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76.57% Warhammer 40K: I Don’t Want to Be a Tin Can! / Chapter 134: Chapter 134: Kidnapping the Young

Kapitel 134: Chapter 134: Kidnapping the Young

Hades stood amidst a vast field, the short Barbarus cornstalks rustling beside him.

After the rain, the dim star of Barbarus hung high in the sky.

The sky was a healthy shade of yellow-white, a faint acidic smell wafting in the air, evidence of the recent rainfall.

He looked into the distance, the wide and undulating fields drawing his gaze to the faint mountain ranges beyond.

Hades blinked.

Calas Typhon had ultimately survived, though his current state was nearly indistinguishable from death.

At this moment, Typhon lay on the brink of death in the Death Guard's medical bay, guarded by countless Death Guard and Untouchables.

His awakening remained uncertain.

Mortarion sat somberly in the waiting chairs of the medical bay. After a brief chat with him, Hades, sensing Mortarion's desolation, left him to recover in solitude.

In their early days on Barbarus, Mortarion had spent more time with Calas Typhon than he had with the isolated Hades.

What solidified Hades' influential place in Mortarion's heart was their mission to kill Necare.

After Hades consumed part of his soul, Calas Typhon was entirely freed from the grasp of Nurgle.

Originally a hybrid of alien and human lineage, his soul naturally connected to the subspace.

Now, Hades consumed most of his soul with the Null Zone, preserving only the portions that were human.

Those tiny shards of soul, glimmering with pure light, might be the last gift from Calas Typhon's mother.

Later, after descending the mountain, they received reports of an attack on the Death Guard below. No Astartes died, but all the deployed Untouchables perished.

According to Morlag's report, someone, under the cover of a stormy night, was using Barbarus beasts for some dark sorcery nearby.

Despite the cover of night and storm, the scouting Death Guard discovered the man in muddied green power armor, its original patterns scraped off.

Morlag, responsible for the defense below, immediately ordered the Untouchables team to attack. Other Death Guard teams cleared the rampaging beasts, escorting the Untouchables to the site.

Upon reaching the vicinity, every Untouchable vomited blood and died. The discovered enemy managed to escape amidst the overwhelming beasts.

In retrospect, the deceased Untouchables had interrupted a teleportation spell.

Moss-drawn complex patterns clung to the wet ground, and a dead yew tree emerged from the massive corpse of a Pale Laugher.

According to the attacking Death Guard, when escorting the Untouchables, this yew tree was in full bloom, and he saw a chubby semi-transparent green hand emerge from the white flowers.

Seeing this, using the shock from the Untouchables' deaths, the attackers forcefully toppled the robust yew tree, attempting to kill the enemy. They were soon overwhelmed by the wild beasts and barely escaped.

Hades sighed.

The man was likely the Alchemist Laton mentioned by the Biologist Sage.

After the investigation, it was probable that Laton had been exposed to the source of the Plague Marines during the burning event at the Arcane Library.

The internal Death Guard capture order was issued immediately, but sadly, a psyker Astartes who could teleport with psychic power was hard to trace.

Currently, he wasn't found in the Barbarus system.

Another round of Death Guard screening was in order.

Hades sighed again.

Regarding Barbarus' conscription, gene seed issues, wrapping up Calas, construction on Barbarus, legion building, Untouchable training, a sulking Mortarion, Death Guard screening, initial construction of anti-psychic technology, finding a reliable forge world for the Death Guard, tax exemption reports, and disputes with Imperial institutions…

Hades was overwhelmed.

In short: construction, developing productivity, and preventing the subspace.

The good news was that the barrier between subspace and the physical universe was still robust. Even on Nurgle-focused Barbarus, summoning a great demon from Nurgle's garden was challenging.

They could only utilize the naturally psychic creatures on Barbarus as mediums for summoning.

Otherwise, they'd face more than revived alien lords and a corrupted Calas Typhon.

The task of cleansing Barbarus of psychic energy was also urgent. Who knew if Nurgle would once again target the Death Guard's home world?

Hades felt like getting into a fight out of sheer frustration.

So, he slipped away. No, he requested to scout for new recruits in the Barbarus villages.

In the meantime, his thoughts led him back to familiar fields.

The corn had grown so much since the time of the graves.

To him, they now seemed as short as wheat. Hades stared in astonishment.

The sorrow had long been washed away by time, leaving only a faint nostalgia.

These events would only increase in the future.

Time flew by, and he felt like the traveler who had just arrived on Barbarus, crying and shouting every day, dreaming of returning to Earth in the 3k era.

Given another chance, he'd never choose to become a scythe Lord.

Life back then felt so challenging. Every day, struggling to breathe in the toxic air, cultivating the land, hands chafed raw by the coarse scythe handle, swollen and inflamed from the toxins.

He had once hoped to become a Death Guard and fight. But now, Hades humorously realized that sometimes when he did, not many were left to work.

Was this overachieving his goals?

A breeze blew, and Hades removed his helmet. The once pungent toxic air felt familiar against his modified respiratory system.

The corn rustled, growing day by day, year by year under the dim Barbarus sun.

The sound of footsteps approached, and Hades turned to see two children, carrying farming tools, watching him curiously.

It was young Herila and Had.

Not far away, the Death Shroud guarding the children saluted Hades.

Hades had instructed him to merely accompany the children. This was both protection and surveillance.

Hades smiled at the children while instructing the Death Shroud through a communication channel to join the other Death Guard scouting for recruits in the village.

Though labeled as a recruitment scout, upon returning to the village, everyone silently dispersed to their original family homes.

Herila and Had approached him directly. Hades noted their gas masks were much more advanced than his previous model.

The Empire's arrival had brought changes. If not for the Mechanicus' inability to understand Barbarus's biological chain, Barbarus would have been extensively transformed by now.

The little girl spoke up, her voice crisp,

"Sir, my grandmother says I look a lot like you. Is it true?"

"Did people dislike you too?"

Stunned, Hades stared at the child barely reaching his knee and squatted down.

The villagers, like Lesha, indeed didn't know about the Untouchables, but their feelings towards them remained unchanged.

He spoke patiently,

"Yes, I was disliked by others for a while."

"It's because of our constitution. We're Untouchables, inherently causing harm to anything with a soul."

Hades paused, then continued,

"But not everyone dislikes us. Strong will can overcome this aversion."

"I know,"

Young Herilla spoke, the young girl raising the hand that held her younger brother's, who in turn had taken refuge behind her.

"Hade has always played with me."

Compared to Young Herilla, Hade was noticeably more slender and appeared listless.

This was likely the price to pay for prolonged contact with the Untouchables.

And he was a psychic.

Hades sighed lightly.

Removing his armored glove, he gestured for the young girl to extend their hands.

Young Herilla's eyes darted, and she theatrically placed both hers and her brother's hands upon his.

Hades channelled the Dark Realm energy onto their hands.

Hade jerked his hand back as if scalded, immediately hiding behind Young Herilla.

Young Herilla turned, confusion evident, to look at her brother.

Ignoring their whispered exchange.

"As expected," thought Hades.

Hade's soul flame was considerably weak. Although it shone brighter than an average person's soul, it was flickering unstably.

These two shouldn't be together; otherwise, Hade would eventually be unintentionally killed by his sister, Young Herilla.

Hades sighed once more.

He looked at Young Herilla's tiny hand resting on his. Even after contact with the Dark Realm, there was no sign of discomfort.

Untouchables didn't repel each other.

Yet, Young Herilla's anti-psychic field seemed weak. Or maybe, thought Hades, his Dark Realm was too strong.

If she knew she was harming her brother...

Hades blinked, signaling Young Herilla to retrieve her hand.

"You are an Untouchable, Young Herilla, while your brother... is a psychic."

"A psychic? You mean a creature that practices witchcraft?"

Young Herilla, clutching her brother, took several steps back, eyeing Hades warily.

"My brother isn't like that. He doesn't know witchcraft."

Hades sighed, struggling to communicate with children.

However, from behind Young Herilla, Hade peeked out, murmuring, "Sister... maybe that's true."

The previous man always eyed him as if he were prey. Coupled with the village's discrimination and the man that always followed them... But the good news was that the highest-ranking man did not harbor any hostility towards his sister. It was rare, as people instinctively disliked Young Herilla.

Perhaps it was because this man shared the same constitution as his sister, albeit of a much higher rank. He could even command others. His sister might be saved.

Compared to the carefree Young Herilla, who was constantly tormented by the psychic environment and her anti-psychic field, Hade realized their tragic fate.

Their parents abandoned them after their birth and sought livelihoods elsewhere. They relied on Grandma Leisha. Even with her high reputation, it couldn't change everything.

But now!

Now he could let this man take away his sister. This man must know how to prevent others from instinctively hating her.

How to ask this man for help?

Hade knew that the highest-ranking man, resembling a reaper, wanted to kill him, but this man subtly blocked his view.

Perhaps, like his sister, this man was kind.

But to psychic Hade, Untouchable Hades exuded the aura of a top predator.

He whispered, "I'll go with you. You can..."

He felt tears welling up, "You can kill me. I won't hide. I won't be a nuisance."

Trade his life, a monster who uses witchcraft, for his sister's.

Hades sighed deeply again, wondering why the sudden tears. Maybe his earlier use of the Dark Realm had hurt the boy.

Scratching his head, Hades decided to deceive and coax the children to the Death Guard for now. Young Herilla would be connected to the Silent Sisters, and if possible, put into the Untouchable troops of the Death Guard.

And Hade? Once ensuring there's no threat, he'd be sent to the Undertakers Think Tank.

Currently, the Death Guard Undertaker's troops were lacking. Due to environmental factors, there were very few natural and sane psychics on Barbarus.

Wild psychics often went mad under Barbarus's prolonged decay.

But removing them from this environment early might save them.

Not all Barbarus psychics had a history like Calas Tiphon.

Hades cleared his throat, trying to sound gentle, "Hade, you're saying you want to come with me?"

Hade nodded, tears in his eyes, "Yes."

Hades then turned to Young Herilla, "And you? Would you come with me to the legion?"

Young Herilla looked at her brother, then Hades, seemingly puzzled by her brother's sudden request.

Even Hades couldn't follow Hade's train of thought.

But if Hade really voiced all his thoughts, both would be shocked.

"Since my brother said he'll go, then I will too!"

"But I need to tell Grandma Leisha."

"Alright, go ahead."

Hades watched helplessly as the two children, clutching their farming tools, joyfully ran back.

Regardless of their wishes, their constitutions meant their lives would be intertwined with much grander battlefields.

Hades stood up, dusting his hands.

At this moment, Young Herilla and Hade had yet to realize that they would face challenges even more profound than life and death.

Artillery fire would define the rest of their lives.


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