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

Hades could identify the legion they belonged to by looking at their shoulder armor.

The wolf and the dog were the first to greet him.

Two men stood up from the group of Shadowmoon Wolves and Warhounds. They walked towards Hades and politely greeted their new brother.

"Welcome, friend of the Death Guard."

The person adorned with the Shadowmoon Wolf emblem spoke.

"It is a great pleasure to hear that you have found the Primarch. Our Lord Horus has long hoped to meet his new brother."

Before Hades could even exchange pleasantries, the other person spoke up.

"Another Primarch has returned. I'm really looking forward to our father."

With a look of envy and determination in his eyes, the war dog Perez looked at Hades.

"Excuse my boldness, but your father must be a noble man."

"Perez".

Shadowmoon Wolf Sunderland whispered to his brother, "They shouldn't be discussing these things."

According to the information he gathered, the newly formed Death Guard is known as the Silent Guard, and the historians who once served the Twilight Raiders have a less than optimistic view of their Primarch.

According to them, the newly discovered Lord Mortalian is a very unique Primarch.

grim Reaper.

This is the consensus among historians.

This is quite rare; in most cases, historians who sought ornate and rich language would choose to use terms like demigod, angel, or king.

Therefore, the behavior of the war dog Perez just now could very well be interpreted as provocation or something else.

But Sunderland knew it wasn't their fault.

Because the Primarch has not returned in time, rumors have begun circulating within the Warhounds that "the Primarch is dead."

Before the Primarch was retrieved, the Warhounds and the Twilight Raiders had a good relationship; the two disciplined legions always cooperated well.

But now, Shadowmoon Wolf Sunderland looked at Hades opposite him with a slightly apologetic smile on his lips.

Hades is a warrior from the Primarch homeworld; hopefully, he hasn't misunderstood the words of the warhound Perez.

However, the warriors' personalities and external conduct generally align with their original forms.

If it's true as the rumors say...

Damn, if only Ultramarines Oulus were here. Although Sunderland wasn't used to their gentle yet distant smiles, they were undeniably politician material, and even the technical sergeants had a talent for defusing awkward silences.

"Huh? Hahaha, our Legion Commander is a very unique Primarch. He cares about us quite a bit. Every Primarch is a symbol of nobility. Of course, compared to nobility, our Legion Commander is probably more approachable, right?"

Sensing Shadowmoon Wolf's concerns, Hades chuckled.

"Approachable," Hades swears, "this is the lame joke I've ever made."

However, in order to maintain the Legion's image, I'm sorry, Mortarion!

To be honest, Mortarion is quite approachable towards the Death Guard in Barbarossa.

only.

Hades looked at his war dog Perez, lost in thought.

Is there still hope for Angron?

No, it should be that the war dogs can still be saved?

Sunderland of Shadowmoon Wolf was taken aback by Hades's easy answer.

Could the newly added Primarch be someone with high affinity?

Sunderland secretly memorized this clue and continued his conversation with Hades.

But this Death Guard was clearly very good-natured, Sunderland thought to himself.

Compared to the ever-smiling Ultramarines, this Death Guardian seemed to be casually chatting with them, not paying attention to details or oversights in language.

The Space Marines sitting at the other tables, studying or chatting, were also subtly watching this scene.

However, before Hades and his group could exchange more than a few pleasantries, one of the people who had been sleeping soundly in the corner suddenly woke up and quickly came over.

He nudged aside the warhounds and moon wolves, his head bobbing forward as if sniffing something.

"Dude, why do you smell so bad?"

"I was woken up by the smell."

"His canine teeth are showing," the wolf said.

Shadowmoon Wolf Sunderland and Warhound Perez watched in disbelief as Hades, who had just been smiling, suddenly changed his expression.

"Duel Cage".

"Now, immediately, right away."

Hades' face darkened. Did he still have a smell?

He clearly couldn't smell it anymore, so could it be that the other two people he was talking to also smelled the poison gas?!

While most Barbarus warriors carry respirators mixed with Barbarus gas, he never does!

Damn it, nobody is allowed to say I stink!

The instructions of the master forger Enrique have long been forgotten.

Looking at Hades, the Death Guardian, who looked utterly hopeless, and Manning, the Space Wolf, who was beaming with excitement and clearly looking for a fight, they saw...

Shadowmoon Wolf Sunderland silently wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

Hmm. It seems that smell is the Death Guard's bottom line?

It has to be said that this is a truly peculiar bottom line; words that could clearly be sarcastic about the Primarch were accepted with utter nonchalance.

But as Space Wolf Manning said, Hades did have a faint smell of toxins on him, in addition to the typical Space Marine sweat smell.

Perhaps it's a custom from their home planet?

Hades was unaware that the inexplicable custom of respecting the scent of the Death Guard had been inherited by the Martian technocrats, and that they would later bring it back to the Legion to continue its development.

Inside the dueling cage, the howls of wolves echoed endlessly, their mournful cries fading away long afterward.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh!"

Hades pinned Manning down, one arm gripping his neck tightly, while the other hand pinned down Manning's hand as he tried to reach the nearby battle axe.

As Manning's struggles subsided, Hades released his grip, stood up, and yanked the wolf off the ground.

The wolf, clearly suffering from prolonged oxygen deprivation, swayed slightly before bursting into laughter.

"You're a force to be reckoned with, bro! You may stink a bit, but you're way tougher than those perfume-spraying guys!"

Using the momentum of the swaying motion, Manning naturally draped her shoulder over Hades and lowered her voice.

"Twilight. No, Death Guard's good brother, I've hidden some wine, want a drink?"

Damn, those weird mechanical blocks don't like wolves drinking.

Manning had previously invited others for drinks, but only the Shadowmoon Wolves and Ultramarines, who talked about "harmony between legions," accepted his invitation.

But drinking with them is, in short, boring!

At this moment, Hades, regaining his senses, remembered Enrique's instructions from afar.

"Ah, or—"

The wolf grabbed Hades with an arm even stronger than it had been on the dueling cage.

"Stop talking, let's go!"

The other Space Marines who had just joined in the fun—no, the ones who came to watch—all silently mourned for this newly arrived Death Guard for a second.

The last person to be scammed this badly was that perfectionist son of an emperor.

Space Wolves also have a unique forging learning path for the Legion, so there are actually not many Wolves willing to come to Mars.

This made Manning extremely bored, and he would often grab anyone he could and ask them to fight or drink with him.

Of the current technical sergeants on Mars, apart from the Imperial Fist who ruthlessly rejected Wild Wolf's invitation, the others have all fought against Wild Wolf to varying degrees.

This wolf's strength should not be underestimated; he has defeated many people present.

But the Death Guard defeated Manning in a very short time.

Unbeknownst to Hades, his reputation had risen once again.

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Chapter 90 Extra 41: So your name is Mortarian?!

Warning: This story involves the encounter and war between the two Death Guard factions in this book's storyline and the original Ascension storyline.

This is a practice piece, a haphazard depiction of fleet warfare; please subscribe with caution. It lacks logical coherence. The protagonist's combat strength is a mystery. This is purely a side story, not related to the main plot, and is quite long.

.

This is a dark age; the Primarch is gone, and mortals struggle to build faith in the False Emperor.

He was in a state of emptiness, half-dreaming and half-awake, enveloped by a lingering ailment.

He was like a plant, slowly growing in the dark observation deck garden of the Reaper's Scythe.

He was surrounded by moss and bodily fluids, and there were no more of those chattering little creatures; he hated their shrill laughter.

Like him, his offspring also slept, in this endless dream, letting the Reaper's Scythe carry them far away.

Warm lights slowly illuminated the ship, causing it to tremble slightly, and the gentle breeze of subspace caressed the fine scales on its wings.

Mortarian reluctantly opened his eyes. Above the desolation, as high as a communications pole, the lantern imprisoning the Nacre soul swayed and screamed.

"Spare me, Mortarian! Kill me! Kill me!!"

His father's wails cheered Mortarian up a bit. He waved his hand, and the viewing glass, which had been covered in murky slime, became clear, allowing him to see Death's next target.

Spread the Father's mercy to mortals.

However, on the other side of that glass, the fleet was slowly floating—

[Motalian] opened his eyes wide, the white, sticky substance blurring his vision. Endurance, that's Endurance!

It is still intact. Without any damage. Pure.

A trickle of pus oozed from the gap in his breathing mask, and he struggled to breathe with a dying cough. How could this be?!

"attack."

[Motalian] murmured.

"The entire team must remain concealed, and all communication signals must be completely blocked."

O loving father, please let us hide in death.

"All fleets immediately surround the Reaper's Scythe. Fourth Knight, My Deceased Daughter, take turns at the bow of the Reaper's Scythe."

“[Vox], lead your Silent Lord and follow me to the foremost warship.”

Was this a gift from his loving father? Or was he still dreaming?

The light cruisers positioned on the outer perimeter of the fleet were the first to detect the enemy.

But it was too late. The fully accelerated ship formation, arranged in a triangular pyramid shape, appeared out of thin air like a ghost and tore the fleet apart.

The roar of the plasma engine echoed through the universe, the metallic luster was swallowed by the slime, and the heavy yet accelerated corrupted flagship suddenly appeared in the radar field of view!

The outermost Deathguard warship, which was approaching the enemy, reacted quickly, and countless torpedoes aimed at the target, exploding and illuminating the starry sky.

The new star cannons, pre-deployed around the fleet's perimeter, also ignited a raging inferno, tearing the sky apart.

The enemy ship was blown up, scattering debris everywhere. Large chunks of wreckage turned into burning meteors, and along with them, an unprecedented mist-like liquid sprayed out, directly disrupting the entire space!

The Death Guard's rapid firepower, upon approaching the enemy, only managed to damage the outermost cruisers of their fleet. Meanwhile, the Fourth Knight, positioned at the very center of the fleet, continued to accelerate, its pointed bow aimed directly at its target—

The side bow of the Endurance floats slowly.

[Motalian] stood in the center of the altar, his death shrouds standing around him, and he sensed the foolish, ignorant soul.