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

Unless this planet fits the labels of "psychic," "oppressor," or "alien."

Since this planet is simply a human civilization and does not constitute any of the three elements mentioned above, Mortarian remained an observer.

He listened with great interest to Conrad Coz and Horus's debate, but his heart began to tip involuntarily toward Conrad Coz.

No more.

I wrote 6 words today!

3/14 missing update

Chapter 289 Mortalian and Koz could have been friends

Death Guard, no, Midnight Lord, no, Death Guard and Midnight Lord? No, no, no.

Horus, who had just had an argument with Koz, was exhausted. His younger brother remained absolutely pessimistic about the Great Crusade and did not believe in the legitimacy of any of its existence.

Horus did not believe he could persuade Coz, something even Fugan had failed to do.

So he chose a more brutal approach because his brother sometimes only understood and accepted power.

During their conversation, Mortarion became an interested observer, while the Lord of Death distanced himself from the situation, an attitude that Horus found somewhat displeasing.

He recalled Mortarian at the banquet, and then he remembered Mortarian's first encounter with the Moon Wolf.

But the value of the Death Guards remains undeniable; they are a sizable legion adept at frontal assaults.

Horus might try to befriend the other members of the Deathguard command, establish his authority among them, and build a good relationship with the Moon Wolves—rather than with a somewhat eccentric brother.

As for Conrad Coz, Horus understands that the Night Lords are far more complex internally than the Death Guard, whose management system is more flat, and they do not seem to have formed a strong and effective management team to date.

But no matter how many thoughts Horus had in his mind, the conversation ended abruptly, with neither side convincing the other, and Horus firmly decided on his plan.

After all, Conrad Coz's seniority was insufficient, which was a practical issue. When the Primarchs gathered, those who returned earlier and whose legions had achieved more glorious victories were more likely to gain leadership.

This is an unspoken rule among brothers, and it generally works well for Horus.

Shepherd God rubbed his brow; he looked somewhat tired, but the two people in the room who probably realized this remained silent.

"Please return first. We still need a more careful plan regarding this civilization."

Horus had given them the order to leave. Normally, he would personally escort them out, but he did not do so today.

This remark clearly relieved all three of them. Koz quickly got up with a sigh of relief, while Motalian still acted like a slow-moving dead man.

But considering Mortarion's final farewell to Horus, Horus decided to forgive them all in his heart.

So Mortarion and Koz left with the Shadowmoon Wolf's servants, leaving Horus in a magnificent little house.

They decided to go find the diplomatic warriors they had brought with them first, and then leave. Due to the design of the Vengeful Spirit, another large reception room was at the end of the corridor.

The servant moved forward in the corridor without saying a word, with the two Primarchs following silently behind it. Koz walked close to the wall, as if he would disappear at any moment, while Mortarion walked confidently in the middle of the corridor.

The hands of the clock on the wall shifted slightly.

This was far too long for a Primarch, and unsurprisingly, Mortarion won first place in the mini-game of "whoever speaks first loses".

Koz's soft, hoarse voice rang out; the Night King's High Gothic language still carried a noticeable accent. In Mortalian, Conrad Koz saw something possible, which was why he spoke, contrary to his usual behavior.

At least, Mortarion behaved differently from Fugen, Dorn, Horus, Guilliman, and Magnus.

My brother, what judgment do you think this human civilization deserves?

This is a greeting.

Mortarion continued his advance. If Horus and Koz were disregarded, the Lord of Death would choose to use his air forces to control the airspace near the capital city and then launch a direct attack.

While the human civilization here is powerful, in the complex urban environment, the Space Marines, with their superior mobility and individual combat capabilities, are clearly more effective, making it impossible for the enemy's heavily armored forces to fully deploy.

However, this is contingent on the Death Guard securing air superiority.

They could launch a surprise attack, like Galaspa, to seize control of the main cities on the other side before the enemy's main forces could react, and then use the officials there to force the enemy to surrender.

Of course, how these cities will be burned during the war (especially with the help of Death Guard's unique weapons), and whether this will harm civilians, remains to be seen.

Horus's plan was not entirely unfeasible, but Mortarian still felt it was less likely. He needed to completely crush the other side, rather than gently telling them that the Empire had arrived.

However, beneath the hood, Mortarian's amber eyes glanced silently at Koz. During his earlier argument with Horus, he had fully grasped his brother's fighting style.

To be honest, the Lord of Death looks down on this kind of sneak attack tactic. They should make the enemy fully realize the power of the Legion, that unstoppable power that can simultaneously shatter the enemy's main force—instead of this seemingly clever tactic.

But it is indeed feasible, just like Horus's plan.

For Mortarian, this was an irrelevant issue, since the decision was not in his hands, and he naturally lost interest in further evaluating these tactics.

It would be better to put him in the pharmacy or send him directly to the battlefield.

Mortarian rolled his eyes inwardly; he still hoped to encounter a few battles where he could lead them.

Although that was what he thought, Motalian gave a different answer because, apart from things he couldn't control like tactics, he realized that Koz's attitude towards things might have given him a lot in common.

Mortarian spoke, but his words were unclear.

They need to be utterly crushed, not given time to recover.

Koz's laughter rang out again; he seemed to be in a good mood, and his argument with Horus had not left much of a trace.

Motalian had no idea how Koz managed to do that.

Could you tell me about the virus you just mentioned?

This is a very obvious gesture of goodwill, opening up a possibility between the two of them.

So far, so good. Mortalian maintained the necessary vigilance and began to count the lovely and charming little creatures in his apothecary.

Koz listened with interest, occasionally offering his new ideas on how to use the little guys, and Mortalian realized that his brother had far more creative ideas than most people when it came to torture and abuse.

The Lord of Death had no reaction to this. He believed that death was the most terrifying punishment, and there was no need to skin someone alive before they died. These things were too meticulous and inefficient.

Mortalian found it hard to imagine the Death Guard skinning someone; it felt jarring.

But given Coz's enthusiasm for his potions, Mortalian decided to suppress his emotions.

"If you need them," Mortalian said, "I have three different potions here, each with its own interpretation of fear. I think you'll like them."

They amplify a person's perception of fear, while simultaneously weakening the limbs and increasing the heart rate. They are ineffective against all Death Guardians, including the hounds of the underworld.

Some gadgets. Anyway, the Death Guards won't release these things on the battlefield. They have potions that can melt bones and make flesh boil, so these things are unnecessary.

Koz's voice became noticeably more cheerful, confirming his earlier suspicions that he had a brother who could tolerate, or even understand, his actions.

Although Mortalian is not as perfect or as elegant as Fugen.

Thank you, my brother, fear is a good remedy; it cures the plague of chaos.

"Koz murmured."

Suddenly, Mortalian heard a soft click beside him. He blinked in confusion and glanced at Koz out of the corner of his eye.

Koz is still the same, only more disheveled?

No, no, no, every time Koz tries to step out, those nightmares catch up with him; they are the future, they are the established facts—

Koz looked sadly at Mortarion, while the Plague Lord looked at him with disdain. Mortarion before him blurred, his enormous, soft, and wet moth wings trembling behind him.

He was enveloped in a thick, damp, viscous mist, and Mortarian became swollen and more voluptuous.

That was Mortarion's end; he betrayed, he fell, he plummeted into the abyss, never to return.

Koz's breathing began to quicken.

The future is destined to be dark; humanity will spend millennia in chaotic infighting. Their father was a liar who made lies that deceived an entire civilization.

Some unsettling black specks surrounded Mortalian, and a tinnitus hissed around him, but Coz ignored them; compared to the maddening screams, these black specks were nothing more than a fleeting glimpse in a dream.

Motarian hesitated whether to ask Koz if he was alright, but he knew that would be an insult, at least to him.

He wasn't sure if Coz thought the same way.

But Koz struggled to speak, his pale face contorted in agony.

【Motalian, do you want to know about your future?】

Mortarian instantly raised his scythe, the heavy scythe carefully positioned between the two, creating a chasm.

What are you saying, Conrad?

Koz was clearly startled by Mortalian's outburst. He shook his head in pain, scratching his disheveled hair anxiously, blood seeping from between his fingers.

The unsettling black spots grew denser, like an old television slowly crumbling, accompanied by a piercing, tinnitus that made his ears ring.

Do you believe in the Great Expedition?

Koz spoke painfully.

"I don't believe it." Mortarian spoke cautiously. "The future is bleak and painful, but... what happened to you, my brother?"

Mortalian carefully selected from the various words, and the Lord of Death realized that Koz clearly knew something.

Did he see it too?

"My future? I've heard that some of us possess prophetic abilities. Is this your ability, Conrad?"

But when Mortalian acknowledged the painful future, Koz sighed deeply, a sigh that sounded like the howl of a wild beast, or a helpless admission.

"I'm sorry," Koz said softly, while the monster from Nostramore sighed loudly, spreading his enormous, sharp hands. "There's nothing we can change."

The eerie feeling was like lightning cleaving through the desolate night, striking Mortarian straight down.

Mortarion retracted his giant scythe, and the silence on the Vengeful Spirit floor made a soft sound. Mortarion looked at Conrad Coz, and Barbaros's hoarse voice was also tinged with his.

"No," Mortarian said very carefully, "at least I will never admit it."

But Koz didn't hear what Mortarian said. Tinnitus, a tremendous tinnitus, darkness—no, not the darkness of night, but a more brutal darkness that Koz couldn't quite describe.

Koz strained to open his eyes wide, now Mortalian's entire body was obscured by those black, noisy specks, clamoring and screaming about something.

The Lord of the Night was trying to find some possible trace among these black spots that wouldn't even appear in the deepest nightmares.

He saw it, he saw it.

No, no ...

Conrad Coz suddenly turned his head—

Safeta!

No, no, no, no, his fate did not end here!

Mortarian stood frozen in shock for a moment, and then Koz vanished in an instant—

A sense of unease gripped Mortarian's heart, and his blood began to boil.

Without hesitation, Mortarian immediately ran towards the large conference room at the end of the corridor.

The next moment, the familiar feeling of his soul suspended in mid-air caused everything to go black.

It's censored. Sorry for the late post; I'm having writer's block.

This is 3.6k words.

Chapter 290 Hades: WDNMD

Hades skillfully picked up a fruit from the fruit basket in front of him and chatted casually with Abaddon with a relaxed and comfortable expression.

To reiterate, the way Shadowmoon Wolf and Ultramarines entertain their guests is the best!

Besides the two people sitting on the sofa chatting idly, Abaddon was sitting next to Seghanus, who was reading a battle report, while on the other side, Sevita leaned against the wall, silently closing his eyes to rest.

Although everyone present could sense Sevita's vigilance, in reality, at their stage, constant vigilance was a necessity for survival.

Hades also kept his dark domain running at a low concentration, covering the entire room and part of the long corridor outside.

These people didn't have much psychic potential, except for Sevita, but Prince Raven had been suppressing his psychic abilities, so Hades wasn't sure if he was aware of Hades's difference.

"How do you think this battle will be fought, Hades?"

Abaddon spoke casually.

"This is just a hypothetical situation. If it were you, how would you play?"

Seghanus looked up from the battle report, glanced at Izekel, and then turned his gaze back to the pile of documents.

Hades paused as he was about to grab more food.