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

Chapter 467 2.47 Before that day

【incredible. 】

Angron said, the clear sky of Macragge making his pauldrons shine as he stepped into the preparation room. His World Eaters stepped forward to make final arrangements for the Lord of the Red Sand.

[In the end we got to this point. 】

Outside the preparation room, the flags of the three legions, sapphire blue, brilliant white, and dark green silk flags, were floating in the air.

He raised his arm in surprise, and the rickety old man slowly walked out from under his arm.

Malcador coughed,

"In the Lord of Mankind's plan, this was a possibility - mortals' vision is too narrow, they cannot understand his tolerance."

It would be better to say that when it comes to the emperor's majesty, the bottom line of the Lord of Mankind is a little lower... than they imagined.

\u0026quot;A Loose Confederacy,\u0026quot;

Malcador hid himself under his hood and laughed out loud,

"If one day, human beings no longer fight each other and truly understand cooperation - then I think he himself is the person who most hopes to see a more relaxed environment."

...Nineteen original bodies, they are not only generals, but also natural leaders. The Lord of Mankind left many escape routes for himself at the beginning of the plan.

But now, the star torch is extinguished and the war commander is missing. Except for the legions in various places that are still operating independently, this huge empire's rule over various star regions has almost ceased to exist in name only.

Maybe for some planets, this might be good news, because it means they don't have to pay taxes.

For those planets, the meaning of the empire is to bring mechanical sages who transform the planet, as well as excessive taxes.

This is not what the Lord of Mankind wants to see, but it is what he must do.

This is what they, the Emperor, and Malcador must commit, Malcador thought,

He didn't feel much weight because he had already accepted it.

Malcador laughed and coughed. Out of the corner of his eye, the Imperial Regent saw Robert Guilliman walking towards them in the distance. The young [Regent] seemed a little nervous, and after many months of continuous hard work, he saw Robert Guilliman walking towards them. His temples were a little white.

Malcador smiled, old guy, this is really like retirement, he whispered in his heart, but the old guy on Terra's side was just like before, without any response to him.

If it weren't for the current situation, Malcador thought, how wonderful it would be if this was the reality where the empire's great work had been completed and humanity was no longer threatened by the subspace -

He would stand in the shadows with the Emperor, smiling as a new generation took up their responsibilities.

Robert Guilliman, Angron, and Mortarion, although they are still a little green in some aspects, after many months of getting along, Malcador believes that they are enough to bear the weight of a country.

If only this was really the succession ceremony of the Empire, if only this was the moment when they, the old ones, really let go.

The smile on Macado's lips gradually faded, and he sighed softly.

But the reality is still cruel.

He thought silently that their primary mission was still [the deceased], but the subspace turbulence was trying to prevent them from going there.

I don’t know how long the current chaotic situation will last.

One year? ten years? A thousand years? Or another ten thousand years?

Macado didn't know.

He only knew that in Cadia, surrounded by layers of chaotic forces, those forces would not give up.

Malcador didn't know the specific situation of Cardia, but since the chaos in this universe is still there, it shows one thing - that is, the [Decedent] has not passed away.

According to the last news Malcador received, White Scar and the Raven Guard arrived at Cadia at the last minute.

They are now two legions fighting against Chaos, trying their best to protect the [Dead].

But... White Scar is good at raids and early reconnaissance, while the Raven Guard is good at stealth and assault. Neither of these two legions is good at head-on combat.

Cardia is still dangerous.

Malcador frowned and thought that this was also the reason why they needed to go to Cadia immediately - but the four gods also knew this very well, and they were trying their best to erase the route to Cadia.

Malcador sighed.

He is still training Mortarion intensively - so that the original body who is unwilling to face reality can regain his full strength as soon as possible.

Mortarion's psychic talent may be their only hope for traveling to Cadia.

The establishment of the [Second Provisional Government] was a helpless move to maintain stability and cope with the possible war that would follow.

They cannot just go to Cadia and ignore the stability of the region.

While the old man was thinking about this, the two originals who were talking and making final preparations for the ceremony moved.

The mist slowly rose from under their feet, and the death shrouds who had been waiting in the preparation room spontaneously came together. There were seven of them in total. They stood there, leaving a huge space in the middle.

【coming? 】

Angron's relaxed voice sounded, and he was answered with a hiss that sounded ill-tempered.

White mist gurgled out from under their feet like a fountain, and soon reached a height higher than a primarch.

Gradually, surging shadows appeared in the white mist.

【oh,】

Angron crossed his arms and commented,

[This really doesn’t look like a living person. 】

Hearing this, Guilliman glanced at the Lord of Red Sand in disbelief, but Angron seemed to be very confident.

A hand suddenly stretched out from the mist. The pale armor was covered with some dead yellow dry moss. The mist surged out of the hand. The palm was clenched, and a long and sharp sickle suddenly took shape from the hand.

A tall and thin human figure emerged from the mist,

[It seems that you really want to find someone to chat with you, Angron. 】

A hoarse voice sounded

[My suggestion is that you might as well draw more blood to create some bastards for you to relieve your boredom - instead of trying to contact me every day. 】

Angron grinned and looked at the figure that gradually became clearer in the fog.

[I'm just too bored, brother, you should also learn to relax properly. 】

Angron said, but in fact from beginning to end, the Lord of Red Sand was just confirming one thing in his own way——

That is whether Mortarion will become more and more inhuman as he [changes].

Not physically, Mortarion had been expelled by him physically.

Angron was referring to character. Having experienced the possession of the Maelstrom Emperor, he knew what it felt like, that people would become less than who they were.

They will be swept away by those stronger and more primitive forces.

If it is not strong enough, its original personality will be eliminated.

Angron is very worried about this. To a certain extent, he does not want Mortarion to completely become some kind of [higher dimensional] existence in terms of character.

Of course, the Pale Lord appeared from the fog and cut off this possibility with his sharp words.

Angron was relieved to realize that although he had realized that something was wrong with Mortarion since that meeting, after his persistent attempts to comfort him, Mortarion's attitude towards him quickly changed to his previous attitude. That way.

Anyway, Angron was fine, and he was just idle. Under the guidance of his own abilities, the Lord of Red Sand began to take the initiative to pay attention to the spiritual and emotional health of the people around him.

Mortarion is of course the focus.

The Pale Lord's face, which had been dead for seven hundred years, emerged from the mist. His appearance was a little different from the last time they met, as if the mist had no fixed form, and perhaps Mortarion didn't either.

But no matter what, he looked as if he were dead, perfectly fitting the image of the God of Death in the hearts of the local people.

The empty cloak covered most of the Pale King's body (or maybe there was nothing under the cloak except mist).

As for those wings... wings... Angron's eyes wandered and finally landed on Mortarion's back——

Ah, it looks like a cloak when it is closed.

The Lord of Red Sand's comment on this is that it's okay from a distance, but up close... it's better not to look too close.

Not suitable for close viewing.

Horrible.

Guilliman, who was beside the Lord of Red Sand, frowned and carefully circled Mortarion.

Mortarion stood there confidently, not thinking that there was anything wrong with his mimicry.

【All right,】

Guilliman said,

[Fortunately, I arranged your position in advance, Mortarion, do you mind if your station is a little more remote? 】

The Pale Lord answered Guilliman's words with a sneer, and Guilliman took him as his acquiescence.

Mortarion stood there, spreading his wings slightly in disgust, and allowed his scions to dust him with camouflage powder.

There was a brief silence in the room, and the three of them each had their own thoughts.

Suddenly, Mortarion spoke,

[...Makado, the recent subspace is not stable. You need to come and take a look. 】

Under the hood, Malcador raised his eyes and looked at Mortarion

"Can you tell the passages of the subspace?"

【No,】

Mortarion said simply,

[It is subspace, it has changed itself. 】

Great!