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

A familiar, lingering feeling of unconsciousness slowly rose up and caught up with Koz.

Sevita sighed wearily.

“I’m sorry, Father,”

The crow prince said,

“This is the remaining medicine that the pharmacist extracted from you that day. I have kept it all this time, just in case.”

Severus coldly took a step back, gesturing to the bats beside him to support the Primarch's slowly collapsing body.

"You have your reasons, and I have mine,"

Sevita said,

"But from beginning to end, I have always hoped to make you better, to make the Midnight Lord better."

The cold, stinging raindrops fell on Sevita's face. His eyes were completely black. The Prince of Crows looked up and watched the once magnificent structures turn to dust.

As the starlight extinguished, countless demonic armies surged forth from every corner of Nostramore. The millennia of chaos and madness that had plagued this land finally resonated at this moment, and monsters emerged from every shadow.

Having completed the Atonement Expedition, the Midnight Lords, who had not conscripted soldiers for a long time, were simply unable to hold Nostramaur.

Because of Severta's purge, those discontented individuals lurking in the shadows in Nostrama also launched a self-destructive attack against him.

The defending troops retreated again and again.

They first retreated from the newly built metallurgical plant in the suburbs, then moved to a food factory built on the orders of Sevita.

The last remnants of an opposing family, uprooted by Severta, shouted the devil's slogan and jumped into the high-temperature furnace of the food factory. The scalding concentrated syrup exploded, bringing a series of explosions and chaos.

Then they withdrew to the reserve school that Sevita had established.

They held out there for a considerable time, with the youngsters who hadn't yet become Night Lords providing them with immense assistance. However, in the end, when less than five percent of the school's population remained, Sevita chose to retreat again—the Night Lords had to leave behind at least a portion of their youth.

It was at this moment that the mad Conrad Coates disappeared into the city streets.

Then came the plaza with the Coz sculpture, and finally the hospital—they hastily boarded the Midnight Lord's warship, even though danger lurked on its surface.

After all personnel had been evacuated to the Nightfall and it was determined that Nostramamo was completely worthless and should be burned, Sevita began searching for Conrad Coz.

Finally, he found it.

Inside the Nightfall's private cabin, Sevita remained silent, holding a control panel in one hand and pressing down on the arm of the unconscious Koz with the other—the Primarch was already chained up.

Sevita may have gone mad as well.

Sevita pressed [OK].

He knew that at that moment, the whirlwind torpedo gun barrels on the Nightfall were emitting a scorching light.

The Primarch's room had no windows, and Sevita silently counted down the seconds in her mind—

boom.

Sevita thought to himself, imagining the crust of Nostramo collapsing under a blinding golden light, turning into huge, useless ruins.

Sevita felt he should cry, but his overworked eyes were unusually dry, and his numb heart seemed unable to muster any other emotions.

The Midnight Lords can no longer withstand any more attacks, but in this hellish place, they must have power to survive.

Sevita thought wearily, listening to Koz's steady breathing beside him. Sevita wished Koz would jump up, yell at him as a traitor, and shoot him dead so Sevita could fucking get some sleep.

Unfortunately, nothing happened.

It couldn't be Leon Johnson, Servita thought, since the First Legion was there to monitor them.

Horus didn't even consider that Severus couldn't imagine Horus's reaction after learning that half the empire had fallen into hell.

In some ways, the burning of half the empire now signifies a grave dereliction of duty by the Warmaster himself.

Horus, that hypocritical fellow, is probably insane by now. Sevita gave a dry, forced laugh.

Fugen… Sevita thought that perhaps they could seek refuge with the Phoenix. Fugen had been Coz's teacher, and the two Primarchs had a good relationship before the argument with Dorn.

But Sevita wasn't sure what Phoenix was like right now. In Sevita's view, in this situation, Fugen would likely react similarly to Horus.

Finally... Severta circled a circle on the command board: Saint Gilles, the Midnight Lord, and the Holy Blood Angel didn't have much interaction.

The perfect archangel, Severus wondered, would he take them in?

Koz, who was next to him, let out a groan.

Great!

Chapter 431 Inviting the First Victim

There are many ways to destroy a world: natural disasters, economic collapse, dynastic changes, war, plague—

Some disasters always begin to seep in from a small individual.

such as……

----------

It's an ordinary day.

As usual, Boris walked on his patrol route. He was a soldier of the 20th Ultramarines Chapter. He graduated from the Ultramarines Third Academy 53 years ago, ranking 34th, and successfully became an Ultramarines.

Holding his explosive pistol, Boris received orders that he and his fellow warriors would be responsible for patrolling the area where the World Eater Legion was stationed.

Boris welcomed his brothers in white helmets and blue armor to Macragge, having heard that the World Eaters valued brotherhood and honor, qualities Boris admired.

Boris paced solemnly, his helmeted boots clanging on the steel floor.

In the distance, some World Eaters stopped and bowed to Boris, who returned the bow.

One hour, thirty-four minutes, and six seconds later, Polis successfully completed a patrol. He returned to his rest room, where he could rest for five minutes before patrolling the next area.

But when he entered that room, Polis realized that something in his life had changed forever.

The room was simple and clean, with a few chairs on display, and the U-Flag of the Ultramarines and the flag of the Double-Headed Eagle hanging from the wall.

In the middle of the room stood a trembling old man.

"Feel sorry,"

The old man stammered, "I wanted to visit my son, a porter in this area, but I'm lost. Sir, could you please give me directions?"

This was supposed to be a very ordinary, temporary mission to help the citizens of Makula.

But as Boris looked at the old man, he instinctively took a deep breath, remembering his true mission.

He is Alpha, and so is that old man.

When he remembered who he really was, it meant he was about to embark on a mission.

...Angron.

If they are to save Saint Gilles, then Anglon is destined to be sacrificed.

This is fate; the scales are always just.

Boris realized that this was why he was standing here, and why he was an Ultramariner.

"Okay, citizen, please follow me this way."

As he spoke, Polis opened the door for the old man, and at the same time, the dutiful Ultramariner informed his superiors of the news.

Polis knew that this move would send other signals.

And they have already begun.

--------

Endurance

The master foundry Pasteur silently opened the heavily guarded door, and dim lights shone on the fearless machine.

Company Commander Ante cautiously emerged from behind Pasteur. Upon seeing Ante enter the room, Pasteur immediately closed the door and locked it from the inside.

"You need to think this through,"

Pasteur said sullenly,

“Master foundry workers have the right to conduct regular inspections of the Fearless, but bringing unauthorized personnel is a violation of regulations.”

Antaeus swallowed hard, staring at the Dreadnought, which was being personally modified by the commander and was gleaming with a cold light.

Antaeus spoke in a hoarse voice, in Barbalus.

"Pasteur, Io, and Lena are dead."

"I know."

Pasteur answered calmly, and as usual walked to the command platform next to the Fearless and activated the recovery system.

Antai smiled.

“It’s hard to imagine that Lena, who passed the recruit training with us, was a traitor—the commander even praised a few of us,”

Pasteur looked up from the control panel.

“I’m not interested in these things, Antaeus.”

"If you're really not interested, you won't help me."

Antaeus forced his gaze to the fearless, pitch-black goggles.

"So many years have passed. I've become the company commander of the Fifth Company, and you've become the strongest forging master in the foundry department... Io should have been the next chief pharmacist, while Lena—"

"He became a traitor."

Pasteur nodded. "Forty seconds left."

The engine roared, the sound of the injection of medicine rang out, and the Fearless began to tremble.

Ante closed his eyes.

“Pasteur, you are lucky, you didn’t experience any of that… I stood there for those days, watching the people I used to know being stripped of their true colors, covered in blood.”

“If you are unhappy about this,” Pasteur said, “I can always send you to find those people you know, Antaeus.”

“No,” Antaeus said, “I just want to know how all this happened, and I believe I can find the answer here.”

Antai was silent for a moment.

"He is the first traitor in the Death Guard's paper records."

"Karas Typhon."

Karas awoke with a near-death, parched sensation, opening his eyes groggily.

He expected to see a sorrowful Mortarian, or Hades finally preparing to kill him.

There was nothing there; instead, he saw two immature little brats.

"What the hell is going on—"

"Bang!!! Boom!!!!"

A dull, deafening explosion suddenly rang out, causing the bulkhead of the Earth-Shaking Perseverance to tremble.

The warning red light flashed, and he saw the little brat turn his head and listen carefully to the alarm on the communication channel for a while—

Antaeus shouted suddenly, gesturing for Pasteur to open the door immediately.

"A spaceport has exploded!"

"One tile away from Death Guard—that's where the World Eater is located!"

The master foundry opened the door, and Antaeus, who had been urgently summoned, immediately ran out, leaving Pasteur standing by the door.

Pasteur slowly turned around and stared at the silent Carlas Typhon.

"I'm sorry, sir, things happened suddenly. Perhaps I can let you go back to sleep."

Karas calmly considered the pile of potential problems he might face, and the Mortarian he might encounter later, and chose to fall asleep again.

"it is good."

Pasteur stepped forward, preparing to re-close the Dauntless barrier. Staring at Pasteur, Karas suddenly asked a question.

"You little brat, who are you?"

“Master Founder Pasteur, sir,”