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

“I’m heading back now,” Taracin said. “The rest of the collection… I think you can finish it yourselves?”

Hades turned his head, as if listening to a report from a subordinate on the radio, and then nodded.

“No problem,” Hades grinned. “You’ve been a great help, Tarasin—of course, I know what you want… See if you can get your Hierophant’s individual access code, or some other information, I can try too.”

Taracin nodded, recalling its dynasty's king, the old man who had hardly ever woken up—it had little recollection of him, only remembering that he was very obedient to the Silent King's commands.

"As for the Silent King..."

Hades said, blinking, his dark pupils revealing a cryptic expression, "Tarasin, it's possible that the master control protocol has already destroyed itself."

Hades froze as he saw Tarachin preparing to leave; the space necromancer turned back in surprise.

"Wh-what?!?!"

A startling light flashed in Tarasim's green eyes, but before Hades could speak again, Tarasim understood everything. Why Orikan could appear so indifferent, why the Silent King hadn't led the Hanoi army for ten thousand years, why the Storm King had openly expressed his disgust for the Silent King—countless clues surfaced, and Tarasim realized this absurd reality—that—that—that—

That means the Silent King really gave up the overall control agreement.

Taracin suddenly realized that when he argued with Orikan, Orikan had subtly hinted at it, but due to the programming of the necromantic space creature, it was not convenient for the astrologer to tell it this.

Tarasin remained frozen.

Has the King of Silence lost his mind too?!

Tarasin's body began to tremble, one beat at a time.

"Hahaha—hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!"

The space necromancer burst into laughter, and Tarachin laughed so hard he almost fell over. He hadn't laughed so happily in a long time—it was just laughter, but it wasn't entirely because he was happy.

This idiot who destroyed the master control agreement himself led the Fear of Death for ten thousand years?!

Or does the Silent King truly believe he has the ability and charisma to command all the undead in space?!

Tarasim laughed so hard that, if it were the body of the dead, he suspected he was laughing until tears streamed down his face, until his muscles were torn apart.

Amidst his maniacal laughter, Taracin even felt he subtly understood the madman's thought process of the Silent King—did he want to restore "freedom" to his people after they had completely lost their free will?!

Crazy! A fucking madman! Hahahaha!

Talazin had almost never been so furious. What kind of king was leading the Deathbringers, leading the space necromancers? It had never cursed another Deathbringer so viciously (except for Orikan).

The Silent King utterly destroyed the free will of the Death-Fearers, and then “returned” the freedom they had previously longed for—when the undead in space needed a leader to guide them to take care of themselves, the Silent King Szalak chose to give it up himself!

Only Tarachin knew how many of the Hierophants who still retained "self-awareness" had become insane under the ravages of time; some had gone completely mad, while others believed they were still fighting the war in Heaven.

But then the Silent King ran away! Not only did it run away, it also destroyed the master control protocol, the only one that could directly command and alter the logic code of the space necromancers!

Tarasin felt the knuckles of his hand gripping the Staff of Annihilation clicking, and he felt the utter absurdity and sorrow of the Endless One realizing how pathetic his race was.

How absurd is the Silent King!

At this moment, Tarasin felt immense sorrow for not choosing to abandon King Silent Szalak and support his rival, the Fatah, but instead obeying the age-old hierarchical system and continuing to serve Szalak.

It fell silent.

Tarasin, exhausted, glanced deeply at Hades, who stood before it, somewhat shocked.

"Is that so?" It realized that the alien race had witnessed this absurd farce, but it didn't matter. Its database contained enough dirt on Hades to shut him up and make him respect it.

Tarasin casually remarked, "That way we won't have to waste our energy trying to break the Silent King's control over me."

The Endless One paused.

"pretty good."

"I'm leaving now—after that, once everything is packed up, send someone to contact me, and I'll come find you."

Tarasin said that Hades quickly agreed, and he watched as Tarasin took a step ahead as if he were running away.

The footsteps of the Endless Ones disappeared behind the door.

Hades blinked, looking at the empty chair opposite him. To be honest, Hades thought they could discuss the details of the cooperation further, but it seemed that Tarasin needed to rest for a while.

Tarahin may not be adapting very well to cooperating with other ethnic groups yet.

After it severed the planet's automaton soul, Hades could sense that Tarasim was growing weary.

Given that it is a space necromancer, Hades does not consider this to be physical fatigue.

He might understand Tarahim; let Tarahim take his time.

Hades stared blankly in the direction Tarachin had left, but at the same time, Hades realized that this cooperation with Tarachin was absolutely secure, so he gave it a push—

Perhaps instead of letting Tarachin cooperate with Hades out of fear and apprehension (hoping to break free from the master control agreement), it would be better to try to provoke Tarachin into launching a war.

After all, Tarahim had already planned to "rebel".

Hades took a deep breath and sighed. Every family has its own troubles, and this was true for the Empire, and perhaps it was also true for the Necromancers of the Space.

He heard rustling sounds behind him, and Mortarian spoke calmly.

I understand it.

Hades smiled and turned his head.

"...This is...this is not like the old you, Old Mo."

Hades lowered his eyes, poured himself a glass, and began to cooperate with the alien race—even empathize with them. Compared to his original self, Mortarian had become "ordinary," or rather, mediocre, having compromised quite a bit.

Hades, on the other hand, took a sip of his drink and became even more extreme.

The Primarch shook his head, then nodded.

[Within the system of those who fear death—it can utter the word "rebellion"... I admire that about it.]

Mortarian said, "Among the fearful, only those of equal rank can declare war... A superior against a subordinate... This is far more unacceptable in their culture than in humans; it is not praised, but only met with unanimous condemnation."

Hades slowly sipped his drink, turning the sofa around. It seemed the Primarch possessed considerable knowledge of the Necromancers of space—and the recent conversation between Mortarion and Talazin had made Hades realize that Mortarion might know more than he had imagined.

"You can say that to its face next time,"

Hades joked, "I think Tarasin would gladly accept your compliment."

Mortarian dead fish eyes,

Those are alien races, the spirits of the dead.

The Primarch cleanly ended the topic; Mortarion was still Mortarion, at least he couldn't bring himself to speak kindly to Talathin face to face.

“Then I’ll praise him for you next time,” Hades raised his glass. “We’ll be in trouble with Tarasin from now on… he’s a real bodhisattva.”

The Primarch shrugged, casually raised his glass, and drank.

On this point, Mortarian couldn't refute it, even though he was very unhappy about it.

The room was quiet for a moment.

What are your plans next?

Hades suddenly asked,

“We don’t need to worry about the final stages of this planet’s development. Tarasin will come. All we need to do is leave the Mountain-Entwining Ship and the accompanying excavation team behind. It will take about a month—then we’ll talk to Tarasin about how to divide the spoils.”

“I would have spent more time here—but it seems I don’t need to now. I’m going to visit a large forging world in the nearby Belkin Omega sector to discuss the mass production of bullet bows and the construction of a shipyard. It will probably take about half a month—after that I’ll be free.”

“I think…” Hades looked at Mortarian, “you don’t look like you’re just going to lie in the coffin and rest. What are your plans?”

Original body side head,

[Return to Barbaros.]

The Primarch said, "Wanderers, let's return to Barbaros."

Hades looked at Mortarian.

"It's not just about reminiscing about the past, is it?"

The Primarch thought of the dragon beneath the satellite forged by the Mint.

But he shook his head, and wrinkles appeared around Mortarian's eyes.

"I'm just going back for a visit," he said somewhat casually. "I remember you always telling me not to be so boring... Anyway, Makado won't be back in Terra anytime soon."

And the Lord of Humanity... probably has his own ulterior motives.

..............................

【Comoros】

Kitten—kitten—where are you?

The forefoot of his boot was stained with blood, the black leather gleaming with a luxurious sheen. Koz, his face flushed with excitement, half-squatted in the pool of blood, while the Primarch called out in a soft, high-pitched voice...

Countless cyborg corpses, much larger than those of ordinary Space Marines, lay here, their mutations far lessened than when Koz first saw them.

[Kitten—kitten—I'm a lost kitten in this sinful city, where are you?]

A cold glint suddenly appeared in the corner!

clang! ! ! !

A burst of fire erupted! Koz grinned, revealing an extremely twisted smile, and the knuckle decorations on his gloves instantly grew into lightning claws.

Between the gaps in the claws, the sharp edge of the lion sword was revealed, the metal trembling and emitting a piercing screech.

The bearded old man under the hood raised his chin and calmly uttered a high-gothic word.

【sad.】

The next moment! The Lion Sword in his hand changed its power! Leon released one hand from the sword and struck Koz's chin!

The Lord of Midnight's pupils trembled violently, and Koz immediately tilted his head back to dodge, but in doing so, he released the claws that were holding the lion. Leon decisively pushed off the ground and charged toward Koz's back!

[Trying to run away again?!]

Conrad's roar erupted behind the lion, laced with countless curses, but Leon knew what kind of victory he truly needed, not just beating a bastard who insulted him.

The mist in the forest appeared around him, and the light around the Lion King began to distort, like the dappled foliage of the forest. It was almost there, almost there. Leon felt a metallic taste in his mouth. He had been forced by Koz to the vicinity of a Dark Tower—this area was too oppressive to his talent.

The lion could even hear the humming of the Tower of the Underworld as darkness slowly enveloped him, halting his departure.

【return!!!】

Koz screamed furiously, but the kitten had already slipped away, just like every time before.

..............................

The Eldar head in Makado's hand exploded.

The old man remained calm—or rather, expressionless. He had received yet another defeat from Conrad, something he should have expected.

Not enough...not enough at all.

Makado raised his hand, coldly watching the yellow, white, and red liquid turn into pearls and gold and silver in his palm. Not only was the killing not enough, but the hatred was also completely insufficient.

He knew who Hades was; Hades would never attack rashly without a thorough plan.

In this respect... Hades is far less likable than the Lord of Man.

Marcado impatiently flung the jewelry from his hand, scattering gold and silver onto the floor with a clattering sound.

+Incite the Dark Eldar... Conrad. +

Makado said, beckoning and revealing a map of the galaxy. The old man intentionally drove the Eldar towards an entrance to the Comoros, while his attitude toward the alien races also stirred up enough hatred.

Macado's hands are behind his back.

Next, the Eldar will probably be preparing for a major counterattack.

As for him... he and his army had already been severely weakened in the previous war with the Eldar, and could no longer provide much assistance.

..............................

The Emperor watched Luther and Eurycan depart together.

Yay! That's it!

Chapter 643 [Special Issue: Heroes' Couples' Day]

Barbarossa

The wind blows through the cornfields of Barbarossa.

Isha struggled to lift her head. The corn, improved by the sage, had already grown taller than an adult. These dense corn seedlings resembled lush aquatic plants at the bottom of a river, and the sun cast dappled pinkish-red shadows, making everything seem even more like a dream.