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

Barbalus, Northern Mountains, territory of the alien lord Nacre, Top Mountain Road.

just now.

.

Upward, upward, upward.

The poisonous fog grew thicker and thicker, and with each step upwards, one could feel the poison gas tearing at their armor.

Visibly, the anti-corrosion layer on the armor peeled off instantly, revealing the gleaming metal layer underneath.

But as soon as the metal layer was exposed, rust spots began to spread and climb on it.

Some of the Death Guards had deep wounds on their armor from previous battles, and now the innermost layer of cotton cloth was clearly visible through the wounds. The black and yellow coloration on the cotton cloth made the once thick cotton cloth look like a thin sheet of paper, as if it would break at the slightest touch.

They are now close to the summit. Since the artillery bombardment, Mortarian and his group have not encountered many enemy attacks. Occasionally, a few high-level golems would try to ambush them using the terrain, but Mortarian would kill them instantly.

It seems that the alien lord Nacre, whose supplies were cut off and who was then surrounded and worn down, has reached a dead end.

.

But compared to the enemy, Barbalus's own poison gas seems to be a greater challenge for the group.

Haznil was the first to give up.

The poison gas seeped in through a large wound on his leg. It's hard to imagine that the skin on his leg is now even peeling off, revealing the corroded, white muscle.

His heavy breathing came from inside his armor, clearly suppressing pain and forbearance.

Mortarian spoke.

"Murnau, take Haznir down the mountain the way you came and meet up with Mozhar and the others."

Murnau looked up at Mortarian, and Hades sensed that he clearly wanted to say something, but Murnau's increasingly sluggish movements had already revealed his predicament.

"Yes."

Murnau helped Haznil, who was clearly unwilling but weakened by the poison gas, and the two turned around and limped down the mountain.

.

However, the concentration of poisonous gas increased further up.

Karastiphon felt short of breath. His breathing backpack was already at maximum power, and the buzzing sound reminded him that his breathing backpack might break down at any moment.

He picked up his gun and found that the connection between the handle and the barrel was even visibly broken.

The breathing hoses began to melt and fell out from between the layers of the armor.

The remaining Death Guards had also reached their limit.

Their movements grew increasingly slow, and their breathing became increasingly heavy and labored. Beneath their armor, their faces were probably already deathly pale, yet they were still struggling to hold on.

"Karastyphon, you take the remaining Deathguards and evacuate."

Mortarian's voice, tinged with restraint and suppressed emotion, rang out.

Even in the finest armor, and even as a Primarch, the poisonous gas here is not to be underestimated.

Calastiffon knew that they had reached their limit; any further would be an abyss from which there was no return.

But can Mortarion really kill the alien lord Nacre and successfully retreat?

"Motalian, are you still going to climb higher?"

"Correct."

Mortarian gritted his teeth; he had to kill his father with his own hands, and he had come this far.

His father was blatantly mocking him; in an area with high concentrations of poison gas, he hadn't even set up any defenses.

He was mocking Mortarian for not daring to climb any higher, mocking him for being unable to kill him.

Things have come to this point, the arrow is on the bowstring, and there's no turning back!

Today, Nacre, only one of us can survive!

Karastiphon felt something pass by him and move towards Mortalian higher up.

Karastiphon was suddenly stunned. Hades?!

"Hades, Hades, are you going to keep climbing up with Mortarion too?!"

"Correct."

Hades is also in bad shape. Even though both his and Mortarion's armor have a second layer of leather sewn by the alien lords, he can feel that this layer is slowly melting under the corrosive effects of the poisonous gas.

He doesn't have much time left.

Not to mention that Hades' armor lacked a respiratory and circulatory system, which greatly hindered his breathing.

But Hades can still hold on.

It's not time to collapse yet.

He can continue to rise.

.

As if he had heard something unbelievable, Carrastiphon shook his head, but he said nothing. He turned and led the remaining Death Guards down the mountain.

Before descending the mountain, he turned back and gave Hades and Mortarian a long look.

It was as if they wanted to remember their figures forever, or as if they were mourning the dying spirits in advance.

Mortarian's tall figure gradually disappeared into the mist, and the unsettling aura beside him also faded away.

The top of the mountain is right in front of us.

The two people, silently climbing, continued upwards.

"Can you?"

Mortarian's voice rang out again.

"Let's fight quickly."

Hades's wry smile drifted over.

Clearly, even with the interlayer of alien lord leather, this fully enclosed armor could not function properly for an extended period in the poisonous gas at the top layer.

Once the armor stops functioning, even a Primarch cannot remain conscious in such an environment solely due to superior physical abilities.

"Exactly what I thought."

Mortarian turned and glanced in Hades' direction. If Hades could help him weaken his adoptive father's psychic powers, Mortarian was certain he could cut off his adoptive father's head.

"And thank you."

Hades paused for a moment,

"It's okay, I know it's really not a good feeling to fight alone."

Hades once fought alone in the south.

In many times of crisis, having a comrade-in-arms can certainly make things much easier.

Hopefully, he can suppress the sorcerous psychic powers of the alien lord Nacre.

.

We've reached the summit.

This is a flat area about the size of a basketball court, as if an axe had shaved a piece off the mountaintop.

The tall, eerie figure stood there silently, surrounded by poisonous gas, a long, tattered cloak draped over its shoulders, moving without wind.

In fact, Motalian's adoptive father, Nacre, was actually quite human-like compared to those grotesque aliens.

This humanoid was taller and stronger than Mortarion, like a giant.

It wore a simple, battle-style outfit, on which countless fine threads were sewn together to depict exquisite sacrificial images and incantations.

Its dark gray-white skin was exposed directly to the poisonous gas, yet it showed no signs of corrosion, as if it shared the same origin as the poisonous gas.

His eyes, sunken deep in their sockets, were pale, and thick, yellow-red blood vessels covered his eyeballs.

An ominous and oppressive black-green psionic light flickered around it.

In its pale, enormous hand it held a giant scythe—"Annihilation," its alien technology giving it an eerie bronze-purple hue.

Nacre did not wait in his fortress at a lower elevation, but instead stood alone on the mountaintop.

The moment it saw Mortarion, it let out a contemptuous sneer.

"Here he comes finally, my cowardly son."

In a flash, Mortarian charged forward, scythe in hand.

Happy reading! ~(￣▽￣～)~

Chapter 33 Execution (Part 1)

Barbalus, the northern mountains, the territory of the alien lord Nacre, the mountain peak.

just now.

.

At the highest peak of Barbarossa, a poisonous fog silently shrouds, swirls, and lingers.

With a whooshing sound, the Primarch crossed the distance of half a basketball court in just a fraction of a second!

A silent, raging fury burned in Mortalian's eyes. Using the momentum of his rapid charge, he raised his battle scythe—

"clang!!!"

"throat!!!"

Mortarion's all-out attack was blocked by Nacre's Greatscythe of Annihilation. A burst of brilliant sparks erupted from the point where the two scythes met, scattering sparks that illuminated the fury in Mortarion's eyes.

Nacre held the scythe in both hands, using it to firmly block Mortarion's blade.

For a moment, the human and the alien were locked in a fierce standoff. Motari exerted all his strength, twisting his scythe and hacking downwards with all his might, even pounding deep pits into the solid rock beneath his feet.

Compared to Mortarion's furious rage, Nacre's effort to deflect the slash seemed more like a mockery of Mortarion's anger.

The tall, muscular alien, taking advantage of Mortalian's downward slash, crouched down to retract its scythe, instantly shattering the delicate balance of force that had just been established between them.

Mortarion immediately withdrew his scythe and hooked it forward again, but the alien lord Nacre had anticipated Mortarion's next move. After withdrawing his scythe, he immediately retreated and jumped away, holding the scythe in one hand and pointing the other hand with his five fingers spread, pointing at Mortarion opposite him.

A strange, dark green psionic energy surged violently between its fingers.

"My ridiculous son!"

The psionic energy surged instantly, and the massive psionic energy fluctuations even distorted the surrounding space!

But Mortarian, instead of showing the panic he had as a child, laughed in fury.

"It seems you really haven't cared about what your child has been doing down in the mountains all these years!"

Before Mortarian could finish speaking, Nacre suddenly felt the surrounding space become oppressive, its connection with the warp weaken, and the laws of the physical world began to squeeze it.

Before the spiritual energy in its hands had accumulated to a satisfactory level, it suddenly exploded.

Meanwhile, having anticipated this, Mortarion charged forward again, swinging his scythe straight for Nacre's head!

Nacre was startled by the sudden change, but it quickly recovered. Mortarion's scythe was already beside it. Seeing that it could not dodge the scythe, Nacre had no time to raise its scythe to defend itself, so it simply reached out and grabbed the scythe, taking the blow head-on.

Nacre's right hand was severed, blood splattering everywhere, but it successfully blocked Mortarion's fatal blow.

Seeing that he had the upper hand, Mortarian immediately pressed his advantage, wielding his scythe like rain, attacking Nacre at top speed, forcing it to parry repeatedly without any ability to fight back.

.

Wait! There's still one more person in this game!

Still an untouchable!

Nacre then realized that he had been tricked by Mortarion.

Mortarion's initial charge wasn't due to being provoked by its taunt, but rather to cover the presence of the second person!

That person must be a mortal, unable to directly intervene in their battle, which is why Mortarion created an opportunity for him to enter, catching Nacre off guard when he used his sorcery and psionic powers.

It was careless! It originally thought that no mortal could stand on the summit of this mountain.