Warhammer: I don’t want to be a can of worms! ! !

Chapter 105 95. Nuthria Massacre Day

The massacre began with the first drop of blood in the butcher's hand.

The drop of blood fell with him.

Amid grand cheers, guests from outside the world jumped off the high platform and drew an arc.

His figure hit the ground heavily, splashing red sand.

Looking at this uninvited guest, nails roared, Angron pulled out a twitching mockery, and blood flowed.

"What do you want, slaver?"

However, his opponent ignored his taunt——

Kahn smashed the chain ax to the ground and held the ax handle with one hand.

"boom!"

He knelt down.

The smooth power armor smashed into the mud, and blood splashed out.

On the viewing platform, the cheers stopped abruptly, and people watched in disbelief at what they could not understand.

Quiet, absolutely quiet.

"Sorry, we're late."

"Father."

Kahn said softly, his blood was rushing, his heart was beating violently, and his soul was throbbing.

Even now he is as still as a corpse.

Angron was stunned, his tall nose twitching unnaturally. He seemed to be trying very hard to understand the situation, but the buzzing nails disrupted his thinking.

However, that inexplicable throbbing, that coming from the binding between genes and soul, that coming from across from him, the huge sadness and anger, pulled back Angron's last shred of reason.

The primarch spoke, and the sound was like the fierce wind howling over the mountains,

"I'll give you a chance, what are you?"

Kahn felt himself boiling, he was suffocating, he was convulsing.

Finally, he spoke slowly and said the words that every war dog once dreamed of saying,

"We are the dogs of war who bring you glory."

Without glory, he bowed his head heavily, like a sinner.

Bitterness bloomed in his mouth,

He was the lucky one for the war dog, but—

There is no glory.

Angron gave a smile that was even uglier than crying. The face studded with the butcher's nails was that of a broken demigod.

"Then help me kill them."

He was answered by the roar of Karn's chainsaw as it activated.

Above the towering stands, Piggy, who knew something was wrong but still found it difficult to accept the reality, was talking.

"What's going on, sir?"

What they responded to was the sound of heads falling to the ground.

The massacre began.

No one knew how long the massacre lasted, and the angry butcher forgot about such insignificant things as time.

Thousands of drop pods roared and tore through the blood-red sky, light spears and macro cannons ignited the sky, and the air trembled and bled.

The battle ax spun, blood spattered, angry roars and whimpering, and red enveloped everything.

Angron was like a god of war, running wildly among thousands of enemy troops. His strong muscles carved the body of an angry god, and his rough leather draped his identity as a slave. His huge battle ax was chopping, and his life was flowing.

Countless war dogs were running wildly. They rushed out of the airborne pod, armed with weapons, and slaughtered towards their father.

The towering figures of the fearless are interspersed with the violent currents of war dogs. Melta and heavy explosive bombs are rare ranges in this carnage.

Towering cities burned, noble banners were torn to pieces, heads were chopped off wantonly, and mad war dogs howled and charged at their enemies.

Discipline is obviously no longer necessary at this point.

With the huge gap in strength, they are like strong winds, they are like tsunamis, they easily crush everything in front of them! They easily devour everything they have!

One city after another was captured, and one head after another was chopped off!

The iron cages holding the slaves were torn open and then they were drawn into the killing frenzy.

Blood and carnage chased them.

Blood all over the ground.

The fire gradually extinguished, gunpowder smoke drifted across the sky, the broken flag hung its head, and the dead body was placed on the flagpole.

The last larger group of survivors ran into a cave in the countryside. They were both men and women, but most of them were old and weak.

They are all poor people, or farmers outside the city.

Relying on their familiarity with the wilderness, they have survived to this day.

The roar of the ax has arrived, and Kahn, who is at the forefront, skillfully raises his weapon——

"enough."

The battle ax held high above his head stopped.

"Enough, I say, enough."

The hoarse and deep voice of the original body echoed in the cave. To those civilians, it was like the sound of nature.

Even though the nails are still ringing.

Kahn didn't understand, but he stopped his behavior.

The ragged mortals in front of him were shivering.

Kahn turned around, as if waking up from a big dream.

Angron's tall figure was blurred in the bright light at the entrance of the cave, leaving only a silhouette of him.

"Yes, father."

He responded lowly.

So he turned and followed his primarch, leaving a bloody puddle in the soft earth with every step.

They left this small and dark cave. In the blood-red sky, black smoke floated. As far as they could see, blood and heads were everywhere on the ground, while the angry war dogs were still rummaging through the ruins of the city looking for the last survivors.

Angron stood on the high slope and looked at all this, all this that had appeared in his dreams countless times.

Slave owners were beheaded, tyrants were overthrown, and the benighted lackeys of the monarch paid their price.

but

His eyes were dark, those slaves hiding in fear, those poor people fleeing in panic.

The words of his father, Onomamus, echoed in the brain where reason had gained the upper hand,

"Those people are not monsters. Don't take your anger out on them. There are many guys who really look like monsters. They are the targets of your anger."

Some lives shouldn't have to pay the price.

His anger is reserved only for monsters.

Angron raised his hands flat and then let go.

"boom!"

The battle ax in his hand hit the hard rock and carved a permanent mark.

He opened his hands, and the enemy's blood flowed from his arms.

He looked at these warriors who claimed to be his descendants, and he looked at these warriors who were loyal to him without hesitation.

"enough!"

Angron shouted,

"enough!!!"

Those people stopped, looking at all this as if they were waking up from a dream.

The rushing current suddenly stopped, and they slowly merged from all directions.

Countless people in white armor emerged from the red-black ruins, their armors smeared with pits, dust, and blood. They walked towards their father silently.

The battles in various places have long ended, and most of the war dogs have been moving closer to their original bodies in the previous wars. Now, except for the slow Dreadnoughts, most of the war dogs are here.

As the water flows, the last to arrive is a special team.

It was a team led by Legion Commander Rock and composed of technical sergeants and pharmacists.

In Dogs of War, those brothers who are unwilling to slaughter will choose to become Apothecaries, or Techmarines.

At the center of the team are the brothers and sisters from the Angron Arena.

After realizing that the arrival of the war dogs was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Angron's brothers and sisters decisively asked Angron to take the war dogs to fight.

"Leave us alone, Angron, kill the slavers."

"Angron, we know you are different from us, but they are a lot like you."

"Angron, go kill them quickly. We can't catch you, but we will."

"Kill the slavers before they react, Angron, and don't let them escape."

At that time, Angron made a second request to the Warhound,

"Help me. Please let them join in this fight, too."

He wanted to protect them, but he also wanted to fight with them.

But the gulf of strength separated them.

Angron, carrying the expectations of his brothers and sisters, left, running towards another more brutal battlefield.

He hopes that they are all alive, but he also does not hope that they are protected cowards.

The nail interrupted his hesitation, and amid the anticipation of his brothers and sisters, he turned to seek the kill.

But they are all standing here now.

His brothers and sisters were there, some frightened, others excited.

What was happening now was a scene that had never appeared in their wildest dreams.

Angron looked at them. They were all there, and there were even some other unfamiliar faces. They must be family members of his brothers and sisters, or something else.

Then he looked at the warriors protecting them. Strange devices were placed on their armor.

He silently remembered them.

Angron moved his gaze and scanned these war dogs falling from the sky.

There was no gleaming armor, and blood was thickly stuck to their bodies.

In the previous battle, from the few words spoken by the war dogs, Angron roughly spelled out the stories of these warriors and his origin.

Were they slave owners?

But slave owners will not fight with slaves.

Are they slaves?

But slaves would not have such fine equipment.

No, neither.

They are weapons.

A crazy and bloodthirsty war machine that can devour an entire world.

But now, the authority of the weapon was given to him, and the hound voluntarily handed over the collar.

Angron looked around at all this, as if he was still dreaming.

The first scion to kneel woke him up.

Kahn got down on one knee.

Like a command, the sound of power armor hitting the ground was heard everywhere, and blood scabs mixed with soil were thrown up.

The sun shines down, and the armor gleams.

His sister Kleiste in the arena looked at him, smiled slyly and encouragingly, and knelt down along with these giants.

The brothers and sisters knelt.

Silence, he was the only one standing now, Angron slowly spoke,

He is the son of the mountain, his voice is like the falling boulder,

"I don't know where you come from, I don't know why you are loyal."

"But you followed me to capture Nuthria and cut off the heads of the slave masters,"

"You showed me your sincerity."

"If you are still determined to follow, then Angron will definitely live up to it!"

Angron took a deep breath and shouted, his strong voice tearing through the sky,

"In Nusria's history, those invincible armies were called city-devourers, swallowing up one city after another."

"But you, you!"

"You are so powerful that you can devour this world!"

"You are my battle ax to chop down the slave masters, you are my war machine to devour the entire world!"

"You are the World Eaters!"

"You are the World Eaters!!!"

The Twelfth Legion, the World Eaters.

Since then it has been established.

"I'm guilty."

In the wreckage of the First Arena, two figures were hiding in the shadow of the viewing platform.

Kahn, the commander of the 8th company, buried his head absentmindedly, his eyes wandering.

"You were the first to discover the Primarch's father, and you did your best."

Legion Commander Roque crossed his arms and stood upright, but his expression was tired.

"We have all tried our best."

he murmured.

But no one spoke.

The expectations of the War Dog before were now like sharp and vicious daggers, stinging the World Eater.

They are too arrogant, they are too vain.

arrogant.

The Primarch's return was a slap in the face.

"I used to look down on it"

"Shh, Kahn, don't say it."

Rock looked at him with dark eyes,

"We are well aware of this."

"I thought I was standing on that high platform, overlooking him."

This will become his eternal nightmare.

Rock patted him,

"There's nothing we can do about it."

"The top priority is the recovery of our primarch."

"I have contacted the Empire——"

The horn sounded, interrupting the conversation between the two.

They looked at each other, walked out of the darkness, and walked onto the bright arena.

There, led by Angron, countless World Eaters stood on the red sand.

Today, they will carve their first rope of triumph.

The Rope of Triumph, a Nuthrian tradition.

Kahn stood between the warriors.

They took off their armor and scars covered their muscular upper bodies.

Angron was at the front, with a winding red line climbing up his spine from his tailbone.

Every extension of the red line is a successful battle and an honor worth remembering.

Without hesitation, the original body stabbed the front end of the red line with his dagger, and scarlet blood dripped down.

Following their father, the World Eaters slashed their skin with their blades, penetrating deep into the lowest layer of black carapace.

Angron took a handful of red sand and poured it into the wound. The rough sand was embedded in his flesh and blood.

In order to remember the eternal glory, Angron stretched out his hand, inserted into the newly opened wound and pulled it to prevent the wound from healing quickly.

Blood dripped down his fingers.

Blood dripped down their fingers.

Kahn used his fingers to support his wound. His fingertips touched the slippery black carapace, and the pain burned like a flame.

He took a deep breath, but did not hold up the fiery red sand.

He held up the pitch-black sand.

Black sand symbolizes shame and failure.

Shame will be the beginning of the World Eaters.

The black climb numbed his painful heart.

Vision is blurred, black and red mixed in as far as the eye can see.

Angron was happy, he gained another new group of brothers, and they followed him to carve the red rope of glory.

But what he didn't know was that not everyone among the World Eaters chose red sand.

The black line meanders.

【Emperor's Dream】

future.

"Reporting to your lord, the Twelfth Legion has discovered their original body."

Following the messenger's words, Angron's message was transmitted.

The emperor looked at it casually;

"oh."

"Inform the Twelfth Legion that I will arrange an operation for No. 12."

The battle report from the front line came again, and the emperor's mind was only distracted for a moment, and he had no time to think about it anymore.

Although No. 12 is damaged, it is still usable.

Wonderful little theater:

"Why don't you stop them, old man?"

Lao Qi murmured to himself and pushed Lao Ba.

"His anchor is no longer here."

Lao Ba laughed loudly,

"Besides, I don't care about this, as long as it has the head and blood!"

"Stop staring at a gas canister, man, I like them all!"

Lao Qi had a dark expression and muttered words that no one could understand, such as destiny, perseverance, and kindness.

[Extra has been posted]

Well... the troubling point here is the emperor's attitude. In the original work, the emperor's attitude towards Angron is extremely cold, which leads to the saying that "the emperor is deliberately giving up the original body he does not like".

But in the latest book, the Emperor himself values ​​the Primarch and hopes that everyone will retire happily in the end, but the image of a sentient being autistic is completely inconsistent with the one in the Biography of Angron.

In the part about Angron in this book, the image of the Emperor will be more consistent with the Biography of Angron.

The author will make a transition to other emperor parts.