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

Chapter 810 [252.] [Robert Guilliman]

[I have an uneasy thought...]

Angron muttered quietly as he sank into the lounge sofa that Guilliman had prepared for them, while mortal servants moved around the towering Primarch, waxing their armour to make it shine.

Mortarion, who was resting with his eyes closed beside him, heard these words, opened his eyes, and stared at Angron.

【You don’t have to come. 】

Mortarian paused, then spoke again, speaking with real emotion:
[I think Guilliman will show some leniency to you. It is difficult for us all to face our other side... but I think it will be even more difficult for you to accept.]

[If I were you, I would probably choose to find a better battlefield to bury myself. ]

There was no yin or yang in these words, but rather Mortarion's true feelings. He now wished he could chop his other self into pieces - the only thing to be thankful for was that that [Mortarion] at least had the necessary etiquette.

But as for [Angron] who has devoted himself to the Tao...it is hard to say.

Mortarion watched as Angron took a deep breath, then another. After a series of deep breaths, the Lord of Red Sand's frown finally relaxed.

【No,】

Angron's eyes flashed with determination.
I need to face him directly——

I can imagine that if I escape, he will only feel the pleasure of victory. I cannot admit defeat in this regard, Mortarion. No one wants to lose to the opponent. 】

That was very true. Mortarion nodded, and couldn't help but admire Angron's determination, despite the difficulty.

He thought of what Slaanesh had done to him... Mortarion felt goosebumps crawling up his spine. If Slaanesh had replaced his face with his own at that time... Mortarion really didn't know if he could hold on.

【and,】

Angron nodded nervously and accidentally bumped into a servant who was walking next to him. The Primarch quickly raised his hand to apologize and told the nervous servant not to take it to heart.

Then he changed the subject, his brows furrowed again.

[Mind and emotion control and influence is a very hidden thing. Although it is in the field of psychic power, compared with general psychic skills, mind and emotion control is less likely to be detected by psychics - they do not have particularly obvious psychic fluctuations. ]

Mortarion understood.

[Are you worried that "Angron" will play some tricks on us? You underestimate us, Angron.]

Angron smiled.
[I hope it's the best, but I always have to go and see, Mortarion, not everyone has a strong enough soul like you, and I am very worried that the one opposite me has abilities in this regard that are completely beyond our imagination. ]

After the Butcher's Nails were completely removed, Angron gradually recovered his original talent, but he usually only used it to boost the morale of his own side, or to comfort the wounded and confused soldiers, and would not use it in more sinister places.

He was first and foremost a gladiator, and gladiators are upright.

Even so, Angron's gifts also allow him to excel in his ability to perceive and manipulate emotions in subtle ways.

Not to mention Angron who often uses his abilities...

Mortarion was silent for a moment, then the door opened and Sanguinius and Magnus walked in together to make final preparations before the dinner.

【Perhaps you could tell us more about how you use your abilities? 】

Angron nodded, swallowed his saliva, and began his story.
【Every soul is different...】

……

[Another fate line]
[past]
[Every soul is different, brightness, color, shape, smell, touch...]
Angron spoke, bowed, and held out his hand to Guilliman.

Guilliman did not give his hand to Angron. The Lord of Macragge stared at Angron with interest, holding a sword in his other hand.

[I have kept a complete record of my previous memories and personality, Angron. If I walk out of this room after today and am any different from who I was before, I think your World Eaters will be destroyed even faster.]
Mortarion noticed that the smile on Angron's lips froze for a moment.

[You are always so cold, Guilliman... You are not like this when you are with our other brothers.]
[Because you touched on something I care about,]
Guilliman smiled warmly. After saying this, he stretched out his sword and cut his hand. Then, blood, sparkling with light, dripped out.

[I still prefer to clarify the interests before cooperating... Too much ambiguity will always make you want to try to put your hand into my armor, Angron.]
The blood from Guilliman's palm dripped onto Angron's palm.

That was not ordinary blood, but it carried part of the Primitive's psychic energy, or even some shallow soul fragments.

[Mortarion] watched coldly outside the altar. After the risks and benefits were acceptable, [Guilliman] was willing to do something more radical.

Guilliman's words were too euphemistic, Mortarion thought coldly. If he was not stopped, Angron would not only reach into the armor, he would reach under the cloth, under the skin, and directly grab the beating internal organs.

Then he will do whatever he wants to change you according to what he thinks is "happiness".

Mortarion had met some of Angron's mortal followers. It was because of these followers that Angron gained fanatical support and popularity in some specific worlds.

To be honest, Mortarion has no idea what the meaning and value of life is for those handsome men and women who giggle all day long, sing from time to time, play stupid games, or fall in love with each other. They look like a piece of meat full of dopamine.

Whatever men seek, Angron satisfies them.

Mortarion knew that these so-called believers of Angron, used for propaganda purposes, would not exist for more than a year. After a year, the incentive would weaken, and in order to continue to maintain their high happiness, Angron would have to transfer them to deeper believers and servants.

And those deep believers... hehe...

When Mortarion went to negotiate with Angron this time, the Primarch was "kindly" helping one of his deep believers to find happiness. Mortarion folded his arms and stared at the thing with most of its flesh peeled off, leaving only a pile of nerve bundles and brains, and smiled coldly.

This thing can't even become an abomination of intelligence. Even the most basic thinking and logical ganglia have long been rotten, leaving only endless pleasure.

But even so, Angron's followers were extremely grateful to the Primarch.

Most of them were people suffering from illness or poverty, but they were also a part of these classes. Because some of the suffering people had a strong spirit of resistance, Angron did not like them.

The Primarch was also extremely popular among the aristocracy, and most nobles could directly become deep believers of Angron.

However, the Primarch's behavior seemed to have leaked some information to Terra, and the Emperor once severely warned Angron, and then cut the World Eaters' supplies.

But again, Angron doesn't care.

Angron was ecstatic to catch the drop of blood from Guilliman. The Primarch tilted his head back in enjoyment and closed his eyes, as if enjoying something. Mortarion could see Angron's eyeballs trembling wildly under his eyelids.

………………

【? ? Fantasy? ? 】

Angron opened his eyes. The sunlight of Macragge shone on his body, but he did not feel any warmth.

He found himself standing outside a college-like building, with numerous glorious marble statues staring at him, draped in satin blue silk.

He smelled blood, and people gathered together in fear and silence.

[Angron] turned his head, thinking of something, and the Primarch walked straight through the crowd and walked to the front.

At the very front, on the high steps leading to the front of the academy building, the head of a terrified young man rolled to the ground. Angron looked up and saw Guilliman, who looked as if it was a matter of course, standing at the top of the steps. His school uniform was neatly dressed, and blood splattered at his feet, but it did not stain his clothes at all.

Beside him, the decapitated body of his classmate lay on the ground.

Guilliman turned his head and stared at the crowd at the bottom of the stairs.

[I won.]
Guilliman pronounced the matter, and his dispute with the mortal on the subject was ultimately won by him.
[He couldn't understand my point and insisted on refuting me - I explained to him three times that his point was completely wrong, and then I decided to end this unnecessary topic. His brain capacity was not enough to understand what I was saying, so I chose to end it.]
Guilliman said calmly, looking at the people under him with some confusion as they screamed in fear and the crowd fled -

But he was stopped again by Ms. Yuton and the soldiers who came hurriedly.

"Seal off the scene!" Ms. Euton shouted.
Guilliman was very happy to see the lady coming. Compared with Yalda, he still liked Euden more. Euden's baked cookies were delicious, while Yalda only said things to secretly provoke him and the Lord of Mankind.

In this world, the only one who can educate Guilliman is the Lord of Mankind. As for the rest of the mortals - the arrogant ones, the stupid ones - there is no need for them to simply express their opinions to Guilliman.

He blinked his azure eyes, walked down the stairs obediently, and proudly showed Yudon his victory.

Euden hurried over, and behind her, the soldiers of King Konor, Lord of Macragge, used a little violence against the students, which was obviously necessary.

Guilliman lowered his head, patiently letting Euden hurriedly wipe the non-existent blood from his cheek with a handkerchief.

"you--"

Euden sighed loudly, as if there was a huge exhaust fan in her chest, which made Guilliman a little worried about her.

"Why would you do this? He is your classmate, Guilliman."

"You can't...you can't do this..."

Euden took another breath, and Guilliman saw the tears in her eyes. She was mourning the loss of a life. Guilliman fully understood this. Her short life and short-sightedness were not enough to make her realize that life was the least valuable resource in the galaxy.

[I'm sorry to cause you trouble.]
Guilliman blinked, his long golden eyelashes trembling. In fact, when he judged that King Konor would finish the job for him, he could just shut that guy up, and Macragge would still declare Guilliman the queen in the end, so he simply killed that guy.

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After all, there is nothing to lose and I can go back and have dinner early.

The delicacies in the palace were exquisite, but they were not as warm as those made by Lady Euden herself for Guilliman. Guilliman never hesitated to praise Lady Euden's craftsmanship.

Although Guilliman missed the Lord of Mankind very much, because the Lord of Mankind taught him so much about war and rationality, the Emperor personally taught Guilliman how to wield this sword with war on one side and rationality on the other.

But Macragge was not boring at all. Here he met two other guys who were tolerant of him, two guys who would not be as strict as the Emperor in holding the sword.

According to common sense, Guilliman cannot break any taboos set by the Emperor - because he will really suffer unbearable punishment, and the slightest movement will be discovered.

But it was different here. This place taught [Guilliman] how to find loopholes behind the rules, how to test the bottom line, and how to go further -

Perhaps after a few years of study on Macragge, he would understand how to treat the Emperor more wisely.

This is a more rational choice, and Guilliman has no burden about it.

Only failure would give him negative feedback - this was the mark that the Emperor had left on the Primarch.

[You are sad,]
Guilliman bent down and gently embraced Lady Euden.
[I'm sorry, but I don't think killing a useless burden will affect you or me, and I want to end the debate.]
Yuton said nothing, just sobbed softly.

Beyond them, soldiers were pushing and shoving the crowd.

Angron was amazed. He felt that Guilliman was so pure that he was speechless. This scene was already lonely, so he continued to walk a few steps. The magnificent building collapsed, candles were lit, and thick carpets were spread out under his feet.

Angron looked up and found himself in an office with a huge Macragge rug hanging from the wall.

King Connor, who was sitting behind his desk, held up his face with a gloomy look, while Euden stood in front of the desk with tears on his face.

"He is too dangerous..."

King Connor sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands.

"He didn't see himself as one of the same kind as the others - he saw himself as the shepherd and his classmates as the lambs, and he was in charge of their life and death."

"But he is not an ordinary person!"

Euden screamed.

"Have you ever seen a child grow to three meters tall at the age of three?! At least he doesn't have the same genome as us - Oh my God!"

"The Son of God...?"

King Connor took a deep breath.

"But is the god really so cold-blooded? ... We need to make him understand that he can't do this casually. At least he can't be so reckless. The Macragge people will be disgusted by him."

In fact, Guilliman had already formed a brotherhood centered around him in the academy. These young guys were proud of Guilliman and believed in his theories.

Guilliman's killing only made these people even more fanatical.

[He can still be saved... He must still be saved...]
Euden just cried,

[I could feel that he loved us - a child who knows love can know peace and understanding, if we only let him know that love can be extended.]
King Konor fell silent, and somewhere inside, he was also wavering.

King Konor knew that Guilliman would become the true leader of Macragge - it was a gift from heaven.

[Guilliman] will definitely lead Macragge back to the sea of ​​stars and conquer the galaxy.

But - would Guilliman really love his people like his own children? He did not have the qualities that King Connor most wanted him to have, and King Connor felt a little scared.

The young man killed by Guilliman that day was one of the few in the academy who was unwilling to join the Guilliman Brotherhood, and the only one in the top 20 in the academy.

Is it true that Guilliman kills people just because he is bored, as he says?

King Konor felt scared, but there was nothing he could do. Guilliman actually held him back. King Konor had no offspring. If he now announced that he would abandon his adopted son Guilliman, then who would lead Macragge next?

No matter who it is, there will be another wave of bloodshed - some archons also agree with Guilliman's political views. If King Connor suddenly chooses to abandon Guilliman... won't Guilliman do something?

Euden also noticed this, so she tried to use love... Is this love really protecting Guilliman? Is it protecting both of them?

Perhaps as long as this emotion exists, Guilliman will not do anything in advance - all this is still within the range of his acceptance, and he seems to believe that he should learn at this age.

King Connor remained silent. The light from the wall lamp flickered, and the only sound in the room was Euden's low sobs.

Angron watched this scene in silence, and he found it interesting - compared to the turbulent emotions of these two mortals, Guilliman had no emotions at all.

The Primarch sensed something, and he went straight through the wall, walking up, up, up - to Guilliman's bedroom.

Without any hesitation, Angron passed through the wall.

Guilliman was humming an unknown Terran tune (perhaps taught to him by the Emperor, or by the Custodes he had killed) while scribbling on his sketchpad.

Art is also something a Macragge student should master.

Angron saw Guilliman drawing the present Macragge—the crowded Macragge that was ten thousand times more efficient than the Hive.

The painting was almost finished, and Guilliman reached out and picked up a smiley-face cookie from the plate next to the drawing board.

[~]
Guilliman suddenly spoke, which frightened Angron. The Primarch thought that Guilliman saw him, but this was an illusion, which was totally impossible.

[I heard you.]
Guilliman said in a low voice, and then he finished his painting -

The next moment, Guilliman cleanly threw blue paint at it, and large flakes of blue dripped onto the painting.

Guilliman then began to paint the blue sky and white clouds of Macragge's "present" based on this blue.

[Thanks for the cookies, Ms. Euton.]
Guilliman blinks.

[But you can't hear me. I will thank you in person later.]
The real masters of this family are the children.

(End of this chapter)