about to begin.

The final battle against the alien lord Nacre is imminent.

time is limited.

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Herrera's last words echoed in my ears.

Herrera.

But this world is forever so cold and ruthless.

The deceased are gone, but the living carry on their wishes for the future and continue to struggle through life.

Hatred, anger, and a desire to change the future were mixed together.

Time is running out.

Hades knew he needed to make his final preparations.

I've revised this to the extreme, but my writing skills still aren't up to par. I apologize for that. (;Д｀)

Actually, there were originally 9 words more about the interactions between Herrera and Hades, but at the suggestion of readers, I urgently revised the original manuscript, deleting 5 words and completely changing the outline of this part.

It was only after readers pointed it out that I realized this was a major flaw (;Д｀)

I got up in the middle of the night to revise the text as quickly as possible (_)

The last 10,000+ words of the manuscript are all ruined (;Д｀)

We also welcome your feedback.

Happy reading!

Chapter 30 Preparation before the war

Barbaros, the northern mountains, an old stronghold.

Two Barbarossa months later.

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Inside the blacksmith's shop, the furnace was burning brightly, with bright yellow and crimson sparks flying everywhere, and tiny sparks bursting from the furnace, illuminating the room.

Several muscular men were intently wielding forging hammers, sparks flying and piercing the air of the blacksmith's shop.

Beside the forging platform, the others were nervously assembling a tall suit of armor, the fine steel that made up the armor gleaming under the gaze of the raging fire.

Next to this tall, unfinished armor were several smaller, but already completed, armors of the same design.

Hades stood not far away, holding a blueprint, occasionally looking up to check the assembly of the figures.

The towering armor under construction was clearly not of normal size; standing over 4 meters tall, it appeared even more majestic and imposing against the backdrop of the craftsmen's height.

This is a fully enclosed suit of armor that Hades modified based on blueprints he stole from the alien lords in the south, along with technology brought by other surrendered human territories.

This armor consists of three layers. The first layer is the thickest, made of a refined, corrosion-resistant alloy, with metal closures at the joints, where the respiratory and circulatory systems are also housed.

The second layer is a protective layer made of alien lord leather provided by Hades. The dense stitches and numerous tanning marks on it prove the maker's immense patience, and it is also specially thickened at the joints.

The third layer is a thick cotton layer that has been repeatedly soaked in herbs. If the first two layers do not play their due role, this layer will filter out the poisonous gas at the last line of defense, providing the wearer with the final defensive barrier.

Of course, the herbal effects available in the third layer also include hemostasis and stimulation.

The exterior of the armor features a breathing backpack connected to the respiratory circulation system. It utilizes the most effective filter material currently available, along with a system that physically adsorbs toxic gas particles.

Hades meticulously and seriously inspected every step of the assembly process. If anyone's assembly did not meet his expectations, Hades would immediately order them to start over.

There was no other way; Hades was still unable to access the machinery. He could only compress the dark domain to its minimum and then stand aside, directing the actions of others.

Furthermore, due to the Dark Domain, the closed-type armor made for Hades did not have an electronically driven breathing system; he could only use the most basic filtration and inhale the air himself.

As for the other armors of the Royal Guard, there was no second layer; Hades did not bring enough alien lord leather, so he was only allowed to sew two pieces.

Hades recalled the obvious startled reaction of the craftsmen around him when he took the leather out of his bag.

Indeed, not everyone can accept Hades's proposal.

Hades even went to briefly persuade Mortarian.

Although Mortarion is a Primarch who utterly despises aliens, there are no perfect idealists on Barbarossa; only absolute pragmatists can survive.

Therefore, after realizing the importance of the second layer of armor, Mortarion tacitly approved of Hades' actions.

Once the last piece of armor specially made for Mortalian is completed, all seven pieces of armor will be uniformly sprayed with anti-corrosion paint and then electroplated with another layer of metal.

Finally, a simple double-scythe decoration is attached to the shoulders of the armor, thus completing these specially made, fully enclosed suits of armor.

Besides the blacksmith shop overseen by Hades, the other blacksmith shops in the old stronghold were also bustling with activity, producing countless guns and cannons to make up for the losses at the front.

Barbalus, in the northern mountains, the territory of the alien lord Nacre, the plains below the mountains.

just now.

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