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

Chapter 801 [243.] [Past Events]

The fire in the fireplace was now crackling.

[Mortarion] felt a strange feeling. Intellectually, he wanted to communicate with Hades very much, but emotionally, he felt far more disgusted than when he first faced Kharas who joined Nurgle.

I don't know how Mortarion and the Primarchs here can live in peace with Hades -

Mortarion could understand his other self's acceptance of Hades, but what about the other Primarchs? Shouldn't they have looked at Hades in horror and then shot him?

Or has all this already happened, and the winner is Pluto.

"Since you haven't spoken yet, I'll take the liberty of asking first."

Hades swallowed the biscuit in his mouth and looked at Mortarion, whose eyes were a little distracted.

He didn't intend to ask sensitive questions like what Lao Mo's stance was. He just wanted to chat about family matters first. It just so happened that Hades was also interested in another timeline created by Emperor Lao Deng.

"Are you interested...in telling me more about Barbarus over there? And whether I'm there with you?"

Hades blinked,

"Look at your reaction... there is another me over there, right?"

In a trance, Hades felt that Mortarion in front of him seemed to be dead.
An extremely pale and weak breath emanated from Mortarion, but the next moment, this long-dead soul struggled to crawl out of hell and sat opposite Hades, barely alive.

[in this regard……]
[Mortarion] felt his hands shaking. He would disguise himself with lies, sophistry, and false submission, but on this topic, in front of his "old friend" who seemed familiar, he wanted to follow his heart for once.

[I will tell you the whole truth... You have the right to hear it, Hades.]
After seeing the Primarchs and Hades in this timeline, Mortarion realized that Hades had already gained the trust of most of the Primarchs.

This would prove that this Hades was a man of high moral character, and not a hanged man like Guilliman.

A rustling sound was heard, and Hades leaned forward in front of the warm fire, his one eye flashing with a starlight that was eager for gossip.

"I would love to hear more... but if the memory bothers you, you may stop at any time, Mortarion."

[Mortarion] blinked. No, it wouldn't happen. He was feeling uncomfortable all the time.

And never stop because of pain.

So the story begins,

[Please let me start from the beginning of my memory...it's not a long story.]
..........................................

Another fate line

【Terra】

"Number 14,"

The strange light and shadows sprinkled on the visitors along the chandelier in the hall, and the scepter dragged on the floor, making a strange rustling sound.

[Malcador] bowed his back deeply and led [Erda] behind him as they walked in the palace.

"The real name given to him by our Lord is . His character is set to be rebellious and tenacious. You can just call him No. 14 - not many people here call him by his real name."

"Resistance and resilience?"

[Erda] gently pursed these two words in her mouth,

"This sounds like a perfect little fellow to rise up against the oppression of the Old Age... but why did the Emperor create him now? The Fourteenth seems somewhat out of touch with the era of the Great Crusade he is about to embark on."

“My Lord believes that every human virtue that has touched him and flashed in human history should be preserved and inherited—he hopes that each of his sons will be a human being with different virtues.”

"son……"

[Erda]'s fingertips slid across the wall beside them. The magnificent semi-relief murals were a little dusty. The palace was so large that some areas were semi-permanently abandoned.

"Hasn't he considered his daughter?"

[Elda] asked jokingly, and [Malcador] sighed and then shook his head.
"I tried to persuade him, but he was satisfied with his decision."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk."

Erda shook her head.
"The Emperor appears to have had little experience in raising children."

"The methods of raising children vary from era to era and from region to region... I think he should have considered a laissez-faire management approach and created twenty-one Primarchs..."

Malcador sneered.
“I think he took into account the natural rate of loss.”

[Erda] shrugged. She thought of No. 13 whom she had just seen, a sensible little blond guy. At just one glance, [Erda] knew that the [Emperor] would like No. 13. At least compared to No. 12, No. 13 was obviously more in line with the Lord of Mankind's dream of conquest and empire.

"So number 14 is on his list of [resources that can be wasted]?"

Makhado paused.

"I would like to hold off for now - number fourteen is the psychic Primarch. Any Primarch with a psychic manifestation gene is on that list. He is very cautious in this regard."

"But I feel like he's pretty friendly to that little red-skinned guy, No. 15."

"He can..."

Makado pondered for a moment.
“I found the dual identities of a father and a mentor in that little kid who was eager to learn.”

"And what about this little fellow, number fourteen?"

They walked through a long corridor and passed through a door heavily guarded by the Imperial Guards. Starting from a circular hall, twenty corridors extended at equal distances until they reached the tightly closed door in the distance.

"Another synonym for resistance is disobedience and rebellion."

Malcador said this, raising his scepter and opening the gate before them that was darker than that of the other Primarchs.

[Erda]'s eyes lit up, not because of the Primarch, but because of the decoration of the Lord of Mankind. All the Primarchs' rooms were magnificent.

She saw the little guy standing barefoot in the middle of the room on the blanket woven with gold thread, with smooth white hair on his head. He was too short, and the tip of the sword he held tightly in his hand just touched the ground.

Compared to his other brothers, this room seemed to be in its original configuration, and the Primarch had not left any personal traces in it.

The first impression this brat gave to Erda was that of a bad-tempered fellow, who looked the most frail among the brothers, but the indomitable fire in his eyes would never go out.

In short, people are addicted to bad stuff.

"Oh, poor little fellow."

Erda said gently, she squatted down so that her eyes were at the same height as the child's.

Number 14 was staring into Erda's eyes, as if looking for contempt and disrespect. Erda could tell with her toes that the Lord of Mankind had definitely shown an attitude of superiority when teaching this little guy, and this was exactly what Number 14 wanted to overturn.

The Lord of Mankind is abusing these children.

[Elda] thought to herself, the more she saw, the more certain she became—

The Lord of Mankind has become an out-and-out tyrant, and he is being swallowed up by his inner greed and desire for rule.

[Erda] glanced at the expressionless [Malcador] with her peripheral vision. She pretended to submit this time and came to Terra in order to win over the allies.

"I am a friend of your father, and I came to see you—am I disturbing you?"

Number 14 pursed his lips tightly. Three seconds later, the child spoke seriously and performed a standard Terra salute.

[No, good afternoon, ma'am - are you here to test me?]
"No, it's not."

[Erda] smiled and waved to No. 14 to come over. No. 14 looked very hesitant.

"I just want to chat with you. Would you like to tell me about the games your father played with you?"

[That's not a game—it's a quest.]
No. 14 immediately retorted, but then looked at Erda again with some hesitation. This lady had a scent of incense that he did not dislike, as well as an extremely rare respect.

[I can tell you about some of them.]
Number 14 said cautiously, and the smile on [Erda]'s face became even more intense.

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

In addition to the training time with the rest of my brothers, the Lord and Emperor of Mankind—

But he would sometimes allow me to call him father, and would find me from time to time to give me extra training.

The training content was very simple. Sometimes, he would wake me up in the middle of the night, pull me excitedly to climb Mount Everest, and then throw me down, requiring me to go up within a specific time. The reward for success would be a talk, but failure would not be allowed and the price would be destruction.

I sometimes feel confused when I see moodiness, gentleness, and violence all appearing in one individual.

I don't understand why my father would sometimes tell me stories about the past very gently, and sometimes throw me directly into the alien pool to fight.

The rules change from time to time depending on the mood of the superior. I couldn't keep up with him. He looked anxious, as if something was driving him from behind.

In the process of getting along with my brothers, I gradually understood what type of children my father liked.

Number Thirteen (Robert Guilliman) was smart, smart enough and cold-blooded. In the second game of chess, he decisively sacrificed all the imperial guards following him in exchange for a victory.

The one playing the game with him at that time was number eight. Number eight obviously did not understand what number thirteen had done. He looked at our father and angrily asked why innocent lives were sacrificed.

It's just a game, but real life is lost.

I remember the Lord of Mankind's expression at that time. He just smiled at No. 13, and No. 13 returned him a similar smile.

Then I knew number 13 had won.

"This is not a game. This is a drill for you as a commander before going into battle. You need to understand the heavy price paid in death and sacrifice. War cannot be interfered with by personal emotions, and generals cannot be shaken by the death of their soldiers."

I watched coldly as Number Eight (Conrad Kurtz) dropped the chess piece in his hand and walked away, and another guy who looked very similar to him but was obviously dumber squeezed out from the crowd of children and tried to comfort Number Eight.

Thus, starting from the second game, there would be sacrifices in every round. The children were reluctant to see the imperial guards who took care of them die, but not bringing shame to the Lord of Humanity was obviously more important than that.

The situation of my brothers did not always satisfy him. No. 18 (Vulcan) was crying all the time, No. 9 (Sanguinius) was so clever that it was laughable. Some people chose to fail directly, while others were checked by the opponent while they were hesitating.

When it was my turn, I left straight away.

I refuse to start this game.

Because I realized that this was just what he wanted to see, he wanted to see us suffer because of something we had lost, and he was cruelly proud of it -

Even if I win this game, or lose because I don't want my Custodes friends to die - the next game will still start, and we will still lose something.

Not following the rules.

So I was punished - he ordered my guards to fight me until the two sides fought to the death.

The imperial guard who was usually very kind to me and would carve small patterns on the hilt of my sword, faced me and raised his halberd without hesitation.

The rest of the people were laughing at me that day... I was so miserable that I think I shouted something, trying to persuade the guards to stop the attack, but it was no use.

I won, and that's why I continue to live.

But this does not mean that I will submit to his rules. Filled with rage and unwillingness, I swear on my life that I want to chop off his head.

Childhood vows are always ridiculous. I probably did a lot of ridiculous things back then. I remember I found number eight...

I hope to rebel with him, but he is stuck in the rules he has defined for himself and cannot extricate himself.

I went to find other people to persuade them, but it was no use.

But the good news... or perhaps the worst news is that this hellish day did not last too long, a warp storm tore apart the Terran Palace, and I and the rest of my brothers were lost, lost in the vast galaxy -

Memories of Terra have been more or less lost, but even so, the instincts he nurtured still flow through our veins.

I forced myself to stand up in a dizzy state. The thick poisonous gas was tearing at my lungs. If it were my other brothers, they would probably have fainted immediately.

I landed on...

[Barbarus.]
The language of Barbarus roared out from the Primarch's mouth. Mortarion looked towards Hades. In the flickering of the fire, the shadow of Hades' face was dancing.

"Ah... Neos is such a jerk."

Hades said, I saw a familiar look in his eyes, I had also seen it in that child's eyes.

[He is.]
I said this with a look of indifference in my eyes. In fact, the pain I suffered in the Terra Palace was no longer worth mentioning, because compared with the suffering I faced later in my life, it was just a drop of tear in the vast ocean.

And the first night after landing in Barbaros...

I encountered a slave-hunting team from the alien lord Nakre.

"You were captured by Nakre?"

Hades asked, and I looked at him, apparently he also had a bastard named Nakre in Barbarus here.

[No... not really.]
I said mildly that in fact I should have been arrested.

But the two men leading the Nakre slave-hunting party that day were Hades and Karas Typhon.

(End of this chapter)